Page 2 of Fey Empire (Fey Lords #5)

Chapter two

T he birds have begun their dawn chorus. Another night of no sleep. This time it is because gold-flecked eyes are haunting my dreams, and have done so since the moment I first saw them.

Today, I get to see those eyes again for real. In person. It’s the day of our formal engagement party. I am going to be in the same room as Prince Selwyn once more.

The thought of that is giving me a strange feeling in my stomach. I think I might be looking forward to it. Which doesn’t make any sense at all. I met him seven days ago, neither enough time to miss him nor long enough to forget the trauma.

He was terrifying. Otherworldly. Inhuman. A monster who whispered my name.

The only thing I should be feeling is fear. And dread. Possibly a strong desire to run away.

Anything else does not bode well for the state of my sanity. But maybe losing my mind could be a good thing. It is the only means of escape available to me.

Heaven knows nothing else will work. In a few short weeks, I will belong to Prince Selwyn. My body will be his to use as he pleases. My magic will swirl in his veins. My obedience will be his to command .

All of this is as certain as the sun rising in the east. It is going to happen. Regardless of what I feel about it.

I sigh and sit up in bed. Rupert will be opening the door any minute now. I might as well be ready for him, and ready to face the day ahead.

One day at a time. It is the only thing I can do.

T his is just a cocktail party. I can pretend that is true. If I stay quietly in this corner and stare at my feet.

The carpet looks like an original Buckingham Palace fitting. All around me is the murmur of voices and the clink of glasses. A hundred different conversations merging into background noise.

I’ve been to hundreds of cocktail parties before. I’ve even been to Buckingham Palace a couple of times. Before the fey made it theirs.

The point is, fancy, refined surroundings are not new to me. I am the son of a duke, after all.

My lungs stutter for a moment. The pain is still sharp. I am no longer the son of a duke. I am the brother of one. My father is dead, and I am the only one who mourns him.

Mother has never had the warmth for emotions. Monty always butted heads with our father. And Papa was so sick, for so long, the rest of the world had long forgotten he existed by the time he finally passed.

I inhale sharply through my nose. Now is not the time to be dwelling on love, loss and grief. This is my engagement party. My performance needs to be impeccable .

Panic starts to twist into my lungs. I shove it down and continue to breathe steadily.

It’s fine, it is all fine. Mother and her entourage are all very happy to be talking to the fey. Nobody is expecting anything of me. I can just stand here and concentrate on not looking petrified.

Prince Selwyn is at the other end of the room. Awareness of him is burning into me. I swear I can feel his magic dancing along my skin, teasing, seeking, exploring. Trying to taste my magic that is sleeping deep within me.

I must be imagining things. The Prince greeted me and has ignored me since. I cannot pick out his voice amongst the two dozen in here. He is not looking at me. There is no reason I should be aware of him at all.

I take a sip of my drink. I’m thankful that he is ignoring me. He is terrifying, and the thought of trying to stumble through excruciating small talk is enough to make me faint.

This unexpected reprieve is a blessing. Mother seems happy enough. I don’t think she is going to berate me later for failing to hold the Prince’s attention. Everything is good.

There is no reason to feel slighted. Feeling annoyed and bitter… is not like me at all. It must be stress getting to me. I am not the sort of person who wants a terrifying fey prince to give them attention. I much prefer to be left alone.

I risk another quick peek at the crowd around me. Prince Selwyn is still deep in conversation with three of Mother’s followers.

The large room is stuffed full of similar groups of people. Fey and human mages talking. My impending marriage truly is bringing people together .

I think all of Selwyn’s brothers are here. He has four older brothers, and Mother was very disappointed that the eldest, the Crown Prince, would not give me to anyone higher up the chain.

At least I wasn’t given to the youngest, Prince Dyfri. I give him a quick glance out of the corner of my eye. His long, dark hair is striking. His magic is strange, even for a fey.

Right now, he is standing in the opposite corner from me. A bored and haughty expression on his incredibly beautiful face. But I can tell his night-dark eyes are missing nothing. He is taking it all in. He is definitely a keeper of secrets. He probably trades in them too.

I was told his mother was an unseelie princess. I don’t fully understand the difference between seelie and unseelie. All I know is that they are mortal enemies and that the unseelie are supposed to be even more terrifying than the seelie who have invaded us.

