Chapter 29

Damion had sent my guards away when he'd come to find me, so as I stand from the bench-the exhaustion of the long tour around the castle finally catching up to me-he offers to walk me back to my rooms.

I must look as drained as I feel because, with gentle hands, Damion reaches down to loop my arm through his so that I'm able to lean into him as we walk. He takes my weight as if it's nothing. Still wrapped in his overcoat and now leaning into him the way that I am, with the warmth of his body seeping into my side it's a little overwhelming.

A blush heats its way into my cheeks as we make our way back through the winding garden paths. I should probably protest-say that I can manage on my own-but I don't. I just let myself lean on him, and revel a little in the way that he's taking off the strain of walking for me.

"Now it's your turn, Princess."

I blink up at him, "What do you mean?" He's so much taller than me that I have to crane my neck to see his face from this angle.

His eyes are back to their usual black as he meets my eyes, a sudden seriousness there, "It's your turn to answer questions."

I don't know why a cloud of nervous butterflies takes off in my stomach at the prospect, "What do you want to know?"

"Why were you with a group of Unseelie?" His eyes flicker down to where I know the bruise on my face is still slightly visible even after Healer Orm's treatments.

I clear my throat awkwardly, tilting my face back in front of us where we're stepping back into the cavernous opening to the castle's tunnels. Turning my head, I allowed one last peek behind us, bidding the sunshine goodbye for now, promising myself that I'd come back out to these gardens as soon as I could.

The feel of Damion's eyes on the side of my face is a palpable thing as I admit, "The day before you found me, my father informed me that he had made a deal with the King of the Unseelie. Part of that deal was that I would be required to marry one of the Unseelie princes."

"You *what*?" The question rips from his throat, voice steeped with black fury. When I'm leaning up against his body, I feel his muscles go rigid against mine. His footsteps through the witch-light steeped tunnels slow to a stop and he turns down to look at me. His eyes flash with a shade of deep amber, glowing dimly.

I watch these sudden changes in him, glancing up at him, startled, unsure where this strong reaction is coming from. I don't believe his anger is directed at *me*, but I take care with my words, regardless, "I wasn't aware of what was happening until I was told to pack my things. Lucia did everything she could to convince him otherwise but it wasn't any use. I was too stunned at the time to argue with his decision, but now I regret not trying harder to change his mind."

As I speak, the amber in his eyes loses a bit of its blazing intensity, but the muscles in his jaw are still clenched so tightly that I can see the muscles working. His voice is a low growl as he says, "It's common knowledge throughout the entire continent that the Unseelie court is unhinged and brutal. Especially to those who marry into it. So what I can't grasp is why the fuck your father sent you to *them*."

It settles on me then that this massive, terrifying male is angry *on my behalf*. Furious, even. I'm jolted by the notion that he could care enough about what happens to me, to worry about what marrying into the Unseelie Court would have meant in my situation.

Unbidden, my father's cold words from that day echo through my head.

*You're a liability, Liliana. 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.*

Thankfully, the memory of those words doesn't sting as much as it had the day he said them. But they still prickle enough that I'm not sure that I want to share all the gritty details with the male crowding over me.

Unable to force myself to meet his eyes, I fidget with the hem of his overcoat, twisting it between my fingers, "After everything with the abduction, my father thought it would be best for the Seelie Court to remove the even the possibility of me being ransomed against him a second time."

He scrubs one of his large scarred hands over his face, "Let me get this straight," he growls, "After your time here, your father concluded that the best course of action would be to send you to your certain death with the Unseelie?"

I grimace, chewing uncomfortably on the inside of my cheek, "That's the abbreviated version, yes."

He looks like he's about to say something else, but instead, he simply collects my arm again, depositing it in the crook of his own, muscles still tensed where I lean against him. He continues leading me down the tunneled hallway, his pace is a bit more brisk than it was before. He catches himself a few times and forces himself to slow to a more manageable pace for me.

He's caught up in his thoughts and neither of us says anything until we find ourselves standing outside what can only be the door to my assigned room.

I finally break the tense silence, and look around pointedly before asking, "What, no guards?" My tone is teasing, but a part of me is honestly curious about the lack of anyone hovering around the halls to make sure I stay in my rooms. Even at home, there was always someone hovering nearby-Petra or a slew of guards, though usually both.

The set of Damion's shoulders is still tense, but my question sent his mouth flicking up the tiniest bit at the corner, "There's no need for guards down here."

"Really? You're not worried I'm going to try to run off?"

That flicker of a smile shifts to a full-fledged smirk, "It would be a waste of resources to have someone constantly stationed outside your door. At least when you consider that I'd be able to hear any attempts of escape from my room." As he speaks, he points to the door a few feet up from mine. Waves of incredulity course through me and I gape up at him.

"*That's* your room?" I ask him, my voice coming out a little more high-pitched than normal with my shock. My eyes narrow suspiciously, "Is this one of those 'keep your enemies close' things?"

There's no denying the amusement flashing across his expression as his sharp chin cocks to the side and his eyes skate over my face, watching the play of emotions with rapt attention, "Is that what you are now? Enemies?"

I bite my lip, fighting down a smile of my own, "I don't know. You're the one who kidnapped me, so why don't *you* tell *me*."

Despite his earlier teasing, his voice is serious as he admits, "I'm not your enemy, princess. Far from it."