“No!” I stumble backward, my hands up, breaking their contact. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
They don’t listen. They grab at me again, their fingers wrapping around my upper arms.
“What is the meaning of this?” Master Roland’s voice booms across the tent. He walks over to us, his face red. He will fix this. He has to. “Unhand her! She’s done nothing wrong!”
“Stand aside,” one of the guards barks.
“I will not!” Master Roland plants himself in front of us, his arms spread wide. “She is under my protection. She is part of my troupe. You have no right—”
“We have every right.” The guard’s voice is cold. “She will be taken in for questioning.” He jerks his head toward the king. “No one may leave this tent. You all need to be questioned.”
“Question her here, then, like all the others.” Master Roland’s face is turning purple now. “This is an outrage!”
“No. She’s coming with us. We need to get to the bottom of what happened here. There is talk of a beam of light.” The guard glances at me, his eyes narrowed.
“What happened has nothing to do with Isla. In fact, she was—” Master Roland starts to say. I can see the guard getting agitated. I’m worried they might arrest him if he doesn’t let up soon.
“It’s alright.” I try to keep my voice steady. “I will go with them and clear this up. Don’t worry, I will be back before you know it.”
“No, my dear. That will not be necessary.” He turns to the guards. “I demand to speak with your captain. You cannot simply—"
“It’s alright,” I insist.
The guard tightens his grip on my arm. “Let’s go.”
Master Roland looks at me, his eyes filled with concern and helplessness. There’s nothing he can do. We both know it.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I will be fine.” I give him a smile, trying hard to mean it when I am terrified that I have been caught out.
They know.
They must know.
They drag me toward the exit. The king is being escorted out as well, flanked by a whole host of guards. He still looks dazed, like he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening.
Where did he come from?
What happened?
The details elude me. I can’t tear my eyes off him. I felt his confusion. His pain. I felt his loneliness, loss…sorrow. All of it. His helplessness and frustration.
I felt him for a moment.
Like I brushed up against his broken soul for a heartbeat.
“Come along, human,” the guard to my right growls when my step falters.
The fae turns, his eyes flaring as they land on me.
“Leave the human be.” His voice is deep and commanding. The guards around him snap to attention. I’m not sure they even realize that they are doing it.
Our eyes meet and lock, and time seems to slow.
His irises are a pure, vivid purple, like amethysts catching the sun. They’re the most extraordinary eyes I’ve ever seen. Freakish, yes, but also beautiful. Mesmerizing even.
I’ve heard tales of eyes like these. I’ve heard all about King Sebastian. One of the lost.
Not anymore.
