Because I wanted that lie so desperately that I let myself overlook the warning signs.
“You left my aunt’s court so precipitously,” Etan says. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”
“I’m surprised you noticed.” I can’t stop the hint of acid from flavoring the words. “You seemed to be cock-deep in a sprite the last I saw of you.”
“Ah. You saw that.” He doesn’t look entirely surprised. “Can you blame me? You’d been playing games with me for months. A male has certain needs, Iskvien, and you were playing coy.”
“I was doing nothing of the sort!”
He scoffs. “What else am I to call it? You would barely kiss me, let alone slip into my bed—”
And to think I was going to gift this bastard my virginity. “I wasn’t sure if I could trust you—instincts that have served me well, in hindsight. I thought you were….”
“What?” Another step closer.
“Wooing me,” I snap. “I thought you were falling in love with me.”
Etan laughs. “Oh, Iskvien. What is love compared to the game?” His gaze sharpens, becomes a little cruel. “Your innocence was amusing then, but there’s only so long before a man grows bored.” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “I think I like this better. Now you know. Now you’re no longer looking at me as if I ought to cast my handkerchief at your feet and beg your favor.”
“No, I’m looking at you as if you’re an utter pig who isn’t fit to kiss the hem of my skirts.”
“Careful now, Princess.” Maybe it’s not Belladonna widening his pupils. Maybe it’s something worse, because the merest hint of my defiance unleashes a feral kind of hunger in his expression. “This spitfire attitude makes the chase interesting again but you will respect me.”
I don’t know what it is about him that makes me uncomfortable in that moment, but I take a half step back when he advances upon me.
I know how to use the dagger sheathed at my hip, and I’m safely within Asturia’s camp, but the makeshift streets are suspiciously empty for this time of day. Canvas flaps in the breeze, but I can’t even sight so much as a hob.
I’m alone.
“I hate you,” I say firmly. “I’m not interested in being chased. I don’t ever want to see you again. Remove yourself from these tents. You’re trespassing.”
He reaches out and tries to brush his finger down my cheek, an ugly smile dawning when I jerk back. “Then it is truly a shame that my aunt and your mother have reached an agreement.”
For a second, I’m not sure if I’ve heard him correctly. “What?”
“There’s to be a marriage to cement the alliance between our countries.” He captures my chin, pinching a little. “You’re mine, you frigid little bitch. I will have you on your knees. I will have you on your back. I will have you locked in a fucking cell if I so choose. Maybe I’ll even fuck you in front of my court—”
“Never!”
I strike his hand away, but the ache of his touch lingers in my skin.
“Go,” he mocks. “Run to your mother. Ask her if it’s true. My queen is signing the contracts today and once they’re signed you belong to me, Iskvien. Now and forever.” His gaze runs down my body. “Maybe you should wait for me tonight. I’ll find your tent and you can beg for my forgiveness.”
Heart pounding in my ears, I whip my dagger free and point it at him. “If you even take a single step within my tent, I’ll cut your heart out of your chest and give it to your queen in a box.”
His eyes light up and he laughs. “I’m glad we’ve had this little chat. This is much more interesting than having you simper at me like some little lovesick swain.”
I can’t breathe.
My mother wouldn’t do this to me.
She wouldn’t.
But I can’t help thinking of her close ties with Maren of Aska. Mother’s been murmuring about an alliance with the Queen of Nightmares for months.
War is on the horizon. She’s already sent her troops marching north to hold the borders against the encroach of Evernight. Their murderous prince has been making aggressions, and the lands of Mistmere have long been in dispute between them.
I stare at Etan as he blows me a kiss and backs away.
“Until tonight,” he says. “Save me a dance at the rites. No. Save them all for me. Once we are married you will never touch another fae again.”
Mother won’t care if I go bursting in there demanding the truth. I’m her daughter, and she’s been hinting that my virginity is worthless to the kingdom if I never plan to gift it.
This is exactly something she would do to me.
I know it as surely as I know that marrying Etan will be a worse nightmare than my current life at court.
My mother has sold me.
To a monster.
“Over my dead body,” I whisper, but there’s no one here to hear it.
“Are you coming?” Andraste calls as she slips within my tent. “Mother’s gone to the queensmoot’s opening ceremony. We’re supposed to—”
My sister’s voice cuts off as she notices I’m not even dressed, my hair hanging in tangled knots over my shoulders. I’ve spent the last two hours pacing, trying to think my way around this.
“Vi.” Andraste’s brows furrow. She looks like a miniature version of my mother. Tall, blonde, blue-eyed. “What are you doing? The first bonfires are being lit at any moment. Mother wants us to be there for it.”
Traditionally, the three Seelie queens light the bonfires that bring in Lammastide. It hearkens back to a time when the fae went to war against the Old Ones and the otherkin who ruled Arcaedia before the fae arrived; night was a time
