Brighid insisted we needed a carriage—riding into her wedding ragged and on horseback would give a poor first impression.
Reese ran a hand through his hair. “We really don’t need a discount.”
“Sh,” I hissed. “Don’t take Liam’s hobby away from him.”
He chuckled. “Bláth likes to haggle. Give him some backup.”
“Well,” Bláth said sweetly. “If you insist.” Folding her hands behind her back, she pranced to their side and joined the argument.
Turning away, I looked over the elk penned in the stables and caught Brighid’s eye. She glared at me, searchingly. She’d shot me this look more times than I could count, over the past few days.
In the heart of the night, I’d whispered to her Vaf’s riddle—and price.
She had carefully avoided entering a deal with the fae lord. But what could be worse than marrying your lifelong abuser?
Liam grinned, shook the stable master’s hand, and returned to my side triumphantly. “Told you I could get a cheaper one.”
“Yes, you’re very impressive, little brother.” I shook my head. Liam smiled, shifting to favor his left side.
Where a jagged scar tore down his chest.
He stepped closer and discreetly took my hand, gently squeezing. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever done. Surprised, I looked up at him, but he turned away.
Reese released a labored sigh and grabbed my bag before I could. “I’ll load the carriage.” He glanced back. “Your highness.”
“Please do.” Brighid tossed him her bag.
He caught it and rolled his eyes. Restless pricks ran through my limbs, and my heart thundered in my chest. Pacing the road, I started braiding my hair—if only to give my fingers something to do. I tied off the braid as the stable master finished hooking up the elks, with our horses linked to the back of the wagon.
Jogging over, I reached for the wagon door, but Reese darted to intercept me. Pulling the wagon door open, he offered me his hand with a coy smile and bow.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Of course, my lady.” His mouth twitched, hiding a laugh.
I accepted his hand and stepped up into the carriage. Brighid lifted her skirts and extended her hand, but Reese turned his back to her and climbed in after me.
“Little ginger rat,” Brighid murmured, climbing the steps herself.
A smile curled my lips, but I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Doubling over, I steadied my breathing.
Everything was wrong. Where we were going—why we were going. And the secrets I kept buried.
Reese sat beside me, which was awful and made everything worse.
Liam and Bláth seated themselves opposite us; the door closed, and with the crack of a whip, we were off.
To Fort Rainier in northern Aenir, where the royal wedding would be held.
I stared out the window, admiring the rolling hills and sky-reaching mountains, trying to ignore the pleasant warmth of the man beside me.
“We need to talk,” Reese said, voice low and serious. “About this wedding, Brighid.”
“What do you mean?” Brighid flicked one leg over the other.
“Everything—everything—could go wrong, and we need to be prepared." He made a sound of disgust. “Just seeing Sorley’s face will make me want to kill him.”
“Please don’t,” Brighid said, tucking herself into the corner. “If the Lecovair execute you, they’ll most certainly kill poor Mare, too."
