Page 106 of Bride of the Fae Prince

“Take one of mine,” he says immediately, pulling it from inside his overtunic and handing it to me. It’s a rich scarlet, with gold embroidery, and much softer than any other kerchief I’ve held before.

I slip it into one of the hidden pockets of my gown and somehow manage to smile up at him. His lips purse into a tight line, and he holds out his arm for me to take.

We leave the safety of Ash’s quarters, entering the main hallways of the expansive palace. This path to the throne room is starting to look familiar, and I keep my eyes peeled as we walk, noting the corridors, the different directions we could turn down, the landmarks along the way. The winding outdoor staircase that leads to a bridge over the water below. The statue of a winged fae archer. All the varying greenery and flowering vines that distinguish otherwise nondescript columns and windows.

Perhaps on our way back I can ask Ash to show me where Rahk’s quarters are. I need to know where my allies reside.

Now that I can detect lies, I intend to find out exactly who my allies are.

Ash is one of them. Everything he said this afternoon, when he held me in his arms and kissed me, was true. But I cannot help how my hair rankles on the back of my neck. The first night we came here, he promised me he would be honest with me about what we would be facing together. This small, seemingly innocuous lie he just told me is a poignant reminder that even with Ash’s power and strength and cunning, I am not safe with him.

Perhaps I’m not even entirely safefromhim.

That is fine with me. I’m done relying on him for everything. It’s time for me to learn the ways of the fae, this palace, the High King.

I’m nothing but a lowly human here, which means everyone expects me to be stupid, ignorant, and helpless. All things that I was when I first came, and to some extent, still am. But not forever.

It starts with learning my way around this place.

When we arrive at the throne room, those familiar double doors with the tall fae guards almost make me want to cower against Ash like I did the first time he brought me here.

No more.

I straighten my spine, and this time Ash doesn’t drag me in with a possessive hand around my waist as though I’m the new prize he’s collected. The doors open, and we march into the throne room, side by side. Ash wears that predatory grin, and I level my own half-smile straight at the High King, sitting there on his throne.

Faradir’s surprise shows only in the way his mouth—opened to speak—clicks shut. His gaze flickers to me, almost with disinterest, only to stop . . . and narrow. One of those eyebrows raises curiously, and he stares openly at me.

In my periphery, Ash glances down at me.

It occurs to me then that perhaps I ought not to lift my chin so haughtily. Perhaps I should play the timid little wife instead—to keep up the ruse.Oops.I lower my eyes to my toes.

“High King,” says Ash with a mock bow.

“Prince Trenian,” replies the king. And then, as a bored afterthought, “Princess Stella.” He returns his gaze to Ash. “Twice in one day, you bless me with your presence. Are we to celebrate the apparent recovery of your human?”

He says it like he might sayanimal.

I don’t flinch. Instead, I slip my hands from Ash’s arm and bow in a deep curtsy. “Thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty.”

Beside me, Ash blinks just a touch too fast. It’s the only slip in his mask. It’s too hard to tell if his surprise is positive or negative. He tucks an arm around my waist, pulling me back up just as I was standing. He leans toward my ear, growling into it, and it’s just loud enough that I know it’s not only intended for me to hear. “No wife of mine bends the knee. Toanyone.”

I cannot help a little smirk at that. I straighten at his side, trying not to feel anything at all, as his hand moves possessively to my hip. He grins at the High King. “Are you still so surprised this human caught my attention?”

He’s flaunting me. A carrot on a string. I’m the bait, the temptation.

The High King waves a hand as though dismissing a fly. “Tell me why you’ve deigned to interrupt my proceedings, dear son. I have important matters to attend to.”

Ash stalks closer, bringing me with him. I try not to give into the impulse to stare down the High King with this newfound boldness. Letting go of fear is truly an electrifying sensation.

“I’m here to bargain with you, dear father.”

“Another time, perhaps.”

My gasp is entirely genuine when Ash grabs me, snatching my wrists behind me and holding them fast while he pulls me back against his chest.

And presses his curved knife against my throat.

My awareness narrows to the sharp edge of steel like ice ready to slice into my vulnerable flesh. The pounding of my blood through my veins.

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