We drew to a halt.
“Do you like it?” Edric asked, beaming as though he’d presented her with a dream instead of a trap.
Quinn scanned the room without really seeing it. “It is remarkably…” She forced a brittle smile. “Efficient.”
Edric laughed—loud, practiced. “Only the best for my bride. You deserve that, after all you’ve endured.”
Deserve.
There was nothing this asshole could do that would make up for cursing someone for three hundred years. It struck me as odd that all of this was here so quickly. Did he know she would come here? No, he couldn’t possibly…but I was unconvinced.
“So, you keep an entire bridal market ready in case you need it?” I asked the king, watching his expression closely.
“I’m the king.” Edric released a fake, gracious laugh. “I could have anything from the whole of Avandria delivered to me within a month. All of this,” he waved around the space, “is only from Aurillion. And I have hundreds of servants at my disposal.”
I gritted my teeth together. Of course, he viewed the ungifted people he kept as servants as disposable. Saints, I hated this man.
“It also helps that word was sent from Rouzbeh about a Twilight having visited,” Edric added.
“Rouzbeh?” I repeated.
Quinn’s chin trembled. “The goblins told you I was in Rouzbeh?”
“I told you, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere,” he said, smiling at her with a look that made my stomach churn. “I was told they found a Twilight. Seeing as how you’re the only one, I assumed it was you.”
He assumed a lot more than that.
He assumed we were coming to the capital.
He assumed Quinn would accept his proposal.
The audacity of this man truly knew no bounds.
“Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself, King Eat-a-dick,” I said, pretending to marvel at the ballroom.
“What did you say?” he snapped.
I pressed a palm to my chest, feigning offense. “What did you think I said?”
“Eat a—” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. This way, Quinnie.”
I chanced a glance at Quinn. Despite her excellent manners, she did not strike me as a glowing, blushing bride. She looked like a woman walking through the bars of her own prison and choosing the paint color.
Dress after dress was held up.
She nodded at one. Shrugged at another.
A servant presented a flower combination and asked, “Do you prefer the dusk roses or the pearl-crowned hyacinths, Your Grace?”
Quinn blinked slowly, then pointed. “Those. I suppose.”
I followed at a distance as they made their way around the room, Edric talking the entire time, gesturing, flattering, asking questions that didn’t require answers.
“This cake is made with a honey glaze and a whisper of starlight spice—one of our chef’s more inspired creations.”
“Shall we match your gown to the colors of your birth moon?”
“I had the chandeliers re-enchanted. I want the light to catch your hair just right when we say our vows.”
