And now that something romantic was making its way through Othian, ready to find my betrothed and bring her back to me.
Honestly, I’d been shocked my father had agreed to the idea, and the ease with which he’d granted my request still made my stomach churn a bit.
He probably thought he was still punishing me somehow. Even though his plans had gone awry, and I’d actually found a woman I was more than eager to bind myself to, he surely thought he’d won in the end.
She was human, after all.
Her life would be a blink in my existence, but if I loved her, the sting of her loss would last much longer.
But even fae died.
My brother’s face flashed before my memory, and I shut it out.
When my mother and father left the table, I stayed, mostly because it irritated my father when I postponed my princely duties by extending mealtimes. Indeed, he scowled at me as he dismissed himself, but my mother touched my hand absentmindedly on her way out.
Not moments after they departed, a breathy, labored voice shook through the hall. “Your Majesty, Your Highness.”
I waved him in. “It’s just me, Orvall.”
The courier looked relieved not to be facing my father, but he didn’t enter. Instead, he plastered an unconvincing grin on his face.
“We have located the prince’s betrothed.”
CHAPTER 4
ELLIE
The doors to the king’s breakfasting room were plated with silver, etched with intricate patterns from which I soon had to avert my eyes, lest my vision double.
I hardly heard the courier announce my presence as he poked his head into the breakfasting chambers, presumably speaking to the royal family. My ears were still buzzing from the absurdity of his claim—that I, Ellie Payne, had somehow unwittingly betrothed myself to the Prince of Dwellen.
Someone inside the breakfasting room coughed. A moment later, the sound of a chair scraping across the floor screeched in my ears.
“We present the Crown Prince’s Betrothed.” The courier coughed slightly as his voice gave out toward the end, and the doors swung open.
I had always thought our house ornate, furnished with every luxury a human might desire, all funded by my father’s thriving business.
That, apparently, was not the case.
Or perhaps there lay a chasm between every luxury a human might desire and every luxury fae royalty might desire.
The walls were painted blue, just like our breakfasting room—it was the current fashion, after all. But instead of my mother’s hand-painted cherubs, silver leaf textured the walls, swirling and pivoting until they formed the scene of a great battle, a host of winged fae swooping from the clouds, reaping judgment upon the humans below.
It was as terrifying as it was breathtaking.
When the prince heard the courier’s announcement that not only had they found his betrothed, but that she was here, the prince seemed to freeze. “My love,” he said, gaining momentum and craning his neck to get a glimpse of me over the courier’s shoulder. “You asked for something roman—”
I stepped out from behind the courier.
The prince’s jaw dropped as he caught sight of me. Me, who probably looked like a hot mess as I’d only done the minimum to get ready this morning for our guests, who I had had no idea would present me to the Crown Prince of Dwellen. As his betrothed. I might have laughed at the ridiculous sight of Prince Evander fumbling to reclaim a calm expression as he took in the sight of me.
Me. Not whomever he had danced the night away with last night.
“Who is this?” He glared at the courier, clearly still in shock. “I told you to bring me Cinderella.”
I barely stifled a scoff, and only managed to do so by clearing my throat. Cinderella? What kind of a name was Cinderella?
A thief’s name, I supposed.
Perhaps thieves donned stage names, much like courtesans.
“This, Your Highness, is your Betrothed. The one whose foot the glass slipper fit.” The courier could have audibly sighed his voice sounded so defeated. As unpleasant as the faerie was, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. How many other pointless tasks had Prince Evander sent him on?
“I have a name, you know,” I said. “Not that you need bother to remember it, as I’ll be leaving shortly. But you may address me as either Miss Payne or Ellie during our exchange.”
“Our exchange?” The prince’s eyebrows narrowed as his gaze settled on the glass slipper, which now clung to my sweaty palms. “By Alondria, Orvall. Could you please explain to me why you’ve brought me a petty swindler while I’ve been agonizing over my lost love?”
I might have been offended, had I not been too busy snorting. “Your lost love? Really? Because I heard she fled the premises.”
The prince gritted his teeth.
“I wouldn’t do that too often if I were you,” I said. “Detracts from the pretty face.” It was true. When it came to his reputation with women, the prince had clearly been assisted by his looks. His sea-green eyes gleamed, contrasting with his tanned skin, which almost seemed to blend in with his coppery-brown hair. Pointed ears poked through his slightly shaggy haircut, which, from all I knew about the King of Dwellen, I was sure his father detested. To top it all off, he somehow pulled off possessing a muscular build on a lean frame, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some fae glamour at work here.
No one looked that good.
“Orvall, retrieve the slipper from this human and see her out,” the prince seethed.
I gripped the slipper tighter, but neither the courier nor the guards made a move for it.
