Chapter One
Adira
“You look beautiful, Adira.” Calla examined me through the dusty, cracked floor-length mirror. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “The Mother Bronwyn would be jealous.”
I stared at the reflection grimacing back at me. She was someone I no longer recognized. My usually unruly hair had been swept up in a plait that wrapped around the crown of my head, a shimmer powder smeared delicately across my eyelids, and the dress…Gods, I felt like a cake displayed in the window of a bakery.
“I hardly think the gods feel such petty emotions as jealousy, Calla.”
My tone was sharper than I had intended it to be. But it was simply too hard to keep my thoughts straight when my corset had been laced so tightly I couldn’t take a deep breath. Calla winced back.
“Sorry,” I muttered, running a hand along the deep blue, satin fabric of my skirt. “I’m just nervous.”
The handmaiden tutted and gently smacked my hands away as if touching the fabric would ruin the illusion altogether.
That’s all it was: an illusion. To the untrained eye, I looked every bit like the daughter of a royal dignitary my family so desperately wanted me to be. Tamed, docile, smart, but not too smart. Pretty, but unassuming. Like an actor in a pantomime.
It was all a fucking lie.
I woke up this morning like I had most: with a brutal hangover and several fewer marks than I had the previous night. But instead of getting to sleep the nausea off, Calla had awoken me at first light.
We spent the entire morning concocting this elaborate illusion for the fae royalty en route to our modest home in Mirthward. It was a lot of fluffing of fabrics, hair brushing, and braiding. And me, desperately trying to keep my breakfast from coming back up. Needless to say, I wasn’t in the highest of spirits.
“You’re about to meet your betrothed, my lady! You should be excited, not nervous!” Calla licked her thumb before wiping away an invisible streak of dirt from my cheek. This was a habit she picked up when I was a small child. Although, more often than not I did have some dirt on my person at any given moment. I tilted my head away from her touch; a force of habit for me as well.
However, as I stared back into my oldest companion’s eyes, the gravity of my situation caused a knot in my stomach to form. I would leave Mirthward tonight. And I might never see her again.
I reached for Calla’s hands, “I’m going to miss you so much.”
The handmaiden embraced me in the way she always did. I often felt like Calla was the mother I longed for. She doted on me with care that wasn’t false or transactional. As if she truly loved me.
I clung to the back of her apron and breathed in her scent one last time. “Please write to me,” I added and I felt her head bob on my shoulder as she choked down her tears.
The door to my chamber opened without so much as a courtesy knock, and Calla jumped back, hastily wiping the moisture from her eyes.
We weren’t meant to treat the servants as equals, but the servants of my house were the only people who ever treated me with any kindness. It was a rule I willfully ignored.
“It’s time,” my mother, my real mother eyed me and Calla with a look of disdain from her position by the door. She was, as usual, flanked by my father who appeared as empty-eyed and distant as ever, and one of her guards.
Mother never went anywhere without guards. As the matriarch of Mirthward, she could never be seen as vulnerable. It was considered distasteful and improper. And so, she required protection at all hours of the day.
And yet, she was more than willing to give away her only child to a family she had never met for a handsome dowry.
It was all so fucking stupid. All anyone cared about was money and social status. And my mother was no different.
She eyed me, taking in my cupcake appearance. She never seemed proud of me, but today she at least didn’t look at me with abhorrence.
“They’re here,” she snapped.
Shit.
I had been forced to prepare for this day every day for my entire thirty years of life. Begrudgingly prepare. I fought it every step of the way, much to my parents’ chagrin. This wasn’t something I wanted for myself in the slightest.
But I knew from my earliest memory that one day my parents would sell me off to the highest bidder in exchange for more powerful connections, and a few extra marks to hoard away in a bank. That was the way things were done here. Never mind what I wanted.
As the only daughter of House Áine, it was my duty to “preserve the line.” An idiotic phrase that I had heard over and over growing up.
Preserve the line. Preserve the line…
Those stupid, fucking words bounced around my skull as I made my way down the stairs and into the front parlor where my future awaited.
Demise was probably more apropos.
Upon entering the parlor, I briefly clocked the new faces of my soon-to-be family, but my eyes immediately locked on the Fae Queen.
She sat delicately upon our recently-fluffed settee, her arms crossed mindfully in her lap. She looked like a living portrait.
Her delicate auburn hair curled around her face in long tresses, making her elongated, fae ears stand out. Her silvery blue eyes met mine instantly and I watched as a slow smile spread across her perfect face.
Only then did I realize that everyone who had entered the parlor with me was bowing deeply before her.
Double shit.
I scrambled to curtsy low, just as I had been trained to do. I could feel my mother’s eyes on me assessing every move I made with palpable scrutiny.
“Your Highness,” I squeaked out, standing once more to face the queen.
She did not stand to greet me but offered me a delicate smile. “You must be Lady Adira.”
“I am,” I straightened myself to my full height and did my best to not look as stupid as I felt. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
The Queen Silvestra only suggested a chuckle, before gesturing to the chair adjacent to where she sat.
