Chapter 13
13
T he ball continued through the darkness of the morning, those witching hours when most humans would be peacefully asleep in their beds. She danced with one brother and then the other, both passing her back and forth like a game of catch, until her legs gave out and she collapsed against Cillian's chest.
The way they looked at her, marking her with their eyes…
It was almost enough to make her believe their intentions were genuine. She had thought Roran was flirting with her initially, but now he seemed to want to warn her. Against what?
No man had ever looked at her with such heat before—a physical burning sensation as they trailed their gaze along her skin. Both as soft as velvet and as sharp as the blade of a knife.
When her limbs gave out and her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, Cillian escorted her back to her room and left her in the care of a waiting Nora. Then he left again, no doubt returning to the party to play the victorious monarch-in-training, mingling with his simpering people and beguiling them with tales of how he'd finally conquered the humans.
The solitude felt like a balm after being surrounded by so many people. Nora hardly counted, fluttering around Aven bird-like and quick. Her deft fingers pulled the dress from Aven's body and replaced it within minutes with a soft sleeping gown.
Still, for what felt like hours, she lay awake in her bed with her attention fixed on the ceiling, one hand over her chest and the other on her stomach. Thinking, feeling—too many things to catalog at once.
The Fae King had practically given her a command. In so many words, she was meant to tie herself to one of his sons. Or both. He'd mentioned multiple times that the choice had been taken away from her. She could have both, or one, or the other, but no one else.
But why?
When she finally managed to sleep, their faces circled in her mind, one cold and one warm, both of them hated. She did hate them, truly. She wanted to inflict the same pain on them that they'd inflicted on her family, although Aven doubted either of the princes had been the one to do the deeds. It made no difference—the past—although her anger remained inside her in a tight, burning kernel, ready to erupt one day. No matter how deeply she shoved it down.
She woke in the same position on her back, her hand clenched over her heart as if she might grab that kernel and stroke it into a full-blown inferno.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and half a heartbeat later, Nora ducked her head inside. “Good morning to you, Miss,” she called out in a trill. “Time to greet the day.”
Aven curled on her side with her back to the opposite wall to keep Nora in her sights. “Don’t stand on ceremony now. You’ve already made yourself at home here,” she muttered. “Come on in.”
Nora flashed her a smile. “I was under orders from Crown Prince Cillian to get you ready. Today there is no rush. I’m here at your disposal, Miss.”
“The Miss thing is going to have to go, too.” Aven turned her head to keep Nora in front of her as the fae female crossed the room to draw the curtains open, this time with much less fanfare than the previous day. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little before noon.”
“Then there must be something to do today if you’re here to get me up,” Aven replied. She leaned back into her pillows, the fabric delicate and beckoning her to go back to sleep.
Nora shook her head. “No. I’m afraid the princes are indisposed for the next several days, Miss Aven. They have urgent business elsewhere requiring both of them to leave. You’ll be left to your own devices until they return. Not to worry, however. I’m here to help you with whatever you need.”
“You mean the palace is empty of its royal family?” Her ears perked up.
That could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing. The guards were no doubt still in place, but what might happen to her if Cillian weren’t around to put his foot down and insist on playing the perfect partner?
“His Majesty is still in attendance.” Nora held her arms out in front of her and crooked her fingers. “Come now. Let’s get you dressed. You’ll dine in the breakfast parlor today overlooking the rear gardens.”
Strange.
Aven slowly pushed back the covers. Their interaction felt almost normal after two days, and the comparison spread alarm through her system.
Nora chose another dress from the armoire for the day, this one a light shade of green like the first garden growth. “To bring out the shades of emerald in your eyes,” she said when Aven asked her about the pick.
She’d never cared about those things before.
The sleeves were once again tight against her skin, but the skirt had pleats in the front that allowed her more movement than the constricting garb she’d seen her sisters wear on too many occasions.
And no corset. Thank gods.
“Why are you so nice to me, Nora?” Aven probably shouldn’t have asked the question, and it birthed on her lips regardless. “It seems to me like your kind hates mine, but you’ve been kind. Probably kinder than I warrant.”
She’d done her best to be civil, but not by much.
