Page 12 of Crown of Briars
“Father, the fae cannot lie,” I said without thinking.
Father’s eyes flashed as he cut a glare at me. “Be silent, daughter,” he growled.
My mouth clamped shut, and I bowed my head in submission, but Clermont only chuckled.
“She is correct,” he said. “I cannot lie to you. Rest assured, my king would be here if he could. He would not have sent me in his place if the matter were not urgent. Your daughter is needed as soon as possible.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Why?” As far as I knew, the Wraith King demanded a human bride every generation as a show ofgood faith between our kingdoms. In exchange, he kept his shadows from invading our kingdom. But perhaps there was more to it than that. Perhaps there was another reason he required a human princess.
“Sybelle,” Father ground out, gripping my arm tightly enough to bruise.
“If I am to be handed off to this stranger, I deserve to know why!” I said, my temper flaring.
“The king will explain more to you once you arrive,” Clermont assured me. His gaze shifted to my father, then back to me. I wondered if the Wraith King had forbidden him to give more information before taking me.
Or perhaps he didn’t trust my father with the entire truth. I couldn’t exactly blame him.
“Please gather what you need for the journey,” Clermont said, his gentle and soothing voice in contrast to his reptilian appearance. “But I have been instructed not to return without you.” He stood straighter, arms behind his back, as if to show he would not be moved until I joined him in the carriage.
A tense silence fell between us. I could practically smell the fumes of rage seeping from my father. His grip on my arm tightened.
“Our agreement was for the king himself to come and claim his bride,” Father said tightly.
“Actually,” Clermont said, withdrawing a worn scroll from his breast coat pocket, “I have the contract right here. It says nothing of the Wraith King coming himself. It only says the Earthen Court supplies its eldest daughter to wed him upon his request.”
Father’s lips became so thin they almost disappeared into his face. “May I inspect the document, please?”
“Of course.” Clermont extended the scroll. A soldier took it and brought it to my father, who immediately opened it andbegan reading. “Please be aware that is a replica of the original agreement, which is in the care of my king.”
Father huffed, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of annoyance or frustration. Was he hoping it was the original document? I would have been tempted to try to burn the contract if it had been in my hands. I wondered if Father was thinking the same thing.
The shadows are almost here,I reminded myself. Without this contract, we had no way of protecting our kingdom.
Grumbling under his breath, Father rolled up the scroll and handed it back to the soldier. “Regardless of the terms,” he said, “this is highly improper.”
“I understand, and I apologize again. But it is essential the princess come with me, per the terms of our bargain.”
More silence fell. Sweat beaded along my brow. Part of me wanted to bolt—to flee from the scene and escape with my freedom—while the other part wanted to stride confidently toward the carriage to accept my fate.
When Father continued to say nothing, I inhaled deeply and turned to look at him. “We have prepared for this, Father. I am ready.”
He fixed a stony look at me, his expression unreadable. A muscle worked in his jaw, and his nostrils flared. After a long moment, he nodded tersely, then snapped at a nearby soldier. “Send for the Lady Sybelle’s things at once.”
The soldier bowed and scurried away. I watched him leave, then tensed when my father’s arms came around me. The motion was stiff and unfeeling. I wasn’t sure if he had ever held me in my entire life.
But it was only for show. When I was pulled to his chest, he whispered in my ear, “Do not forget your purpose, daughter. My men know to pack your daggers with your belongings. I trust you will not fail me.”
When he withdrew, he plastered a warm smile on his facethat did not reach his beady black eyes. His gaze flashed with a warning—and a threat—as he released me.
I curtsied to him. “Farewell, Father.” I was only able to nod at my sister. My nerves were too tightly wound to manage a proper goodbye. It was already taking all my effort to remain upright.
Orla’s expression was cold and unfeeling as she surveyed me with cool detachment, as if these proceedings meant nothing to her. She almost seemed bored.
Each step toward the carriage seemed to take an eternity. More sweat slid down my neck and between my shoulder blades. I fixed my gaze on the billowing shadows that drifted behind the carriage like a cape flapping in the wind. My brow furrowed.
“Are those dangerous?” I pointed to the shadows.
I heard my father swear softly behind me, but Clermont followed my gesture with curious interest.
