A Court of Dreams and Promise

Chapter Fifty-One

Tamlin

Tamlin fingered the white silk of the wedding dress he had finally chosen for Velaria after she had refused to do so herself.

It was a stunning dress, handmade and the product of likely many hours spent bent over the luxurious fabric inlaying every precious gemstone, one by one. He had to admit he thought it was prettier than the ballgown Ianthe had chosen for Feyre, though the bar was set pretty low.

He turned to the maid standing beside him, a fair-skinned human with doe eyes and dull, mousy brown hair. She stood rigid and ready, dutifully awaiting his command.

"Bring this dress to my bride's room and hang it up where she can see it," he said. "I want to remind her of what her new life is to be like."

The maid nodded and curtseyed, whisking away with the dress.

He strode out the door after her after a few seconds of thought, following the maid across the hall and into Velaria's room. The metallic scent of faebane flooded his senses, so he waved a hand and placed a shield around his body, protecting his power from the effects of the heavy faebane.

Velaria was sitting on her bed, running her hands through her silky hair. She was in a pretty little pink tank top that, despite looking spectacular on her, clashed with her eye color, and gray joggers. The gorgeous makeup her maids had put her in yesterday had been wiped off, revealing dark shadows underneath her eyes.

Tamlin stood in the doorway for a minute, watching Velaria as she tracked the maid's movement.

The maid curtseyed once for Velaria before hanging the voluminous dress on the curtain rod in front of her line of sight.

"I assume putting this directly where I look is your way of punishing me," Velaria said quietly. She had stopped combing her hair and now was only staring at the dress.

Tamlin raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd want to see your lovely wedding dress," he said. "Pretty thing, is it not?"

Velaria didn't say anything.

"It'll look even prettier with you in it," Tamlin tried, carefully watching the female. "I picked it especially for you."

"Just because I was forced into this wedding doesn't mean I have to enjoy every aspect of planning it," Velaria said. She turned to face him, the bargain tattoo rippling. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, the stars in them dull after a week of sitting in her room after their dress fitting. "Or any aspect of it at that."

Tamlin narrowed his eyes. "You will put on a smile, however," he warned. "During the wedding, I expect you to act happier than you've ever been before."

"How am I supposed to do that when I don't know what true happiness feels like?"

Tamlin snarled, stepping forward and slapping her. She recoiled, bringing her hand to her cheek.

"You b–" Tamlin stopped, noticing the sunlight glinting off one of her fingers. He stepped forward, Velaria flinching away from him at the movement. He extended his claws and wrapped a hand around her wrist, tugging it into his line of vision.

Tamlin snapped his gaze to Velaria. "You have three seconds to tell me why there's a fucking engagement ring on your finger," he said coldly.

Velaria's eyes were ablaze as she stared him down. "It's none of your business," she spat.

Tamlin's temper flared. "You will tell me, and you will tell me now, or I will kill your precious friend in my dungeons."

He had been holding out on interrogating Marigold while Helion was in attendance at the wedding, but had been able to get in a quick word questioning her on how exactly Helion was alive.