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Garrick’s grasp tightened. “It won’t come true,” he said, his voice lowered. “They’ll take control of me as soon as we enter the hall where the feast is to take place, but Aspen will be there. She has a plan.”
“So do I,” I murmured.
A few guards pulled away from the walls to escort us, preventing further conversation about plans. Instead, I tossed Garrick a questioning look.
“You have extra guards because the king and queen want to ensure your safety, especially once your engagement is announced,” he explained wryly. “Despite your heritage and your magic, it’s possible the fact that you’re human will turn some against you and this union.” He cast me a piercing look. “Nothing will happen to you though; I’ll make sure of that.”
My heart warmed at his words.
At last, we rounded a final turn in one of the endless stone hallways and approached a set of open double doors leading into an enormous room. Music, talk, laughter, and warmth all poured from within, along with the tantalizing scents of endless mouthwatering foods. Beneath banners emblazoned with the Silverfrost sigil—crossed silver swords on a backdrop of blue—and intricate tapestries, long tables laden with the feast rested against one wall. On the opposite side were more tables and chairs, full of chattering fae of all appearances, some dressed as formally as I was, others clothed more for battle or hunting like Garrick, and a few so scantily clad that I had to avert my eyes. Nearby, a roaring fire filled a huge hearth. The middle of the room was wide and open, likely for dancing to the songs musicians serenaded us with.
Beyond all of this, on the far end of the room, was a stone dais. More banners hung from the ceiling, and an impressively large window bathed the space in the glow of the sun’s last rays. Sitting in that glow, like angelic beings gracing us with their powerful presence, were King Preston and Queen Nerissa. Each occupied intricately carved wood thrones. While Preston was adorned all in black, emphasizing his dark eyes and every sharp angle of his harsh face, Nerissa wore rich blue and silver, makingher appear every inch the cold, foreboding winter queen. Both wore their silver crowns and matching arrogant grins.
Preston’s gaze snagged on mine, and the breath froze in my lungs. There was a taunting look on his face, like he was daring me to complain about my dress or about the mark I bore on my back. I was trapped in his sick game, and he was enjoying my misery.
While the guards trailing us found positions along the walls, Garrick drew me into the room, past the tables. Talk and laughter ceased as fae studied me, some with respectful dips of their heads, a few with uncertainty, and still others with outright scorn. Behind the tables, rows of empty-eyed human servants stood against the wall, waiting to serve the fae. The sight made me want to scream.
I scanned the gathered fae fruitlessly, wondering which shoulder my pixie friend might be perched upon, hoping I’d find her soon. In a sea of strangers and enemies, with Garrick stiff and stone-faced at my side—already lost to the siblings’ control—I longed for the comforting sight of an ally still in possession of her free will.
A troll bared its teeth as we drew close, and Garrick set his free hand on the hilt of one of his knives in a silent warning. The creature lumbered away, but I didn’t miss the resentment burning in its pale yellow eyes.
When we neared the dais, Garrick dipped into a low bow, but I stood rigidly to await Preston as he rose and strode slowly down the steps. The twisted smile he wore made my stomach spasm in response. “Snowflake. How good to see you looking...almost as well as the rest of us.” He chuckled at his jab.
Nerissa followed him, waving a bored hand to signal Garrick to rise and come stand at her side. Eyes locked on me, she snaked her arm around his waist and pulled him against her,pressing her lips to his. I turned away, staring toward the window and swallowing the bile rising in my throat.
“Never fear,” Preston muttered at my side, his expression cold as he surveyed his court, “I have no desire to taint myself in such a way with you, human.”
But what about when he would need heirs? The thought made my stomach churn; he might not desire to touch me, but he’d probablyneedto. I shook the worry away, not letting it linger. I wasn’t going to marry him, which meant that I’d never have to concern myself with such things.
Grasping my arm, he turned me to face the crowd. My gown rustled and the room seemed to spin as I tried to look unafraid while searching the countless unfriendly faces.
“Citizens of Silverfrost,” King Preston began, “loyal members of our court. We bid you enjoy our celebration as we welcome Florentia Silverfrost to our kingdom.”
My pulse throbbed in my temples. Somehow, I’d imagined there would be more time before he made this announcement. But here it was, happening immediately, and I could feel the walls closing in.
As I forced myself to concentrate, I realized Preston had been speaking the whole time, while I’d stood statue-still with a smile plastered to my mouth. “And it is my great honor to announce that Miss Silverfrost, our hope in these difficult times, has agreed to join with me in matrimony and be my revered consort. Please give her the respect she deserves as my future bride and our kingdom’s future security.”
The applause that erupted was mixed: some courtiers seemed genuinely pleased, either thrilled to honor me as their hoped-for savior, or content to know I would not rule, only stand beside their immortal rulers as a figurehead. Others’ expressions made it clear they loathed the thought of a human marrying oneof their kind at all. They fought disgust as they forced themselves to cheer at their sovereign’s bidding.
I’d scarcely had time to shake the echo of Preston’s announcement from my ears before he seized my arm and nearly dragged me toward the nearest table, where seats had been reserved for us, Nerissa, and Garrick. As we settled into our chairs, Nerissa clapped her hands and servants rushed to the side tables, filling trays with food and then making rounds, offering the fae their pick of food with which to fill their plates.
I tried not to look too closely at the mortal man’s blank face as he stepped up behind me, holding out his tray for Preston and me to peruse. I selected an assortment of cheeses and fruits, a slice of bread, and braised beef in gravy. Despite my lack of appetite, I knew how important it was to keep up my strength—especially considering this food wouldn’t be laced with forget-me-nots. As much as I wanted to build up my immunity, I knew eating untainted food would be wise, a way for me to remain powerful and wield a little bit of control over my doses of the flowers.
Between chewing bites of food, avoiding glancing toward the servants or Garrick and the way they all resembled puppets on strings, and pretending to smile and laugh when courtiers introduced themselves and offered false congratulations and praise, time inched by miserably. On my right, Nerissa ignored me in favor of her wolf shifter, leaning over to whisper in his ear and trail lecherous fingers down his chest. My stomach was in a constant knot. The one blessing of the meal was that Preston hardly spared me another glance. As promised, he didn’t try to touch me. Didn’t attempt to pretend to be a doting fiancé.
At long last, the music swelled, and servants began clearing empty plates. Couples started to rise from the tables and swirl and sway together across the open floor. Preston left to mingle with courtiers further down the table, and I drew my first deepbreath of the evening, feeling free at last to stand and hunt for Aspen.
My heart leapt when I spotted her two tables down, sitting cross-legged on the tabletop with an empty pixie-sized plate before her and a glass of gold fae wine in her hand. Her emerald dress set off her brown skin, its skirts pooling around her legs as she giggled at something the woman at her side had said. As soon as Aspen’s eyes met mine, her grin turned saucy, and she lifted her glass in a toast. “A hearty congratulations! You are a vision, Your Majesty.”
As Aspen took a deep gulp of her wine, staining her lips gold, the other woman shot her a questioning glance. I had a feeling she didn’t appreciate the fact that Aspen had called meYour Majesty.
I cleared my throat. “Aspen, may I have a word?”
She stood, nodding until her curls bounced.
When I offered a hand, she strolled across my palm and up my dress sleeve until she reached my shoulder. “Walk about the room, could you?” she asked as she settled in a seat, kicking her legs and sipping at her wine.
With a silent dip of my head to the stranger, who continued to watch us both warily, I began to circle the room leisurely, doing my best to dodge anyone who wanted to speak to me.
