“Would that work?” The words slipped out before Tamsin could stop them.
“Ah. So he has found that loophole.” Maeve toyed with her wine glass. “Yes, little human. It would not break the tithe-bond, but it would give you the rights of an unseelie fae. You would no longer be our plaything, but a member of my court. Was it doubt alone that was keeping you out of his bed? Will you fling yourself into his arms now?”
Tamsin glanced at Cuan. He’d finished cleaning himself, though there were still deep bruises across his throat and arms. He bowed to the tiny woman who’d brought him the water—though none of the other high sidhe were even acknowledging the existence of the short, gnarled servants who scurried around the dining hall.
He was a good man. And if Maeve believed in this true mate thing too…maybe there was something in it after all.
But then her eyes fell on the rest of the high sidhe court, in all their beauty and cruelty, and her heart shrank within her chest. She couldn’t imagine living here. Not even with Cuan.
Maeve’s low, throaty laugh made her look round. The high sidhe looked as smug as a cat with a mouthful of mouse.
“Ah,” Maeve breathed. Her red markings shimmered with a faint wash of fire. “So it was not doubt alone. He has admitted that mating would bind you to him even more tightly than the tithe-curse binds you to this realm. And you cannot bring yourself to abandon all hope of returning home. What beautiful torment you inflict on your mate, demanding that he risk his life, and all for the possibility of losing you. Such perfect cruelty.” She sipped at her wine. “One might almost think you high sidhe.”
Thatbarb cut deeper than Tamsin liked to admit. She covered the pang of confused guilt by lifting her chin, giving Maeve her best withering glare. “I don’t know why you’re smirking. One way or another, you’re going to lose.”
“I will not,” Maeve said calmly, and with utter certainty. “I never lose. You will be the death of your mate, little human, and I shall relish the taste of your shame and heartbreak. Because I do know humans. You are stubborn beyond all reason, determined to make your own destinies rather than submit to fate. You will not mate my beast. You will cling to the faintest chance of freedom until his dying breath. And do you know what makes that truly marvelous?”
Somehow, Tamsin doubted that Maeve meant that it showed the strength of the human spirit. She said nothing.
Maeve gestured her closer, eyes gleaming. Tamsin hesitated, then—as the guards started forward, hands reaching out—reluctantly leaned in. It took all her self-control not to flinch as Maeve took hold of her chin.
“Your hope is utterly futile,” the high sidhe murmured. “Oh there are ways to break the tithe-curse, make no mistake…but they are all outside your reach. Do you know why you were chosen as a sacrifice, little human?”
Maeve’s red eyes filled Tamsin’s vision. All she could feel was the tight, cold grip of the high sidhe’s fingers.
“You were given to us because you are an aging, solitary woman of no importance whatsoever.” The queen’s whisper crept through Tamsin’s ears and into her blood, spreading through her veins like poison. “You have no one. No lover, no life-partner, no family. You could disappear from the face of the earth, and no one would miss you. No one is coming to save you, little human. No one even cares what happened to you.”
The bitter truth of the high sidhe’s words sank in, cold and numbing. Maeve was right. She was nobody. Nothing. Less than nothing. She was an insignificant worm, especially compared to this beautiful, perfect high sidhe—
Those aren’t my thoughts!
“That’s—that’s not true.” Tamsin clung tight to a thin thread of pure fury, battling the foreign waves of despair beating against her mind. “I, I’m not alone. I have friends—”
“Friends?” Maeve laughed. “Oh, your ridiculous hopes are simply delicious. Other pathetic, powerless women? Do you truly think they will come to your rescue? They do not even know we exist.”
Maeve’s glamour still swamped her emotions, trying to drag her down…but suddenly, Tamsin could barely feel it.
Because Maeve was wrong.