12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
T he day I’ve been dreading has finally arrived.
Come evening, my ladies’ maids swarm my bedchamber, with Tiffy leading the charge. Cradling a gown in her arms, she approaches and holds it out for me to see.
“His Highness had it made for this evening,” Tiffy tells me, beaming. “Isn’t it lovely, Miss?”
My mouth parts while my eyes drink in the fabric. It’s a brilliant royal blue that seems to shimmer in the light. An intricate twist of swirling vines and roses decorate the skirt and bodice. I reach out to touch it, expecting some kind of lace detailing. But I find it’s not lace—it’s spun gold metal woven into the gown. The skirt is full, with a layer of taffeta to thank for its shape, and the sleeves reach just past my elbows, hemmed with more gold.
I shudder when I think of how much this dress must cost.
“Viridian…” I murmur. “He commissioned this? For me?”
Tiffy nods. “He did.”
As much as I hate to admit it, the dress is gorgeous. Allora, the Goddess of Peace and Beauty, herself would envy its beauty.
“Come,” Tiffy says once she’s laid the gown on my bed. “Let’s get you ready.”
She leads me to the washroom and into a tub of hot water. Much like they did my first night at High Keep, my ladies maids’ scrub my skin and scalp until I’m free of any dirt or oil. Then Tiffy leads me back into my bedchamber and sits me at my vanity table. She and one other servant braid my hair and twist it around my head in an intricate style. When they finish, I barely recognize myself in the mirror.
Who is this girl I see before me?
She looks like a lady. If it weren’t for my rounded ears, I would look fae.
I look away, curling my fingers.
I am not a lady. Am I?
Rising to my feet, I turn and hold out my arms. The servants tighten my corset, and then guide me while I step into my gown .
“You are a vision,” Tiffy says, admiring her handiwork. “You will be the talk of the evening—I just know it!”
I nod and force a smile.
I feel as though there’s an egg lodged in my throat. Perhaps I should tell them I’m feeling ill and can’t go.
The knock at my chamber door tells me it’s too late for that.
“Ah,” Tiffy exclaims. “That’ll be your escort, Miss.”
My heart catches in my throat.
But when the door opens, it’s not Viridian standing outside.
It’s Lymseia.
Disappointment sinks in my stomach.
“Hello, Miss Thurdred.” She bows her head. “I’ll be your escort for tonight.”
“Thank you,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry, like I’ve swallowed sand.
Lymseia holds out her arm and I take it.
We walk through the halls and descend the main staircase. Sweat gathers on my palms. I fight the urge to wipe them on my gown.
My nerves threaten to overtake me, but Nefine’s teaching runs through my mind.
“Appearances are key to one’s reputation.”
I force myself to breathe.
I hone my energy, channeling it into what I hope is the picture of grace.
“Your reputation is your sharpest sword.”
Then I will come armed.
We stop before the double doors.
Lymseia looks at me, her expression kind. “Are you ready?”
I take a deep breath. Once I go through these doors, there’s no going back.
“I’m ready.”
Lymseia nods and gestures to the guards standing before us. They open the doors.
Just inside the ballroom stands a man in fine clothes. His rounded ears tell me he’s human.
Lymseia leaves my side and whispers to him. She steps back, falling in place next to me.
The steward clears his throat. “Miss Cryssa Thurdred, promised bride to His Highness the Crown Prince.”
The ballroom falls silent. Everyone’s looking at me.
My heart thrums in my chest, beating against my ribcage. The muscles in my throat constrict, making it harder to breathe.
At some point, Lymseia breaks from me and stands next to the steward. I descend the stairs into the ballroom. The crowd parts for me, like I’m someone important.
To them, I am someone important.
I’m the Crown Prince’s betrothed.
But once I escape, I’ll go back to being Cryssa, the miner’s daughter. I won’t be someone important. And I won’t be married to an arrogant fae male.
Viridian waits for me in the center of the ballroom with his hands clasped behind his back. Alone. The guests have distanced themselves from him, forming a large circle. Behind him, at the far end of the room, sits the High King on his bronze throne. Watching closely, like an instructor evaluating a pupil.
