Chapter 57
Danartha’s scrutinizing gaze on me caught me in a conundrum.
The ball gown Thain had commissioned for me was tailored to fae fashion, of course, and the dress required to be worn without a chemise, which meant I had to bare most of myself in front of the horrible female. So, I could either choose to show her my almost naked front or my scarred back.
Maybe I shouldn’t be that conscious of my appearance, but there was too much bothering me about myself. I still hadn’t regained all the weight I’d lost in Perran Feroy’s dungeon—much to Dion’s dismay, who always fed me when he noticed again how thin I’d become.
“Change, Eachtrannach. Your intention to spare me from enduring your pitiful shape is considerate, but unwanted. Where are you going? No, you’ll stay. We have to chat, as I said.”
Gritting my teeth, I narrowed my eyes at her as she stopped me from changing in the bathroom.
This was the kind of female Dion had liked?
No, that couldn’t be, could it?
However, if she wanted a show, she would get one.
Without taking my eyes off the despicable fae, I quickly undressed until I was down to the underthings covering my sex. Her gaze lingered on every single imperfection, each protruding bone or discolored patch of skin—fae didn’t have moles.
Slowly, I turned around to grab the dress, allowing her to notice the landscape on my back. My scars would only hold power over me if I granted them any significance. Never again, I swore to myself at that moment.
“Humans are so fragile.”
“At least we don’t look down on others all the time.”
“Ah, pet, it’s only reality. I could snap your neck in a matter of seconds, and there’s nothing you could do.”
Quickly, I slipped into the gown before I could scream at Danartha or worse.
Her demeaning words, threats, and awful names hurt more than I admitted.
Showing her how she got under my skin would be a grave mistake.
But I stored everything in a little mental folder labeled ‘Information for Dion’.
I wasn’t above tattling, not when it came to that arrogant fae bitch.
I tugged all the fabric where it belonged and closed the ties.
Luckily, the dress was laced in the front, and I could easily secure the crisscross strings myself.
I’d rather die than seek Danartha’s help.
“I get it. You’re better, stronger, and prettier than I am.
Was that all? Because you’re unhelpful, and I have a ball to get ready for. So there’s the door.”
Before I could blink, Danartha was towering right in front of me and showed me her teeth. That gesture was barely impressive when Dion did it, but hers? Stifling a laugh, I raised my eyebrow.
“I was given the duty to aid you. So no, I won’t leave. Sit down.” With more strength than I could resist, she pushed me onto a chair, and a hairbrush appeared in her hand. Of course, she didn’t apply any care when she tore the brush through my locks.
“I’m very well able to tend to my hair myself.”
“The High King gave me a task, and I follow His Royal Majesty’s command. Stay seated.”
By the gods, no. As the next stroke of the brush almost ripped a golden strand out, I attempted to escape but was stopped mid-movement by the fucking chair, which bustled and writhed until the piece of furniture had me restrained to itself.
Magic—this had to be Danartha’s powers. Hadn’t someone mentioned she was a light Wielder?
How was morphing my seating arrangement into a prison connected to that element? “Stop that.”
“No. You’ll listen to me, human filth.”
The brush went through my locks with so much force I couldn’t suppress a pained wince, and my eyes widened in horror as I spotted a long blonde strand landing on the ground.
Was she trying to comb me bald?
I tensed, anticipating every new drag of the tool through my tresses as I had done right before each stroke of my father’s cane. “Then speak.”
“Oh, I will. But first, let me emphasize in how much trouble your friends and their friends will be if you forward any of this to His Royal Highness.”
Divine Immaru, why was every fae threatening me with lost lives being my responsibility?
Also, what was Danartha thinking? Dion knew me too well, and he was like a wild animal that had smelled blood when he assumed I was hiding something from him.
He would be relentless until I’d spilled exactly what had transpired. He’d never accept my silence.
“So, the following is what’s going to happen.
Tonight after the ball, you and I will meet.
You’ll swear a magical oath to stay far away from His Royal Highness, sign a letter—one that I’ll give to him in your name—before I’ll send you through a portal back into your little pathetic world.
His Royal Majesty is supporting this procedure, and not that the future is any of your business, but he promised me Scriosta’s hand in marriage upon his return. ”
This time, I burst into laughter despite the wave of pain shooting through my scalp as another strand was ripped off my head by the wooden brush.
It was obvious she used magic, so the tool gripped my locks and didn’t release them.
After I’d calmed down, I shook my head. “You can force neither him nor me.”
“See, little human vermin, that’s where you’re wrong. You’ll either do as I say, or the letter that I’ll hand over to my intended will tell him about how Galanta was all too much for you and about your decision to end your suffering by jumping from the highest tower of Alaiann Palace.”
“You contemplate feeding him a lie about me committing suicide?”
“Everyone tried to stop you, but you slipped through the cracks. How tragic.”
