I lift my chin in defiance. “Fine.”
My father’s stride is measured and stiff, his jaw tight. My brother follows as Father leads me away from the prying eyes of the staff, and into the throne room, the great doors closing behind us with a resounding boom.
Father sits on his throne, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Have you chosen a suitor?”
“No, I have not,” I reply, completely unrepentant.
The wood creaks as he tightens his grip. “You leave me no choice, then.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
He exhales, long and slow, as if the weight of the entire kingdom presses down upon him, simply because I’ve not picked a husband. “I will choose one for you.”
My stomach drops. “Wait.What?”
I glance helplessly at my brother and his expression is stone, just like my father’s.
“Youcannotbe serious!”
He meets my gaze evenly. “I am.”
Panic curls like a cold fist in my chest, and I look once more at Aldric, silently pleading for him to come to my aid, but he remains silent.
“Fine,” I say primly. “If you’re so determined to see me married, then I’ll choose.”
My mind starts sifting through the various nobles. Perhaps the High Elf Prince. He may be vain, but heishandsome. And his kingdom is supposed to be wondrously beautiful.
Or maybe the Fae Lord. I’m a princess, but marrying beneath my station wouldn’t necessarily be bad. I’d probably be left to my own devices more often than not, and it would be a great deal less responsibility than being a queen...
“It’s too late for that,” Father snaps. “You’ve already insulted every man here. No one will have you. They are leaving.” He gestures to the window and the trail of carriages and horses riding away from the castle. “All of them. Even after I discreetly had my advisor inform everyone that I’d doubled your dowry.”
Desperation fills me. My gaze flicks to the edge of the room—to a servant, to a guard—anyone, but they each drop their eyes and subtly step back, as if afraid I might choose one of them.
The realization hits like a slap. Even with a dowry that could buy an entire kingdom… I have made myself unacceptable.
But my pride quickly kicks in and I scoff, insulted. I’m smart, beautiful, cultured… well-read. Any man would be fortunate to have me as his wife.
“You’ve left me with no choice, Vivienne,” Father says. “The next man to walk through those doors will be your husband.”
My jaw drops but I quickly snap it shut. “Very well,” I reply, calling his bluff.Two can play at this game.
My smirk falters when Father doesn’t so much as flinch.
I open my mouth to speak, but the doors creak open, and in walkshim.
The Dark Elf soldier.
He strides across the throne room, dressed in black armor and a long dark cape. I wasn’t able to see him clearly last night in the darkness, but his gray-blue skin is spotless now, no longer streaked with dirt, but his armor is still worn, scratched from countless battles.
His hair, shorn close on one side, sweeps across his jaw on the left, midnight-dark against the sharp angles of his frustratingly handsome face. And those glowing blue eyes—like frozen fire—lock onto mine.
Heat rises in my cheeks as a slow, sharp smile tugs at his irritatingly gorgeous, full lips.
I clear my throat and look away, embarrassed by my reaction to him.What in the seven hells is he doing here anyway?
“I bring a message from the Dark Elf King.” He bows and hands my father a sealed parchment.
Father takes it, breaking the wax seal. I barely see him scanning the contents, because my eyes are still locked on the Dark Elf guard.
