Page 137 of The Chains You Defy

When I’d entered the room, the High King had ascended from his chair. I decided not to antagonize him more than my sole existence did already and dropped into a deep curtsy.

The intensity of how his stare lingered on me reminded me of Dion, although Galrach’s gaze was very different. There was no mistaking it, he was glaring at me with barely veiled loathing, and my skin crawled in return.

“You may rise, Eachtrannach.”

Again and again, he called me a foreigner, although I suspected the idiom had another meaning that my base understanding of Galantian didn’t cover. Dion had been very cagey when I’d interrogated him, so my assumption that the term must be a slur wasn’t too improbable.

“Thank you for the invitation and the attire, Your Royal Majesty. Both came as a surprise.”

“Have a seat. Do not sully anything with your human filth.” Galrach’s voice froze the air around me and held a threatening undertone, matching the hostile words he spat at me. His usual composed features had settled into a perpetual sneer. If he wanted to come across as menacing, he’d succeed, much to my dismay.

“I would never, Your Royal Majesty.” The second set of tableware was placed opposite Galrach’s, and Imaneuvered myself into the chair—of course, no one offered to help me.

The female servant served tea, first to the king, then to me, albeit with a grimace on her face, before she was dismissed.

My fear coiled even tighter when I found myself completely alone with the cruel High King, mere hours after his precious weapon had defied him—and maybe declared a war—because of me, a lowly human. This didn’t bode well.

“This will be quick. I am not in the mood to spend any time with you, but here we are. You are allowed to speak freely.”

“Then why did you invite me, Your Royal Majesty?”

“You are not very bright, are you? Or did it slip your mind that my grandson decided to threaten my entire High Court in a misguided notion to defend your honor before announcing you as his passing fancy?”

“With all due respect, I can’t be held responsible for your heir’s actions.”

“But you also do not have to fuck him to supply magic.”

After I had almost spit out the sip of tea I’d dared to drink—a tasty blend of lavender, honey blossom, and something I couldn’t identify—I collected my jaw from the ground.

Great, there would be no beating around the bush during this conversation.

My hands shook with anger, and I glared at Galrach before I reminded myself of my manners. To minimize the danger of spilling tea, I placed the cup back onto the dainty saucer. “I’m not.”

“Then continue keeping your legs together.” The king’s eyes drilled into mine. “Also, I do not care how many gods were present to witness Scriosta executing the First Act of Courtship. It would not even have mattered if the Triad had been there in person, brought all the godlings and resurrected godkin with them, or sat down and eaten dinner with you. Nothing will change reality.”

“Which reality?”

“The one in which you will turn down my grandson. If an ignominious human like you indulges in our traditions for a while means nothing to me, but one fine day, when the Rite of Courting comes to an end, you will not entertain even a single thought on assenting to become fae royalty, however tempting such a sentiment may be to a plain, pathetic creature like yourself. Instead, you will reject Scriosta in front of the entire High Court, and the more pain you will cause him, the better.”

Ah, there was the loophole I’d expected him to find ever since Dion had assured me that even Galrach had to honor the rites.

Straightening my shoulders, I dropped my own pretense of politeness. If he wanted to kill me, he would have done so already and not ordered me into an elaborate scheme to break the prince’s heart. At least I hoped so.

“I don’t do well with any kind of authority intending to meddle in my private affairs, Your Royal Majesty.” Rage and temper ignited like wildfire in my veins, battled my fears—and won.

Just like Dion, Galrach was an apex predator, but while my Wielder contained all the feline grace of a leopard or panther, the king held more resemblance to a common wolf.

“Your sensitivities are insignificant to me. You will follow my decree down to the last letter. There is much I can do to a frail creature like you, should you not comply.”

“Humor me.”

“I have been most generous with you so far, Eachtrannach. Galanta is a dangerous place to be, especially for a fragile human female. Who could foresee what would happen if I withdrew my protective hand from over your head? You may be under the impression that my grandson will protect you, but that is an illusion. For example, where is he now while you are alone with me?”

Great. There was the death threat I’d been waiting for, and his promise couldn’t even be described as thinly veiled.

And I didn’t doubt for a second that I’d be dead if I refused to play by his rules. Galrach had identified me as a bad influence for his precious weapon, and he wouldn’t tolerate this development. “Why does every male in my life presume that I want their protection?”

In an attempt not to appear as frightened as I was, I selected a piece of confectionery and picked up the delicacy. Hopefully, sugar would soothe my anger and my nerves. Biting into the petite, pink square filled with cake and cream, I failed to meet the king’s gaze on purpose, in feigned indignation. This move I’d learned from Dion.