Page 18 of Bride of the Fae Prince

My chest rises and falls with a deep breath. Why does it suddenly feel so hot in this palace? Perhaps I ought to take refuge in the gardens. It’ll be cooler there.

But I stay rooted to the spot as Isabelle Louise and her sister turn the corner and vanish from my view. I blink once, twice, thrice. Then something hot coils around my heart. A fierce determination that shoots through my body, radiating out from my core to the tips of my toes and fingers.

I will be good to her.

I will swear it on any name. As long as she lives, my wife will want for nothing. I will repay her for her sacrifice. Anything that is within my power to grant, I will give—and then more.

She will have whatever she wants. I only hope she lives long enough to enjoy it.

Negotiations start early thenext morning. I leave one of my warriors in charge of my entourage to ensure they do not leave their rooms unsupervised and wreak havoc on the human palace. Then I take Rahk and Edvear with me into the council room.

It’s larger than I expect, with the same low ceiling as much of the rest of the place.So dark and depressing.If there’s a window anywhere, it’s hidden behind the carpets hanging on the wall. A large oak table fills the center of the room, covered in candles with rows of fresh parchment, a trimmed quill, inkpot, and wax for a seal.

There are some dozen men beside the king, hiding behind the table like it’s a buttress, and I lift a brow.

“King can’t make a decision on his own?” Edvear mutters under his breath. His long ear twitches like a horse’s when a fly buzzes too close.

I agree, but don’t respond.

The king comes to greet me and reaches out his hand. “Welcome. We are honored.”

Something about the way he says it strikes me as humorously ridiculous. I manage to contain my reaction to a grin as I say, “The honor is all mine, King Roland.”

A few of the humans have the decency to look uneasy. Good. Last night, I might have been the fawning suitor, but today, I am the future High King of Faerieland. My grin slides into something colder and calculating.

“Would you have a seat?” Roland asks, and gestures for one of the servants standing on the wall to bring me a drink.

I lift my hand to stay him. “Why don’t we skip the pleasantries?”

Roland glances at me, hesitancy written in every line of his face.

“I wish to marry your daughter, Princess Isabelle Louise. In exchange for her hand, I offer my promise of safety for your lands once I am High King. I will not only cease the encroachment of our borders on your land, but I will restore that which has already been taken.”

Stillness washes over the crowd. They didn’t think I’d make such a handsome offer, did they? My lips twist.

“How long until you are High King?” asks one of the presumed advisors. One with a beard like a goat’s. “How do we know you won’t honor your promise hundreds of years from now, when our lands are completely swallowed up?”

Part of me is relieved they’re not entirely idiots. Another part wants to groan inwardly. I have no desire to be here all day, and I’m starting to get a sense from the room that the king doesn’t intend to hand over his daughter easily.

He must show some reluctance, or else he has no power.

“I will be crowned within the year,” I say, and the lie rolls off my tongue and fills the room with iron-stink. Rahk struggles to keep his face from wrinkling, but his nose wriggle gives him away. Edvear fares better, but his face has a line of sourness about it.

The humans don’t react. They don’t even notice.

It’s a lie because, as much as I intend to be on the throne within the year, it is no guarantee yet. But I cannot show any hesitancy, and since there are no fae in this room besides my trusted two, it is worth it for me to taste sourness on my tongue for the next few minutes.

I retract my refusal and accept the servant’s goblet of wine, but never once do my eyes leave the king’s. “Once I have taken the princess as my wife, you will relinquish all ties and claims to her as your daughter.” This is the part I do not want to say, but I must make it part of the terms. Otherwise, I might have another fae-human disaster war on my hands. “Faerie is a dangerous place for humans. You will promise not to retaliate should harm befall your daughter.”

“Not retaliate?” Roland bursts out suddenly. “What plans have you for my daughter? Will she not be protected?”

“She will be under my protection.”

“You guarantee her safety, then.”

I draw in a breath through my teeth, then say the words levelly. “I do not.”

The room goes still. Only Rahk doesn’t flinch, standing solidly at my back.

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