“Please sit. Would you like some tea?” She raised a finger and one of our servants, Horus, immediately came to her side with a tray of tea and biscuits at the ready. I nodded a brief thank you and glanced up at Horus, praying that he had slipped some whiskey into my cup beforehand.
“Now,” Queen Silvestra began, silently setting her teacup down and facing me fully. “Tell me about yourself, Lady Adira.”
Here we go. I had rehearsed this speech over and over again. It spewed out of my mouth like the vomit I had been fighting back all morning.
“Well, I’m thirty years old, a ripe age for producing offspring,” I choked back the bile building up in my throat. “And in my spare time, I enjoy reading poetry, dancing, and practicing my needlework.”
Lie, lie, all of it was a fucking lie.
I offered her a demure smile, and she eyed me with a cocked head and amused smirk.
“Lovely,” she offered at last. “Now, I suppose you would like to meet your betrothed, yes?”
I really didn’t, but I could practically hear my mother’s voice in my head.
Preserve the line, Adira. Preserve the line.
And so, I gave the queen a small, cordial nod. It’s what my mother would want me to do.
Once again Queen Silvestra raised a hand without so much as glancing over her shoulder and I found myself looking towards a male I hadn’t paid much attention to standing in the corner of the parlor near a window.
The midday sun cast a golden hue across his cheeks, making his dark hair appear like a halo in the light. His eyes were the same grayish blue as his mother’s. His mouth hooked at the corner in a small, amused smirk. Gods.
He was beautiful.
He offered me a suggestion of a bow. “Lady Adira, your beauty has been spoken of all across Terrinia. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, warily. Now, that was a lie.
Folk were more likely to speak of my incredible ability to cheat at cards without getting caught. No one ever spoke of my beauty.
It occurred to me at that moment that we both were pawns in a game neither one of us had any interest in playing. It was a game we both had been preparing for every day of our lives.
And while I was no good with courting or small talk. Or walking in heels. Or keeping my mouth shut. I was good at games.
Winning? Now, that’s something I could do.
I averted my gaze, shyly and offered the prince a decline of my head.
“Prince Rhylif, it is an honor to meet you at last. I’ve dreamt of this day every night since I was a wee babe.”
I had always been a skilled liar, something that came in handy when bluffing in a game of cards. But as I met the prince’s gaze, a small sinking feeling built in my chest. He raised a single amused eyebrow at me, and I began to doubt my abilities to bullshit.
“As have I.”
It was all he offered, but at least he didn’t call me out for my overt bullshit.
At once, he turned back to the queen. “Mother, it’s getting late. We should begin our journey back before the sun sets.”
At that moment, my own mother jumped forward in a tizzy. “Please, we would be honored if you stayed with us for supper, Your Highness.”
But the Fae Queen didn’t seem interested in the slightest. She merely stood, accepting the hand the prince extended towards her.
“My son is right. These roads aren’t safe past sunset, we should leave. Lady Adira, I assume you’re all packed?”
That’s it?
I spoke less than twenty words to them and my parents were already okay with them stealing me away. Gods, I knew the fae were desperate to extend a peace offering to the humans, but was this really the best way to do it? I felt a bit like livestock being led off to a butchery.
“Yes, I’m all packed.” I held my hands behind my back hiding the clench in my fists.
“Good.” Her eyes seared a hole directly through me. “Rhylif, please escort your bride out to the carriage. We’ll send for your luggage at once.”
The prince nodded cordially before extending an arm for me. I reluctantly took it and let him escort me to one of the lavish white and blue carriages that sat in front of our manor. I even let him help me into the carriage like a good lady but found myself rolling my eyes as he slammed my side of the carriage door without a single word.
There was silence at last. It buzzed in my ears so loudly it was almost deafening. But I liked it. It was leaps and bounds better than having to ramble on about how lucky I was to be married off to such great fae lineage.
The silence extended, giving me just enough time to find the flask of bourbon hidden in the garter along my thigh. I took a deep swig, savoring the rich flavors as they coated my throat before securing it back in its hiding place.
Just in time.
Moments later, the other side of the carriage opened and Prince Rhylif climbed in. He took the seat across from me and paid me little attention as he made himself comfortable on the plush leather.
I supposed the queen took a separate carriage when I heard the sound of beating hoofs and felt the lurching of wheels. From the window, I watched the manor disappear behind us as we began on the road through the Southern Emeratia Wilds. I said a silent goodbye to Calla and Horus, to my friends at the pub, to my favorite pair of trousers that hung in my wardrobe. To everything I knew.
Only then did I feel the prince’s eyes on me. I snapped my attention back to him. He still wore that smug grin as he watched me carefully. I cleared my throat and spoke.
“Apologies for my timidness, prince. I’m just a bit…overwhelmed.”
The prince let out a snort, and when he spoke his voice was no longer annoyingly saccharine.
“Well, aren’t you a good little liar,” he crooned.
Triple shit.
