Chapter 18

It isn't until a few hours after I leave the throne room behind that the pervading numbness wears off and the reality of my situation finally begins to sink in.

*Married*.

My father sold me off to be married to one of the Unseelie princes.

As a part of my education growing up, I'd been taught as much as possible about the other fae court to the east. Throughout the history books, we'd been at war countless times, clashing over some issue or other. It wasn't until the fae war against the shifters and elves that our conflicting courts had agreed to peace with each other to fight against those of the north neighbors in a grab for land and power. Our joining of forces was the only reason we had survived the war.

Married to an Unseelie.

The Unseelie King is old enough to be my father's father, and his sons-all of the Unseelie princes-are older than my father and are known to have a penchant for cruelty. The majority of their wives *disappear* within a century of marriage. My sister had stayed with me throughout the night, raging and pacing around my rooms enough for the both of us. The angrier she gets, the more resigned I become, folding into myself more and more. Lucia hadn't been wrong in saying that this marriage would be a death sentence. I turn over my brain in search of some solution that I must have missed. A way out of this contract my father sprung out of nowhere.

If I'd known two weeks ago that being set free from the shifters would result in this, I wouldn't have pushed so hard to go home. In all honesty, I'd thought more of my week with the shifters since I'd been home than I probably should have. Laying in bed at night, Damien Lothbrook's words resurface again and again, unbidden. That last night when he'd stared at me with those shifting eyes that saw way too much and said-

*"I'm just considering what sort of life you must lead in that palace of yours if you feel the need to thank me for basic decency."*

As much as I wish it wasn't true, I can't change the fact that my time in the mountains changed something in me. It altered the way I see things for better or worse. Because while I may have been a prisoner to them, they'd unintentionally granted me a tiny inkling of what it would be like to be treated as someone who wasn't *cursed* or *powerless*. Seen as someone different than how I'm viewed here by the fae--being colorless, wingless, and without magic.

During my time as a prisoner there, I caught a tiny glimmer of what it would be like to be someone else and it was like a door had been creaked open, letting in a sliver of light. And no matter how hard I try, I can't close that door back to how it was before. I guess sometimes, being viewed as an enemy is better than being seen as inferior. Enemies, at least, have the potential to be respected. Even if it's in a strange, twisted way.

As my thoughts stray to my time with the shifters, I can't help but remember my father's words from earlier.

"*You've already cost us too much*."

I turn to where my sister is still pacing about the room.

"What was it that the shifters asked for in exchange for me?" I ask her, suddenly.

The sound of my voice shocks her from her pacing, "What do you mean?"

"What was their price for returning me home?"

She blinks to clear her thoughts, slim arms folding across her chest, "They wanted the father to cease a project he'd begun at the edge of the northern mountain range."

I feel my eyebrows furrow together in confusion, "What sort of project?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she admits, "but I believe it had something to do with mining, though. Why?"

"No reason." She doesn't appear to believe me but doesn't press the issue.

I chew over the idea of what sort of mining project the shifters would resort to holding a hostage over to stop, but come up blank.

In the brief moments, I'm alone, I sneak the books from my time with the shifters into the bottom of my trunk. I've considered telling Lucia about my experience there-about the earthstorm and my conversation with their King-almost a hundred times, but for some reason I never do. It feels like something I'm not sure that I'll be able to fully explain to her-something I don't even fully understand myself. So I keep those things inside, twisting them over in my mind on the nights I can't sleep, waiting for answers that never come.

The next morning, a small envoy from the Unseelie Court waits for me in the courtyard. It's early enough that the sun still hasn't crested the east mountain range yet.

I'd still been awake when Petra came to help me dress while a handful of servants brought out the meager possessions I'd been allowed to pack. Lucia eyes me in the mirror as I drink down an extra dose of my medicine. It's a precarious attempt to stave off the fever I can feel cropping up after having unintentionally pushed myself to the point of burnout yesterday. In the mirror, I catch the worried lines around her eyes, and the concerned thinning of her lips as she watches me, but keeps any thoughts to herself.

Lucia and I had to say our goodbyes in my room so we didn't have to have an audience. As Petra helps me dress, my sister gives up her angry pacing to recite some of the Unseelie customs that are different than our own. Most of them I remember from my lessons. Alfie whines low in his throat as I wrap my arms around his furry neck to bid him goodbye. I don't think the Unseelie will take well to me bringing a fox into their palace and I won't risk them hurting him. Lucia promises to look after him for me.

Waiting for me in the courtyard is the Unseelie representative sent ahead by their king to bring me back to their courts. He is a hulking man with deep green skin who introduces himself as Pieter. His eyes are completely black--like two pits embedded in the bone. There's something about the way he looks over me-equal parts lecherous and abhorred-that turns my stomach acidic. The Seelie guards finish loading my single trunk onto the back of the carriage much too quickly, and suddenly it's time to leave.

I'm shocked when Lucia yanks me in for one last tight hug, leaning down to whisper against my ear in a rush, "Don't give up, Lily. Swear to me that you're not going to give up. You're going to make it through this. I'll come to see you as soon as I'm able to."

While she has me close, I feel her tuck something into the pocket of my traveling cloak. As she pulls back from her embrace I open my mouth to respond but am interrupted by an abrasive voice behind us, "It's time to go," Pieter, the Ambassador, grunts out. From the corner of my eye, I see him heave his massive body into the saddle of his horse.

My father, who had been conversing with one of his advisors from the moment I'd come outside, finally looks my way as I step up to the waiting carriage. I meet his gaze, unable to help but search for some semblance of remorse or warmth in his green eyes, but there's only the same coldness as yesterday. He doesn't reach out to hug me, keeping his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he says, "Don't forget your duty, Liliana."

"I haven't forgotten," I say.

I couldn't forget it no matter how much I may want to.

A sense of finality settles over me as the carriage door is shut behind me. I swallow down the sense of foreboding, staring out the window to where Lucia still stands. The carriage jostles forward, leaving the Seelie Court behind. As the palace disappears from view, I reach into my pocket, curious as to what my sister had slipped in there.

Tucked in a bundle of velvet she had placed in my pocket is a dagger.