She did look then, seeing the truth in what he said. The calculating gazes, the whispered conversations behind fans, the way eyes tracked their movement with keen interest. For the first time since arriving at the Forest Court, she didn't feel like prey.
She felt like a queen.
"You're doing something to me," Eliam said suddenly, his voice low enough only she could hear. "Something I don't understand."
"What do you mean?"
"This." He gestured subtly between them. "The way I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was gone. The way seeing you in that dress, in my crown, makes me want to cancel this entire ball and keep you to myself. The way I'm already dreading tomorrow's hunt because it means hours without you beside me."
Her throat tightened. "Eliam…"
"I know." He spun them through a complex series of steps that left her breathless. "I'm not supposed to feel this way. You're human. Fragile. Temporary. But when you went under that ice..." His hand tightened on her waist. "Something in me broke at the thought of losing you. And I don't understand why."
"Maybe that's enough," she said softly. "Not understanding but feeling it anyway."
"Spoken like a human." But his tone was fond rather than mocking. "Always so ready to accept mystery."
The dance carried them through the ballroom, past clusters of whispering courtiers and fae lords who watched with sharp interest. An hour passed in swirls of silk and music. Then another. Her feet should have hurt in the delicate shoes, but adrenaline and the surreal quality of the night kept her moving.
No sign of autumn colors. No golden-haired destroyer. Just dance after dance, Eliam's hands never leaving her for long, his presence a dark constant that had become oddly comforting.
The warmth in her chest pulsed, reaching for him with something that felt dangerously close to hope. Maybe Malus had changed his mind. Maybe he'd taken his freedom and fled far from here. Maybe she could actually have this.
"Whatever you're thinking about," Eliam said, "stop. You're tensing up again."
"Sorry. It's just… this is all so much."
"The night's barely begun." He spun her through a complex turn that left her breathless. "Wait until after tomorrow's hunt. The revelry then makes this look tame."
They danced until her legs trembled with exhaustion, until the other courtiers began to watch with knowing smiles, until Eliam finally guided her toward the throne. The court sensed something formal approaching and began to gather.
"Stand beside me," he commanded softly. "Where you belong."
She took her place at his right hand, the circlet heavy on her brow. The warmth in her chest settled into steady contentment. Whatever happened, she'd had this, these hours of being his chosen, of dancing in his arms, of feeling like she belonged.
"Lords and ladies," Eliam began, his voice carrying to every corner of the ballroom. "Tonight marks more than the eve of our Wild Hunt. Tonight, I wish to formally announce—"
The doors opened with quiet authority. No dramatic entrance, just the subtle shift of air that made every fae in the room turn.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
Briar felt her heart sink.
Malus strolled in like he'd been invited, autumn colors rich against his golden beauty. Hanging on his arm, dressed in warm yellows and bronze finery, her expression serene as still water—
Ferria.
Briar's blood went cold. Ferria, who had given her the leaf, who had advocated for the safety of the Star Court and had sent her to the dungeons with kind words about mercy. Understanding crashed over her like a wave. She had been played by her from the beginning.
Briar felt Eliam go utterly still beside her. It wasn’t the stillness of shock, but the stillness of a predator spotting impossible prey. His hand found her wrist, grip careful but firm, already drawing her behind him as he stepped forward.
"Brother." The single word carried lethal weight. "How… unexpected. Last I checked, you were supposed to be in chains."
"Chains break. Locks open. Even your dungeons aren't as secure as you believed." Malus moved forward with casual confidence, the crowd parting in confusion and growing alarm. "Your little mouse here can attest to that."
The silence that followed was deafening. Briar felt every eye turn to her, felt Eliam's grip on her wrist shift from protective to restraining.
"What did you say?" Eliam's voice had gone soft, which Briar knew was infinitely more dangerous than shouting.
