Marus exchanges polite nods with my stepmother before his gaze lands on me. “How good of you to come,” he says, eyes lingering on mine far too long considering the words are meant for Mrs. Coleman.
“No, it is far too good of you, Brother Marus,” she says. She takes a step to the side, waving at her daughters to do the same, and in turn revealing more of me. “You met my stepdaughter, Ember Montgomery.”
“I’m delighted to see you again,” he says with a smile. One that would make him handsome if it weren’t for the waves of disgust surging through my body.
I somehow manage a nod when all I want to do is run away again.
“And these are my daughters,” Mrs. Coleman says, stealing his attention back to herself, “Imogen and Clara Coleman.”
His smile is more subdued for them. “A pleasure. Please, come in.” Extending an arm, he steps to the side and beckons us through the doorway.
My stepfamily enters first, and I hear their gasps before I can make sense of why. As I follow them inside, I find a luxurious parlor with fine furniture one would expect of a fae royal—moonstone walls, opal floors, onyx tables and chairs. The sconces glow with orbs of pale light reminiscent of the moon. Several doors branch off from the parlor, telling me this is more than just a single room.
“These are the apartments gifted to me by the queen herself,” Brother Marus says. “I hardly have need for so much space, so I am more than happy to put my extra rooms to use.”
Mrs. Coleman’s smile brightens with greed. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Wait,” Clara says, pausing her open-mouthed inspection of the parlor. “We’re staying here?”
Imogen elbows her sister for her tactless outburst, but Brother Marus laughs. “Yes. Your mother and I have come to…an arrangement,” he says.
Imogen looks him over, as if seeing him for the first time. “What kind of arrangement?”
His gaze slides to me, and the blood drains from my face. The heat in his expression makes me feel suddenly naked despite my modest dress. I get the urge to shove my mask back on, but I can’t bring myself to lift my arms. “One of great marital happiness.”
I take a step back, but my legs feel as if they’re made from water. No. No. This can’t be happening.
Imogen’s eyes turn hard, her lips pursed tight as realization seems to strike her. Whirling toward her mother, she whispers furiously, “You can’t be serious.”
Mrs. Coleman ignores her and sweeps over to me. Like the last time I stood before Marus, she places a hand on my shoulder. Claiming. Threatening.
The touch seems to snap me out of my stupor, and I whirl to face her. “I will not marry him.”
A crimson flush creeps behind her glamour, and she tosses an apologetic smile at Brother Marus. “She doesn’t mean it. It’s shock—”
“It is not shock,” I say, tearing out of her grasp. “I won’t do it.”
Mrs. Coleman opens her mouth to argue, but Brother Marus speaks first. “I apologize if I overstepped, Miss Montgomery. I should have waited until we were in private to declare my intentions.”
“The answer would have been the same,” I say through my teeth, my eyes locked on my stepmother’s.
Marus emits a low chuckle. “I’ll give you a moment alone.” With a bow, he heads for one of the rooms at the other end of the parlor.
Once the door clicks shut behind him, Mrs. Coleman bounds forward, both hands grasping my shoulders. “You ungrateful, wretched girl.”
Tears prick my eyes, and a lump sears my throat. “How could you? How could you eventhinkI would marry him? You know what he represents. What his brotherhood did to my mother.”
“Don’t be such a simpering child,” she says, giving my shoulders a shake. “You will marry Brother Marus.”
I shake my head. “I won’t. You can’t make me.”
She narrows her eyes, a cruel smile twisting her face into something monstrous. Something I’ve always known her to be. “Can’t I?”
Pressure squeezes my chest as her words ring true. Until I’m free from our bargain, she can force me to obey her, to do anything she wants. My only defense would be to suffer the pain my refusal would inflict. Can I endure such torment for two weeks? Or will it kill me first? If I were full fae, it most certainly would.
“Mother, it isn’t fair,” Imogen says, and for one unfathomable moment, I think she’s coming to my defense. “Ember was never supposed to marry before me or Clara.”
Mrs. Coleman keeps her grip tight on my shoulders as she swivels her head toward her daughters. “Not fair? What’s not fair? An apartment at the palace? Positions at court for an entire month?”
