The entrance to Elheart’s palace is just as grand as the rest of it. An archway has been carved into the salt wall. Two stone gargoyles stand guard on columns either side. Through the arch, the beautiful palace gleams against the blue morning sky. The sight should take my breath away, but I only feel panic in my chest.
I don’t hide my shaking, though. It fits the script Tauren and I decided on.
In and out. Just like we planned.
“Princess Dahlia is here. Alert His Lordship at once,” the guards tell a servant by the arch.
Eyes wide, she scurries off while I follow the two guards down a gravel path that leads to the palace.
“His Lordship should be in the throne room at this time of day,” the shorter one informs me. “We’ll take you to him now.”
I chew my lip. “Actually, I’d really rather be taken to my bedchamber first. I desperately need my handmaid to run me a bath, and my clothes are ruined from the woods. I wouldn’t want to offend?—”
“Lord Elheart will want to see you immediately,” the taller one cuts me off. “He is a good lord, not a barbaric demon. He will not care about your clothes.”
“I really must insist?—”
“He would be more offended if we did not take you straight to him,” the shorter one says before smiling at me. “You’re safe here now, Your Highness. You do not need to be afraid.”
But all I feel is fear as I’m whisked through the palace and led through another arch that opens up into a massive throne room.
I look up, gasping. The painted ceiling is high enough to make my head spin. Sunlight spills through the tall windows, basking the hall in fresh morning light. I feel none of its warmth as my gaze lowers to the dais.
Seated upon a gold throne, stroking the thigh of a familiar blonde woman who’s perched upon his lap, is a man almost as old as Father.
“Lord Elheart,” the guard at my side calls out to him. Both guards drop into a low bow. I follow suit, sweeping my leg back into a curtsy.
When my gaze lifts, his glassy blue eyes are staring right at me. There’s something about them that reminds me of someone else I know, but I don’t let myself think about it.
“Princess Dahlia,” he purrs. He flicks his wrist, and Lady Urma slides off his lap. There’s anger in her pretty face, but I ignore it, keeping my chin high.
I’m not here to steal the old troll. She can keep him.
The messenger who accompanied her to the demon court is here, too. He whispers something into Elheart’s ear before Elheart grins and dismisses them both.
“My messenger confirms it really is you, dear one.” He tips his balding head, his gaze trailing down my skin. I focus on the blue and gold banners behind him. “It is a pleasure to seeyou here, but I’ll admit I’m surprised to hear of your escape. However did you manage it?”
“The wedding ceremony was being held in the castle grounds,” I recite the line Tauren gave me. “Right before the ceremony, I saw an opportunity to slip away from my servants and I took it. I was able to run through the woods all the way here.”
“And it took you a whole week to find us?” He leans back in his throne, his belly straining against his tunic. “How did you survive out there?”
“I ate berries and drank water from the river.” I clasp my hands in front of me. “It was difficult, but I managed to find your palace eventually.”
He grins. “The Stars shine upon you, dear girl, in more ways than just blessing you with luck.” He leans forward in his throne, leering at me. “Your father did not exaggerate your beauty. I trust that Lord Tauren, as beastly as he may be, stayed true to his word about your virtue?” My shoulders tense. “Are you still pure, little one?”
I want to gag, but I hold it in. “Lord Tauren was cruel, but he did not touch me in that way. I am still pure, my lord.” I swear I hear Urma scoff, but I don’t give her the satisfaction of a scowl.
Keeping my gaze on Elheart, I speak softly. “I am very tired, though, my lord. I would be most grateful if I could retire to my bedchambers to rest and have my servants bathe me.”
He nods, gesturing to the taller guard who brought me in. “Escort my bride to the nobles’ wing and put her in the bedchamber we had prepared for her originally.” He then turns to the shorter guard. “Ensure it is vacant for her before she enters.”
The shorter guard stammers, “But, my lord, what about the?—”
“Find a different room for them,” he snaps. “They will be reunited once I deem it necessary.”
I glance between the guard and Elheart. Who is ‘them’? Is it Maeve?
I’m not given the chance to ask. The shorter guard hurries off before I’m ushered out of the throne room and whisked deeper into the palace.
