Chapter 6

SIX

Sulien

Everything about tonight is so fucking fake it makes my teeth hurt, and my headache grows worse. I can spot a glamor from a mile away, and this whole ballroom is one giant glamor. From the decorations to the women who have been throwing themselves at me all night—like rubbing against me will magically turn them into my mate come midnight—it's all a sham.

It's no wonder I'm tired of it all.

Where is she? I check the time again. Midnight is approaching with every passing second. Then, the magic will awaken. Then, I must drink the potion in my pocket, and Cassia must be in my arms.

I hope she just wants to make an entrance.

My lips nearly smile at the thought. Cassia is many things, but most certainly unpredictable. Maybe I hadn't expected her to come flying into my arms with my proposal, but her complete refusal was not among the things I thought she would do.

A fae woman wearing a pink mask winks at me as she passes, and my amusement fades away. I need to focus, to keep my eyes open for Cassia's entrance, to bring her to my side as quickly as possible once she arrives.

Candles flicker all over the massive room, hanging from the ceiling in crystal cages that reflect light in every direction. Black material weaved with amber threads spills from the walls, making the room look dark and mysterious. Concealing couches in shadowy corners where fae fuck then exit, straightening their skirts and pretending to be ladies.

I sigh and slowly make my way to the ornate table littered with drinks and more food than necessary… What a waste. None of these women are going to eat. They're going to sip on drinks and hop from man to man, hoping to make some kind of connection.

And the men? They'll spend their evening in dark corners of the castle, fucking random women, taking breaks to sneak potions to keep their dicks hard, and chugging drinks to make them think any of this matters. The whole affair is sad and pointless, like most of life as a fae.

I need a stiff drink right now. Maybe the men have the right idea on that. Forgetting all of this seems like the best thing I can do.

"And how is Prince Sulien this evening?" Lady Takara asks, sliding up to me, wearing a white mask with little horns and an auburn dress… which is ballsy as hell. By wearing auburn— wearing my colors—she's basically marking herself as a fae from the Summer Court. As a fae from the House of Wealth, it signifies to everyone that she's hoping that I'll be her mate.

I want nothing to do with this arrogant woman. An arrogant woman who I suspect framed Cassia as a thief. Still, it's never a good idea to insult any fae. Peace between us may have lasted for a long time, but it's more fragile than any of us care to admit.

"I'm fine."

She puts a hand on my arm, which I don't appreciate. "You're looking fine too, and we match!"

I'm wearing black pants and an auburn shirt, along with a golden ring with an amber stone. It's an outfit that's expected of me. Not one I care about in the least bit.

Does this woman actually think I care about my clothes or hers?

When I say nothing, her smile falters. "Are you excited to be matched?"

I'm excited to be king. To rule better than my father before me. Although my father has retired and I've already taken on the responsibility of the king, I get the official title when I wed. The title and an increase in power to help me continue protecting the kingdom from the damn iron demons. "It's a requirement I accept."

She laughs like I've said something charming. "I bet you're hoping to avoid women like that." Then, she nods to some women in one corner.

Those women don't have glamors. They stick together in the shadows, hoping not to have to mingle with the men, their masks doing little to conceal their unhappy emotions. These are the very few fae that have no desire to marry, to have husbands or children, but their families have forced them to come.

My mother was like these women.

The magic claimed her. I'm told she wept as my father took her into his arms. That even with all the power of the magic, and being mates, she hated being claimed by him.

A shiver rolls down my spine. I will never marry a woman who will hate me for it. Nor will I marry a woman I will hate.

My thoughts move to Cassia, and every muscle in my body tightens. It's no lie that I… find her attractive. That I love her fire, her spirit, and the way she seems to fear nothing. But that's not why I made this proposal to her. I made it because I've known her since we were children. She's smart, capable, and deserving of all the goodness in the world.

Goodness I couldn't give her when we were children.

I grip the potion in my pocket. If she comes, if we do this, she will play the role of my wife well. She will never cause me embarrassment. She will make me proud in everything she does. And I won't crush her spirit the way my father did to my mother because she won't let me.

