Page 16 of Bride of the Fae Prince

The prince looks down at me, responding to my gaze. “I look forward to wedding her tomorrow.”

Shock floods my body from head to toe.

“Tomorrow?” sputters Father. I don’t think I’ve ever seen himactuallysputter before. Vivienne, nearby, sucks in a sharp breath.

A tiny smirk plays on the edges of Prince Trenian’s mouth. “What? Do you wish me to wed her now? I suppose I don’t have other plans for the evening—”

“Tomorrow will be lovely,” says Father quickly. “Once we’ve settled the conditions of the alliance. Not before.”

“Of course,” he says with barely suppressed amusement.

Is it even possible to settle the alliance in a day? My head goes light, and I catch hold of my father’s arm so I do not sway on my feet. The prince’s eye shoots toward me at my movement. A knot appears on his brow. “Will that suit you, Princess Isabelle Louise?”

All eyes turn to me. The lack of music, of even quiet conversation in the ballroom, echoes around my head like a pounding drum. My tongue clings to the roof of my mouth.Wretched tongue.It’s certainly fast—too fast—but I cannot say no, right?

“Yes,” I manage.

With that, the prince turns and strides out of the ballroom, his shoes clicking on the reflective floor. The doors swing on their hinges in his wake. Their quiet creaking is the loudest sound in the full room. The stunned stillness spreads across the crowd like a canopy.

And everyone stares at me as though I have five heads and an assortment of feathered tails.

“Why did you say yes?” asks Father, a thick vein standing out starkly on his forehead.

“It wasn’t like she could have said no!” says Amelia, glaring at him and coming to slip her arm in mine.

“A gown cannot be made by tomorrow!” cries Vivienne.

“Then she will have yours!” Father snaps at her.

“Mine?” Vivienne’s face goes pale. “But my wedding is in but a month, and this gown took five months to make! I could never get a replacement in time! It won’t even fit Isabelle Louise!”

“Thenmakeit fit!” cries Father. “Steward! Send for my advisors. I must meet with them immediately. And prepare a royal wedding, will you? We have no time to lose!”

“I need to leave,” I whisper to Amelia, taking her elbow. “I need to get out of here.”

“Of course,” she says quickly, and the two of us slip out as chaos breaks across the ballroom.

Chapter 7

The Prince

The cadence of theprincess’s voice echoes in my ear long after I leave the ballroom. Rahk was right—she is terrified. My gut twists. I want totalkto her, plainly and openly, without that wretched veil. It doesn’t matter if she’s disfigured or uncomely.

If I’m honest, however, the reason I want to talk to her is that I want her to somehow ease the guilt that slides down my spine at the memory of Calver’s slaughter. And all the others before him. But she cannot ease my regret. It is not for her to bear or soothe. It is my burden alone.

There’s still so little of her for me to base any opinion upon. She reminds me of a soft, downy gray dove that warbles and shudders when held. A thing of sweetness and innocence.

But just for a moment there, I saw a part of her—the true Isabelle Louise.

Do you intend to kill me, Your Highness?

Beneath the trembling and quiet, there’s something sharp and spirited. Something that she suppresses—something that spineless man she calls Father and those prattling wenches shecalls sisters suppress in her. Will I ever see the real girl beneath the veil? Or will she be ripped from my grasp too soon?

This time tomorrow, she will be my wife.

And I know next to nothing about her.

It had never mattered, not in theory, not when I scribbled down my plans and watched those same plans burn in my furnace. I needed a human wife—and a royal, to abide by the terms of my bargain. She was merely an idea on a page, a figment of my imagination.

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