Deep in the Bavarian woods, where the faerie realm touches on the human world lies Schloss Mondschein. Owned by a corrupted human family, the castle is the playground of the Fae. The human staff are their toys.
Servant's daughter Andromeda Arendt h...
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Pain seared through Andromeda's weary body, from her knees scraping the floor to North's tight grip on her arm, but what hurt the most was the vicious cocktail of emotions that hit her square in the chest and knocked all air from her lungs.
As the doors behind them banged shut, North crouched down and rested his forehead against hers. They were both on the floor now, the smooth parquet from the hall sliding into a gnarly, thorny weave of branches further into the throne room, a room she couldn't see because of North. North and his pine scent were all over her.
"I'm sorry you had to see that. I didn't know. You must believe me." He pressed a little harder, his skin clinging to hers, his breathing labored, as if he himself was struggling. "The High King ... he must want a reaction from us, from you. He wants you to lose control. Don't. Don't give him what he wants."
How could she not lose control after what she had just seen? "Ma ... pa ... I must help them."
"You can't." He held her face in his hands. "Listen to me, you can't. You have to save yourself now."
No! She didn't have to do anything he said—he who had brought her here—but she had to do something. If she didn't get up from this floor, her emotions would drown her. Her pain and grief would numb her. It was better to be angry than to be numb. Always better angry. "Let me go," she croaked, struggling to push the necessary air through her throat.
"Ambassador Winterborn," a voice crooned from inside the room, "are you in need of assistance? Is your charge giving you trouble?"
Laughter and hushed conversation echoed in response. The High King was not alone. A room full of courtiers, all Fae no doubt. With invincible magic, an appetite for drama, and an utter lack of empathy. Despair trickled into Andromeda's resolve again. She would never make it out of here. Attacking the High King equaled suicide. Again, she didn't stand a chance.
North loosened his grip, not much, but enough for Andromeda to expand her chest into deep breaths again. "Promise me you'll stay calm," he whispered.
"Ambassador Winterborn? Could you step aside, please? We're all eager to see her ... the Phantom of Mondschein." The crooning voice became impatient, his words instilling genuine fear in her. She had placed herself in dire situations before, but at least, in the castle, she had always known the way out.
"I hate you!" she spat at North.
"I know, now promise me."
"I won't promise you anything, you fucking Fae asshole."
"Please, be sensible. He's dying to banish you to that same mirror ... he only needs an excuse."
He had to be losing his mind, asking her to be sensible and mentioning the mirror in the same breath. It was all his fault. He had tricked her, tied her up, and brought her here. With renewed vigor, she struggled against his hold and planted her knee firmly in his crotch.