And because of our arrangement.

Lady Takara steps into my view. "Checking out the beautiful women?"

I shrug, not sure what she wants me to say. The truth, that I couldn't care less about them, rises on my tongue, but I swallow it down. The temptation to tell her that the only thing I want to see is Cassia walking in almost makes me smile, imagining the reaction of the pathetic woman, but that too is information I don't want her to have.

She runs her hand up and down my arm. "Just so you know, if I become your mate, you don't need to limit yourself to only me." Then she winks and saunters away, like I'm going to enjoy the view of her flat ass.

I shake my head, letting my gaze roam around the room. Searching for a woman in gold. Trying not to think about what I'll do if she doesn't show.

Gripping the potion again, I take a deep breath. She has to show. I refuse to have a true mate. I refuse to marry and break a woman into pieces the way my father did to my mother. Only through an arrangement, only with Cassia, can I treat my wife like a business partner instead of a spouse. Only with her will I have an unnatural distance between two married people that will keep both our hearts and souls safe.

But Cassia is still nowhere to be seen.

Show up, damn it. I check the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes until midnight, the time when every fae above the age of twenty-five will have the chance to find their mate. Anyone who doesn't find their mate tonight will have a chance again in five years' time, at the Summer and Winter Solstice when the stars have aligned again and their powers are strongest, to find their mate.

The woman needs to get here. My pulse picks up and I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Trying to focus on the room and not the growing dread in my stomach.

Snatching a drink off a servant's tray, I drink it quickly, then place it on another tray. Summer Solstice should be a night full of new beginnings, but I always dread it, especially this year. This year I've hit twenty-five years old, which means the universe is supposed to show me who I'm meant to be with. It's supposed to pick some unsuspecting fae woman to be my bride.

I'm told that when the magic chooses your mate, it feels like nothing else. Like the instant you see that woman, nothing and nobody else matters. That this person now owns your heart in its entirety, and you would do anything for them.

I find that hard to believe when I watch fae cheat on each other as regularly as the sun rises. My father, before his retirement, insisted that this was a choice for each fae couple. Many see the wants of the body as separate from the wants of the heart, but I don't know how that could be possible. Knowing my luck, I would want a mate, heart and soul, and she would love my money and my title only.

The thought makes a bitter laugh swell in my throat, and I swallow it down.

I pass a woman who I think I recognize. I stare at her, trying to figure it out beneath her mask. Then I realize she's got a glamor on too. Again, I want to laugh. What's the point of all this? There are no glamors in daily married life. Do these fae men and women really not think enough ahead to consider what it'll be like when their partner sees the real them at some point?

A glamor certainly never helped my father woo my mother, or made my mother hate him any less. It certainly never made my childhood any happier, any less lonely, having two parents who never wanted to be in the same room together. Two parents who never wanted to be in a room with me .

I shake the negativity away. Cassia's going to show up tonight, and I won't have to relive my childhood in a different role. I won't have to be anything like my father, nor force a child on her that she'll hate. She'll show. She has to.

"Sulien, my man, I've been looking for you!"

Cobar, the prince of the Spring Court, stands before me looking like some strange combination of an angel and a devil. His curly, honey-blonde hair is loose about his shoulders, and his clothes are even tighter than usual. He's wearing the colors of the Spring Court, shades of green, and looks nearly as pretty as the women, but without the glamor.

"And I've been avoiding you," I tell him, lifting a brow .

He throws back his head and laughs, then turns to survey the room beside me. "Anyone here tickle your fancy?" he asks, his lips parting into his infamous wide grin.

Cobar is the life of the party, even when there isn't one happening. He lives and breathes for fun. I'll never understand how he manages it, but he is who he is, and he honestly has always helped my mood. Opposites attract. Isn't that what they say?

One of the ways the courts keep peace is by trying to have royal children around the same time, and by having them spend their time traveling between each other's courts to help their bonds. So, over time, Cobar has become one of my closest friends, even if we're complete opposites. He's simply… hard to dislike. Impossible, really.

