He swept me through the palace – or at least I assumed that's where we were – at a brisk pace. It was as if he didn't want me to see it. I was dragged past many a hallway. It was about as well lit as my room. While we walked, I noticed that we attracted a great deal of attention. People kept staring at us. Well, I guess they weren't really people, and it was more likely that they were staring at me…

The creatures that stared at us varied from the unspeakably beautiful to the grotesque. It made me shudder. As a child, faeries are supposed to be sweet and beautiful. That image was quickly dying for me. As I saw more of them, the more I realized how narrow the human view really was. There were no faeries with sparkling pink wings that were eager to grant wishes. They could be ugly, cruel, and flat out evil.

My thoughts kept me distracted, which was nice, I guess. The less I focused on where we were headed, the less ill I felt. On the other hand, I would have to get help to return to my room. I would get lost in these endless corridors. That possibility made me shudder. Lost in here? Bad enough that I was held captive, but to be lost in the castle? I shook the thought off. I would reserve that for my nightmares.

"We're nearing. Try to be polite. You will find my father has a temper much quicker than mine." Arion dragged me back to reality. Again. He appeared to be quite good at that. His voice cut through my thoughts. Which was the case with few. In fact, I hadn't found someone who could do it as well as he could. I frowned.

He tugged at me harshly, and shot me a look that told me that I should behave. Hah. He wanted me to behave? After what happened to me today? He really was crazy.

The hall he lead me into was… breathtaking. The ceiling soared above us, and was dripping with little candles. It was like they were suspended in air by little strings. Magic, I assumed. The walls were patched gold and brown, and the floor was shiny and black. Tables draped in red surrounded us, and I noticed that the room was empty. We walked through the rows, and I could imagine what it would be like in here with the room full… How many could fit here?

At the very head of the room sat an impressive throne. It was entirely too large. It appeared to be made of some black wood, and was laced with little gold streaks. Even more impressive was the middle aged giant that sat there. His legs were crossed comfortably, and his fingers were intertwined and placed against his breast, as if he were in deep thought. His hair held a russet color, and he bore a large majestic beard. His crown was a gold circlet. Nothing more. I assumed that this man was the King.

The man seemed to smile as we approached, and sat up straighter. Arion stopped a few feet away, and I kept going awkwardly. Hey, I'm not versed in courtly rules, so don't judge me. He bowed, and I stayed standing, looking panicked. I didn't know what to do. "Curtsy," Arion hissed in annoyance. I did so, merely because I guess I was slightly intimidated by this King figure. He seemed kind… but I could tell one common trait amongst faeries was a flighty disposition.

"Father, I present to you Grace –"

"Yes, yes, boy, I know very well who she is." His voice rumbled pleasantly. It reminded me of someone… Ah yes! I had once had a math teacher like that. Mr. O'Brien had been a beast of a man, but had the nicest disposition of anyone I'd never known. I guess a part of me hoped that he would be like this. At the same time, I was wary. Goodness knew what dark temper hid beneath that bushy beard. The Kind smiled at me, and continued. "You must be Grace. I am King Oberon, much like my many forefathers." He stopped as if expecting me to say something.

I really didn't know what to say. What did you say to that? 'Oh cool, like the guy in Shakespeare's play? Cool!' Or maybe, 'I really don't want to talk to you. You're the asshole that ruined my life.' Maaaybe not. Arion elbowed me, and I scowled at him. What did he want to say? I pulled at something to get the awkward silence to go away. Someone else did that for me.

He came running in, and slid on the floor. Looking too excited for his own good, the teenager – he looked to be about seventeen – grinned at the king. In a matter that was the opposite of what Arion had done, he bowed hastily to the King. "Father! Guess what? I was toying with my idea of using iron to – " His father raised an eyebrow and the boy stopped talking.

Looking at him closely, I noticed that his hair was a lighter russet than his father – a little more gold – and I could see a clear resemblance to Arion in his features. Another prince. Oh goody. Arion made a click of disgust. Well, that clearly told me how he felt about this brother.

"Warren, you're late." His father's voice was firm. The teenager sighed.

"Sorry." He turned to me. "Nice to meet you. Grace, right? The mortal we brought here for, why?" He – Warren – glanced at his father. Oberon grimaced.

"In good time. As soon as your brother comes. Then I shall tell you of Grace's future." Well, that bothered me. Who was he to say what my future was? In fact, why was I bound to this damned contract anyway? I remembered that my mother had once been ranting about a case where a woman who had barely been capable of speaking English had been tricked by her husband's lawyers into signing something. The contract had been deemed useless because of it. I hadn't been paying enough attention, but I would sure as hell us that argument.

I broke free of Arion's arm, and backed away from the three men. "You can't tell me what I'm going to do! I am not your slave, regardless of what you may think! So back up."

Rolling his eyes, Arion stepped forward. "We went over this already. The contract -"

"Screw the damned contract! How is that even legal? I mean, isn't there some law against making someone signing a contract that they didn't even know about?"

