Magic shimmered in the ballroom, and a portal opened. My grandmother stepped out, followed by Tristan’s father Kildaren and his grandmother Rhiannon, the Dowager Duchess of the Night Court.
Everyone stilled. The Queen of Elfi never left her kingdom, and she had certainly never traveled to Illiador before. Not even for her daughter’s wedding.
Queen Elayna Firedrake got up from her throne. “Greetings, Mother.”
The fae queen’s golden eyes flashed as she regarded her daughter. “I almost didn’t believe it when Penelope told me,” she murmured. “I had to come and see for myself.” And for the first time in over a hundred years, the queen of the fae let a single tear fall from her eye. It vanished as soon as it appeared, of course, but I had seen it. She held out her hands. “Come, my daughter. Let me look at you.”
My mother glided down the stairs gracefully and clasped her mother’s hands in hers. They regarded each other silently, and then my grandmother turned to me.
“You have done well, Aurora,” said the queen of the fae. “You have achieved the impossible, and for this, you deserve to be happy. I may have made a mistake with your mother. But I won’t make the same mistake with you.”
I smiled at my grandmother. “So you don’t intend to force me to marry Tristan?”
My grandmother shook her head. “No. I don’t.” She clasped her hands together. “But it seems it’s not in my hands anymore.”
My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Kildaren stepped forward, a cruel smile on his lips. “What she is trying to tell you, dear daughter-in-law-to-be, is your betrothal to my son was magically binding. It cannot be dissolved unless it is proved that the betrothal was done without your consent.” He smiled at me, his white teeth flashing in an unkind grin. “And you did agree to it at the time, did you not, Dawnstar? Or should I call you Dragon Queen now?”
I ignored his jibe about my latest title. “Yes, I did agree, but . . .”
Kildaren held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter why you said yes, the fact remains that you did.” He turned to my father. “King Azaren, I’m sure you are aware of the protocol for these things.”
My father, who had been watching quietly, got up from his gilded throne and walked down the short set of white marble stairs to stand beside my mother.
He looked at me sternly. “Aurora, did you agree to this?”
I nodded. “I was tricked, and Tristan is bound by an oath, so he had to say yes.” I had to be concise before someone interrupted me again. I couldn’t believe my family was really going to force me to marry Tristan on a technicality when neither of us wanted it.
My father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter why you said yes. The grand duke is right. If you willingly agreed to the betrothal, you cannot break it without a very good reason.”
“I have a very good reason,” I said, throwing my arms in the air. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Tristan and I don’t love each other. I am and always have been in love with Rafe. Everyone knows that. Even Tristan.”
Rhiannon stepped forward to stand beside her son, Kildaren. I saw her eyeing Tristan and Ashara in her peripheral vision. I could tell she was not happy about his association with a witch. “Love is not enough. Why don’t you young ones ever listen?”
Kildaren sneered at me. I knew all he wanted from me was to breed a more powerful line of magic into the Night Court bloodline, giving him more powerful heirs.
“Let me get this straight,” said my father, rubbing his short beard. “Prince Tristan doesn’t want to marry you either?” He looked at Tristan, who came to stand beside me.
“My father may wish for me to marry Aurora,” said Tristan, “but I do not.” He narrowed his eyes at my grandmother and his. “Izadora’s oath keeps me from following my true feelings.” His eyes strayed to Ashara, who was standing behind my parents, tall and proud, a powerful warrior in her own right.
Then my grandmother did the most unexpected thing. “I release you from your oath, Tristan. You have more than paid your dues.” I could feel the power pass between them, severing the magical binding.
Tristan’s eyes widened. None of us had expected her to break their bond.
I smiled and so did Tristan as he bowed to his queen, gratitude visible in his midnight-blue eyes.
Kildaren’s dark eyes swirled with silver sparks as he regarded his son. Sinister shadows seemed to twist around him. “It doesn’t matter if his oath has been fulfilled.” He eyed my father. “They both agreed to it, and you cannot break a magical contract, mage,” he spat. “Do you really want to make an enemy of the fae, King Azaren?”
I stepped in front of my parents, my voice deceptively calm as my magic started to roil up inside me. “Are you threatening my parents, Kildaren?” My hands started to glow with ancient magic, and a shadow passed across the room. The castle rumbled as Abraxas settled himself on the highest tower and roared.
For the first time, I saw a spark of fear in Kildaren’s eyes as he took a step back. “You cannot break a betrothal without a good enough reason,” he repeated.
My father gave me a wry smile. His voice was stern, but there was a twinkle in his emerald-green eyes, so similar to my own. “Aurora, please tell your dragon to be careful. This is a very old castle, after all.”
I smirked, nodding as I crossed my arms in front of me.
Rhiannon stepped in. “My son, Kildaren, is right. You agreed to it. Now it must be upheld.”
My mother clasped her husband’s hand, her beautiful blue eyes wide
