King Hybern stares at the High Lord of the Spring Court, Tamlin, and his younger sister.

She’s beautiful and seems obedient. She would make a good wife.

“Do we have a deal, your highness? My sister in trade for Feyre Archeron being returned to me?” Tamlin asks, his green eyes are cold and hard and unforgiving. Poor girl he thinks, his eyes trailing over the High Lord’s sister.

“We have a deal. I will take your sister as my bride and then help you get Feyre back.” The king says cruelly.