Fuck.A growl underlined his words, his eyes burning as he spoke. The Fae were possessive creatures, and this particular Fae’s sight was set on me. He acted like I should be oh-so-grateful for it. Absolute arrogance. He never even considered I wouldn’t want this. And this choice before me—this was dangerous. Princes, and Fae in general, didn’t react well when told no—especially by humans.
I wished Emmie was here. She would know what to do. Court life and games were her apparent specialty. But me—I had no idea. Was this some sort of game? Did he truly want me? A human? Why, when he had so many others at his disposal? Fae and human alike.
“And if I don’t want that?” I dared to ask quietly, afraid of what his answer might be—how he might punish me if he didn’t get what he wanted.
But Cyrus just sat back, putting his arm up over the sofa back, and smirked. “Deny me all you want, but eventually, you will come to my bed, little human. For now, you will act as my…assistant, of sorts. Until such time as you see sense.”
I nearly snorted at that assumption. That would not be happening. I would never lower myself into willingly bedding my master.
“When you make the right decision, I will shower you with every luxury you could ever want. You will belong to me, and me alone. Think about it.” Cyrus smiled, a sharp canine glinting in the light. Maybe it was supposed to be a comforting smile, or a seductive one, but all I could think of was the humans whipped during Placement.
The door to my new room opened then, and a woman about ten years my senior walked in, bowing to the prince. Her face was still unlined, but the years seemed to weigh on it,nonetheless. A weariness that spoke of hard work and days without sleep. Her curly brown hair was tied in a tight bun on her head, and her sharp gray eyes took me in with intense focus. I felt like my skin was crawling as I was looked over and judged.
The woman’s tanned skin was mostly covered by a charcoal gray dress with a white apron over it. There wasn’t a stain in place. Not like my mother’s ratty apron, which was covered in them. Hers was immaculate. Did she even use it? Or did the king and queen demand their slaves keep spots and stains out of their royal sights.
“Ah, good.” Cyrus stood up in one smooth movement, and I followed his lead, if less smoothly. “Asteria, this is Whina. She has belonged to my mother for many years now. She will instruct you on everything you need to know.”
He swept out of the room, leaving me with a sinking feeling in my gut. The enchanting, beautiful, arrogant, and cruel Fae prince wantedme. What did I do with that?
Did I resist, keeping to my morals and sense of righteous indignation? I would be guaranteed an easier life than I could find anywhere else, and if push came to shove, I couldn’t deny I was attracted to him. But he owned me, and the thought of giving in made disgust rise hot and heavy in my throat. I didn’t want to give him more of me than he already had, but would it prove even more dangerous for me not to? Would he punish me for it? Was it time to kiss all my unachievable dreams of freedom goodbye forever?
Maybe it was time to grow up and accept that, now that I was an adult, there was no happy ending waiting for me. My dreams of such were inspired by tales I read so many times, I eventually grew bored of them. We’d only had one fairytale book in our schoolhouse, and it contained only a handful of them. Passed down year to year, it was in terrible shape as children foughtover it daily. So, I resorted to inventing my own and making myself the princess in the tale.
What a joke I now found myself in front of a prince at last, only to find myself deciding whether or not to leave such childish hopes behind.
Chapter 4
Ispentthe entire rest of the day following Whina around. I knew I looked as out of place as I felt. Everything about the Dusk Kingdom was so…other.
The cold marble halls felt suffocating despite being so much larger than our little house. I was rarely inside at home, always under the open sky where the sun or the stars could shine down on me, and I could breathe the fresh air.
Even the people here were so much more rigid and uncompromising. Everyone hurried to and fro with some task to complete. I supposed it may have been similar inside the vineyard as well, but when the people were in the village, no one rushed around like this. And they never walked around with their chins high and noses in the air.
One lady who passed by me gave me a once over before sniffing disdainfully. She wasn’t even Fae! She was as human as I was.Though, in her stiff charcoal dress, so unlike the breezy linens of Sunrise, and with her coiffed black hair, I was sure she looked much more put together than me.
I was still in the dress I arrived in, and I could feel a chill throughout the palace that caused goosebumps to rise on my skin. I could see why they didn’t wear linen here. My hair was still a dark cascade down my back, as loose and flowing as my dress. Most of the women who passed by had their hair up. I assumed that it was easier for them to complete their duties with their hair out of the way, but I hated having my hair up. It always pulled on my scalp and gave me a headache.
This was going to be miserable.
Was this really the rest of my life?
Before despair or self-pity could fully set in, Whina smacked me on the arm and I quickly looked over, trying to pretend I was paying attention. Her glare made it clear I failed miserably.
Whina was a harsh taskmaster. She sent instructions flying at me. From when Prince Cyrus would take his meals, to what to do with laundry, to how to arrange meetings and visits from nobility or favorites of his Highness; the list was never ending. Though she’d assured me that I wouldn’t be expected to do these tasks for long, just ensure others did as Cyrus’s assistant.
“Now, what is the process for his Highness meeting with other members of nobility?” Whina quizzed me, her narrowed eyes and rising brow making me cringe.
“We’re to send a letter to the other noble’s assistant and request the meeting formally. Then—” I trailed off, biting my lip.
The smack on my arm came without warning—the sixth I’d received within the hour. My arm was red and sore, and I ground my teeth to keep from snapping or hitting her back. As much as I may want to, it would do me no favors. This was her duty, and she’d be the one in trouble if I failed to learn it. Well, we both would be, but I refused to let another get hurt because of me.
Even if my arm was screaming from the repeated smacks.
My parents had to pick grapes, in the heat, for as long as the sun burned in the sky. This had to be easier than the back-breaking work they did, right? But Old Gods, why did I end up in such a complicated situation?I could do this, I reminded myself. Working in a palace where I apparently had a big fluffy bed to return to, was hardly the height of oppression. I could be getting whipped and run into the ground as we speak for not making the “right” decision.
Cyrus’s offer still rubbed me the wrong way. He wanted me to behis. I was already his slave, and his to do with as he pleased. Why did he demand the rest of me as well? I chafed at the very idea of it. And the more I thought about it, the angrier I became.
Soren and I had spent several years sleeping together off and on. I always pulled back when he seemed to begin reading more into it than I was comfortable with. Casual sex was all I was willing to offer. When your life isn’t your own, your future isn’t something to look forward to—it’s only something to endure. I refused to let myself feel something for a person when that relationship would never be able to last.