Nora’s hands stilled where they pulled the ribbons of the back of the dress tighter across her shoulders. She finally resumed her movements. “It doesn’t matter to me whether you are fae or mortal. It’s not for me to pass judgment on you.”
“I have killed more of your kind than I remember to count,” Aven said bitterly. She waited for the revelation to change Nora’s demeanor.
“You were out there fighting?”
Aven cleared her throat. “Yes. I led our men myself. Whatever I put them through, I did myself.”
She composed herself, knowing she’d said it in challenge, and wondering how Nora might react. If she would reveal her true colors.
“I am not part of the war efforts nor will I ever be. My place is here in the palace with the rest of my family,” Nora began. “But I understand the desire to protect what is yours. And if anyone should come after my mother or sister, then I’d walk through fire and hell to make sure they were protected. If it were within my power to do so.” She dropped her voice to a near whisper Aven barely heard. “We are all just doing what we have to do to survive. Aren’t we?”
She patted Aven on the shoulder and shifted around to scrutinize the final picture.
Aven lifted her face, jerking when Nora reached out to pat her cheek tenderly.
“You’re free to go where you like in the palace. Crown Prince Cillian made sure no harm will come to you in his absence. Would you like a protector appointed to you, regardless? Would it help you feel more comfortable?”
Just like that, the subject had been changed, never to be reopened again.
“I’d feel happier to have a pack of wild boars watching over me. Or perhaps wolves, ready to maul their prey.” Aven muttered under her breath. “Those I know how to handle.”
Nora stifled a sniggering laugh.
“But it might be nice to have you walk with me. Cillian showed me a few things in the palace, but I don’t know my way around.”
Yet.
She was more likely to get lost in the first five minutes than stumble onto any sort of secrets. She didn’t want to die. No matter the dark thoughts that trickled through her on occasion, when the full reality of her circumstances hit home, Aven knew she wanted to live.
If only to one day slice her own blade across King Donal’s throat and watch the life gutter from his gaze.
The desire had blossomed along with the kernel of rage inside of her, the two of them twining together until they were all but indistinguishable.
Nora stopped again.
“I mean, unless you have other duties to attend to. I’m sure you’re rather busy,” Aven said in a rush. “You don’t have to stay around to babysit me.”
“I’m your lady’s maid. Which means I am yours to order in whatever manner you please. But I’d be glad to escort you around. If that’s what you wish.”
She couldn’t imagine being left to her own devices, or being allowed to wander the palace. Things did feel a little less huge, a little less heavy, with Nora at her side. The fae female moved on feather-light feet down the hallway and led the way down to the breakfast parlor where a spread waited for Aven.
She took her fill of the pastries and fruit, although she couldn’t ignore the way Nora stood at her side without eating. It felt awkward. But anytime Aven tried to get her lady’s maid to sit and join her, she was met with excuses or outright silence.
Once Aven finished eating, the two of them wound their way out of the main doors toward the gates around the palace.
“This place isn’t what I expected,” she admitted.
Nora glanced sideways at her. The two were similar in build, both of them slight and on the shorter side. Except Nora moved with the grace of a willow tree’s bending branches. Lithe and delicate where Aven stomped along and always made more noise than her frame suggested.
“What did you expect?” Nora asked.
“There weren’t many stories about Mourningvale, or at least none that have ever reached my ears. Your soldiers are ruthless and war-hardened. I nearly expected your kingdom to be the same.” Or at least in the same state of decline as her own territory. As though the very earth revolted against the situation and turned against the people who walked on it.
“Things are not what they seem to be, although it’s easy to pretend otherwise.” Nora lifted a graceful hand to indicate the swaying trees around them. “Sometimes what you see on the surface isn’t really the truth.”
“Everything is very beautiful.”
Where Mourningvale bloomed with vitality, Grimrose had withered into a kingdom of destruction.
“This place isn’t what it used to be, but it’s home.” She gently steered the two of them away from the main gates. Their footsteps were nearly silent on the sun-warmed stone path.
Just ahead through the tree line, Aven caught a glimpse of red-tiled roofs and gables in the distance. The faint sound of laughter and conversation trickled through to them and faded with every stride they took away from the gates. A village—and no doubt one no one wanted her to be able to see.