“Even if you succeeded with either of your ploys, you’re forgetting something very vital.
Dion isn’t stupid, and your world would morph into one of pain and misery so fast, you wouldn’t even have time to scream.
” My backtalk resulted in another sacrificed lock of hair on the ground, and I could swear that my scalp was bleeding.
“Oh, the High King will ensure that Scriosta stays in line. Eachtrannach, face your reality. You’ve already lost. I will become queen one day. Not some scrawny, damaged cretin like you.”
“As if I cared about a title.”
“Please. Next, you spin some absurd tale about how you have genuine feelings for a horrid monster like him.”
Enough was enough. Twisting my upper body, pure fury aided me in freeing one of my arms, and without hesitation, I slapped her as hard as I could.
“Belittle me as much as you want. Hurt me as well as you can. Threaten me, I don’t give a shit.
But never, ever insult Dion again. Or you’ll regret the day you were born.
You assume that I’m harmless? Wrong. Not that long ago, I tainted my soul with a predator who didn’t deserve to live, and believe me, with the right motivation, I would fucking thrust a dagger into someone’s throat again. ”
The hairbrush splintered in Danartha’s hand, and with satisfaction, I observed her cheek reddening.
This would teach her the lesson not to disrespect Dion.
Her face contorted into an ugly scowl, and she snapped her teeth at me, barely missing my nose.
Of course, I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut. “No, thank you. I prefer Dion’s bites.”
Everything tumbled out of her face as the meaning behind my mockery sank in.
Before she could retaliate, though, the door opened, and a familiar form sauntered inside, narrowed his eyes, and prowled to us.
Picking up one of the discarded locks from the ground, the newcomer stared at the female fae with unveiled violence.
“Lady Danartha, if you don’t abandon His Royal Highness’ quarters within the next ten seconds, you’ll regret testing my patience. ”
“Says who?”
“You really want to pretend that you don’t know Thain? Carthain?” Scoffing, I couldn’t believe her audacity.
Also, I was more than relieved that the redhead had barged in.
I yelped when the wood keeping me hostage morphed into ash so quickly that I’d neither seen nor felt the flames. Perhaps I should have been ashamed that I jumped to my feet and hid behind my friend, but I wasn’t.
“The High King himself tasked me with helping the Eachtrannach to prepare for the ball.”
Thain’s eyes trailed from the strand of my hair between his fingers to the ones lying on the floor, and equal parts horror and wrath were written in his pale pink irises.
“Then don’t mention to him that I sent you away, and maybe I won’t report to my prince what you did to his beloved treasure.”
Danartha scoffed, but—was there a glimmer of fear in her eyes?
“I have to fix my makeup anyway. And you, Eachtrannach, remember what we parleyed about. The choice is yours.” And then she strutted away.
“Thanks, Thain. I’ll make sure Dion won’t rip off your head for barging into his quarters unannounced.”
“Darling, he himself gave me the order to keep you safe.”
“Yes, and he’s so reasonable. But you’re not in danger. The same can’t be said about his ex-girlfriend. I’m angry enough to ensure he’ll learn everything she did.”
“They never—”
“I don’t care. His awful taste is something I’ll have to discuss with him and not with you.”
Thain lowered himself to the floor and picked up the remaining tresses of hair I’d lost. He scowled at the locks, then his gaze softened when he regarded me. “She’ll regret mutilating you. Darling, are you in pain? At least the good chunk of hair missing is rather invisible.”
“Don’t worry. There’s worse I endured.”
“That doesn’t make her deeds any better.” Thain glowered, still clutching my poor, dead locks. “What choice did Danartha hint at?”
“Oh, that’s a fun one. Either I’ll meet her after the ball, swear an oath to stay away from Dion, and then go home so she can celebrate her engagement to the monster.
Her words, not mine. Or I can pick being involved in a murd—I mean, a tragic accident framed as suicide with me as the corpse.
In this case too, Galrach promised her Dion’s hand in marriage. ”
Thain was the most relaxed fae I’d ever met.
Flirtatious, a bit shallow, funny. He had a tendency to chat too much too fast and to disregard personal space as a mere suggestion that held no value for himself.
So, when his whole body language turned murderous in a way that rivaled Dion’s expression—ironically, the one the prince usually reserved for the redhead—my eyes widened.
“As if I’d allow such crap to happen. None of us would, not only because of Dion, but also because you’re one of us. And we protect each other.”
And like Antas did not that long ago, Thain pulled me into a crushing hug. My heart, moments ago angry and afraid, melted with pure bliss because I’d found friends like the males. And on the edge of my mind, I was relieved Dion was far, far away and wouldn’t smell the redhead on my skin.
As Thain released me from his warm embrace, his face returned to its normal smiling state. “And now, sweet thing, sit down over here so I can fix your hair.”