Page 136 of Bride of the Fae Prince

Could I ask to see Amelia?

“Oh no, that would be far too dangerous. It can only see those who offer their blood to it. I can only see members of my staff.”

I’m trying to think of something to say to hide my disappointment when Edvear’s large ears twitch below his horns and he springs to his feet. “His Highness is back.”

I hear the door close a moment later, and I’m only a few steps behind Edvear when he greets Ash and takes his cloak.

But Ash’s attention shoots immediately to me, cunning light sparking in his beautiful eyes. Cunning . . . andhope. “Good morning, wife. What say you? Should we cause some mischief today?”

I squeak when his arm wraps around my thighs and scoops me right off the ground. Edvear makes himself scarce as Ash lifts his chin toward me and captures my lips in a long, dizzying kiss.

“What sort of mischief?” I ask when he sets me back on my own two feet. The memory of Hylath’s misery is fresh on my mind, making me add: “If it hurts the High King, then yes.”

“My woman is bloodthirsty once again, everyone,” he announces to the empty living area. Then he cocks one dangerous eyebrow at me. “Show me your best Listhra glamour.”

Chapter 49

The Prince

Never in my wildestdreams would I have ever imagined I would allow Stella to march—completely unprotected—out of my quarters into the dangers of the High King’s palace.

But a lot has changed in a short amount of time.

I stand, heart raging like an untamed beast in my chest, with Edvear’s little mirror. We added Stella’s blood to it before she left. Through it, I can watch my terrifyingly fragile little wife march in disguise with a tray of tea straight to Listhra’s doors.

We spent hours perfecting her glamours, her scents, her tone of voice, and her mannerisms. The afternoon was half gone by the time she set out, disguised as one of our own servants. I kept my gaze glued to the mirror, watching with so much anxiety I could barely breathe, as she made her way to the main kitchens of the palace, switched her glamour for Listhra’s sad human slave, and picked up a tray of tea to deliver.

What worries me most are her scents. I had to glamour each scent into a piece of cloth, and Stella had to breathe it in deeply for a while before she was able to get the glamours right. Eventhen, I’m not sure she can fool someone with as strong of a sense of smell as Rahk. And what if she gets confused and switches the servants’ scents with each other? What if Listhra realizes she’s not the right servant?

I will have given her my bride—right after blackmailing her because she hadn’t used the opportunity she had to kill Stella.

“I know she can do this,” I whisper to myself, reminding my stupidly anxious brain that I never would have sent her to do something so dangerous if I didn’t fully believe she could do it. And I am ready the second anything goes wrong.

“She reached Listhra’s door,” I call to Edvear, who hasn’t been hiding his disapproval of my plan as well as he usually does.

“Did they accept the tea?”

I watch the mirror, barely breathing, as Stella, in the form of that sad, hunched slave girl, bows when the door is opened. She enters, and I nearly lose her small form in the sudden onslaught of brilliant blue and half a dozen colorful fae women sitting and laughing with Listhra. Just as I made Listhra promise to do.

Stella’s movements slow slightly.

“Don’t stop. Don’t get scared,” I whisper. “You’re doing wonderful, darling.”

One of the fae women plays a harp in the corner, and she glances at Stella and frowns.

“Did they accept the tea?” Edvear demands, his voice pitching high.

Stella places the tray on the center table, bows, and as other servants serve the princesses and ladies, the woman on the harp goes back to playing, and Stella slips back out of the room.

I let out a gusting sigh of relief. “She made it out. They accepted the tea.”

Edvear’s shoulders relax, and he goes back to polishing a silver teapot he’d been neglecting the last few minutes.

What I see next in the mirror does something thrilling to my gut. When Stella steps back into the hallway, now empty of her tray, she isn’t in the form of a lowly human maid anymore.

She is tall, with silver wings, glowing gold eyes, and a delicate saunter that is completely convincing.

My wife has become Princess Listhra.

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