Chapter 17

My father is waiting for us in the throne room.

With help from the guards, Lucia and Petra were able to get me back to my room from the stables in a pretty decent time. I'm more exhausted from riding than I thought I would be. Fatigue makes me unsteady on my feet as Petra cleans the dirt and dust I accumulated from riding off of my skin. Lucia rummages through my closet and chooses a teal-colored day dress for me to wear while Petra rushes to twist my hair into something presentable, her mouth in a tight line.

I know there's not any real reason to be nervous about meeting with my father, but that doesn't stop my stomach from doing backflips and doesn't stop the nervous trickle of sweat from dripping down my spine beneath my dress. I can't remember the last time my father asked to meet with me like this, and the more time that passes, the more on edge I feel. We make good time as Petra and Lucia practically drag my faltering body across the palace. I'm flushed with exhaustion by the time the guards open the doors to let us into where my father waits for us.

It's been a couple of months since I've been in this part of the palace, but it's exactly as I remember it. Objectively, the throne room is beautiful-regal and imposing--but it's a soulless sort of beauty that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. It's as stately and formidable as one would expect from a throne room, composed of high, opulent ceilings and rows of red lacquered pillars.

The east wall is made up entirely of intricate stained glass, and the light that bleeds through soaks the floor with an eerie crimson glow. It gives the appearance of splashed blood, lending the room a sinister aura I can never quite shake off. My hands are damp with anxiety-ridden sweat, even now, as Lucia and Petra help me across the long narrow room to where my father lounges on his throne.

The King of the Seelie Court, Tarquin Montegard, raises thick eyebrows at me as I manage a somewhat steady curtsey. My father's hair is the same golden hue as Lucia's and those familiar waves cut off right at his shoulders. Despite their physical similarities, my father and Lucia couldn't be more different. His green eyes-a darker shade than my sister's, resembling the shade of deep summer rather than Lucia's light spring-stare down at me with a coldness that chills me to my bones.

With a flick of his wrist, he gestures for Petra to leave us and she does with hurried footsteps. The door clangs shut behind her, leaving the room painfully empty except for my father, Lucia, and me.

"Liliana." He says, flatly.

"Your Majesty," I respond. My mouth feels suddenly dry. I lick my lips, keeping my eyes on the floor before the throne, idly tracing the patterns in the tile with my eyes, willing my heartbeat to settle.

"I'm told that you were returned from the northern mountains without injury." He says.

"Yes, sir."

He hums low under his breath, eyes dragging over me assessingly for a torturously long moment. Whatever he sees there he finds lacking, and his lip curls with a barely suppressed sneer, "Liliana, I don't have time for idle chit-chat, so I will cut right to the reason I called you here."

My heart continues its painful battering against my ribs, "Yes, father."

"You're to be married."

A numbness overtakes me and it's a struggle to keep myself upright with my knees trembling the way that they are.

"The deal has already been struck. The council has signed off on it and we have concluded setting terms with the Unseelie last night. You're to leave for their courts in the morning with a retinue of their soldiers."

Behind me, Lucia sucks in a sharp horrified breath, but I can barely hear it over the deafening pulse of my heartbeat drowning out everything else around me.

"You're a liability, Liliana." His words slice through me as sharp and painful as knives. His words are something I've always suspected, but that doesn't stop them from slicing achingly deep. "You've already cost us too much. We have the future of the Seelie to consider and we can't keep our focus on building the kingdom if our progress is continuously stalled by threats to the crown."

*Don't cry. Don't even think about crying, Lily. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.* I chant in my head, forcing back the prickling heat where it's building behind my eyes.

"Father," Lucia says, "it wasn't Lily the shifters thought they were capturing. They believed they had taken *me*. Outside of our Court, Lily's existence isn't common knowledge. There's not enough information circulating about her for her to be in danger again. It was an occurrence that is unlikely to happen again."

"If it was you they had targeted, instead of your sister, this never would have happened. You hold the necessary magic to ensure that their attempts never have come to fruition, Lucia," our father's smooth face twists into a sneer, "But because they took *Liliana*, it makes us appear weak. There is no longer any room for weakness here. The crown is only as strong as its weakest member."

"But-" Lucia starts, but her protests are immediately cut off by the man lounging in front of us.

"Each of us has a duty, Lucia. It is time for Liliana to fulfill hers." There is a deep, ringing finality to his words and a rock settles into place in my chest, "You are both dismissed."

In a haze, I turn to make my way to the door. My thoughts are swirling so much that I don't notice that Lucia's stayed behind until the guards open the door to lead me out of the room. I can just make out her panicked voice as it drifts to where I stand by the room's double doors, "Father, you can't do this."

"Remember your place child," his voice is tinged with impatience now, "That is not up for you to decide."

"The Unseelie will eat her alive. You know that as well as I do."

"With her*illness*, her days have always been numbered. At least now her death will have meaning." My father says, voice sharp as a knife.

I don't wait to hear any more. I don't think I can take hearing anything else. I numbly continue out of the room to where Petra stands waiting for me, my father's words ringing in my ears.

*At least now her death will have meaning.*