"Why did you do that?"
"What exactly?"
"Help me and make me look incompetent."
He stopped walking, turning to face her with those unreadable eyes. "Help you? Is that what you think happened?"
"You—"
"I prevented you from embarrassing me further." His voice dropped to something colder. "Did you think I'd allow my property to poison herself at a formal dinner? The speculation alone would be tedious. 'The Forest King can't even keep his human alive through a meal.'"
"So it was about your reputation."
"Everythingis about my reputation." He moved closer and Briar found herself retreating instinctively, stopping only when she felt the cold stone of the wall against her back. "Your incompetence reflects on me. Your failures become my failures in their eyes. That is... unacceptable."
"Then teach me properly instead of—"
His hand slammed against the stone beside her head, making her flinch. "Instead of what? Saving you from your own ignorance? You had a week to study, to prepare. You chose to spend your days weeping into pillows and plotting escape."
"That's not—"
"True?" His other hand came to circle her throat, not squeezing but present. "Every night you cried for your pathetic mortal life and every day you looked for ways to run. You had the books and you chose ignorance."
"The books contradict each other!" The words burst out before she could stop them. "One says iron burns fae, another says you wear it as jewelry. Red fruit is forbidden except when it's required. Nothing makes sense!"
"And so you gave up." His fingers tightened slightly. "Did you ask for clarification? Did you seek help understanding?"
"Would you have given it?" The challenge slipped out before she could stop it, fueled by anger and frustration. "If I'd asked for help, would you have actually explained anything?"
His lips curved into something that might have been amusement. He didn't answer, which was answer enough all on its own. They both knew he would have delighted in her confusion and would have given her more riddles instead of clarity.
"Your defiance is a luxury you can't afford," he said at last, fingers tracing the marks at her throat. "Tonight they saw weakness. Next time? They'll test it. And when they do, I won't intervene again."
"Why tell me this?"
"Because broken toys are boring." His thumb pressed into the hollow of her throat and she felt her pulse kick. "And dead ones are useless. You'll learn to navigate my world or you'll suffer the consequences. But don't mistake my pragmatism for kindness."
She met his gaze steadily. According to Thaine, past humans had lost fingers at these dinners. Had been allowed to poison themselves through ignorance. Yet Eliam had guided her hand, stopped her from eating the wrong fruit.
Perhaps it was spending dinner being mocked and ridiculed, perhaps it was the knowledge that he could have let her die and didn't, but Briar's back straightened with a newfound sense of bravery, or stupidity, it was difficult to tell. When she spoke, the words came out more confident than she expected.
"I think you're lying."
"Am I?" His smile shifted into something dangerous and calculating. "About which part?"
Her mouth went dry and she felt her resolve begin to waiver.
"Your reasons. You didn't—"
"Careful." The word hung heavy with warning. "You think because I prevented one disaster, I care about your wellbeing?" His hand tightened further, making each breath difficult. "I could let you choke on poisoned fruit tomorrow. Watch you writhe as your throat dissolves. The court would whisper about it for decades, about the human who lasted mere days."
He leaned in close, his breath warm against her neck, his lips brushing the shell of her ear when he spoke. "You think you know cruelty because I force you to kneel? Because I mark you as mine? Little thief, you haven't even glimpsed a fraction of what I'm capable of."
Fear crawled up her spine. There was something about his tone that unsettled her. Not a threat but a promise. She couldn't find words, couldn't move. The reality of her complete powerlessness pressed down on her.
“Nothing to say?' He released her throat but didn't step back. 'How disappointing. I expected more defiance.”
“You've made your point,” she whispered.