I force myself to move forward. When I approach, he holds out a hand for me.
Ever the gentleman , I think bitterly. I take it, and he pulls me closer until I’m nearly pressed to his chest. I stiffen, and he clenches his jaw.
Viridian’s stare heats my cheeks. “You look stunning tonight.”
I scowl, wishing his approval didn’t please me. Wishing I wasn’t here, dancing with him, while wearing the dress he commissioned for me. But we dance, and I follow his lead, relying on Nefine’s lessons. I try to pull back, to put more distance between us, but Viridian’s hand is firm on my back. Holding me in place.
“Would you do me the honor of at least pretending to enjoy my company?” he asks, looking past me.
Trying not to call attention to myself, I follow his line of sight. People peer at us over their goblets, glancing our way between sips.
“Why should I?” I hiss. He’s given me no reason to.
“Stealing you from your family, tucking you away in the castle all this time…” Viridian’s voice softens. For the first time since I’ve arrived, he looks at me. As if he’s staring into my soul, his amber gaze smoldering with an intensity I haven’t seen before. “I know that in your eyes, I am the villain.”
He pauses and swallows. Then he spins me around, his hand on my waist securing me to him after my twirl.
Some of the guests watch us through shrouded eyes, others with curiosity. Some even look my way with envy written all over their faces.
Viridian’s voice brings my focus back to him. “But this marriage is so much more than you know. Like you, I didn’t want this. But you and I have no choice. There are forces greater than either of us that are beyond my control.”
“The gods?” I ask, my voice harsh. “I haven’t forgotten Theelia’s blessing.” How could I, when it ruined my life?
Viridian stays silent, leveling his expression. Maintaining decorum, as a crown prince should. To any onlookers, we’re simply a couple dancing.
Those in the crowd watching us finally look away, distracted by waitstaff serving small delicacies and more wine.
I start, “Your Highness—”
“Viridian,” he interjects, eyes locking with mine. “Please. Call me Viridian.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “Viridian. If I am to be your bride, then you should be honest with me. Why am I here?”
“To marry me,” he says, evading my question while we dance .
“That’s not what I asked, and you know it.”
“You’re right,” he concedes, turning his face from mine again.
“Then tell me.”
He twirls me again, the music humming in my ears much louder than it should be.
“ Viridian .”
“Has anyone told you how stubborn you are?”
Simmering, I glower at him.
“You forget, Little Fawn, that this is all a game.” With Virdian’s hand on my waist, we glide across the floor. “We must play our cards right. I will answer your questions. All in due time.”
He flashes me a polite smile, but it does little to hide the tension that still gathers in his jaw. Though it’s not anger—that much I can tell.
It’s much closer to fear or worry.
Concern pangs in my chest. For a moment, I forget my hatred for the male before me.
Instead, I almost want to wrap my arms around him. To hold him close.
He takes an abrupt step back. I do the same, banishing the thought from my mind.
What’s wrong with me?
A momentary lapse of judgment is all. And it won’t happen again.
I’ll make sure of it.
Viridian bows to me, and then I curtsy before him. I know what Nefine would say if she were here. I should stay at Viridian’s side tonight.
That is what people will expect of me.
But I don’t care.
I wait for him to leave the dance floor, and when he does, I march into the sea of guests.
Waitstaff circulate with goblets of wine. As one passes me, I grab a goblet and immediately bring it to my lips.
Maybe the drink will wash this night from my memory. All I know is that I need to get away from Viridian.
I take several, greedy gulps, draining my goblet. Placing the empty goblet onto the tray carried by another servant, I take a deep breath.
I only make it a few steps closer to the exit before the dark liquid muddles my thoughts.
That’s strange. Normally, wine doesn’t hit me this quickly.
My head feels heavy, and I feel myself following in the direction it leads, swaying like I’m standing on a ship. A thick fog takes hold of my mind, and I find myself acting on pure instinct—however little of it remains.
