Page 252 of Kingdoms of Night

Geraint took a determined step toward her, only to be halted by Wain’s hand on his chest.

“G, we don’t know the politics of this world.”

“Politics or not, she’s still one of the Goddess’s creatures. We all have free will. She cannot be forced to do something she doesn’t want to do. Not without repercussions.”

In the old days, a woman would be forced into marriage if she were compromised. There were men who compromised women just to get their dowries. There were women who hatched plans to be compromised to win a man of means.

“All I’m saying is we don’t have all the details,” said Wain. “We shouldn’t rush into inter-realm politics without knowing the full score.”

“She needs someone on her side. You’ve met her father.”

Back in his ring tournament, Gyges had pitted family members against one another. He’d pitted the weak against the strong. All for his own amusement. Geraint could see the trickster fairy king selling his daughter off to gain power—or simply a bit of evening entertainment.

Now that he thought of it, he was certain this was all Gyges’ doing. Enid had to be blameless in this farce. And yet, she’d already paid the price by having her virtue stolen from her.

Geraint wouldn’t be another male who failed her. He wouldn’t be another male who ignored what she wanted.

“She sought me out,” he said. “I owe her a debt. If this is how she’ll allow me to repay it, I will grant her that.”

Gawain sighed. Usually, it was Geraint sighing over some antic Wain or Loren wanted to get up to. Usually, he was the voice of reason. Looking at the fairy, all of his reason flew out the window.

“I’ll just go and rough this guy up—badly.” And by badly, he meant within an inch of his life. “Then we’ll go home.”

A loud rumbling sounded, as though trees were being downed. Because trees were being downed. Wain looked up, and his eyes widened. Geraint looked up, and then up some more to see giants walking toward them.

Males as white as the snow with ice-blue eyes that glowed bright. Those bright eyes all radiated cold. A cold so chilled that Geraint felt his fingers begin to numb with the onset of frostbite.

“Ah,” said the giant in the lead. “If it isn’t my sweet Enid.”

“Hello, Vidar,” said Enid.

CHAPTERFIVE

As Vidar stepped forward, leaving behind massive footprints, Enid wondered if she had miscalculated for the second time this day. She hadn't remembered how big her betrothed was. Which was fair, as this was only the second time that they had met face to face. Any other time they had spoken on the crystals.

Those chats had been brief. The Frost Giant prince wasn’t much for words. Then again, neither was Enid. Their talks across the gemstone communication devices had been filled with more chilly silences than warm words.

The crystals provided crisp video transfer along with audio. However, it didn’t account for size or girth. Vidar was nearly twice the size of the knight and definitely twice as broad. Geraint had barely made it through her father’s tournament for the ring. This was not going to be a fair fight.

"Anticipating our vows, sweet flower?" asked Vidar.

Enid had never understood the need for niceties. Their relationship had been purely strategic. He was a means to an end for her, and her for him. Or he had been. Now he no longer factored in her grand plans. And so she told him that.

“There's been a change of plans,” she said.

“A change?” asked Vidar. “Since our fathers have spoken?"

Enid worked hard to keep her face placid. Most who met her thought she was a rose. A beautiful bud with a protective exterior of thorns. They were wrong. Those lower plants were too obvious in their deception, with their thorns outwardly visible. No, she was of a higher evolution of her kind. She was something beautiful and carnivorous.

Not a Venus Flytrap like her mother had been, with her smooth surface and sharp edges. Her mother, too, was obvious with her sticky sap and spring-loaded jaws.

No, Enid had been born a pitfall trap. That carnivorous beauty boasted bright petals in a cylindrical fashion. It lured its prey with the sweet smell of nectar. Once an insect slipped inside the funnel, it found that it was too steep and too slippery to get back out again. The pitfall’s digestive enzymes would slowly break down and absorb its meal. Vidar still hadn’t realized he was being consumed.

At her back, Enid felt her knight move into place.

Her knight? What a thought. Geraint was not hers. He belonged to another. The sunflower-haired female warrior who’d let him go off with a carnivorous plant. That Loren woman wasn’t the brightest. Though the female knight had won her father’s tournament. Which proved that she was cunning.

It was no matter. Enid would return Sir Geraint back to her—whether she deserved him or not. Enid was only borrowing Geraint. But as the knight stepped in front of her and faced off with Vidar, Enid wondered if she would be returning him to Lady Loren a whole man.

---