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We’re interrupted by the clomping of hooves. A soldier holds the reins of two sleek black steeds. “Your mounts,” he announces.

“We’re ridinghorses?” I say.

The horse closest to me bumps its head into my shoulder, snuffling my hair.

“Do you have an objection?” Des asks.

I look at the beast again, feeling the siren beginning to fade away. Apparently, no sex and no violence means no service.

It’s an unusual task, trying to keep her visible; I’m so used to repressing her whenever I can. I wrestle with my strange power, finally managing to wrangle her.

“It’s fine,” I say.

With that, Des grabs my waist and helps me mount my steed. I wait for it to nervously nicker, but it never happens. Either these are exceptionally well-trained horses, or Otherworld steeds are made of sturdier stuff.

Next to me, Des smoothly swings himself onto his own mount, and the rest of Desmond’s closest men do so as well.

Our horses trot back into line, moving into some sort of formation. I glance behind me, catching sight of Temper astride another horse. The dress she wears is a deep burgundy color.

Looks like she found one of her new outfits.

Malaki moves over to her on his own steed, and the look he gives her…good God, he’s already smitten.

Someone whistles, and the musicians in our procession begin playing their instruments, the sound soft and ethereal.

I turn back around as we move, the line of soldiers and mounted steeds heading around the castle and toward the palace’s front gates. I find I don’t need to steer my horse; it moves as one with the group.

Ahead of us, the gates open, and then there are Somnia’s residents, cheering for us as we pass them by.

Des leans over his horse to speak to me. “Fairies have begun exposing their wings,” he says, nodding to the crowd.

I follow his gaze. He’s right. Many of them do have their wings out, their thin membranes glittering under lamplight.

“Why are they all out?” I ask. Fairies usually only bare them when their emotions run high.

“Because ours are,” he says.

Indeed, Des, who once studiously hid his wings from me, now proudly bares them. And I have no choice but to show off mine.

“Why would they imitate us?” I ask.

“Because we’re royalty.”

“You’reroyalty,” I correct. “I’m not.”

Des gives me an unreadable look then nods distractedly.

The procession winds through the city streets, and just when I think our pretty line of horses and soldiers intends to walk right off the edge of the island, we double back to the palace.

I’d love to dismount already, but something tells me that’s not going to happen any time soon.

My glowing hands tighten on the reins as I glance at the Bargainer, who watches the crowd like a wolf among men. He’s going to have to pay me steeply in sex before I consider this a fair trade—

The arrow comes out of nowhere, whistling as it bears down on me.

Des’s hand shoots out and snatches it just inches away from my breast.

Holy shit.