He takes a few steps away from the table, and I follow. Once we’re out of earshot of the others, he says, “I thank you for your greatest sacrifice for the good of Eisleigh. You have brought peace for another hundred years.”
I’m not sure what to say, considering my sacrifice was forced upon me. “It is my duty.”
“And how have you been treated since you’ve been here?”
I open my mouth, but no words come. What do I even say?I was attacked by a kelpie, my sister is dead, and now I’m forced to marry a beastly fae. Oh, and did I mention, the monster I’m marrying may have murdered my sister?I want to tell him this, but I don’t, suddenly aware that everything I say could be taken back to the council and used as grounds to invalidate the treaty. “I’ve been treated…as expected,” I finally say.
“Very good. I’ll be sure to tell the council that you have taken the first step in securing the alliance. I’ll be back to oversee your wedding.” He pauses and looks around the room. “Where is your sister? I know her marriage alliance was forgone, which surprised the council, but at least yours will continue as planned. Still, I’m surprised she isn’t here at all.”
My mouth falls open. How does he not know? “My sister is—”
“There you are, my mate.” Aspen steps between me and the vicar. “It’s time for us to retire.”
“But—”
He raises his voice over mine, addressing the room at large. “Thank you for attending our celebration and witnessing this first step in securing the treaty. You may stay or you may return to your courts, I don’t care.”
The ambassadors burst into laughter, although based on Aspen’s disinterested tone, his words hadn’t been made in jest.
He continues. “My mate and I will retire now.” With that, he takes my arm and pulls me toward the hall. Before we reach it, I catch Cobalt’s eyes flashing me a warning. I give him a subtle nod.Don’t worry, Cobalt. I know what happens next.
In the hall, a pair of guards flank us, and I pull free from Aspen’s grasp. “How does the vicar not know what happened to Amelie?”
He lets out an irritated grumble. “Come.”
“No, not until you tell me.”
His face transforms into a smile, but the effect is more devious than kind. “Our room is this way, mate,” he says too loud, eyes flashing over my head.
I turn, finding a fae figure—the one from the Sea Court—hovering in the doorway of the dining room, her bunny-fae companion kissing her ear. Then another fae, the glittering one, peeks into the hall.
Now that I know we have an audience, I understand Aspen’s forced smile. He extends his hand to me. I grit my teeth and take it.
I remain quiet as we continue down the halls, flanked by the two guards. The eerie feeling I’m being watched follows me. We ascend a staircase, and I wonder if he’s taking me to the balcony where we had our ceremony. Instead, he stops before the final staircase that would lead there and turns to an ornate pair of doors protected by another set of guards who open them for us. Aspen all but pushes me inside before slamming the doors shut behind us.
“Do you want war?” he shouts, rounding on me.
“Excuse me?”
“Because that’s what will happen if your people think your sister is dead.”
My hands clench into fists. “Are you saying no one knows the truth? Not even our mother?”
“No one can know a thing until I am certain what happened.”
My voice rises to a shout as I close the distance between us. “So you haven’t taken her body to Mother to be buried? What are you doing with it then? Where is she?”
“Lower your voice,” he hisses. “I am taking care of it.”
My stomach churns. What does that mean? What does any of this mean?
He turns his back on me and storms over to a small table. There he pours wine from a decanter and swallows the glassful in a single gulp. As he stands there, eyes closed, I take in my surroundings.
We’re inside an immense bedroom, lit by a fire roaring in a hearth as well as several of the orb-like lights above the sconces on the walls. The bed sits in the center of the room, the base consisting of elegant roots that seem to be growing straight from the floor, its posts of slender, white birch. Branches tangle overhead with red-orange leaves to form a canopy, and the blankets are bronze silk brocade.
I turn in a circle, taking in the rest of the room—furnishings of deep, dark wood, plush rugs, a turreted ceiling painted like an autumn sky. I’ve never seen such elegance, such autumn incarnate indoors. When I finish my circle, I’m again facing Aspen. I must have caught him off guard, because he watches me with the same curious look I saw on his face after our kiss.
I watch him right back, eyes narrowing to slits.
