“No, he has so much experience in this area. Certainly, we should listen to his expertise.” It seemed impossible that Fyn could make any woman swoon. His words pivoted quickly from humor to insult.
“Prince Soren writes that he wishes to decide only after you’ve met,” Lioran said.
How reassuring.
I too wished to see what he might at least look like first. As far as I knew, he could be absolutely awful.
“Is this a negotiation between your kingdom and Estlen or mine and Estlen?” They still had yet to truly answer it.
“The decision will remain with you both.” Lioran handed a piece of folded parchment to me.
The midnight wax seal was severed unevenly, renderingits design unrecognizable. I reviewed the words that could alter everything—something that I once hoped would be far more romantic.
“And if I find I can’t stand him? Am I welcome to return to Nythrel or will I be sent back to Bailoc?” I was accustomed to being a chess piece that was moved across the board without permission or advanced warning.
My brother, the King of Bailoc, had made sure of it.
Lioran’s eyebrows arched, causing creases to settle in his forehead. There were few things I said lately that didn’t make the lines etch deeper. “If you think there’s a possibility you will hate him, I don’t advise you to accept his invitation,” he said. “Your presence in Estlen would be diplomatic. If the pact is not finalized, we welcome your return.”
I was taught to be diplomatic—to hide every emotion so that no one knew what I was thinking. Perhaps I was rusty.
The influences in the fae realm had me saying whatever was on my mind without a moment of remorse. “I haven’t forgotten how to behave like a princess.” I could easily return to it.
A human prince was seeking a bride—a political bride.
I knew how to be a political bride. I was raised for it.
It would give me status again—it would give me humanity.
Even if love never followed, that could be enough for me. “I promise I will conduct myself appropriately.”
Aelira looked to Lioran as if she expected him to fix me, or lecture me, but he only met her stare. I was convinced the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes only.
“Prince Soren is eagerly awaiting your response,” Lioran said like I hadn’t just read it myself.
Sometimes my greatest ideas were my wildest.
Maybe it would be exactly what I needed. And if it wasn’t,I could at least come back to Nythrel and live amongst the fae again—there was little to lose. “I accept his invitation.”
“You’re allowed to take time and consider it.” Aelira’s voice grew softer.
My sister had the luxury of choice. I hadn’t been afforded much of it.
I wouldn’t wait for a choice I liked less to be made for me.
“Prince Soren has quite the reputation.” Fyn’s accent suddenly seemed thicker as he spoke.
“Oh, and what is that?” Whatever he was getting at, he could say it. “Certainly, if it’s enough to change my opinion of him, you must utter it to me.” There were very few things that could change my mind—unless they said he beat women. I would have absolutely nothing to do with that.
“He is very bold and outspoken.” Fyn almost seemed like he lacked confidence when he said it.
As far as I knew, he hadn’t met the prince. At least I had heard nothing of it.
“Wonderful. We are one and the same, then.” A bubbling hum rose in my chest. “It sounds like a fantastic opportunity. I’ve heard only wonderful things about Estlen. I wish for you to send my reply.”
Lioran carefully studied me. “We shall send it promptly.”
“Are you certain?” Aelira asked. “This is?—”
