‘Good luck, brother,’ one whispered.
‘We’ll miss you,’ the other murmured.
Fionn had never wanted to hold his brothers more. All his envy of them fell away. He wished he could stay and see their lives unfold.
Brudus and Drostan did their duty and steered him to the centre of the court.
Now there was only tense silence as Fionn’s Redfolk suitor was also shuffled into place. Fionn fought the urge to recoil when he felt the water disturbed near to him—the presence of a body entering his curtained bubble. He maintained a stiff, regal pose, hiding just how crumpled he felt inside.
Finally, the Court Shaman announced it was time for the swearing of the oaths. The renewing of the bargain.
The Blue King was to start. His song was uncharacteristically sullen. ‘I, King Aonghas of the Bluefolk of the Minch, hereby swear my oath of allegiance to our Redfolk kin.’
The Red King answered this call. ‘And I, King Rhiath of the Redfolk of the Great Fae Oceans, hereby swear my oath of sanctuary to our Bluefolk kin.’
There was another long, uncomfortable lull.
‘You must say the words, King Aonghas,’ the Red King said slyly, like he found something amusing that Fionn couldn’t see.
‘You are enjoying this,’ the Blue King hissed.
‘I enjoy our friendship.’ The Red King’s song turned fanged. ‘It would be a shame to lose it.’
Fionn sensed the whole courtroom holding its breath. Was it possible that his father would defy the Red King?
A quiet ‘Your Majesty,’ from the Shaman prompted the Blue King to continue.
But his song seemed to falter around the words he was duty-bound to say.
‘I… give you… I give you my son…I give him willingly…’ The Blue King broke off with a snarl. ‘You know the words and how hollow they are. I give you my son but not willingly. I give you my son but not happily. I give you my son not in the name of friendship but in the name of coercion.’
The Red King laughed, low and evil. ‘I like these oaths even better than the original. I accept your unwilling and unhappy gift.’
Fionn’s heart hammered behind his ribs. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The pain in his father’s voice. The anger. The grief.
This was the man who had never once looked at him with a smile. The distant king who barely recognised his achievements. The man Fionn so desperately wanted to impress but seemed always too far away to even capture his attention.
And despite this flood of confusion, Fionn knew one thing for certain: he hated the Red King. He and his father had that in common in this moment. Fionn despised the obvious pleasure King Rhiath was taking in his father’s misery, and Fionn’s at that.
No wonder they didn’t let many other Minchmen observe the wedding ceremony. It would expose the lie of their alliance all too quickly. The marriage bargain deserved to die.
Fionn startled when he heard a sigh in front of him, having forgotten another body shared this space. His Redfolk husband-to-be sang in a whisper. ‘I taste your vexation and I understand. My uncle can be cruel. We are not all like that.’
Fionn didn’t gratify him with a response. He didn’t even know his name. Such was the regard for the lives involved in this transaction.
The Red King’s voice echoed over the chamber. ‘Command your prince to remove his blindfold and accept his new mate.’
I shall not lift a hand until I am ordered,Fionn thought grimly.Perhaps I shall not lift it at all.
There was still time to run away. If he kept the blindfold on, he could surely wing his way past the guards—it would take them by surprise, no doubt. Maybe he could find Rory again. Maybe there was still time to undo everything…
The Blue King’s voice was heavy. ‘Prince Fionn. Pray remove your—’
A thundering crash interrupted him. The throne room shook, sending a great tremor through the water. Then a chaotic rush of voices as everyone began to clamour at once.
‘What was—’
‘Guards!’
