The Heir and the Undoing

Chapter 3

As soon as I am finished and move to stand, I feel eyes on me and the conversation in the room falls to whispers. As tempting as it is to drop my gaze to the ground and attempt to blend into the background as my natural wallflower instincts suggest, I tilt my chin up as march down the central walkway.

I have almost made my escape when two figures step out to block my path. Alessia is at my side in an instant, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword in warning.

"Oh, call off your little guard dog," the older of the men chuckles, displaying a row of unnaturally sharp teeth.

"Father." the younger one warns, his eyes flickering to mine and apparently noting the annoyance reflected there.

"My lords? Was there something I could assist you with?" my tone is icy and my smile tight with anger at the way he addressed Alessia.

Lord Donal of Ganrule and his son Liam are both dark fae who did not answer our call for aid in battle, but they were, of course, more than happy to attend my brother's funeral. Since then, they have lingered like an unpleasant smell as they waited for the Council's decision.

"Your highness, let me first pass on our regrets at your brother's passing. We were most sorrowful to hear of the news." Lord Donal says, reaching to pat my arm, his face a poor imitation of concern.

Yes, the gleam of greed in his eye really conveys that sorrow he claims he is feeling. "Thank you, my lord. He was a good man." I reply automatically.

He waves a dismissive hand, "Yes, well, I am most pleased to hear of the Croí Éadrom Games. It has been so long since I witnessed one," his tone is almost joyful, which seems to at odds with my mood, and his earlier claim of sadness for my brother.

Could it be that he has not witnessed one for so long because they are a horribly outdated way to torture a fae and force them into a handfasting, not really of their choice? I curve my lips into something which I hope resembles a smile and let out a small, interested humming noise.

"I would like to be the first to present a champion willing to fight for your hand." Donal says proudly, propelling his son forward so quickly that he stumbles.

Liam recovers, shooting his father another look before he bows deeply and looks up at me with brilliant blue eyes, "Lord Liam of Ganrule, your highness." 

His voice is pleasantly smooth and his manner acceptable, but that does not change the scheming man at his side or the slightly bored expression he attempts to hide.

He is no more interested in me than I am in a passing stranger.

"How nice-" I begin.

"-I am afraid you are second to offer yourself to our lovely Queen." Owen appears with a smile that is oddly territorial and at odds with his usual sweetness, "I already promised myself in the games to her."

"How?" Lord Donal splutters, his sallow face turning red with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"Lord Owen was kind enough to walk me to breakfast this morning." I explain calmly, "Now if you'll excuse me, I am needed elsewhere."

Before anyone else can protest or block my path, I march from the room. I don't know where I am heading, only that I need to get away from everyone before my anxiety awaken my power. 

I have tried my best to avoid stressful situations until I have a better handle on things, but it has not been easy with everything I am being forced to manage. 

Someone falls into step alongside me and I don't have to look up to know it is Ezra. "How are you enjoying the attention little Elle?" he asks and I know he is grinning at me, but refuse to turn my head to look.