It was clear Arion was about to argue with me, but his father cut him off with a sharp chopping motion with his hands. The look he gave his son said 'I'll take care of this.' When his gaze turned to me, his eyes bore naught but steel. Now I knew where Arion had gotten his eyes. He stood, approaching me. Apparently he'd also taught his son the same intimidation tactics.

"I beg to differ. You were fully cognitive when you accepted the gift that my son gave you. Don't you know that help never comes for free?" I scraped my memory. What else was it that had bothered my mother?

"Yes, but I was six. I didn't know that taking the rose would sign me up for captivity when I was eighteen. Kids are stupid, and you can't take their word as valid. You could have coerced me into agreeing." That sounded about right, and I gave him a smirk.

He slapped me. The bastard slapped me! Hard! Ow. My hand reached for my cheek. Damn him. "You're being insolent, and I don't appreciate it."

"Besides," Arion interjected, "I told you the conditions of the rose. You took it out of my hand. You agreed. I don't think you remember." Nursing my cheek, I ached with anger and embarrassment. My throat closed with the effort it took not to break out into tears. A chant began in my mind. 'No tears. Not in front of them.'

I stood up straight, and glared at them. "I refuse to be enslaved. You can't cage me."

"We can. We have. You shall be tamed. You shall see." The King settled back into throne. The words rumbled in the room, and I wished that I could make him eat all of those words. They seemed to sink into my skin and envelope me though. I shuddered. Hugging myself, I stayed away from Arion. I noticed that Warren and Arion now stood to the right of their father's throne. I felt alone, and I felt like I was someone they were getting ready to sentence to years in prison.

"What did I miss?" I turned towards the last voice, and there stood a very well built man. He had his father's size, but his hair was golden. It was cut close to his head, and I noted a bit of stubble around his lips. In a movie, he would have been cast as the lead male protagonist in a heart beat. Why were all of these men gorgeous!

"Ahhh. My eldest. Grace, this is Tiernan." I glanced at him, and didn't like the arrogance that radiated off him. So they were all gorgeous and annoying. Someone kill me. There was some greater force that wanted to screw with my head. If they were there, I would have shouted at them 'You've messed with me, ya happy now?'

"A charmer, I'm sure," I mumbled. Tiernan sauntered up to me and gave my hand a kiss. My stomach rolled.

"Quite a rare beauty," the prince said. Ugggh. What a predictable line. The only way that could have been worse was if he had said, 'Enchantée, Mademoiselle.' "So why is she here, Father? A present for one of us, perhaps?" That nearly made me ill. A present? For one of them? Something had it out for me.

The King chuckled. I was guessing that he favored Tiernan over Arion. Goodness knew why. "Ahhh, no." His face darkened. "It's something to do with the matter of succession." I noticed that both Arion and Tiernan seemed extremely interested in what Oberon had to say. I was interested to notice, though, that Warren rolled his eyes. I stared at him. He seemed to be the most interesting of the three – that was clear to me. He glanced up at me, flashed a grin, and winked. Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to Oberon.

"It has been decided that the one of you that wins this girl's heart shall be the next king." My heart stopped. What? No way. No freaking way. He must be crazy.

All three of us had similar reactions. I shouted that he must be crazy, and that I wouldn't marry one of them. I think Arion said something about it being against some law or some such that a prince marries a human, and Tiernan was protesting that since he was the eldest, he had the best claim to the thrown. The King silenced us with another bellow.

"It's not my idea. It was your mother's. I shall stand by that. You know… because that was the last wish she made before…" He stopped, and I could tell that he was genuinely grieved by whatever had happened to the Queen. I assumed she had died.

"Father, it's insane." Tiernan said. "We can't marry a Halfling. Arion had a point."

"A powerful Halfling. Her blood will make strong children." The King pointed out. Oh, so that's what I was. A source of power. Cool.

"It's still useless. She can't tap into it," Arion pointed out. We agreed on something; this marrying me idea was a bad one. Who knew that we would ever manage to agree on something!

The King made a gesture, and a woman came out from behind the throne. That is, if you could call her a woman. She was definitely a female. A man wouldn't have such a large chest. But her hair was short, gray, and wild around her head. Her face looked remarkably like a pig's, and it was hard to keep eye contact with her dark eyes. She also had the misfortune to be short and very stout. "Mama Thistle shall remedy that. My word is final. In order to be king, you shall have to win this girl's affection."

Like hell they would. "You seem to be forgetting that I might not be willing to play your game. I would rather marry a mutated pig than marry one of them."

The King turned to glare at me. "You shall participate. In fact, I will make you obey. My son has made you experience the effects of the rose, no?" I froze. The memory of the pain was burned into my mind. "I can tell. You shall choose one of my sons. I won't hear another word about it."

"You can't –"

"I can, and I have!" He thundered. "Ah yes… another rule… None of you may use the rose to force Grace into anything. That right remains mine, and mine alone." He paused before exiting to bark out, "Warren!" The russet haired boy froze. "You shall escort Lady Grace back to her rooms. Make sure she remains locked there. Now, all of you. Out of my sight!"

Warren glanced at me, and seemed to grimace. Sighing, he held out his arm. I shook my head at him. I would not allow them to pretend that they were being gentlemanly to me. "Come on then," Warren said his voice weary sounding.