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“Well, that’s…nice,” Tansy said at last, though she couldn’t put any conviction into her voice.
“Nice? It’s horrid,” I said flatly. “I look like a wedding cake with too much frosting!” I moved a few steps, dragging the mound of loose fabric with me. “It’s huge on me! I know my curves are unsightly, but this dress only makes me look even bigger and uglier than I am!”
“You’re not ugly, my Princess!” Tansy said stoutly. “You just don’t look like the rest of the maidens here. Except for your face,” she added. “All your features are so delicate.” Here, she stroked her own long, crooked nose. Brùnaidh set great store by the length of that particular feature. “Your hair is lovely, too,” she added.
“I am ugly,” I said, lifting my chin. “I have curves when I should not. I will never be thin—I faced that long ago, Tansy—but I do not care to look like I am wearing a huge white sack to my own wedding!”
“Well, well—it does look like a sack, Cousin!”
I froze where I was at the voice coming from the doorway. Turning, I saw Asfaloth and Calista standing there.
My cousins were dressed, as usual, to match. Both wore pale lilac, though Asfaloth had on breeches and a long coat with lace at his wrists and throat and Calista was wearing a pale, shimmering gown. The color complimented their amethyst eyes and their sleek, platinum blonde hair, which both of them wore long to frame their perfect features.
My heart went cold when I saw them standing in my doorway. There was so much they could do to me—their magic had grown considerably since that day when Quill had punished them for tormenting me. And I still had none—not a drop of magic in my veins to protect myself.
“What’s the matter, dear Cousin? Aren’t you happy to see us?” Asfaloth sneered as he and Calista stepped into my room. “We’ve come to wish you joy on your special day.”
“I know exactly how much joy you wish me,” I said steadily. “Which is exactly as much as I wish for you.”
“Oh, we will have joy—plenty of it—as soon as you are gone,” Asfaloth told me. “And twice as much joy as soon as your tired old father finally steps down and we ascend the throne.”
I frowned at them.
“You were made his heir when Quillian was killed, Asfaloth, but you cannot ascend the throne with your sister. I am certain my father means for you to choose a bride from among the Court ladies, to rule with you, as he and my mother ruled together.”
“Before you killed her, you mean,” Calista snapped. “Who says my brother cannot choose me to rule with him? There is no law against it!”
I was pretty sure there was, but I was also fairly certain they were looking for a reason to be nasty to me, so I held my tongue.
“Indeed, sweet sister, you shall rule by my side.” Asfaloth looped an arm around her slender waist and pulled her closer. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on the corner of her perfect mouth. Only Calista turned her head at the last moment and his lips landed exactly on hers. Nor did she pull away for quite a long moment.
“Mmm, indeed I shall, brother,” she murmured, when at last their kiss ended. They locked eyes and I was almost certain she was going to kiss him back.
For a moment I hoped that the two of them would become too engrossed in each other to bother me, but then Asfaloth pulled reluctantly away and looked down his perfectly straight nose at me.
“So, as I said earlier—we have come to wish you joy. And to give you an idea of what you can expect—since you have never seen your groom-to-be, dear Cousin.”
“And you have?” I shot back. “He is prince of the Unseelie Court—you can’t tell me you’ve ever been there—either of you.”
“As if we’d want to visit such a horrid place!” Calista shivered delicately in apparent horror. She didn’t seem to care that the place that made her wince in disgust was to be my home for the rest of my life.
“Of course we’ve never been to the Winter Court. I have seen him on the battlefield, you little fool,” Asfaloth snapped. “And let me tell you, you’re in for a treat on your wedding night!”
“Liath Blackthorn is huge!” Calista’s eyes widened. “I saw him through my brother’s eyes,” she added. “Perfectly enormous with dirty gray skin and an ugly, twisted scar right across his face. And he has horns on his head! Rams horns!” she motioned to either side of her own sleek blonde head, as though to make her point.
“It’s well known that the Unseelie are so twisted they’ll fuck anything,” Asfaloth scoffed. “Perhaps the Unseelie Royal line includes a bit of sheep somewhere in the lineage. Or maybe something even worse.”
