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Time seems to slow as Rhaegar forces me toward the stage. Boos and hisses assault me from all sides. Inara’s lackeys mock me as I pass. Lyra performs a dramatic bow. Kimber doesn’t bow, but she bares her fangs at me.
Reina winks at me and mouths, you’re so dead. Her twin boy toys make vulgar gestures.
I climb the steps, my legs shaky. This will not end well.
Inara glides toward me like we’re best friends. I should have known she wouldn’t let the humiliation from last night stand. I should have been ready for something like this.
“This human thought she could come to our academy and spit on our traditions. She thinks she’s better than us. That she can come here and use spells to trick the Winter Prince into thinking he’s mated to her. First she tried to lure Rhaegar into her bed, and when that didn’t work, she went after the prince.”
A symphony of boos echo off the walls.
“She wants to become a Fae queen,” Inara continues, “so let’s make her one.”
Panic swells behind my sternum. I scan the crowd for a friendly face. I can’t breathe. Can’t move.
“On your knees,” she says pleasantly, still smiling. When I refuse, Inara motions to Reina. When I see what she holds, it takes all my willpower not to cry out.
Reina’s hand squeezes around Ruby’s body. Her other hand holds a pair of scissors.
“On your knees,” Reina orders, “or I go snip snip.”
“Don’t do it, kid!” Ruby shrieks.
But what choice do I have? My ego isn’t worth hurting my friend.
I force my head high and drop to my knees.
Reina releases Ruby, who takes to the air.
“I’m going to get help,” Ruby promises.
My eyes are trained on her form until she disappears out a side door. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it doesn’t matter. The teachers are all lesser Fae, and the Evermore students have had thousands of years to amass their powers.
The professors are terrified of them. Which means they can do whatever they want to me.
“All hail the Queen of Everwilde,” Inara says.
Raucous laughter vibrates the air. Tears wet my eyes, but I blink them back, my jaw grinding so hard my teeth ache.
“Every queen needs her king. Or in this instance, a prince.”
My blood goes cold. I glance to the right where a figure begins slowly ascending the stage.
No, it can’t be. I freeze as I take in the midnight-blue hair, for once combed neatly into submission. An ink-blue waistcoat so dark it appears black hugs his lithe form, and diamonds sparkle the length of his delicate pointed ears.
He lopes to the stage taking long, powerful strides, every movement screaming power.
A flicker of hope pierces my chest.
Inara beams as she settles a heavy silver crown over his head, just between his sharp ears.
Why is he playing along with this farce? Look at me. Please look at me—
“You never smiled for me that way,” Rhaegar whispers. He’s come up behind me. I guess he’s sided with the Unseelie now. Their mutual hatred for me a glue that binds them all together.
And I am smiling, I realize. Because if Valerian is here, he’ll put a stop to Inara and Rhaegar’s cruel game.
My gaze slides to the prince. Despite the fear rushing through my veins, I feel a twinge of happiness at seeing him. Last night’s events flash in my mind, so real I can almost feel his lips on mine, crushing me with his need. The sensation of those same lips dragging over my body is enough to make me blush.