I shiver and turn my attention to my drink. I don’t want him to catch me looking.

If I had been given a choice, I definitely would have chosen Prince Selwyn.

Hastily, I bring my glass to my lips. What a startling thought to cross my mind. Where on earth did it come from?

If I had been given a choice, I would choose to be far, far away from the fey. I’d be at home. With Monty and his friends. Maybe with time, some of them would deign to be my friends too.

I gulp down cold champagne.

I’m not a child anymore. I shouldn’t have childish dreams. A good vessel does not have friends. They are too devoted to their husband to have time for distractions. I know this. I have been trained all my life to be a perfect vessel.

My Mother’s dreams of the fey returning to Earth seemed far-fetched, but I always knew I was going to be given to someone. I paid attention to my lessons.

I know damn well vessels never have a choice.

My fingers tighten around the delicate glass in my hand. I need to force my muscles to relax before I shatter it. Across the room, I feel Prince Selwyn’s eyes on me, suddenly paying attention even though I’m sure my body language is not giving my thoughts away.

Movement from five steps to my right, startles me. Lord Coxley, Mother’s most devoted hanger-on, is moving swiftly. He is reaching into his jacket and striding away from his group.

His hand pulls out from his jacket, and points straight ahead of him. Straight towards one of the fey princes. I blink. Lord Coxley has a gun in his hand.

The bang is deafening. The flash is blinding.

As both clear, I see one of the princes on the floor. Cradled in the arms of a handsome human. It’s not the prince Lord Coxley was aiming for, I’m sure. He wasn’t aiming for Selwyn either. But maybe he doesn’t care which fey prince he murders.

Gold is blossoming all over the fallen prince’s white silk robes.

Fey bleed gold?

Shouting. Screaming. Running. Everything is motion and chaos.

Through the swirling crowd, I see Selwyn drop down to his knees beside his fallen brother .

Fey care for others? They feel emotions?

Dyfri, the dark-haired prince, is kneeling too. They are both frantically trying to stem the spreading gold.

The lines of horror and dismay in Selwyn’s shoulders are clear enough to cause a lump to form in my throat. All of a sudden, I’m confident that fey grieve.

Strong hands wrap around my arms. Fingers of steel biting into each of my biceps. I yelp.

Two stern-faced guards have taken ?hold of me.

What do I say?

What do I do?

Is there anything I can say or do?

We are moving. I don’t think my feet are touching the floor. I’m being taken somewhere.

We leave the drawing room and enter quiet hallways. Wherever I am being taken, I am going there alone. I cannot see Mother or any other humans. It is just me and these two fey guards.

We go down and down. And down some more.

My body balks when I see our destination. Not that freezing does any good. The guards simply drag me forward without even slowing their pace.

They shove me into the small cell carved out of bare earth. They shut the door made of thick wooden posts.

Then they turn and walk away. Leaving me in the dark. A patch of faintly glowing moss on the wall is the only light.

I blink as my body trembles.

I’m in a dungeon. A fey dungeon. In the bowels of the fey court.

Because the people I was with just murdered one of their princes .

“Shit,” I say silently to the dark.

I’m pretty sure assassination wasn’t Mother’s plan. She must be furious. Wherever she is.

I try to swallow, but my throat is too tight.

I can’t imagine that the fey, a race known for their cruelty, will be kind to people who assassinate their prince.

They might not even care who is innocent.

They could very well consider all humans the same.

They have no reason to believe Lord Coxley was working alone.

If he even was. Who knows who else was part of his conspiracy?

While I’m vaguely glad that not all humans wish to welcome the fey as their overlords, I really, really don’t want to be involved in any rebellion attempt. I’m far too much of a coward for that.

But here I am. A human assassin gained entry into the court as one of the guests celebrating my engagement. The blame is very clearly pointing to me.

I wrap my shaking arms around myself. My breaths are coming too fast and too shallow.

To think, less than an hour ago I was whinging about being married to a fey prince. Now, all of a sudden, that seems like a glorious and kind future.

The fates must have heard my whining.

Too late now. It’s too late to take it back. Too late to do anything. There is no apology that can fix this.

My new fate is sealed.

Whatever it might be.