you stood still, your heart pounding beneath layers of fine fabric as high king eldred slowly circled you. his gaze was sharp, cutting through the space between you, his thoughts heavy and unreadable. each step he took echoed in the grand chamber, amplifying the weight of the moment. the court of elfhame was silent, their eyes fixed upon you like a predator watching its prey. you could feel the air thick with unspoken judgments and ancient tradition, binding you like invisible chains.

you were no stranger to the cold stares of the fae, being the mortal foster daughter of madoc, the grand general of elfhame. though you had been raised in this glittering, treacherous world, your human blood had always set you apart, a quiet reminder of your outsider status. yet here you stood, caught in the ancient custom that the general’s child must marry into the royal family. a marriage not born of love, but of duty, of politics. it did not matter that you were mortal, the court had already decided—tradition would not bend for you.

eldred’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable as he weighed his decision. the rest of the royal family stood behind him like statues, their gazes sharp, but their faces masked in carefully cultivated indifference. cardan, the youngest prince, leaned against a pillar with a sour look, arms crossed, barely containing his displeasure. his eyes, dark and burning with quiet resentment, flicked toward you, and you saw nothing but irritation there. it was clear he wanted no part in this.

the high king finally stopped in front of you, his voice cutting through the suffocating silence like a blade, “she will do for my youngest.”

the words fell over you like a heavy weight, sealing your fate. across the room, you saw cardan stiffen, his lips pressing into a thin line as he glared at his father. the corner of his mouth twitched—not in a smirk this time, but in restrained frustration. this was not just your future being determined, but his as well, and his fury was palpable.