I stumble my way through the throng of partygoers and into the hallway just outside the ballroom. My legs wobble, and the ceiling seems to elevate.
People I don’t recognize—servants, I think—flock to me.
“Miss! Are you alright? ”
I must really look unwell—two faces loom before mine, their mouths tight with concern. Though, they look awfully similar. Brothers, perhaps?
“Miss, can you hear me? Miss?”
Two hands wave in front of my face. Or perhaps it’s the same hand? I can’t tell.
“What is the meaning of this?”
The servants merge when he drops into a bow. “Your Highness.”
Viridian’s—at least I think it’s his—angry voice sounds dulled, even though he’s not far from me. “I told you that she wasn’t to be served the wine, did I not?”
The servant gushes his apologies, though I can’t make out the words. Perhaps I’m not paying attention. I’m not paying attention, am I? Or is it the wine?
“Viridian, please,” I swat at him. “I’m a grown woman. I can have wine if I so choose.”
He frowns. “Not this wine, Little Fawn.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. All wine is good wine.”
“Not this one,” Viridian repeats, firmer this time. “Not for you.”
I only scowl at him. “You’re no fun.”
“It’s fae wine,” Viridian grumbles. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. “Gods above. How much did you drink?”
“A whole goblet.” I giggle like a child who knows she’s done wrong.
He curses under his breath .
“Come now.” Viridian scoops me up and cradles me to his chest. “Let’s bring you upstairs, shall we?”
“You’re not my keeper,” I slur. “I can take care of myself.”
“And you’re not yourself. You need to come upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” I whine. “But I’m not tired.”
“You will be in a moment.”
“I won’t,” I protest.
He ignores me and starts down the hall.
My skin is hot, little fires spreading everywhere his fingers touch. Even through my thick gown. The fabric is too hot against my skin, and more than anything, I want it off. And I know I shouldn’t, but all I can think about are his hands on my body.
All the naughty places I would rather have them instead.
I must have said that out loud, because Viridian’s pupils dilate.
“The wine has gotten to your head,” he says, his voice rough and gravelly.
Now it’s my turn to frown. “You don’t want me?”
“Oh, believe me, Little Fawn,” he growls, voice rumbling in his chest. “I want you. Desperately. But when I have you for the first time, it’ll be when you accept me as your mate.”
“Mate?” I ask. Perhaps the wine really is getting to my head.
“Yes.” Possessiveness laces his words. “Mate.”
Before I know it, we reach the top of the main staircase, and round the corner to my bedchamber .
Shifting my weight slightly, Viridian opens my chamber door and brings me inside. He kicks the door shut behind him and moves farther into the room. Lowering me onto my bed, his hand slips up my back to set me down gently.
“Stay there,” he commands, turning to the wardrobe.
My limbs seem to sink into the mattress, heavy like gohlrunn . I do as he says.
Viridian pulls something from the wardrobe and then faces me.
Slowly, he takes my hands and pulls me up into a sitting position. He kneels on the bed behind me and undoes my corset, pulling it off. Then, he helps me out of my sleeves, and pulls the gown off, past my feet.
I know I should feel something. Embarrassment, desire, something . Instead, my mind is foggy, wiped clear of any coherent thought.
But maybe he’s right. Maybe I am tired.
Though I’ll never admit it.
Viridian pulls my nightgown over my head, adjusting it until my arms are through the sleeves and the skirt covers my body.
“Lie down,” he says, grabbing the edge of my blankets.
I fall back into the pillows. My eyelids droop, weighed down by drowsiness.
“I’m only doing this for me, not you,” I say. My voice is dulled by the fatigue pulling at the edges of my vision.
Viridian rolls his eyes with a soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t dare assume otherwise.”
He tugs the blankets over me and tucks them under my chin. My eyes close. I feel him linger, his face inches from mine.
I think he might kiss me.
I think I want him to.
But he doesn’t. His fingers graze my cheek, and he brushes my hair out of my face. Then he pulls away, the closeness of him replaced by a cool breeze.
The mattress groans when he stands. I just barely hear my chamber door open and close before sleep overtakes me.