Chapter 12

TWELVE

Cassia

I don't know where Prince Sulien wants to talk, but I sure as hell know why. He keeps my hand on his arm as we walk down the darkened halls, leaving behind the other fae princes. Outside of their company, the palace seems darker and colder. Or maybe the warmth of the three men made me forget how cold life really is. Either way, I feel uneasy as our steps echo down the empty halls.

What will Prince Sulien tell me? I hope it's that he has a solution for this, but maybe that's too easy. Maybe the mess we made will be harder to unravel than that.

To my surprise, the prince leads me to his bedroom, of all places. A room I'd so recently cleaned while fantasizing about his dick. When he opens the door, I hesitate for a moment, trying to ignore the memories rising up inside of me, but he leads me inside.

Somehow, it feels wrong to be here with him. Wrong to be alone with him. This arrangement is supposed to be on paper only. What will people think?

What will the other princes think ?

I try to shake off the thought, because it doesn't matter. I'm not really marrying them. One way or another, there's a way out of this. I just hope Prince Sulien has already figured it out.

He releases me and closes the door behind us, then walks toward the fireplace. I pause, looking around the room. I've been here so many times before, but never this late. Never under circumstances that don't involve my servitude. It feels… wrong to be here, in every way.

Even if the room is beautiful.

The moon breathes life into the large, well-decorated space, casting our shadows on the wall. The low fire illuminates his eyes, making them glow. As much as I hate it, he's even more breathtaking in the moonlight, with the glow softening the hard lines of his face.

I watch him as he uses a poker to encourage the flames to grow, and then he tosses a log on before reaching out and touching the wood. The log is engulfed in fire in seconds, but his hand lingers in the flames, probably enjoying the heat like most summer fae.

My muscles clench as I study him. The asshole is so damn beautiful that his jawline could've been hand carved by the summer court's finest sculptor. And as for the rest of him… his tight clothes are almost painted on, straining across his hard body, every inch defined by muscles.

It's swoon-worthy shit.

Did we really make an agreement that this whole thing was a business deal? My body kind of regrets that now.

One handsome fae I might be willing to handle. Unfortunately, this little situation involves me handling four of them. Not just four of them, but their dicks too. Which makes me feel more like I've chosen a different kind of whorehouse to pay the bills, and I don't like feeling like a whore.

I'm an adventurous girl, but that's too many, even for me. At least, I think it is. A picture starts to form in my head, and I jerk my focus back to the man in front of me, feeling my cheeks heat.

"So, are we going to talk about this mess we're in?"

He stands a little straighter, regarding me with an expression so blank that it pisses me off. He can't be surprised that this is a crazy, upsetting situation. If he thought it was normal, he wouldn't have asked me to come to his room. Or am I the crazy one?

Nope, it's him. Definitely him.

But the asshole says nothing, just stares at me in response. He's going to make me do all the talking, isn't he? Even though he called me in here, and he screwed everything up.

"That's why I'm here, right?" I snap. "To discuss what happened and how to get out of this?"

He's still quiet, and it makes me even angrier. I know he's not big on conversation, but this situation requires an immediate discussion. He needs to be talking and telling me exactly why this happened. He needs to be laying out the steps to fix it, not staring at me like a moron.

I agreed to marry him. That's it. Not a whole handful of horny fae.

"None of this was a part of our deal," I prod him, although I know he already knows.

He gives me nothing. Nothing. At. All.

I take a deep breath and slowly release it, hoping it calms the storm brewing inside of me. This evening went wrong from the moment I stepped into the ballroom and didn't spot him immediately. I should've just left then.

Geez. Pity party for one, anyone?

No, I did this for a reason. For my family. Being queen is better than being a whore. I have to remember that. But I'm truly not at a place where I believe my only choice is to play wife to four fae. Or trick three men into thinking I'm their mate, and taking their true mate away. I can't be expected to smile, talk, and play the part of a woman bound to four fae when I'm terrified to even play the part to one.

Surely, at some point, someone will figure out the truth. I can't lie like this to men I'm married to, can I? And what about children? As a human, it'll be nearly impossible to become pregnant. Will the four courts be left with nothing but bastard kids from whatever women my horny husbands are running around with?

Who will become the next set of rulers?

When he still doesn't speak, I decide to try a different tactic. "How did the spell go so wrong? Did you use too much of the potion?" I stare at him, trying to look less aggressive. Maybe he'll respond to that?

His gaze shifts, but I still can't tell what he's thinking. "No."

My freaking eye twitches. "No, what?"

He shrugs. "Things changed." Then, he looks just beyond me out the window into the darkness of the night, like his answer ends the conversation.

"Then change them back. You're the fucking king." Apparently, my plan to try not to be aggressive has gone out the window.