"Did you hear me, old man?" he questions, grinning, because he and I are the same age.

I sigh deeply and shake my head. No one tickles my fancy. This whole display serves no purpose. It's self-indulgent and extravagant for no reason at all. "All of this is a waste of my time."

He gives me a big-eyed look of shock. "How can you say that in the face of so much beauty?" Then he points. "There's a gorgeous green-eyed brunette over there who would give me beautiful babies. I may take her to a side closet and have a practice round." But Cobar doesn't linger on her; he scans the room, smiling and winking at every woman he sees.

I chuckle and shake my head at him. He's like a child indulging in sweets. One should be enough, but he wants them all just because they're available. I watch him work the room with his eyes. The women all respond to him with smiles and waves .

My friend is a playboy, but the women don't seem to mind.

"So, you don't think your queen is here tonight?" he asks, seeming truly curious.

I don't think my mate exists, but I don't tell him that. "I don't."

"Well, it's a good thing we have the Winter Solstice next, maybe yours will be there." He makes eyes with a leggy redhead and gives her a little nod. She blushes and waves at him. "Whether mine is here tonight or not will be fate. Either it's my time to settle down or I still have a little more time for fun."

Is that how he sees this? Marriage as the thing to settle him down, and not finding his mate meaning he can continue having his fun? I know Cobar would never cheat on his partner, but over the years that I've known him, I've always suspected he was looking forward to marriage. To having a partner and someone to love. But, perhaps, he sees it as a bit of an obligation too?

"I need a wife to rule as king. That's all any of this is about for me," I tell him honestly, glancing around the room, still not finding Cassia.

"We aren't our fathers."

I stiffen and look at him.

Cobar's blue eyes are glued on mine. He's being serious, for once. "We're different men, and we will have different relationships with our queens."

I shrug, hating the ache in my chest. "I'm here because it's required. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"All this beauty does nothing for you?" he asks, waving a hand over the room again as if by doing so I'll see what he sees. "Come on, I know little Sulien enjoys his ladies." The seriousness didn't last. But then, it never does with him.

"There's nothing little about any part of me," I tell him right back, smiling. "These women, coated in glamors, willing to do anything to be queen, are simply not my type. I mean, do you really think any of them truly care about us?"

He sighs dramatically. "You're such a spoilsport, literally the dullest person I've ever met. Loosen up, and maybe let something other than your fist pleasure little Sulien tonight."

The redhead moves in our direction, and Cobar strides up to her, immediately wrapping his arms around her tiny waist and pulling her into his arms for a dance. There's no resistance. She leans into him, and they move with the ease and smoothness of longtime lovers dancing to their favorite song. Although I know for Cobar, if she's not his mate, the best she can hope for from him is a night together. Cobar doesn't keep his ladies around for long.

I grab another drink from a table, the first one having had no effect on me or my mood. A headache rises, and I grit my teeth and let more power out to the barriers surrounding our lands. This is the role of the princes, to always keep the barriers reinforced with our magic, but the role isn't an easy one. Even tonight.

Zane Frost, Prince of the Winter Court, approaches the table close by without looking at me. His head is held high, as always, and his long, white hair spills down his back and chest. His harsh features are as cold as his lands as he snags a drink from the table and looks out at the room. Anyone would think he was miserable to be here, but the truth is, he always looks this way .

Only Cobar and I would know that beneath his surface… he is truly miserable here.

Zane sticks his finger in his drink, presumably making it colder. He finds no comfort in the heat of the Summer Court. His silent suffering whenever he visits my court is almost palpable to anyone who knows him.

I feel sorry for his future wife if she's from here, because the misery that is the Winter Court will weigh on her. They live very differently out there, spending their days skating on ice, drinking warm drinks, and playing in snow. A summer fae in the winter court would be a sad sight indeed.

When Zane glances up and spots me, he slides closer. "Cobar is in his element tonight, isn't he?"

"That he is," I respond, lifting my glass to him.

