“Do humans often come to the Enchanted Vale?” I ask tentatively. When he doesn’t answer, I continue, “That’s why my father came here. He’s looking for my mother. He’s convinced faeries stole her.”
There’s a deep rumbling sigh. “It’s against our laws to bring humans from your world.”
“But could it have happened? Have other humans ever made it through?”
“It’s possible, but rare. There are a few humans who have wandered in and made a life in one of the four realms.”
“Mother wouldn’t have left us,” I say, more to myself than him. “My father said their love was brighter than every star in the sky.”
Ezryn looks out the window. “You’ve seen for yourself. There are many dangers here.”
Is he suggesting she wandered into the Vale and died? Killed by one of those goblins or something? Fear and anger war inside my chest. “Why are you trapping me here?” I ask. “I don’t have anything you want. My father didn’t mean to steal from Keldarion. Please, will you let me go?”
“You traded your place for his.” Prince Ezryn stands, and his shadow overtakes me again. “You are our prisoner, and you have disobeyed the rules by leaving your room last night. Do not attempt to escape again or you will be punished.”
He turns and walks to the doorway. Without turning his back, he says in a low rumble, “You shall meet with the princes in the dining hall.”
Rage ripples through me. “You keep me prisoner and nearly kill me last night, and you want me to meet with you? Not a chance. I don’t want to see any of your faces—”
“You will meet with us. It is not a request.” With a snap of his cape, he turns and storms toward the door. “Astrid,” he growls, and the white-haired girl creeps in, having clearly listened to everything, “make her somewhat presentable. If you can.”
20
Rosalina
Imustbeabsolutelymad to attend lunch with these fae princes. One imprisoned me, one threatened me, one tried to eatme, and one, I suspect, wanted to do very indecent things to me. And all of them transform into fucking demon wolves.
It’s not like I have a choice. I inhale a shaky breath through my nose and smooth down my skirts. Yes,skirts. Astrid has dressed me in a full-on gown. According to her, it’s adaygown, but to me, anything with multiple layers is fancy. I mean, this thing has a freaking petticoat.
Itispretty, though. It’s a robin-egg blue with long draping sleeves embroidered with tiny snowflakes and a dark navy corset. The skirt hangs above my ankles, obviously made for a shorter woman. It doesn’t bother me. At my height, I’m used to it.
Astrid assured me that the castle’s seamstress would make clothes to fit me. What does a prisoner need a seamstress for? I’m going to have to hold my own in this meeting and demand answers about what is really going on.
“This way, Lady Rosalina.” Astrid opens a double wood door and leads me through.
The dining room looks like something out of a fairytale. Lush velvet drapes frame the windows, and a banquet table of rosewood sits in the middle. The walls are painted a deep crimson hue, with ornate carvings of roses along the top of the archways. This room, like the rest of the castle, isn’t free of the resident plant life. Dark thorns twine around every post and window frame, their spines catching the light.
Three fae princes are seated at the table, and all turn to me as I stumble in. One of them stands up, his chair screeching back. “Er, please take a seat.”
It’s the man from the dungeon. He looks a lot different now. He wears a light-yellow tunic with a golden belt in the shape of leaves and tight brown breeches tucked into shiny black boots. A golden swirling cuff decorates one of his ears, and his fluffy brown hair falls in his face as he inclines his head to me.
I swallow and study the table for a moment as I nervously try to figure out where to sit. There’s a chair at either end of the table and three on each side. Sitting beside the man is Dayton from the hot springs; he’s wearing a similar tunic in beige, but it’s so far unlaced, I can see his belly button.
Across from them is Ezryn. My face reddens thinking of how he’d thrown me around my bed this morning. I wonder if I look presentable enough for him… Not that I have any idea what that living statue is thinking.
Seems like Keldarion isn’t required for this meeting.
“Choose a seat,” Astrid whispers. “There’s an empty spot beside Prince Farron.”
Farron. That’s his name. Well, figuring he tried to eat me last night, I’m going to keep my distance.
I could sit next to Ezryn. His gauntleted hands are two mighty fists on the table. He may have healed my leg earlier, but I still haven’t forgotten our first meeting. And I’m not putting my throat anywhere near him again. No thank you. Not today.
I would have told him to squeeze tighter,Marigold’s cheeky words enter my mind. The damned minx had nearly gushed herself when I told her about Ezryn healing my leg.
An image flashes through my mind as I picture his hand around my throat as he tosses me onto the table with the same strength he used to toss me on the bed, then his gentle hands unlacing the bodice of my corset and—
Okay, what the actual fuck. Marigold is getting to me because I absolutely donotfind masked fae princes sexy in any way.