Dyfri, the dark-haired prince, is kneeling too. They are both frantically trying to stem the spreading gold.
The lines of horror and dismay in Selwyn’s shoulders are clear enough to cause a lump to form in my throat. All of a sudden, I’m confident that fey grieve.
Strong hands wrap around my arms. Fingers of steel biting into each of my biceps. I yelp.
Two stern-faced guards have taken hold of me.
What do I say?
What do I do?
Is there anything I can say or do?
We are moving. I don’t think my feet are touching the floor. I’m being taken somewhere.
We leave the drawing room and enter quiet hallways. Wherever I am being taken, I am going there alone. I cannot see Mother or any other humans. It is just me and these two fey guards.
We go down and down. And down some more.
My body balks when I see our destination. Not that freezing does any good. The guards simply drag me forward without even slowing their pace.
They shove me into the small cell carved out of bare earth. They shut the door made of thick wooden posts.
Then they turn and walk away. Leaving me in the dark. A patch of faintly glowing moss on the wall is the only light.
I blink as my body trembles.
I’m in a dungeon. A fey dungeon. In the bowels of the fey court.
Because the people I was with just murdered one of their princes.
“Shit,” I say silently to the dark.
I’m pretty sure assassination wasn’t Mother’s plan. She must be furious. Wherever she is.
I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight.
I can’t imagine that the fey, a race known for their cruelty, will be kind to people who assassinate their prince. They might not even care who is innocent. They could very well consider all humans the same. They have no reason to believe Lord Coxley was working alone. If he even was. Who knows who else was part of his conspiracy?
While I’m vaguely glad that not all humans wish to welcome the fey as their overlords, I really, really don’t want to be involved in any rebellion attempt. I’m far too much of a coward for that.
But here I am. A human assassin gained entry into the court as one of the guests celebrating my engagement. The blame is very clearly pointing to me.
I wrap my shaking arms around myself. My breaths are coming too fast and too shallow.
To think, less than an hour ago I was whinging about being married to a fey prince. Now, all of a sudden, that seems like a glorious and kind future.
The fates must have heard my whining.
Too late now. It’s too late to take it back. Too late to do anything. There is no apology that can fix this.
My new fate is sealed.
Whatever it might be.
Chapter three
The shadows are whispering. I am quite sure of it. I am not imagining things. I swear I have not been down here long enough to lose my mind, and besides, it is entirely possible that fey shadows whisper.
