Page 6 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

The last thing I would ever do in the human lands is get married. I give her a stern look. “Not a word out of you when we go in.”

She rolls her eyes as I shove open the doors to the throne room.

Lady Nothril sits quietly on her throne of carved obsidian, her white hair contrasting sharply with her dark skin and the shining silver dress she wears. She doesn’t move a single muscle. Unlike Lord Nothril, who has abandoned his throne and paces across the dais, his hands in a knot behind his back.

At our entrance, Lord Nothril stops pacing. Lady Nothril’s eyes shoot to us.

Pelarusa, who sits second in the line of three smaller thrones to the right of the dais, is the one who cries, “Pavi! You’re safe!”

I nudge Pavi toward Pelarusa, and she hurries over to embrace our sister and then take her seat. Out of Lord and Lady Nothril’s line of vision—just where she needs to stay.

“You have done well, my son,” Lady Nothril says with a lift of her chin.

I bow before them both, silently accepting the praise.

“Who was it?” Lord Nothril demands. “Who dared to take our daughter?”

I rise, fixing my gaze on the wall just above their thrones, where the Nothril crest hangs. “The Starborn Prince took her—not by force, but by coercion—as a statement he will do worse if the Nothril Court continues to make efforts to claim his city.”

Pavi’s desire to defend Caspar emanates from where she sits. I will her to keep her mouth shut.

“Did he, now?” Lord Nothril growls. “Does he truly think his city can stand against the force of Nothril?”

Lady Nothril’s gaze is heavy on me. I keep my face blank, and my eyes fixed on the crest. “He does not think his city will survive an attack by the Nothril Court, but he makes it clear that he will fight hard to maintain his city’s independence, and that such attacks will prove costly for the Nothril Court.”

That is all I can do for Caspar and his city.

“Interesting,” muses Lady Nothril, tapping one finger lightly on the armrest of her throne.

“I will investigate any breaches in our defenses at once,” I say.

Brow furrowed, Lord Nothril shakes his head. “Pelarusa will handle that.”

I mask my surprise.

In my periphery, Pelarusa blinks twice. “Me? Why?”

The doors burst open behind us. All eyes—save mine—swivel toward the loud bang of thick doors against cold stone walls.

“Lord and Lady Nothril! It has been far too long since you visited Valehaven!” cries a bright, golden voice.

I stifle my groan.

“High King Trenian,” replies Lady Nothril with snakelike calm. “What brings you to our Court?”

I was going to handle this. He didn’t need to announce his presence.

But of course, he did anyway. He’s Ash.

His hand lands in a smack of comradery on my shoulder, his wide grin a sunny contrast to the blacks and grays of the throne room. “I am here for the services of my most trusted warrior.”

“He is busy,” Lord Nothril growls.

“I’m afraid my errand is too important. He will go at once to the human lands and act as my emissary while the High Queen and I adjust Faerieland’s border.”

Lord and Lady Nothril both go quiet, which is typical for the latter—not so much the former. Ash stays at my side, facing them both, the cunning light in his eye sparking. Lord and Lady Nothril may be the rulers of this Court, but Ash and Stella are the rulers of Faerieland. My parents may not like this assignment, but try as they might, there is nothing they can do to fight it.

“Please do not keep him too long,” Lady Nothril says with a smile. “We do not like being parted from our heir.”

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