We stare at Cobar as he runs his hands down the red-head's back and grabs a handful of her ass. She looks happy as can be, while the jealousy of the women around him practically oozes. Cobar is the kind of prince these women need. One who is eager for their attention, and to find his mate.

Where the hell is Cassia? I check the time again, feeling a mix of irritation and nervousness.

"Do you think we'll find our mates tonight?" Zane takes a sip from his drink, and a look of relief comes and goes across his face in an instant. No doubt finding it satisfactorily cold, he downs the whole thing in one gulp, then turns to watch the dance floor once more. Unlike me, I suspect that Zane wishes he was out on that floor, but he's never felt particularly at ease with women or celebrations. Hell, outside of Cobar and me, he's never found it particularly easy to make friends.

And we're royalty. Everyone wants to pretend to be our friends. That's how difficult my poor friend finds the social world. I may have allowed few people close to me, but the difference is that's been by choice.

"I hope I don't find my mate," I tell him.

Zane's harsh features shift into an almost-smile. "I know that. That wasn't my question."

I don't want to answer him, so I change tactics. "Are you hoping to find your mate?"

He tilts his head and doesn't answer for a long minute. "I wouldn't mind… someone. If it were the right someone."

I study him, trying to decide if I'm surprised, then decide that I'm not. Zane is from a harsh land with harsh people, but beneath his surface he's exactly the opposite. I think all his life he's searched for gentleness, for kindness, but has only ever found anything close to what he needs through the animals he befriends.

A gentle partner might change his life. "If she's your mate, she should be the right one. Right?"

He studies his diamond ring. "I suppose. That's what they say, isn't it?"

It is. But all three of us have seen evidence that chosen mates might not be all that we've been told. That maybe finding your mate isn't the fairy tale the elder fae wants us to believe.

"Has anyone caught your eye?" Again, I'm curious. Fae not of age cannot attend the Winter and Summer Solstice Balls. I've always wondered if a fae simply takes no interest in another person one moment, and then the magic makes that person irresistible a moment later… or if some level of attraction has always existed between the people.

I've heard that it happens both ways .

Zane shrugs. "I've found a few fuckable women tonight, but I'm not marrying any of these mindless fae. I hope. They just want the title. They have no idea what we deal with or even who we are, and they'll probably never care. I imagine a lifetime with them would be miserable."

I nod, although I don't even know if I'd actually fuck anyone here. The glamors hide their truths from us. It's all an illusion. If they have to hide what they look like, what else needs to be hidden? What will show up whether they want it to or not once we're married?

It's not a risk I want to take.

We stand in comfortable silence, watching the ball play out in front of us for the rest of the song. Cobar kisses up his partner's arm all the way to her neck. She blushes and giggles before he sends her on her way and finds another dance partner: someone from the Winter Court this time. He's tasting all the samples tonight.

"It's unbelievable how much magic these iron demons need from us. It's double the amount it used to be," Zane says, squeezing his eyes closed and rubbing his temples.

My head aches from the mention of them. "The headaches are the worst part. If we had a way to give our magic without the headaches, I'd be happy to do it."

"Those headaches are just a wonderful bonus to being the powerful princes that we are." Zane scowls. I do too. It's all bullshit, the things we have to quietly do to protect our lands. Hilarious bullshit.

"What's so funny?" Forrest, Prince of the Fall Court, asks as he slithers up to us.

I resist the urge to punch him in the face. I promised myself I'd behave tonight, but just seeing his face makes me want to forget that promise .

"We're just talking about how wonderful it is to be the princes of our courts." Zane doesn't look at Forrest as he speaks.

Forrest is a complete asshole. Out of all the courts, the Summer and Fall Court have fought the most. And while the Summer fae are more than glad to be at peace, the Fall fae live for war. They itch for any excuse to cause death and destruction, so we always have to treat them with care.

Over the years, I've spent just as much time with Forrest as I have with Cobar and Zane, and I still don't trust him. He's arrogant. Selfish. And impossible to read. I'm pretty sure that every word that comes out of his mouth conceals a lie.

