But itistrue!
I open my mouth to say so—then stop.
“What happens if I tell you again that I’m not the princess?” I ask him instead.
Had I called him terrifying before?
The look he gives me—cold, hollow, inhuman—sends a shiver down my spine.
“Then I will take you to the Elephim royal family’s tents and have them verify your claim. If they confirm it, that means your kingdom is in violation of our pact. And I will give your king the same choice I gave theirs.”
A choice.
I swallow hard because I know what our king would choose.
The palace would burn. Along with every wooden shack, where our farmers and townsfolk scrape by.
My father’s gardens—upheld for hundreds of solars by his hands and those of his ancestors—would vanish in flame. Forever.
I want to scream. To shout that none of this is fair. That this isn’t justice.
But images rush through me.
My father’s knotted hands, coaxing green life from soil.
The kitchen girl who sings while scrubbing the floors.
The cook who always gives me extra cookies.
The laundress who told me she was planning to ask for her girlfriend’s hand in marriage on Harvest Festival Day, just a few more months away.
I swallow again.
And put back on the mask that terror had knocked off.
“Okay. I am Princess Seraphyne.”
Inside, I am screaming.
But outside, I say, “I am the Stone Bride.”
Acquiescence
VEYRION
No more screaming.No more protesting. The reckoning goes exactly as I knew it would.
Princess Seraphyne spares herself the embarrassment of having Elephim’s royal family expose her lie. She simply confesses, then nods when I ask if she’s ready to return to the Stone Fae Castle.
“I need a moment, though.” Her voice sounds strangely choked. “May I have your lantern?”
I hand her the lantern but keep an eye on her as she searches the ground for reasons unknown. I refuse to ask.
I have already wasted enough time playing silly games with her because of her lie. I shall not indulge her further.
Eventually, she finds whatever it is she is looking for in the dirt and stuffs it into the pocket of her ill-fitting dress.
“Okay, I’m ready to go back to your castle,” she says, handing me back the lantern.
