House of Shadows (Royal Houses 2)

“I’ve already claimed this one,” March said, reaching out and grasping her arm.

She stumbled a step back toward him.

“Now, March,” she said easily, “you cannot commandeer all of my attention.” She extracted herself from March’s grasp and let it rest in Fordham’s hand. The dance she’d really wanted tonight.

She could feel March fuming next to her, but she was unprepared for the next words out of his mouth.

“I must object. Unhand my fiancée,” March declared.

The ball went silent at the pronouncement, and then, whispers tittered around the room. People were too polite to point, but their eyes did the talking for them.

Kerrigan’s face was beet red. Her stomach flopped around on the floor like a fish. Her jaw unhinged as she turned to see the man she had been betrothed to twelve years earlier. Fordham’s hand still held her own. And though the whispers only grew, Kerrigan heard none of it. Only focused on the singular word that had left March’s mouth—fiancée.

“Excuse me?” Kerrigan forced out, quickly removing her hand from Fordham’s.

March shot her a beguiling smile. “We’re still betrothed, my lady.”

“No,” she whispered. “That’s not possible. I was gone for twelve years. I’m not even Bryonican anymore.”

“I assure you that the proper betrothal documents are still in place, signed by our parents all those years ago.”

“But surely, they’re not still valid. Everyone thought I was dead.”

“I didn’t,” he insisted. “I never gave up hope that I would find you again one day. And the documents are only invalid if either you were found officially deceased or I chose to marry someone else.”

Kerrigan looked into those blue eyes in shock. And he hadn’t married. He’d waited these long twelve years for her. Of course, it mattered little when a Fae male married, if he ever did; her father certainly never had. But to have left the betrothal in place was absurd. What would be the point?

“I think… I need some air,” Kerrigan said, plucking at her very hot throat. “If you’ll both excuse me.”

She curtsied and rushed out of the room. Audria grabbed her arm as she hurried past.

“Kerrigan,” she cried.

“Leave me alone, Audria.”

“I had no idea you were still betrothed.”

“Nor did I.”

“I wouldn’t have contacted March otherwise.”

Kerrigan froze and whirled on her. “You contacted him?”

“I was sure that you wanted to see our old friend again.”

Kerrigan took a step toward her friend and Society teammate. “Audria, we must work together for the next year, and I will honor that. But what you did—telling everyone that I was Princess Felicity and contacting March—without consulting me beforehand was a breach of trust.”

“I’m sorry,” she said slowly, putting her hands out in front of her. “I thought you would be happy.”

“I am not happy. Do not do me any more favors in the future.”

Audria nodded. “I understand.”

Kerrigan hurried out the front doors and onto the busy Row street beyond. She had no carriage and was in these ridiculous heeled shoes. She pulled each one off of her feet and then stood barefoot in front of the first event of the Season. What a mess.

“May I assist you?”

Kerrigan huffed a sigh when her father motioned for his carriage to be brought around. “Did you know?”

“I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“And why would that be?”

Kivrin sighed heavily. The carriage appeared, and they were helped inside before he spoke again. He ran a hand back through his dark brown hair and looked out at the city beyond as it drove toward the mountain. “I did wrong by you, Kerrigan. I acknowledge that I’m not a good father by anyone’s standards. But I did what I thought was best for you.”

He shot her a pained look, and for the first time in her entire life, she wondered if maybe he was telling her the truth. Not that it made up for the abandonment. Nothing could. But he wasn’t playing the playboy prince here. He was being honest.

“Why didn’t you break the betrothal?” she asked.

“I couldn’t. I tried. I would have had to admit to your death.”

“There was a funeral,” she snapped.

“Not on my account,” he snapped right back. “People wanted closure. I refused, and it was done anyway. But since I never sanctioned it, the betrothal documents were still valid until March married. In what world did I imagine that you would be back here as yourself for a Season—your own Season at that?”

Kerrigan shrugged. No one would have thought that. She certainly hadn’t ever planned to let anyone know who she was. Nor join in the Season. That wasn’t the world she’d wanted since she left. She still didn’t.

“How do I make it go away?”

Kivrin shook his head. “You can’t.”

“I do not have to marry someone that I do not wish.”

“Bryonican law …”

“I’m not Bryonican,” she ground out.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said as they came up to the foot of Draco Mountain. “Just focus on your studies. I’ve heard horror stories about Society training, and Lorian is gunning for you.”