"Oh, you mean how being a prince means that we could fuck any girl in this room if we wanted to?" He grins and lets his eyes wander around the room.

Zane and I exchange looks.

Women seem to shrink back from him as he stares at them, and I wonder if it's because of the scar that goes across his face, through his forehead, eye, and cheek, or if it's because of his reputation as a hunter. Maybe it's neither. Maybe it's simply because he's a Fall fae and the rumors of their ruthlessness is enough for all the women to be hoping not to be claimed as his mate.

I don't know, but Forrest tosses his head full of long, auburn hair and raises a glass to the women. "To their chances of claiming one of us."

Zane and I smirk at one another.

Forrest slams his drink and then slaps it onto a tray. I almost remind him that this isn't his court full of huge, laughing hunters and the servants that do their best to avoid them, but I hold my tongue. A moment of arrogance isn't worth war claiming my lands and people once more. I intend to be better than my father as ruler, not worse, and that would not be a good start.

"There are a lot of beautiful women here tonight. Maybe one will be your mate," Zane says, tossing another drink back, playing the part of diplomat, when he knows I won't.

Forrest smirks. "Or maybe none will be, and I'll have a few more years of fun."

I scoff. His mind is in one place tonight, but I guess I don't blame him.

A headache slams through me, and I wince, releasing more of my power. Slowly. Feeding the barrier that surrounds the fae lands, protecting our people from the iron demons, until the pressure slowly eases.

My heart thumps wildly, and I see all the fae princes are holding their heads. We all stand straighter, exchanging glances. Once we have our queens, the magic that comes from the bond will help fuel our own, and the headaches and pain will ease. At least, a bit. It's one of the many reasons for finding our queens.

When we were children, our parents helped feed their magic to keep the boundary strong. But once we hit eighteen, it was our responsibility alone. And when we reached twenty-one, they retired to the nicest lands in their courts and left all the responsibility to us, even without us having all the power.

That's the way of the fae.

"We need our queens," Zane whispers.

Forrest nods, rubbing his head one more time before dropping his hand. "Perhaps."

Looking at the time, my blood runs cold. She needs to come. She has to arrive. I need an arrangement, not a real mate. Where the fuck is she?

Maybe I should go drag her here.

My jaw tightens, but I push the thought aside. I want a willing wife. That's what this is all about. A willing wife who will act as a partner. If she doesn't come on her own, then what's the point?

But just the thought of the magic choosing a mate for me makes my stomach turn.

I reach for another drink and pause as a flash of gold catches my eye. My gaze zeroes in on it, and I strain my neck to make out the source of the color. Then I freeze.

Cassia. She came. And she looks… incredible .

She stands on the stairs leading down to the dance floor. Her hand rests on the railing, the bracelet I gave her dangling from her arm. The amber glistens from her neck and wrist, but it's nothing compared to the woman herself. She looks like sin in flesh form. I might have found her beautiful in her maid's uniform, but the outfit should be burned now that I see her in all her glory. The dress hugs her large breasts and tiny waist, sliding off her perfect hips. When I saw the slit in the dress, I hadn't imagined what it'd look like on her, but seeing her leg now, peeking from the slit, makes it hard to breathe.

Is this a mistake?

I rub my face, overwhelmed. I promised her a marriage of convenience, but how can I follow through with such a promise when I can't even handle seeing her in a dress? Heat rolls through my body, and my dick hardens. I think of her in my bathroom, the way she lingered. The way she seemed to want to see me undressed.

Is that what she wanted? Would she want more than this arrangement ?

I reach for the potion in my pocket as she slowly makes her way down the stairs. Marrying her is supposed to solve all my problems, not create them. And the way my thoughts are going now… that's pure trouble.

My feet start moving before I can stop them. I'll go to her. I'll take her in my arms, just like we planned, and I'll forget the strange ache inside of me that promises nothing but heartbreak and pain. And if ever my thoughts stray from the plan, I'll remember my mother the day I found her, covered in her own blood, a dagger in her hands, life gone from her eyes, because it was her only escape from the cruel Summer King.

I will not be my father.