“Isn’t that better than being dead?” He arched a brow. “You asked what happens to other fae who come here despite our treaty. They do not survive, Princess Eislyn Darragh.”
He turned to go, but she reached out a hand to stop him. Her fingers landed on his bronze arm, and he stiffened beneath her touch. “Why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said without turning back to face her. “There is too much you don’t understand about the world. And I don’t plan to be the one to explain it.”
He stepped forward, out of her reach. Her fingers slipped down into the nothingness of air, the whisper of his presence the only thing left as he vanished down the corridor.
Frowning, Eislyn turned and glared at the invisible wall. So, she would not be escaping then. At least not today. Maybe one day. Maybe once the Emperor was dead.
Or, she thought, perhaps she could find another way.
There was only one place she could go. With a nod, Eislyn Darragh aimed her feet toward the library.
* * *
She strode down the wrong corridor at least a half a dozen times before a Fomorian appeared out of thin air to guide her in the right direction. He looked much like the others. Tall, bronze, as tough as steel. His wings were nowhere in sight. She wanted to ask him how they hid them in their skin, but she didn’t want to admit her curiosity.
“Here you are,” Dearg said in a bored tone of voice, opening the library door for her. “The middle shelf is where we keep the fiction. You may stay in here as long as you’d like.”
Eislyn’s eyes widened as she stepped inside. This library was even more expansive than the ones she’d visited in the Air Court, and she’d thought none could top those. Every surface gleamed gold. The ceiling, the floors, even the shelves themselves. They stretched all along the curving walls, reaching up toward an arched ceiling painted with swirling art. Two archways led to further rooms with even more doors beyond. She could get lost in this place.
“What about the non-fiction?” she asked, breathing in the comforting scent of worn pages and leather covers. “Your history books?”
He frowned. “I’m not certain those would be of any interest to you.”
“Why? Because I’m some dumb fae female?”
“Precisely.” He shot her a wicked smile. “I’m glad you understand.”
He turned to go, but she called out after him. “You aren’t going to stand guard and keep watch over me?”
His lips twitched. “And why would I do that?”
“Look, I may be your Emperor’s weird wife, but I know I’m a prisoner.” She lifted a book from the nearest shelf and peeled open the cover. The ancient pages fanned before her, inviting her to read their every word.
“Aharmlessprisoner,” he said. “You can’t leave the palace, no matter how hard you try. Your magic is worthless against us. There is nothing you can do to pose a threat. I don’t need to stand guard over you.”
“If I pose no threat,” she shot back, “then why did the Emperor go to so much trouble to stop me from leaving?”
“Marrying you is scarcely going to ‘so much trouble’,” he whipped back. “He said a few words and gave you an ugly gown. It took ten minutes of his time.”
Eislyn snapped the book shut and glared up at him. “You can go now. I’ve found the library. Your assistance is no longer needed.”
His smile widened. “Is the little fae giving me a command? Does she think she’s mighty and important now, just because the Emperor made her his wife? You fae and your silly little ideals. You’ll never survive this place if you don’t see exactly what you are to every single one of us: nothing but the dirt beneath our boots.”
Her hands fisted by her sides, and the electric magic in her veins sparked back to life.
He chuckled. “Careful there, little fae. Your magic doesn’t work on me. Even if it did, you wouldn’t want to try. The Emperor might have married you, but he won’t let you run around attacking his closest friends. Shoot your ice at me if you like. But there will be repercussions.”
The ice died on her fingers in an instant. Eislyn didn’t entirely believe the Fomorian. Not that she trusted the Emperor to keep her safe, but because she knew there must besomereason he’d kept her alive in the first place. He needed her for something. She was certain of it.
That didn’t mean she wanted to test her little theory.
“You know,” the Fomorian drawled with a wicked grin, edging closer to her. “I couldn’t help but notice our Emperor never took you to bed. It would appear you are as fresh as your snowy home.”
A chill swept down Eislyn’s spine. “That’s none of your business.”
“It isn’t?” He grinned, stepping closer. “One might think he isn’t interested in having you. Which means any of the rest of us are free to have you for ourselves.”
