at Neeve, taking a moment to breathe.
Neeve’s grave look was warning enough. Brea needed to tread carefully here. But could her aunt really be lying to her? She’d gone to great lengths to make Brea feel welcomed and loved. She couldn’t imagine any of that was fake.
“I do. Um. Like him, that is. Griff is a charming young man. Whom I just met and we’re, ah… still getting to know each other.”
“Strong marriages have been built on far less.” Aunt Regan nibbled on her quiche like she hadn’t just scared the pants off her niece. “We will announce your betrothal to Griffin in a fortnight. After your marriage the following month, I will name Griffin heir in the event of my death. Any children of yours shall become my blood heirs. They will continue my line. This way you will be a queen of Fargelsi one day. That would make me very proud.”
“Children? Queen? A month?” Brea sputtered. She was about to tell the queen she was a lunatic when Neeve interjected.
“Perhaps Lady Brea needs some time to think, your Majesty?”
“She has time.”
“May I remind your Majesty, she has also grown up in the human world where these things are quite different. By their standards Lady Brea is still a child who wouldn’t be ready for marriage for several more years.”
“Is that so?” The queen frowned. “This proposal seems strange to you, dear?”
Brea only nodded. She couldn’t get the words out that the queen was off her rocker if she thought she was going to marry a cute boy she just met.
“Too fast.” Brea finally managed to string two words together.
“Yes, that’s right,” Neeve continued. “Even adult humans much older than Lady Brea will court a young woman for a year or more before proposing marriage.”
“I see. I suppose we could announce the betrothal in a month, and then give her a few more months to prepare for the big day. How does that sound, my darling girl?”
It sounded like it was time for Brea to get the hell out of Fargelsi.
Back in her room, Brea clawed at her clothes. She couldn’t breathe under so many layers. “Get this thing off of me.”
Neeve worked quickly to remove her dress and unlaced her corset with nimble fingers. “Just breathe, Brea. It will be okay. Lord Griffin is a good man.”
“Yep, yeah, he’s a great guy.” Brea gulped air into her lungs, kicking the dress across the room. “I just don’t want to marry him when I’m not even old enough to buy beer without a fake ID.”
The other shoe had just dropped, and it crushed Brea.
“Was any of it real?” she asked, fanning herself. “I need air.” She stumbled for the balcony.
“Brea, you can’t go out there in your under clothes.” Neeve rushed to wrap a silk robe around her. Brea let Neeve fuss about her clothes as she breathed in the lavender-scented air.
“I knew it was all too good to be true.” They just wanted her for her bloodline so they could make Griff a king. Did he even care for her at all? Was his top ten things I love about Brea Robinson just a line she’d fallen for like the stupid girl she was?
For that matter, did she mean anything to Regan but a means to an end? Tears burned her eyes. She’d cried more tears in her lifetime than was remotely fair. After years of believing she was insane, she finally found where she belonged, and that was a lie too.
“It’s all a lie. Just like you said.”
“What, my Lady?” Neeve patted her back.
“In the caramel sauce. You said it was all a lie.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Neeve’s hesitant smile stopped her tears. “It’s treason to spell out dire warnings in caramel sauce.”
“He said I could trust you.”
“You can, Brea. Of that, you should never doubt.”
“I have to talk to Griff before I do anything stupid.” Like trust something Lochlan O’Shea said. “I have to know if Griff had any part in this.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brea stumbled through the palace, forcing her way past guards wearing her aunt’s colors. She sprinted down a spiral stone staircase, thankful not to have a dress tripping her up. The clothes Neeve procured for her gave her some sense of normalcy. Sure, they weren’t exactly the styles she’d have worn on the farm, but close enough.
Her breath rattled in her lungs as she kept running down the long hallway. Servants scurried out of her way as she rushed out the