The knot in my chest unravels. “And the rest of Alyssium?”
Callum clears his throat. “It’s going to be a brutal winter with how the rebels left it.”
“Why doesn’t the Crown send help?” My voice pitches, and the guard ahead of us glances over his shoulder.
“The Crown is doing everything they can.”
His answer sounds rehearsed, and I wonder if he’s not allowed to tell me what he really thinks when the guards around us can hear our every word. Or maybe he’s not lying, and the state of my home is so bad that even help from the Ley Court won’t be enough.
“Letia is strong, and the village sticks together. She’ll be all right.” His attempt at reassurance does little to relax the stiffness in my shoulders.
I nod once, words catching in my throat. All I can do is hope he’s right. After all, the humans back home are like me, cut from the harshest winters. If anyone can hold on long enough for me to complete the Rite, they can.
“Are you ready?” Callum straightens as we reach the end of a hall.
A set of closed doors is all that stands between me and the beginning of this ritual.
“Am I ready to bind myself to a king who wants nothing from me but my magic? What’s there not to be ready for?”
“Elorie.”
“I know. Watch my tongue and behave.”
“That isn’t what I was going to say. We both know you’re incapable of behaving.” Callum’s eyebrow hitches, and for a split second, I forget I’m mad at him. He’s simply the male I enjoy verbally sparring with.
“I suppose you’re right.”
The doors swing open to a room twice as large as the one the king summoned me to earlier. The ceiling is endless, like it is in my bedroom. There is no end to it when I look up. But while mine is a night sky, this one is a clear day with sunshine and clouds wisping around.
Males and females sweep me over as I walk through. I’m exposed in my dress, but it’s modest compared to others. Each is more stunning than the last. Ruby-red lace. Silver-threaded silk. A rainbow of colors. Many of the Fae have studded jewels in their ears and cuffs on their arms and at their throats.
When we reach the head of the room, King Malachi steps forward, wearing something similar to earlier. But this deep-blue tunic is threaded with shimmering gold, and his cape has an intricate design laced through it. He reaches for my hand, pulling me closer, and smelling like sunshine.
“I almost didn’t believe Callum when he said you were beautiful. Seems he’s proved his word trustworthy after all.” It’s a compliment and an insult rolled into one, but I force a smile, trying to ignore the sour churn of my stomach as the king tightens his hold.
He’s stunning. Blindingly attractive to the point where he’s almost difficult to look at. But something about King Malachi’s presence makes me uneasy.
I stand at his side, and my gaze falls to the orb he wearsaround his neck. This close, I catch the swirls. Like blue dye dripped into a basin of water, swirling to a single point in the center.
“Elorie, I’d like you to meet Greer. She will be handling your training.”
“My training?” My eyebrows pinch.
“Unless you’ve suddenly figured out how to use your magic.” A sharp, feminine voice pulls my attention to my left as a guard circles in front of me.
Her armor is much like Callum’s in that it is silver and intricately carved with the Crown’s symbols. But hers fits tighter to her body, drawing out the slight curves at her chest and hips. At the top is a thin layer of chain-link that swoops over one shoulder, adding a decorative edge. On her ears, she wears pointed, silver-winged earrings.
Her black hair is in tight braids, pulled off her face, and her ebony skin glows nearly as much as the magic stirring in her eyes. A scar cuts through her right eyebrow. It’s the only other scar I’ve seen on a Fae since the prison, and I can’t help wondering how it came to be.
Greer is stunning and terrifying. She stares so intensely that I can’t help but shift on my feet.
“Well, have you?” she asks, snapping me from my thoughts.
“Have I what?”
“Figured out your magic?”
I shake my head.
