Page 14 of Marked By the Enemy
My thoughts froze, bewildered. “Was Prince Darian already bonded?”
“No. It chose the two of you. You may have been bound by accident or ambition.”
I didn’t want to ask him. I didn’t want to seem weak. I certainly didn’t trust him, but I couldn’t help myself. “Have you seen others who the bond chose?”
“No. Only those who chose the bond.”
“Why would anyone want to choose the bond?”
“We fae like magic. Bond magic is the strongest. Glamor magic is nothing but egotistical. The bond chose you.”
“You say you haven’t witnessed the bond choose anyone else?”
“That’s right.”
I chewed the inside of my lip, acting innocent. “Is it in the history books?”
His smile froze, and his eyes flashed ultraviolet for a second. “No.”
I gave a slight nod and pretended not to dwell on his response, moving on to the next question quickly. “You said it was rare, so I thought you had read about it.”
“Oh no. There are some tales. None of them are written.”
“Well, the bond chose me.”
“Yes. And you’re holding the bond like a blade. Just remember—blades cut both ways.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s a warning.”
I folded my arms. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Darian listens to you. And because the bond listens more.”
I studied him. “Do you want me to influence the prince?”
“Influence isn’t the goal. Balanceis.”
“Same thing.”
He looked toward the sky. “There will come a moment when you can choose to burn everything down—or keep it standing.”
“You think I’ll burn it.”
“I think you already have a match in hand.”
He stepped away before I could answer.
“Enjoy your day, Consort.”
He vanished down a side corridor, robes trailing like mist.
When I returned to my chambers, the fire was already lit. The table had been cleared. A new tunic waited on the chair. Pale gray. Embroidered only at the cuffs.
Darian sat in the corner near the balcony, hands clasped between his knees.
I shut the door.
