His eyes were dark. His skin was bronze. His lips were full and curving in their wicked smile.
She swallowed hard.
When she did not answer, he turned to the Fomorian standing on her right. He’d brought one of the humans from the ship along with him, along with a strange barn owl. He squirmed beneath the Emperor’s piercing gaze.
“Tell me who this is. Where has she come from?” the Emperor demanded.
“She?” Frowning, one of the humans slid a sidelong glance her way. “Forgive me, Your Excellence, but is this not a boy?”
“A boy.” The Emperor’s full lips curled. “I’m surprised you managed to spot she’s a fae when you cannot even tell she’s female.”
“But..” The human blinked, and then cast his eyes to the ground. “Forgive me, Your Excellence. My human eyes have deceived me.”
Your Excellence. Inwardly, Eislyn rolled her eyes. What a stupid title.
The Emperor’s gaze slid back to her face. His eyes burned right through her. “Where are you from?”
She wet her lips. “Tir Na Nog.”
“Which court?”
“Ice,” she whispered.
“Of course you are. I should have known.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. What did that mean? Why should he have known?
“A pretty ice fae princess, with an owl familiar, who has shaved her pretty ice fae hair. What were you trying to accomplish? Convince us that you’re human?”
Her heart thumped. What the hell did that mean?
“I don’t have an owl familiar,” she said.
He jerked his chin toward the brown owl who was struggling to escape from the Fomorian’s hands. “That owl came to your rescue, and it seems intent on getting to your side even now. You’re telling me it’s not yours?”
Eislyn lifted her chin. “Yes, actually.”
“Either you can lie or you’re ignorant.” His smile vanished. “You’ve left me with no other choice. You’ll stay, here in Aotrom Palace. And you’ll become my bride.”
Eislyn took a step back, heart rattling. “What?”
“You’ll become my bride.” He repeated the words slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child.
“I will not,” she said hotly, twisting against the bonds around her wrists. “I’m someone else’s betrothed!”
“Unfortunately for your lover, you will not be returning to him.” Emperor Lir twisted toward his closest guard. “Bring me a druid. Tell him to bring everything he needs for a wedding ceremony.”
All the blood rushed from Eislyn’s face. Horror twisted in her gut like a knife. “Now? You want to marry menow?”
He shot her a wry smile that matched the devilish shadows in his eyes. “Did you think that I would wait and give you a chance to escape?”
“I won’t marry you!”
“You will,” he countered.
“You need my permission,” she said, tears bubbling up in the corners of her eyes. “I have to agree to this, you know. That’s how the ceremony works.”
“Not for the Emperor of Fomor.”
Her jaw dropped as she conjured up argument after argument against this, but when he turned his back on her, all the fight bled out of her body and onto the stones. She sagged against her captors, a new wail of terror building in her throat. She’d been an idiot for believing that she could do anything to save her world. Vreis had been wrong. Eislyn could never be her own shield.
