Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(19)

Okay. I glanced between my father, the king, and Dugan. I’d thought my father brought me here for a glamour lesson, but apparently not. I had a growing suspicion that he wanted me to join the shadow court—that was the only reason I could think of for the king and prince to be here.

A moment passed before Dugan turned to my father. “She doesn’t know?”

My father gave the other fae a nonchalant shrug. “Your king was impatient.”

Dugan’s brow knotted, and then he stepped forward. He bowed again, taking my hand. “My lady, it is a great pleasure to see you again.”

I frowned. “Have we met?”

“It was a long time ago.”

I tried recalling having ever seen Dugan before. It was possible that I had caught a glance of him at the fall equinox, but that was recent and I certainly hadn’t interacted with him. He had to mean when I was a child. If so, I had no memories of him.

My father stepped to my shoulder. He pitched his voice in a low whisper, his words meant only for me. “Dugan is your betrothed.”

I jerked my hand out of Dugan’s and reeled back, away from the group. No one tried to stop me. All three fae watched me, expressions inquisitive but distant.

“You have to be kidding,” I said, focusing on my father.

“I would never joke about such things. You have been affianced since birth.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Between learning I was fading and taking my friends with me, and learning I was betrothed, I’d had too many shocks in a short period of time. It was laugh or scream.

“Dugan has an impressive pedigree,” my father said, his tone making it clear he disapproved of my behavior. “His many times great-grandfather was a planeweaver, so there is a higher than average chance your child will inherit the ability.”

I thought about that. About what I knew of my father. About what he’d said the last time I was here when he’d told me Casey was none of his, simply a backup of my mother’s genetic line.

“And engineering planeweavers is what this really boils down to, isn’t it? You think I want to be part of your little breeding program? Well, think again.”

My father lifted his hand in a placating gesture. “Be reasonable, Alexis. The fae have gone without planeweavers too long. There are kinks and knots in the fabric of Faerie’s reality and planeweavers are needed to unravel and mend the damage. You have an opportunity to help all of Faerie.” He must have been able to tell by my expression that I wasn’t buying any of it. He sighed. “You have to join a court anyway. Entering, say, a twenty-year union with Dugan would solidify your position in fae society as well as give you a companion who can guide you in the intricacies of court and help you master your glamour. The child produced by such a union would be an extra bonus.”

I just blinked at him, not sure what to say. So of course, what fell out of my mouth when I opened it focused on only the least important point. “You mean marriages among fae expire?”

“Of course. Fae are near immortal. Divorce would get very tedious otherwise.”

Right. Of course. Why not? I shook my head, trying to jar my thoughts into something akin to order. It was no use, I had too many things vying for attention. I needed to get away from here. To think things through. To plan my next step.

No one planned to give me that opportunity.

“Listen, Dugan,” I said, turning toward the prince. He was tall, which wasn’t surprising as most Sleagh Maith were, and I could admit he was nice to look at, but I just wasn’t interested. Besides, I had a boyfriend already, of sorts. “I’m sure you’re an interesting guy and all, but I don’t know you—”

Dugan stepped toward me. “I had not anticipated the need to court you, but of course I am willing.”

Gee, how romantic.

The shadow king whispered something to Dugan. I couldn’t hear what was said, but my would-be suitor’s face darkened even as he nodded.

“I am a master of glamour. If it is easier on you, I can look like this.” In the space of a heartbeat, his dark hair lightened, the angles of his face changed, and no longer was a handsome stranger standing in front of me, but now an even more handsome—and intimately familiar—figure.

I gawked at the prince, who now looked exactly like Falin. A mix of fury and sick surprise surged through me. Fury that he—or really, they—thought they could manipulate me so easily, but also shock that an obviously proud fae would submit to taking the likeness of another man to entice a girl to his bed. What could my father possibly offer as a reward to be worth that? As was often the case when my father was involved, I felt like I lacked several key pieces to even begin to guess the shape of this particular puzzle.

Still, before this stunt my answer was a resounding no. Now? Yeah, now it was a hell no, not ever, not even if I was as immortal as they claimed.

“I have to get back to work,” I said, turning from the group and heading for the door.

“Alexis, you still have to join a court.” While my father’s voice didn’t exactly sound smug, it did sound as if regardless of what I did, he was confident the ultimate outcome would be of his preference.

“Yeah, I’ll work on that. But it’s not happening today.” I reached the doorway and stepped through, back into mortal reality. Leaving the pocket of Faerie hit me harder than I expected as the exhaustion that had vanished while I was inside once again crushed me as soon as I left. I almost stumbled under the weight of it, but I didn’t and after a moment I turned back toward the door and called out, “Are you giving me a ride back to my office, or do I need to call a cab?”