Page 6 of The Cursed Crown

“I’m giving you a chance to join me on your terms. My high court has moved to the Old Keep, in the Murkwoods. We’ve sent word for what’s left of your courts to make for the borders with their forces. Your numbers aren’t enough to push against all of Antheos.” To his annoyance, he had to admit, “Nor are mine. When they come for Tenebris after destroying your land, I may be victorious, but there will be too many losses among my people. We have to ally, and prepare to beat our common enemy back to their borders.”

Old Keep was the best place for this. The ancient castle had been built in another era, when all fae had stood together under Mab’s rule, before the courts parted ways. It was deep inside the Murkwoods, right at the edge of the seelie and unseelie land.

Rydekar had moved there the moment his spies had alerted him that Antheos was gathering their armies.

Antheos, the land to the west.

Antheos had attacked the fae world twice already. They’d failed in the time of Rydekar’s ancestors, and he was not going to let them take their borders now.

Even if he had to drag this princess to a throne, tie her up, and shove a crown on her head.

That notion didn’t lack merit.

“If I have to treat you like a puppet, you won’t like the position I put you in.”

She lifted her chin. “And what, pray, would I do, in Old Keep?”

Was she mentally challenged? That seemed obvious. “Rule.”

Compromises

Rissa had been told time and time again that her temper would get her into trouble someday. She was fairly certain that Miss Prott—her yellow, rumple-skinned old imp of a governess—must have been talking about this day, in an uncharacteristic show of clairvoyance.

Her temper was going to make her throttle the high king of Tenebris and start a bloody war if he didn’t get out of her face, out of her meadow, out of her woods, and out of her life.

Ruling? Absurd.

She snatched her hand out of his grasp. “I think I’ll pass.”

Her instincts urged her to face her enemy, keep her eyes trained on his every movement, but she turned away. She was fairly certain he would take it as a slight, a lack of respect, and that was exactly the feeling she wished to convey.

Howdarehe come here and attempt to dictate her life?

“You’ll…pass.”

She walked with her head held high, refusing to spare him a glance, though she could feel his anger coating her like a living thing. A bright flame, washing over her in waves.

“Thousands of fae dying, children, elderly, innocent, and weak, and you’llpass?”

Rissa would have preferred if he’d shouted. The deliberate, slow whispers were worse.

Now, she spun around. “You have no clue what you’re asking of me. You know nothing about me. And trust me when I say, you know nothing about Denarhelm.”

If he believed the thirteen lords would acceptheras their high queen, he was deluded. The very fact that he considered it a possibility was bizarre.

Bizarre and flattering. No one had ever believed her capable of ruling anything—not even her own life. Secretly grateful for the vote of confidence, Rissa couldn’t help a tiny little pang of appreciation for the pushy, rude, self-important jackass of a king.

And that had nothing to do with the fact that he was so beautiful looking at him made her dizzy.

“You live like a hag in the woods rather than facing your responsibilities. I know you’re a coward.”

I have no responsibilities, save those you’d force on my shoulders. Just because you believe they belong to me doesn’t make it so.

That was what she wanted to say, and she parted her lips to deliver it sharply. No word crossed her lips, though. For better or worse, she was fae, and since the dawn of time, the folk had been cursed with the inability to lie.

Rissa paused, shocked to find that she couldn’t speak up. If she’dtrulybelieved her words, true or false, they would have spilled out of her mouth. Why would any part of her think the fate of Denarhelm was her business?

The answer came to her too readily. She was Mab’s heir. Mab’sgranddaughter. She was High Queen Una’s niece.Ifthere had been a crown of Denarhelm, in her father’s absence, it would have belonged to her.

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