Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
I’ll make one for you . . . if you’ll let me.
Flinching, I drop a blanket of darkness on the memory, smothering it like an errant flame. Was it all a lie? Every touch of his lips, every whispered promise? Was it all a ruse to steal the crown? Was none of it true?
I can’t think about that right now. I won’t.
When I leave the room, Genny is in the hall waiting for me, as promised, but the hall is . . . outside. There are doors on the wall opposite mine, but there’s no ceiling save for the dome of treetops looming high above. Birds chitter and swoop this way and that, and a soft breeze toys with the ends of my hair.
Genny leads me through the brightly lit halls until they open to a set of grand, twisting alabaster stairs with a shining wooden banister. If everywhere I looked in the Golden Palace reminded me of the sparkle and shine of a cloudless day, Misha’s home reminds me of the most beautiful parts of the forest, as if earth and stone and trees all came together to honor him.
The sound of trickling water draws my attention, and I peer over the railing to see a small creek flowing through the corridor below, cutting through a stone floor that looks as old as time and gives the impression that everything else here was built around it.
“What is this place?” I ask.
She smiles but keeps her gaze on the steps as we make our way to the landing. “This is His Majesty’s home, known to most of the realm as Castle Craige, named for the way it was built around and within the mountain itself. Is it not the most beautiful of all the courts’ palaces?”
“I believe it is.” Not that I’ve seen much of the Unseelie palace—I wasn’t exactly offered a tour on my visits with Mordeus. It’s difficult to imagine any beauty like this in a place where such an evil king ruled.
The stream winds through the airy corridors, and we walk alongside it until we reach an open terrace overlooking a lush green valley. The stream cuts under a massive mahogany table and beneath the glass railing, where it cascades over the terrace’s edge.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe without meaning to.
“Thank you,” Misha says, pulling my gaze away from the steep drop. He’s holding a glass of wine and lounging against the base of a massive sequoia that appears to be rooted in the terrace’s stone floor. He straightens and steps toward me. “I wish I could take credit for it, but it was my ancestors, many generations before mine, who thought it fitting to allow the wilds to form our palace.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit. “It’s lovely.”
“As are you, Princess.” He looks me over slowly, his brows inching up his forehead with his perusal as if every bit of me is some new surprise. “Now that you’re clean, I can certainly see the appeal.”
“The appeal?”
His russet eyes are bright when they meet mine again. “As we speak, two of the most powerful males in our realm are fighting over you.” He waves a hand up and down. “Now that you’re cleaned up, I can see why. Perhaps I’ll let them destroy each other and keep you for myself.”
I gape. What a pig. “You will not.”
He arches a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “No?”
“First, I won’t be kept by anyone. Second, you’re a married man, and I’m sure your wife wouldn’t appreciate—”
“My wife wouldn’t bat an eye.” He chuckles softly. “This isn’t the mortal realm. Marriage doesn’t come with the same expectations here. Especially not among the royalty.”
“Right. Those silly peasant mortals expect love and trust from their life partners. That must seem so ridiculous to you faeries who put power and status above all else.”
He cocks his head to the side and studies me. “Did I hit a nerve?”
I swallow hard and reel in my emotions. I’ve shown too much of myself. “No. I don’t care what marriage means to you.”
He scoffs. “Sure you don’t. But you can relax. I’m not interested in anything from you but an alliance. Shall we?” He waves a hand, and a feast appears on the table. Piles of fresh-cut fruit, bowls of steaming potatoes, trays of thinly cut meats drizzled with aromatic sauces.
My mouth waters, and I’m suddenly famished. In the short weeks I’ve been in Faerie, I’ve become accustomed to regular, hearty meals, but I’ve only eaten once since leaving the palace. My stomach feels as if it might eat itself if I don’t feed it soon.
I’ve trusted Misha this far. I might as well continue, so I take a seat and wait as he sits opposite me. We quietly fill our plates, and I’m careful to let him take several bites before I begin. A small amount of caution can’t hurt.