She would never evenseeanother shield again.
It was all gone. Forever.
An hour stretched by. And then another. Eislyn was forced to wait inside the throne room with her captors and the strange owl while the Emperor was off doing who knew what. Something to do with the bloody wedding, apparently. She conjured up image after image of her escape, but not a single one of them made sense. She could try fighting them, but she had no sword. She could use her magic against them, but they seemed immune. She could run, but not fast enough. They were far more powerful. They were larger. They could break her body in half if they wanted.
Finally, the Emperor returned. He’d changed into a pair of white silk trousers that were barely cinched around his waist. He wore nothing on top, only his crown. His bronze chest glowed like the sunset.
He handed her a white, lacy gown. “Change into this.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Unfortunately for you, I care little about what you want.” He pointed at the gown. “Change.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“You will.”
“You can’t make me.”
He sighed and turned to the Fomorian who held her tightly in his grip. “Break one of her fingers. And then keep breaking them until she agrees to change into the gown.”
Fear bubbled up in her throat. “You can’t do that. I thought you wanted me to be your bride.”
“My bride doesn’t need fingers,” he drawled with such vicious ease that her soul shook in her chest. She truly was nothing but an ant to him, or worse. Perhaps he even thought of her as dirt.
The Fomorian guard grinned and lifted her hand to his lips. He flashed his teeth, and for a moment, Eislyn feared he might bite her finger clean off.
“No, wait,” she hissed, cheeks filling with color. She hated this. All of it. But she especially hated that she was so weak, that she could not stand the thought of even the tiniest bit of pain. “I’ll wear the stupid gown. But I’m not changing in front of you.” She gritted her teeth and glanced at the Emperor. “In front ofeitherof you.”
Emperor Lir shrugged and crossed his arms over his chiseled chest. “You don’t need to get naked. Just put it over your tattered clothes.”
It was such a strange request that Eislyn almost laughed. And then she remembered where she was and why she had to put the stupid gown on in the first place. Still embarrassed, she shrugged the gown over her head and pulled it down over the baggy tunic and trousers she’d worn to trick the world into thinking she was a boy. What a stupid mistake that had been.
“Good.” The Emperor turned and waved the druid forward. Donned in a dull grey robe, he looked nothing like a Fomorian and everything like the fae back home. He was even shorter than the others, and his complexion was far paler than theirs as well. Could he be fae? If so, why was he allowed here and no one else?
And why the hell did the Emperor want to marry her in the first place?
“Quickly,” the Emperor said. “Let’s get this over with. I have more important business to attend to, and this has taken up far too much of my time already.”
Eislyn scowled at him.
The druid nodded and led them to the foot of the dais where Emperor Lir stood opposite of her. He towered over her like one of the looming Fomorian statues from beyond the sea. Eislyn swallowed nervously and tried to focus on anything but his gleaming muscular chest, the way his trousers clung to his skin like a glove.
She cast a glance at the distant door, her skin itching to jump off and run. How far would she make it before she was stopped? Could she even get out of the hall? Did she have a chance?
“You aren’t fast enough,” the Emperor said, cutting through her thoughts. “Though you’re welcome to try it if you’d like. It could be a fun little game. I’m the hunter. You’re the prey.”
Eislyn blinked, swallowing hard. So much for that idea.
“Princess Eislyn, please hold out your hand,” the druid intoned. She ground her teeth together and refused to do a damn thing. She didn’t want to touch the beast, let alone marry him.
Emperor Lir grabbed her hand roughly and held it tightly in his fist. “Stop fighting this, fae.”
“Why wouldn’t I fight it?” she hissed around the lump in her throat. “I don’t want this.”
“Fae who trespass do not get what they want.”
“Now,” the druid cut in quickly, his voice rising, almost in fear. “Repeat these vows after me.”
