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“Here,” I whisper sharply.
His wide eyes and raised brows relay his confusion, but he doesn’t object and crosses to the doorway.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Prepare me a small plate of food and a goblet of water,” I command. “Quickly.”
He nods and turns on his heel without another word, heading for the banquet table. In a few minutes, he’s back with my request, which I hastily take through the small opening.
“Thank you.” I snap the door closed behind me and turn back down the hallway.
The princess is exactly where I left her. Her head is still resting back against the wall, but her eyes are closed.
Is she asleep?
Did she faint?
I nudge her with my leg, a sinking feeling in my chest. If she isn’t well for our royal introduction and first dance, what kind of bad omen does that speak for my reign? I can’t imagine a worse way to start my forced marriage than by having to carry her into the celebration hall tossed over my shoulder like a slain animal.
Luckily, one of her eyes pops open and a sigh forces its way out of my snout.
“Eat,” I say, shoving the plate at her.
Her other eye opens before they narrow on the plate in my hand. It holds a few pieces of pink fruit, a chunk of bread, and a piece of meat the servant cut from the boar.
“Did you poison it?” she asks, lines forming between her brows as she scrunches her nose.
I glare in disbelief.
She’s stubbornandunappreciative.
“I’m beginning to wish I had,” I say through gritted teeth. “Eat it before I force feed it to you.”
We remain in a stalemate for a full minute, our gazes locked. I’m tempted to toss the plate onto the seat beside her, but I’m determined not to lose my temper. I’m not the complete beast she surely thinks I am.
Finally, when I’ve all but given up, she takes the plate from me and eats hurriedly. She should probably slow down to avoid feeling sick, but I keep my suggestions to myself and hand her the goblet instead. It’ll serve her right for being a brat.
“Thank you,” she finally says when she’s cleaned the dishes and set them aside.
I open my mouth to praise her for finally remembering her manners, but the faint sound of music sounds nearby, and my attention turns to the entrance of the ballroom.
“Come,” I say, jerking my horns toward the doors. “It’s time to go.”
CHAPTERNINE
Irissa
One small gesture of kindness does not erase the years of built-up hatred I hold in my heart for Prince Nor, but it alleviates the light-headed feeling that gripped me moments ago and gives me a boost of energy as we prepare to make our entrance to the royal ball. I take his arm the way I did after we exchanged vows and prepare myself for whatever is beyond the doors.
From inside the hall, I hear a voice echo above the music. “It is my pleasure to introduce to you, the newest heirs to the throne of Ulleh: Prince Nor and his bride.”
His bride?Does no one here, aside from the wedding officiant, know my name?I guess it could have been worse. He could have saidhis human.
The doors before us swing open slowly, and golden light spills into the hallway around us. The ballroom is large and elaborate like I’d expected, dripping in navy blue and golden decorations. From the looks of it, the hundreds of minotaurs who’d been in attendance for the wedding have made their way to the hall and found a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the enormous room.
As we step inside, the guests bellow out their animalistic cries in unison, and I follow Nor’s lead while trying to look as casual as possible. I still have no idea what I’m doing, but I refuse to look clueless in front of these people. What I lack in physical strength, I make up for with my intelligence and ability to adapt.
My eyes sweep across the room for any sign of Lizette as we head toward an unoccupied table at the head of the hall, but there’s no sign of her. I’m the only one in the room without horns protruding from my head and a bull-like snout.
