Page 509 of Flirting with Darkness

“Now it’s time to meet the prince.”

“My future husband?” I said dryly, because I was still rather stuck on that point.

They exchanged looks that I couldn’t quite read.

“If we’re lucky,” Vivi said lightly.

And then they hustled me out.

7

Iwasn't exactly happy to be taken to see the prince, but I knew I needed to understand the new place I found myself in. As I walked down the marble halls, feeling like a stranger with this dress silky against my legs, with my hair cascading down my back, I wondered at the fact that I didn't feel terrified. I imagined myself as if I were a stranger, outside my own body. I knew I was reacting in a way that was bizarre.

And at the same time, I felt as if I had been asleep all my life and I was just beginning to wake up from a dream. It was surreal. But maybe this was why I had always been waiting.

Then the doors opened in front of me, and I caught a glimpse into the enormous throne room beyond, and my stomach clutched tight. Hundreds of faces stared curiously at me. I had always been afraid of crowds, afraid of speaking in public. I spent my entire childhood trying to disappear. Anytime I was too visible, it felt like I was in mortal danger.

My steps faltered, and Vivi touched my elbow, leaning in toward me. She pretended to be fixing my dress, but she whispered in my ear, “Show no fear. These are a bunch of monsters.”

Well. That was comforting. She flashed a bright smile at me as she straightened, and I plastered a smile across my face, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.

As I walked into the room, the prince looked down on me from his throne, on a dais which said a dozen steps above the gathered Fae. They were all incredibly beautiful, unearthly.

But the most beautiful of them all was the Fae prince. Silvery blonde hair hung around his powerful shoulders. His jaw was sharp, his features strong and well-defined and so symmetrical it was hard to look away from him. Most of all, his piercing silver-gray eyes seemed to nail me into place.

Tension seemed to crackle through the room as he looked down at me as if I were nothing.

Then he rose from the throne, every movement as beautiful as a dancer’s. My heart stopped in my chest. There was something about him that was so entrancing.

“There’s that glamour working,” someone murmured near me, and my gaze snapped to the speaker, trying to understand what they just said.

He seemed vaguely familiar, which made me wonder if he’d been watching me from the shadows, like Tor. Now when I thought back to all those times I thought I saw Tor, I wondered if he had really been there, always following me through the rain.

I looked around for Tor, wondering where he was. When would he explain everything to me?

I’d thought Tor was a figment of my imagination for the last ten years. Even then, maybe I’d longed for him, but I thought I was just longing for a dream. Now, I missed him. Needed him.

King Hier looked down at me from his place beside the prince. “So, this is the mortal bride that was dragged back for you.”

“This mortal has a name,” I said. I’d spent my entire life trying to be invisible, and my cheeks were blazing with embarrassment to be speaking in front of so many people, but I couldn’t stand by while the Fae talked about me as if I weren’t even there. “You can call me Bethany.”

The king scoffed. “And you can call me your majesty.”

Vivi had told me to show no fear, but it was hard for me to be outspoken, so a heartbeat went by before I raised my chin and said, “Oh, I already have lots of thoughts on what to call you.”

There was a murmur and laughter among the Fey.

“She is entirely unsuitable.” The king said.

“We’ll see,” the prince said back to him, quietly. “Remember not to interfere… any more than you already have.”

Then the prince strode down the steps, every moment graceful.

He towered above me, tall and lightly muscular, his hips narrow and his shoulders defined. I’d never seen a human male that looks so perfect, like he was something out of an anime. The weight of his gaze made me want to fidget.

“My future bride,” he said, and I stared up at him in shock.

“I don’t think so,” I shot back. “You don’t look like husband material to me.”

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