Page 8 of A Darkness So Sweet

Breathing hard, Maia licked her lips and tried to sound like the brave person they wanted her to be. “I can be, your highness. Although, I will admit, your daughter does not know me.”

“She sees into souls,” he replied. He glared at her as though her performance had been lacking. “She sees deep into the hearts and minds of those who stand before her. If she says you are brave, then you are.”

Was that what the ice cold sensation had been? Maia had thought the woman was controlling her like a puppet master, reaching into her mind and forcing her actions. Perhaps the princess was skilled at both talents. Neither of which would be surprising, considering the amount of elven blood that ran through her veins.

“I...” What did he want to hear? What could she say that would convince him to leave her alone? “I suppose I have not had many opportunities to be brave.”

Of course she had. She had spent her entire life keeping her mouth shut when men like this one threatened her. She had stood by her father when he’d gotten sick, learned every part of their business, broke her back day in and day out in the gardens and then prettied herself up for the customers in the afternoon. Maia had been brave every single moment of her life, but this man made her feel as though none of it had been all that impressive.

The anger in his gaze softened. “My dear, sweet girl. You are going to be braver today than you have ever been. You will be there when the trolls arrive. You will greet them. You will be the person they see before all others. In that moment, you will have to be brave.”

“What do you mean I willgreetthem?”

But then he flipped the veil back down, placed his hand on her back, and shoved her forward. Suddenly thrown out into the light, she could do nothing other than walk where he drew her.

There were more shadows. All of them moving and bobbing in front of her. Almost as though there was a crowd surrounding the two of them. Then sound hit her. The murmurs of people, hundreds of them, all standing in this room.

Were they already at the wedding? Maia tried to straighten her spine a little more, making sure she wasn’t slumped over beside the glowing beacon of the princess.

The king’s booming voice silenced them all. “My people! It is a great honor to have you all here. I beg you all to steel your hearts and your minds, for it is now that the trolls will enter.”

She tried not to tremble, but it was hard not to in the sudden silence that filled the room. And she couldn’t see anything at all. Not a single thing through the damn veil, but they had said she would be the person to greet the trolls, which made little sense.

That twisted feeling in her gut grew worse. She thought she might vomit. Something was terribly wrong.

Maia turned to leave, only to find that heavy hand at her back again. Not just a hand. Something sharp pressed against her spine, right between her ribs, with its tip against her hammering heart.

“Do not move a muscle,” the king growled into her ear. The threat made her freeze even more, like ice had filled her veins.

That was when she heard them. The whooping cries, the animalistic snarls, nightmarish noises filled the room with their haunting song.

The trolls had arrived.

ChapterFour

RAGNAR

Trolls scattered around him. They all lunged in different directions, their chests bare and their tusks on full display. Ragnar and his brother strode through them, hearing the calls of “Troll wife” in their language.

The humans called it the black tongue. They were so afraid of what the trolls were saying in their deep voices and their chanting calls, they assumed it was dark magic that would threaten their lives. Or perhaps steal their souls right out of their bodies. The humans feared everything the trolls did, though. They feared his people for just existing.

The air in the castle was thick with smoke. It coiled out of sconces on the walls and made it hard to breathe. Black smudges darkened the walls. Not to mention the ever present scent of body odor that clung to these people. They tried to hide it with perfumes and bundles of herbs they wore around their necks, but he could smell it.

He bared his teeth, flashing tusks at women who fainted at the sight of him. One of them, who wore a bright yellow dress that puffed up around her body like some kind of crazed flower, toppled right into the man behind her. He caught her for a moment, only to freeze when Ragnar caught his gaze. The man released his hold on the woman and allowed her to fall onto the floor with a hard thud.

It was hard to hear over the chanting calls of his people, but he did. Humans weren’t even capable of protecting their own kind. How was he to endure one as a wife?

Gunnar grinned as they made their way up to the podium where King James stood. Ragnar had never met the human king, but he knew what the man looked like. Silver hair. Angry eyes. A crown on top of his head that had been poured out of gold stolen from his own people. Not to mention the gemstones on it that had been set by troll hands.

Beside him stood a smaller figure. She wore the customary white that he had been warned she’d be in, but her face was covered by a veil.

It was strange. He’d figured his bride would be tall and willowy, and had expected the lithe body of a nearly half elven woman. Instead, the woman he saw was rather broad shouldered. She had strong arms revealed by the dress she wore. Her biceps were remarkably defined for a woman of her lineage, and he had to wonder what had given a princess arms like that. Although, he supposed, he knew very little about her people.

The veil rustled with her breath. In and out, a little too fast. There was the fear he had expected. The terror that he was going to eat her alive.

Some part of him found a thrill in that. She should fear him. He was massive in comparison to her, strong arms or not. The king barely came up to his shoulders, and this woman only came up to his chest. She should tremble knowing that it would take so very little for him to snap her neck or rip her head clean off her shoulders if he wished.

He did not, though. Because his own king would be livid if he killed the princess that was supposed to end all this fighting. At least for now. Perhaps someday King Egil would give him leave to rid himself of her shackles.

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