Chapter 8 · Bride in Three Days

The contract sat on my desk like a threat.

Three days until the binding ceremony. Three days until I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. The baby was already chained to this palace. Once I signed, I would be too.

I pushed back from the desk and walked to the window. The Night Court spread out below, all black stone and iron gates. Beautiful. Deadly. My family's graveyard.

"You should eat something."

I turned. Dorian stood in the doorway, still in his council blacks. He looked tired. Good. I hoped those pureblood vultures were tearing him apart in there.

"I'm fine."

"You're not." He stepped inside and closed the door. "Edwin says you haven't touched your meals in two days."

"Edwin needs to mind his own business."

"You are his business." Dorian crossed to the table by the fireplace and set down a covered tray. "And mine."

I laughed. It came out sharp. "Right. Your little bloodline insurance policy. Can't let the heir starve."

His jaw tightened. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He didn't answer. Just lifted the cover off the tray. Steam rose from warm bread and soup. My stomach twisted.