Page 54 of Bride of the Fae Prince

Perfect. Tell her that I will bring Stella if she cares for an outing.

Tomorrow, I will initiate the second step of my plan. The step of bringing about the unlikely alliance between the Nothril Court and my father’s most powerful emissary, the Neverseen King.

The next isn’t even sealed. It’s merely folded and hidden between the other letters. I recognize the disguised handwriting despite the lack of a signature.

A star burns at midnight. It won’t set for three days.

I snort ruefully and mutter, “My sympathies, Rahk. May the moods of Lord and Lady Nothril not prove too overbearing. Though it’ll be wise if you delay your return more than three days.”

The last note is also not sealed. It’s on a torn sheet of paper, in Edvear’s hand, scrawled so quickly it’s almost illegible. I frown at it, tilting it to decipher its meaning. At last, I make sense of the scrawl.

Do you really intend to do this to her?

My jaw hardens. I toss the paper into the glowing embers of the fire and let it darken and curl until it’s consumed.

It’s easy to criticize those who make hard choices when you never have to. I don’t pretend to be proud of what I’ve done. Who I am. What I’ve become. But I would rather be a monster to give those better than me a chance at a good life.

If I must be a monster to keep Stella alive and get my throne, then I will be the ugliest, deadliest monster.

And I won’t regret it.

Chapter 22

The Princess

The next morning, Iwake to a strange clicking sound. I stretch, move to sit up—and find five eyes on strings bobbing above my face.

A gasping sort of scream tears out of my throat as I throw myself off the bed, grabbing the nearest thing for a weapon: a long, tapered candle. I hold it out in front of me, pointed at the . . .creaturein my room.

It’s close to my height, andgreen. It stands on two feet like a human, with two arms like a human, but the hands are blobby palms with four slender fingers that bulge into blobby points. A dress with a sash clothes its green body. Its head is more like the lower half of a head, with a wide, toothy mouth and blue lips, nostrils but no nose, and—and—and what seem liketentacleswith eyeballs at the end of them coming out of where the creature’s brains should be.

It burbles something at me and takes a step closer.

“N-n-not another s-s-step,” I snarl, holding out the candle at the . . .thing.

The door barrels open, and Ash stumbles through in breeches and a blousy white shirt that is open at the chest. His hair stands up at strange angles like he fell asleep at his desk.

A massive sword is in his grip, a faint glow tinging the blade.

“What is it?” he demands, frantically surveying the room, me, and the creature. “What is wrong?”

I blink. He has no reaction to the creature, who burbles something at him, sticks out a waggling blue tongue, and gestures at me. All five of those eyes swivel toward me as it plants its hands on its narrow hips.

Ash’s eyes follow hers, finding me and the candlestick I’m wielding. I stare at him stupidly, realizing he must know this creature. I lower the candle. “I w-w-was s-startled,” I mumble quietly. It’s the only explanation I can give that doesn’t imply my horrified shock at the creature’s appearance.

Ash straightens and sets down his sword, propping it up against the wall. “I think introductions are in order.” He comes to my side—and very distinctly averts his gaze from what I’m wearing.

I glance down, my sleep-fogged mind clearing, to find I’m in my nightdress. It’s not scandalous by any means, but . . . itisa nightgown. I cross my arms over my chest self-consciously.

“Stella”—he places his hand on my back—“this is Hylath. She will attend to your needs if that pleases you.” There’s a lilt on the edge of that statement—a question about whether Hylath is suitable to my sensibilities.

I look at her. At her strange eyes that blink out of sync with one another.Where is her brain?Maybe it’s behind her nostrils? It just doesn’t seem like there’s enough space for it. Maybe she doesn’t need one. “I-it is a p-pleasure to meet you,” I say with as much dignity as I can muster after my little display.

Hylath sticks her tongue out and wiggles it at me.

I lift my brows, glance up at Ash. “Is she angry?”

One of her eyes pops wide and lifts straight up.

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