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“Call to me?” I frowned up at him in puzzlement. “Why would it call to me?”
He shook his head.
“Never mind—later perhaps when you reach your full potential. For now, the Shadow Throne sits empty.”
“Why is that?” I asked curiously.
“Because my mother, Queen Mab, abdicated some time ago,” Liath told me. “I have not seen her in years. It’s just as well,” he added. “She was going mad and it was beginning to show. The Shadow Throne extracts a heavy toll.”
“Why don’t you take it for yourself?” I asked bluntly. “You’re the Prince—the next in the line of succession, aren’t you?”
“I am.” He nodded. “But the Shadow Throne will accept only a female ruler. Did you know that?”
Wide-eyed, I shook my head.
“It’s true,” Liath told me. “And it doesn’t sit empty because no one wants the power it bestows. Many have tried to take it since my mother left.”
“What happened?” I asked. “They tried to sit the throne and failed?”
“They tried and died,” Liath said grimly. “The Shadow Throne will accept only a worthy candidate. If it doesn’t think you’re worthy—or maybe just doesn’t fucking like you—it will strike you down when you sit on it.”
I sucked in a breath.
“That’s…not the way it is with the Shining Throne.”
“I know,” he said simply. “And I also know that the Summer Palace and the Winter Palace are mirror images of each other—but you need to remember, little bird—even if they look alike, they are not. They couldn’t be more fucking different. Come.”
He took me by the wrist—the one he had healed—and led me out of the Throne Room. I went with him but I couldn’t help turning my head to stare back at the Shadow Throne.
Liath had asked if it called to me—it did not. But I felt a kind of dark fascination as I watched the blood-filled carvings in the black chair. It sat in shadows and seemed to brood to itself, like a monster that was sleeping but waiting for the right person to waken it.
I was sure that person wasn’t me…but I wondered who it might be. By rights, Liath—as his mother’s heir—should have found a woman to marry who could sit the throne so that he could rule through her. But that would take pure High Fae bloodlines and an immense amount of personal magic. I had the one—at least on paper—but I was completely bereft of the other.
Why had he married me? I could be no help to him in taking the Shadow Throne—it would probably sense my lack of magic and kill me if I even dared to come near it. Also, he had told my father he had no interest in making peace between the two Courts. And I was certain he hadn’t picked me for my beauty any more than he’d picked me for my magic—it was the same in both cases—I had none to offer.
So why had the Prince of the Winter Court chosen me as his bride?
I had no idea and there didn’t seem to be any way to find out unless he chose to tell me.
7
After walking through what felt like the entire Palace, we at last came to a suite of rooms which Liath told me was “ours.” Which meant, I guessed, that we would be living together—not a comfortable proposition at all.
In most royal households, the King and Queen have their own quarters—often at opposite ends of the palace from each other. The idea of actually living in the same set of rooms with my intimidating new husband hadn’t occurred to me and I found myself dismayed by it now.
Never mind, I tried to comfort myself as I walked into the dark but opulent living area. This gives me that many more chances and ways to kill him.
Which was true, of course. I needed to start looking around my new rooms, scouting for weapons. I would have to take him off guard, of course—there was no way to face him directly. He was so huge he could doubtless break me over his knee like a stick of kindling. So, subtlety would have to be my game. It was too bad I hadn’t been able to get my hands on any poison before my wedding, but it had been quite impossible.
The rooms were, as I said, grandly appointed. The carpet on the floor had clearly been woven by many clever hands and the chandeliers hovered near the arching ceiling, shedding remote golden light from their myriad of fairy crystals which not only shone but also sang with faint, high voices in a language too ancient to understand.
Half the walls were mirrored and I could see myself as well as Liath—his reflection was twice as large as my own. He strode through the room to a smaller sitting area where a round table had been laid for two.
