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“I think it’s possible,” I said quietly. “This is his chance to reinforce his rule over us. After he chooses a bride, he can stomp down any sign of rebellion. Those two things combined are a guarantee to keep the village in line for the next seventy-five years. Do it all in public. Make sure every mortal sees. When else are we all gathered like this?”

Val charged across the room, her eyes alight with anger. Roughly, she grabbed my arms. “Then you need to get out of here.”

“There’s nowhere I can go, Val,” I said calmly. “And if I run, he’ll take his anger out on someone else.”

My family. Val.

She swore and spun away, stalking across the room, her boots thumping heavily with each dramatic step. A knock sounded on the door a moment later, and my sister poked her head inside the room, frowned. “What’s going on in here? It sounds like you two are trying to knock the walls down.”

“Val is a little anxious about the festival,” I said dryly.

My dearest friend jerked to a stop in the center of the floor and shot me a growl.

I merely smiled. “See?”

“Geez, calm down, Val.” Nellie inched into the room, her gown spilling around her feet, and edged the door shut behind her so silently it didn’t even click. “You know he isn’t partial to redheads.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she muttered.

Nellie’s brows furrowed, scrunching up her cheeks. “You’re worried about Tessa? I doubt he’ll choose her.”

They both pointedly looked at my very flat chest.

Not an insult, coming from them, but the king famously loved breasts, which had always made me worry for my sister. She had sweeping curves, tanned skin, and eyes big and wide and full of innocence.

I’d bury my dagger in his chest before I let him take her from me.

Just as I opened my mouth to calm them both down, my mother joined the party. Unlike us, she wore a simple frock. A brown linen thing that hung off her body like rags. Every mother and older woman in Teine would be wearing the same thing. King’s orders. He liked to be able to pick out his prey from the crowd. Easier to spot them all when they were dressed up in feathers and bright silks.

“The three of you need to hurry up and finish getting ready. The festival is about to begin.” She shot Val a very pointed look. My friend withered before her. My mother was the only person who could elicit that kind of reaction from Val. “You best get dressed, too, young lady. The king is unlikely to pick you, but you have to play your part.”

Or else.

“I would rather be forced to sleep in a room made of windows for the rest of my life,” Val said. “I don’t even like men.”

“I know, my love, but the king does not care about that. You must go to the festival, smile and nod, and then after he chooses his bride, you’ll be free to live your life the way you want.” Mother clutched her hands, and to my surprise, Val stood. “I set aside a gown for you, too. Come now. We can’t leave the king waiting.”

Six

Tessa

The village square buzzed with so much excitement that I swore I could feel it creeping along my arms, and the steps of the pub were already overflowing with patrons. In the very center of the dirt-packed space, a bronze statue of the king perched beneath a crown of twisted thorns. Bouquets of wildflowers had been tossed to his feet. I stared up at the monstrosity. The artist had captured the king’s cruel features perfectly, but they’d left out the flames in his eyes.

Val stepped up beside me and scowled. The light blue gown hugged her tall frame, showing off her curvy thighs. Jewels that matched her necklace twinkled along the hemline, enhanced by the elaborate updo my mother had done for her fiery hair.

She looked incredible, though I knew she’d hate it if I told her that.

“Look at him. He thinks he’s so much better than us.”

“Good thing he’s just a statue.” I grinned at her, trying to make light of the situation, even though I agreed with everything she said. If I didn’t think I’d get the entire village into trouble, I’d slam my pointy shoes into the statue and watch it tumble onto the dirt where it belonged.

Val folded her arms. “Except the real thing is on the way. Already halfway down the hill.”

We both turned toward the procession making its way down the hilly path to the village. Riders on horses led the fae, waving their brilliant crimson banners. The king’s crest was emblazoned in the center in a deep orange—the symbol of a one-eyed dragon. Two dozen soldiers marched behind them, their heavy steel swords propped on their right shoulders. For a moment, all I could do was stare at the blades, at the light glinting off the steel. Weapons forged to use against us. No one else.

There were no enemies beyond the Great Rift other than the Mist King. But he could not breach the chasm any more than Oberon could leave this kingdom. So, the swords were useless for anything other than keeping the mortals in their place.

As the soldiers marched on, my eyes drifted past them to the magnificent white horse trotting along, bearing its rider. My gut twisted at the sight of him. His brilliant orange hair, those horns. Those eyes that glowed with the flames of his power. Instinctively, my hands clenched into fists.