"I won't be the king until I marry you. None of us will be." He holds my gaze, something in his eyes I can't decipher.

Does he really expect me to care that he can't be king without me? That's the least of my problems right now. "That sounds like a royal fae problem, not a former maid problem."

"I wasn't implying it was your problem," he says, lifting a brow. "Just that I'm not yet king."

Fine, he technically didn't say that, but his words definitely implied it was something I should care about. Still, he doesn't seem to be really getting the problem here. It's as if this was all part of the plan, and I'm just some hysterical woman upset for no reason.

I take a step closer to him, glaring as he watches me. "I need an explanation. What happened? What went wrong?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "There's nothing to explain. What's done is done."

What the actual fuck?

"Undo it!" I shout, taking another step closer. Demanding an answer I most certainly deserve.

His expression gentles, if only a little, and his words come out softer. "At this point, we don't have a choice. We have to go through with this."

Our eyes lock, and my breath hitches. I can't seem to look away. The power of his eyes pulls me in and makes me imagine things between us that don't exist. Like that in another life, we were really mates, and we stood on the same side instead of opposite ones.

But there's no other life, only this one.

I force air into my lungs when I look away. "It's ‘we' now? We don't have a choice? What's changed?"

Is he trying to paint us as a team now? You become teammates with a shared goal. We entered into a deal that was mutually beneficial, but he screwed it up… for me, not for him. They're all the same, these fae, only concerned with themselves and never worried about how their actions affect the humans that clean after them. And we humans are always at the bottom, scraping our way through life.

"It was always we ," he says.

I snort. "You don't have to fuck four men."

He flinches. "But I am connected to them now. Forever."

"Because of the spell you screwed up!" He can't really be serious acting like he's an innocent party in this whole thing, can he?

He just stares, like he wants to say something, but he's not. I wait, feeling the damn irresistible pull of his gaze, hoping he finally learns to use his big boy words. But he remains silent.

Fine then. "Either way, no. I won't go through with this. I refuse. You need to figure out a way to get me out of this."

He leans in closer to me, so close that I could reach up and touch him, if I wanted to. "If the court thinks a human tricked them, I'll be fine, but you'll pay with your life. You keep saying what you don't want; is that what you do want? Do you want the fae court to believe you tricked them?"

Shit. He's right. Of course dying's not what I want, not at all. I just thought there was another way.

"Is there no way to undo this?" And I hate the pleading note in my voice.

He flinches like I've struck him again. "No."

I feel tears sting my eyes. The realization that if he can't get me out of this, we can't get out of this comes to me. I can't just flee either and leave my father and grandmother behind. I can't just accept a life as a whore, because no one would allow it from their queen. I can't do anything except marry the four men.

Marry them and lie. All the time. I won't even be able to play the part of Prince Sulien's wife and then hide in my room, reading and enjoying a life of leisure. There won't be spare time or off time. I'll be a wife to four men. I'll have to be their wife in public and in private. I'll have to pretend I feel whatever the hell mates are supposed to feel.

There will be no escape. And if ever the princes find their true mates, my life will be on the line.

"This is all your fault," I tell him, sounding angry but fighting tears. "You're trying to be the king, but you can't even protect me from this. You won't even try. You're just a boy playing in his dad's palace, acting like you're in charge."

The slightest tick in his eye lets me know I finally hit a chord.

"Why did you even choose me? You ruined my life once already when we were children. You haven't done enough to me?" Wow, I don't even know where that came from, but I meant it.

And he looks pissed.

"You have to know I didn't want this to happen!" he thunders, fury etched in his brows. "I had a plan–the perfect plan–and now it's fucked!"

I almost step away from him, shocked by his unexpected fury, but I force myself not to move. If I show myself to be a coward now, I'll always be a coward.

He rubs his hands across his beautiful face, his jaw clenched. His gaze sweeps to me with a look of pure agony, then away. And it's strange. I can almost feel how tense every muscle in his body is, can almost hear his heart racing, and for some reason, that makes me feel a little better. Like, maybe, this situation is actually bothering him too.

He takes a few steps toward me, reaches out, then drops his hand.

I stare, not sure what to do.

"We're stuck with each other. Accept that." And now he sounds calmer, quieter, and resigned.

My head swims. There's no way out of this, according to him. I'm stuck with four princes as my husbands. My only other choice is to reveal my deception and lose my head to the fae.

But, no, things can't be that hopeless.

I try to push the fear inside of me down at the thought of losing my head and dooming my father and grandmother at the same time, but the fear lingers. "I'm going to find a way out of this."

He sighs. "You can try, but it's going to get you killed."

I look up at him; the expression on his face tells me he believes it. Unfortunately for him, he has no idea how resourceful I can be. Afraid or not, I just need a little more time. Time that I don't have to spend worrying about where my family's next meal will come from.

I can do this.