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As I enter, people notice me and duck their heads in small bows of greeting. No one smiles.

I’m not loved here. I already know that. The subjects are unsure of me, and they have good reason to be. My kind of magic is not to be trusted.

I stick out like a sore thumb.

I’m surrounded by these perfect, white-blond haired, pointy-eared Fae, but my appearance is the opposite. While I might have half Fae blood running through my veins, I got my looks from my mother’s side. My dark hair and eyes mean I stand out as someone—something—different. There are a few others dotted between the Fae who don’t have the classic Fae appearance, but they’re only there because they have some Fae blood in them. Non-Fae aren’t allowed in the castle at all. Even the servants, like the girl I’ve just left, will have some Fae blood, though they’re more likely to be the offspring of some lesser mortal like a human.

My heritage is something my father has never let me forget. I’m his only offspring, but often I think he’d prefer if he hadn’t sired anyone at all. He’s ashamed of me—ashamed of how I look, of how I act, of how my magic works. Perhaps a lesser man would embody his shame and hide himself away, but I refuse to give him that satisfaction.

I take my new place, standing at the king’s left-hand side, one pace back from the throne. The empty seat beside the king’s throne mocks me.

A hush falls over the crowd.

A horn sounds, and a voice rings out.

“Introducing King Themaris, first king of his name andruler of the lands of Askos, and Queen Lorith, Princess of the lands of Torremora.”

My father sweeps into the Great Hall. He still wears his riding cloak, which billows around him as he walks. One of his staff moves forward to unclip the clasp from around his throat and quickly whisks it away, all without my father having to break his stride.

I’d imagined he’d have come in with his new bride on his arm, but, as is usual with my father, he has her walking several steps in his wake. His large form hides her from me, but I’m eager to get a look at the new queen, the woman who will technically be my stepmother.

I smirk at the thought. I’ve never had anyone in my life in a mothering role before. After I was born, my father took me from my mother’s arms and banished her from the kingdom. The only reason I know she was Incubi is because her genes were clearly stronger than my father’s. I’m sure if I’d been born looking like him, and with more Fae magic than Incubi, he’d never have revealed to me—or anyone else—what makes up the other half of my parentage.

The king reaches the platform and steps up to his throne. The motion removes him from my line of sight and reveals the person a few steps behind him.

The sight of my father’s bride-to-be snatches the breath from my lungs.

She’s older than I am, but still nowhere near as old as the king.

She is beautiful. Waist length, white-blonde hair, cat-shaped pale blue eyes, skin like marble. Her fingers are long and elegant, her wrists narrow. In the tight corset,her breasts practically spill out, and her iridescent wings lightly pulse the air behind her.

There’s no doubt that Queen Lorith is full-blooded Fae. It isn’t only in her appearance, but in the way she holds herself, her shoulders back, her chin held high. The air around her vibrates with magic. It’s no wonder my father decided to take her as his bride.

What the fuck is a beauty like her doing marrying an old man like him?

My father reaches his throne, and, without sitting, turns to face the room. He is mere feet from me—so close I could reach out and touch him—but he doesn’t even make eye contact with me. I wonder what the hell I’m doing here, when I could still be balls deep inside a naked woman.

He reaches out and clasps his new bride by the arm and guides her to stand in front of what is now her throne. I try not to taste the bitterness of being replaced on my tongue and fail.

Whoops and cheers come from the crowds, filling the air in a deafening roar, but my father lifts his hand to silence them.

“Thank you, all, for giving us such a warm welcome home. Tonight, we will feast and drink, and dance and sing to celebrate this union, and your new queen.”

Cheers erupt again.

I clench my fists and grind my teeth as cold anger and jealousy wrap around my heart.

I plan to get my father on his own as soon as possible. I have questions.

No sooner have the king and queen arrived, they leave again. My father never even acknowledges me.

So much for wanting me here.

My father has living quarters that are completely separate from the new queen’s. I don’t understand it myself. If I had a woman like that at my disposal, I’d have her permanently in my bed. I’d want her bathing in my clawfoot tub, the scent of her in the air. I’d want her standing naked as she chooses her clothes in the morning, and naked again as she discards them last thing at night. I’d want to watch her brush her silver-white hair in the mirror and hold her eye in the glass. But my father probably doesn’t want her presence interrupting his nightly visits from the whores he loves so much—whores like my mother had been. The women he holds with such disdain yet also can’t get enough of.

I wait until the Great Hall has cleared out, and then make my way through the castle to my father’s quarters. The only way to reach his tower is across the sky bridge. It’s not really a bridge, as such—more a suspended corridor. It’s designed so only a couple of people can reach the King’s Tower at a time. If we were ever to be invaded, it would allow his men to defend him no matter how many people were in the invading party.

I hope Cirrus Planetree won’t be stationed outside the door, but it’s a possibility. He’ll have been given instructions to keep me away.