“Finished?” The newcomer snorts, then shoots me a glance, his inspection so cursory that I wonder if he has any concept of my identity. “With what? Terrifying the locals?”
“No. With making the princess an offer.”
“The princess?Her?” The delegate’s attention returns to me, and this time, it lingers. “Shadows below,thisis the fourth one? Why hasn’t she cut off her hair, like all the others?”
The goblin responds with a snarl so vicious that every blood cell in my body goes scrambling for cover. “Who cares? Stop looking at her. She isn’t for you.”
The delegate cocks an eyebrow, then picks some lint from hisdoublet and flicks it into the breeze, as if the goblin’s aggression doesn’t concern him. As if he does this every day. “I’ll look at whoever I like. Now come on.Bothof you. You’re late, and I don’t want to spend a moment longer here than necessary. This place is so…sterile. It unsettles me.” He glances around the orderly garden and shudders, then looks expectantly at me.
As ifIhave any say in what happens next.
“What did I just tell you?” The goblin’s clawed hand strays toward his belt. A sheathed dagger hangs there, a wicked-looking thing. “Stop. Looking at her. Or I’ll carve those pretty eyes right out of your face.”
I recoil. That seems like…overkill.
But the delegate remains unfazed. He surveys the goblin’s weapon, chewing on his cheek for a moment before pivoting away. “Fine. I’m not looking at her anymore. Sonowwill you come?”
“In a minute.” The goblin releases his weapon, his gaze cutting back to mine. “Last chance, then, Princess. Will you come with me now? Or take your chances with the Claiming?”
I open my mouth, prepared to answer the easiest question anyone has ever asked of me. But something about the goblin’s expression makes the words stall in my throat.
I stare upward, caught in his thrall. A dozen details edge into my awareness—the slant of his lips, the slope of his nose, the way his eyes plead with mine as if begging for my agreement. As if he’d do anything to steal me away.
Ishanna help me, he’s somehow…beautiful in his desperation. Horribly, painfully so. At the realization, a thrill cuts across my nerves, a hum rising to fill my blood. A sense of recognition, almost, like a song I once heard and only just now remembered.
Iknowthis monster, I swear it. Which made sense earlier, when I thought I caught traces of Amriel in his face, but if that’s not the case, what’s this familiarity tugging at my insides?
“Please.” His gaze dips to my mouth. “Just let me have you.”
Have me.Haveme? The words have the same effect as a bucket of ice water upended over my head. My glare goes cold, refusal rollingoff me in chilly waves.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I won’t belong to him or to any other man. Only to my goddess.
The goblin’s jaw tightens. A cloud passes behind his eyes, dimming their glow. “Oh, but you will. It’s just that this way, you’ll regret that it’s not with me.”
I hesitate, but his warning amounts to nothing more than a scare tactic. He can’t possibly know what Amriel will do. “The only thing I’ll regret is standing here for so long, listening to you talk.”
A guffaw erupts to my left. I glance over to find the delegate studying me with interest now, as if heappreciatesme challenging his friend. Or his…enemy. Or whatever these two are to each other.
“Come on.” He inclines his head in the direction of the throne room. “Sunset was fifteen minutes ago, and I’dreallylike to make it home tonight.” He turns and glides away.
Blowing out a breath, I move to follow, but the goblin yanks me back with a growl. “Don’t do that. Don’t turn your back on me, not even for a second.”
My lungs suck at air that feels too thin to sustain a normal breath. “Or what?”
“Youknowwhat.”
Silence coils between us. His clawed hand tightens, his grip so vast it swallows my upper arm.
Ishanna’s blood, I want to run from him so badly—the soles of my feet ache with the need. But I won’t. No, I’ll follow this goblin into the Claiming and prove Evelyn’s visions wrong. Tomorrow, I’ll pledge myself to the temple, and my life will be decided. Cast in stone.
“If I let you go,” the goblin says, “will you be good?”
I scoff. “For a fae? Never. But why don’t you go ahead? Go first, if that’s what you want.” Shaking off his grip, I sweep out an arm to indicate the way.
The goblin studies me for long moments, then spins on his heel and stalks away. And goddess help me, he moves like something not of this world. Like he expects the shadows to part before him, and for a moment, I swear they actually do.
My imagination, clearly. With a shake of my head, I square my shoulders and trail after him.