“This palace used to be carved from the land itself. Even our buildings were made from living, breathing materials,” Nora explained. “Everything had a life and an energy to it. The war with mortals might not have been a big thing in the beginning, but the land began to revolt against the fighting. Soon my people had no choice but to start building out of stone. The palace withered, died.”
“The palace died—” Cillian had said something about it being old?
“I’ve heard my grandmother talking about it. How the walls used to sing, how the very stone had a melody of its own that anyone could hear if they paid attention. More has changed than you can even imagine,” Nora continued.
Aven stumbled over her next step, a rogue rock in her path catching on the toe of her slipper. She hissed out a breath.
A stray cloud crossed over the sky and darkened the sun as Nora reached out to steady her.
Straightening, Aven took her time to look around. Indeed, the more they trailed into the garden, the easier it was to catch the small details of decline. The way the weeds and moss crept over the path and the dead spots within both. Most of the trees were tall and majestic, though there were some among the grove with black spots on their trunks and dead limbs dripping down like clawed hands to grab whoever was unfortunate enough to stumble by.
Like her.
She and Nora walked through the gardens until a bell rang somewhere. At the sound, Nora steered them back toward the palace and deposited Aven at the door to her room with a plea to rest. The lady’s maid would return later to bring Aven downstairs for dinner.
So the day went on.
And the next.
The next.
Three of them until she grew to loathe the palace even more because of its beauty. When she focused on it, somehow, it became hard to remember how she felt about this place and its people. Things might not be the way Nora remembered them, but there was life here. And joy. These people around the palace seemed so blissfully unaware of the death around them. They were just people, going about their lives, doing the best they could for their families.
History lived and breathed here.
It was a part of everyday life and seen in the thousands of small details. Carvings and paintings. Tapestries, woodworking, metalworking. All of it beautiful and steeped in the richness of the fae culture.
It made things hard for Aven, made it difficult for her to maintain her hatred.
Especially considering the freedom they allowed her. She’d almost made peace with being a prisoner. With everyone pretending the opposite, allowing her space to roam, she wondered if it were real or if they were giving her a length of rope, hoping she’d hang herself.
Every passing day the prettiness of Mourningvale lulled her farther away from her desire for revenge. If she wanted to stay sharp, then she’d need her memories of the past rather than the prettiness of the present.
On the third afternoon, she excused herself from Nora’s company to walk the halls on her own, feeling safe enough to do so at this point.
There were no monsters ready to jump out of the shadows at her.
Everything here was a source of wonder. She made her way through hallways she hadn’t studied before, trying to make a mental map in her head to find her way back to familiar rooms.
Voices grew louder, and she stopped at the end of the hallway, rooms on either side of her. Many of the doorways were shut, but one of them rested open with a small sliver of light shining from the interior.
“We don’t have time to delay, Your Majesty! The mortals will cross the border within moments. They might have already made their way over our lines,” a male said urgently. “They’ve employed our own shielding techniques against us.”
“The guard we’ve appointed will be a match for a group of rogue mortals. Anyone who goes against the decrees of their king will not be well prepared, especially after their travels. No doubt if they’ve stormed our lines, then they are operating without King Fergus’s knowledge or blessing.”
Aven jumped. That was Cillian. She recognized his voice.
But what did they mean? There were humans heading toward the palace?
She shouldn’t be there listening to their meeting. Definitely shouldn’t creep closer to get a better picture of what she heard.
But she did.
“Sir, with all due respect, there are more of them than we thought. If they’ve come with vengeance riding on their heels, they will be a difficult foe to overcome. We should not underestimate them. Our scouts say they are loaded with weapons—” the first man added.
“Then we will be prepared for them,” Cillian interrupted. “Do you think so little of our forces, General?”
An alarm rang out through the entire palace, different from the bell-like tone Aven had heard a few days before. It speared her ears, and she dropped, covering her head with her hands.
“Alert the guard! Send the palace into lockdown.” Cillian called out the order, and she caught the sound of stomping feet from inside the room. “The mortals are here!”
They’d come for her.
She knew it in her blood and bones and soul. Whoever they were, they must have come all this way to get her back.
Aven rose, an insane laugh bubbling out of her. Her men had come for her, and she was going to fight her way out of this palace or die trying. Before Cillian and the others could leave the room, she raced down the hallways back to her room to grab whatever she could find as a weapon.