Chapter 26

“S vangrior?” The angry fae was striding away from my room as Frima and I approached it. He whirled around at her call, then scowled when he saw me.

“Yes?”

“I thought you were to accompany us into town?”

“I had things to take care of here. Where is Maz?”

She shrugged. “It seems he has things to take care of too.”

She fished a key from a pouch on her belt and unlocked the door to my room.

“Be sure to lock it with magic when she is in there,” Svangrior said, glaring at me. I glared back at him before stepping into my room. Part of me was nervous that Voror would be there, and the fae might see him. But the room was empty, no large white and gold owl perched anywhere I could see.

“Behave,” Frima said, poking her head through the door. “I’ll send Brynja along soon.”

* * *

“Who has a ball at midnight?” I muttered, as Brynja and I devoured the cheese and bread on the tray she’d brought with her. It had taken a few attempts to get the girl to share the food with me, but eventually she had relented. There was far too much for one person, and we were waiting for the seamstress to deliver the dress I was supposed to wear.

“If it was any earlier, the kitchens and the seamstresses wouldn’t have had time to get everything ready.” Brynja shuddered. “Freya help anyone who doesn’t deliver what the Queen wants.”

“Do you know what room the ball will be held in?” I asked, sending a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be in that ghastly throne room.

“There’s a grand courtyard, in the center of the palace, my lady.”

“Outside?” Hope spiked in me, though I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like having no roof meant freedom.

“Yes. I’ve not been there myself, but I’ve heard the others talking about it all afternoon.”

There was a knock at the door and the maid rushed to answer it. Frima stepped in holding an armful of black fabric. “Your room having to be locked by magic is a pain in my behind,” she scowled. “Apparently I’m now doing deliveries.”

Brynja took the dress from her. “Thank you, my lady,” she said, dipping low for the fae.

As soon as she was gone, the girl laid the dress out on the bed. I stared at it. “Did you say the seamstress made this today?”

Brynja nodded. “Just for you.”

I let out a long breath. “Never in a million years did I think I’d wear something like this.”

“Let’s see how it fits,” Brynja said, clapping her hands together.

It took longer than I would have imagined to get the dress and hair and make-up as the maid wanted it. I was putting my trust in her entirely, not even looking at my reflection until she said she was done. I was worried that my nerves would get the better of me if I did.

Tenacity, a smart mouth, and a talent for provoking people into making mistakes, were where I was comfortable. Wearing ballgowns was a far cry from anything I was equipped to deal with.

“Right, I think that’s it. Are you ready to see?”

I nodded. The dress made a pretty jangling noise as I stood up from the stool where she’d been pinning Voror’s feather into my hair.

With a deep breath, I looked into the full-length mirror inside the wardrobe door.

Freya help me.

I looked… Well, if it weren’t for my copper hair, then I would have looked like one of them. The fae.

The dress was made from black velvet and was outrageously revealing. The neckline plunged between my breasts, the fabric only closing at my naval. The fabric at the shoulders was gathered into two metal tubes of fine rings that were colored gold. A black velvet collar fastened around my neck, and a fine web of intricate gold-colored metal draped down from it, covering my bare skin. A matching belt of glittering metal draped over my hips, down to where a long split in the figure-hugging skirt started.

None of the metal was real gold, but they had made it look like it was.

Black and gold.

A gold-giver , betrothed to a shadow-fae.

I drew in another breath. My hair looked incredible, curled artfully around the warded headband with what must have been hundreds of small pins, strands left loose in all the right places. The powder on my cheeks and lips made my eyes look even more green than they were.

“What do you think?” Brynja asked nervously.

“You’re very talented,” I said, unable to tear my eyes from the woman in the mirror.

It wasn’t me. I could see my own features, and the reflection moving as I did. But this woman… She was meant for something more than I had ever been.

“There’s a cape. To go with the dress.”

I forced myself to turn to the maid. “A cape?”

She moved to the bed and picked up a black swath of fabric. She placed the cape over my shoulders, and turned me around in front of the mirror. The shoulders were formed of interlocking golden scales, almost like short feathers, and the back of the cape dipped low, the fabric connected by golden chains that draped right over my rune mark.

“Fit for a Queen, my lady,” Brynja breathed.

“A fae queen.”

Brynja’s eyes met mine in the mirror, and I couldn’t decipher her look. Awe? Or fear.

I would have expected to feel uncomfortable with so much bare skin on show. Refuse to wear the outfit, even. But I felt like I was wearing armor. It made no sense to me, how the lack of fabric could feel stronger than plates and leather. But for the first time since my life had turned upside-down, maybe even the first time in my life, I felt like I could command some sort of respect.

And I needed respect here. I needed allies, and I needed information. The girl inside the fierce dress hadn’t changed, I realized, touching my copper hair. She would still give her life to free her friends. And risk everything for a shot at freedom.

* * *

When the bang on the door came, I assumed it would be the Prince. But Ellisar was on the other side. “Wow. You look like a fae,” he said, before flicking his eyes to my hair. “Sort of.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” he shrugged. “You get a human escort tonight, just to really get the court talking,” he said, before offering me an elbow.

His war paint was precise, and his leathers clean. He was wearing a black shirt that was tight across his bulky chest, and he smelled like soap. “See you later, Brynja,” I said over my shoulder.

Ellisar snorted. “No, you won’t. Maz is not letting you go back to your room alone looking like that.”

I glowered at him. “You’ve scrubbed up too, I see.”

We began walking along the corridor toward the main staircase.

“It’s a ball. There will be mead, and wine.”

“And you need to be clean for that?”

“Ah, well. You are talking to man of experience when it comes to balls.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Enlighten me.”

“Women and wine are a great combination. They lose a lot of their inhibitions. Some of the best nights of my life have involved more than one woman, and a great many more than one bottle of wine. However.” He held up a knowing finger. “I’ve found them more inclined to do all sorts of things if you wash it first.”

I held up my own hand, before he could clarify what ‘it’ was. “Not sure that’s the useful insight into fae balls that I was looking for,” I said.

“Oh. Right. Erm…” He put his hand to his mouth, thinking. “Don’t upset the Queen,” he said, eventually. We were halfway down the grand central staircase, and I could hear voices and movement in the main entrance hall below.

“The queen already dislikes me.”

“Then avoid the queen. Oh, and don’t drink the fae wine. Unless you want to wake up with no idea where any of your clothes are, and a really sore—”

“And that’s enough of that story.” Frima swooped down past us on the stairs, stopping in front of us. She took in my outfit and tipped her head. “Nice.”

“You too.” She was wearing a black gown trimmed with purple, with a tight corset top and swishy lace-covered skirt.

“Maz wanted me to give you this.” She held out her hand. Sitting in the middle of her palm was a ring.

The wavy band was a silver snake, and the reptile’s open jaw held a gleaming red ruby.

I picked it up, the implications of the bond washing over me.

I was bound by unbreakable magic to marry the man who had kidnapped me.

I would never be free.

“I thought women loved jewelry,” Ellisar frowned. “Why do you look so sad?”

Frima rolled her eyes at him. “Women also like choosing their own husband, verslingr ,” she muttered. She looked back at me. “You need to wear it. For the ball.”

I slipped the ring onto my finger. The metal was cold and hard, and it felt wrong on my skin.

I would find a way out.

I had to.