Chapter Forty
I come here to escape.
To escape myself.
The mild late autumn breeze tousles my freshly cleaned hair and wipes away all the thoughts plaguing my mind. The last rays of sunlight highlight the peaks, where the remaining Fae have made their home, the peaks I know so well, at least from this distance. Not for the first time, I stand on this balcony willing them for answers I don’t have.
These past few days have been too much. I just want to go back. Perhaps if I marry Lysander, everything could go back. Licia and Gryphon don’t need me. I won’t have to figure out what I want. I’ll have Lysander and his court to do that for me.
I let my mind wander, playing with the idea of getting on a ship tomorrow with my new husband. How would it feel to leave all this behind me?
“Princess Rowandine? I’m ready for you now,” Marlys’ voice cuts through my thoughts.
“I’m ready.”
I follow Marlys’ voice back into our chambers, the low glow of candlelight warms the room. Licia’s moved from her perch before the mirrors toward the couch before the glowing fireplace. The warm light plays off her pale-yellow dress and highlights all of Marlys’ careful work, from her carefully painted face to the gems sparkling in her hair.
I obediently take my place upon the pedestal before the mirrors. A slight excitement thrumming through me. Despite the occasion, I’ve always enjoyed this part. Shedding my daily skin while Marlys carefully molds me into the princess I’m expected to be.
“Tonight’s the night, dear sister.” Licia’s pretty face is reflected in the mirror before me, her eyes light at the thought of all tonight will bring. By her careful tone, I can tell she’s spoken to Gryphon about our conversation, but she keeps the conversation light. “Are you ready?”
How does such a simple question churn my insides into knots? Marlys senses my hesitation and speaks for me, “Tonight will be a night to remember.”
Her answer seems carefully veiled, but her features and movements don’t betray she knows anything more than tonight is my last night as a single woman. Again.
Her words remind me I still have a part to play, even here in the safety of our chambers with Licia, who needs to remain in the dark of my plans. I envy her obliviousness to what’s about to happen tonight. It makes it both easier and more difficult to play this part. To walk away.
“I’m nervous. And excited, but yes, I’m ready.” Both of which are true. “The celebration will be—”
“Bigger and more grand than anything! It’ll dwarf your previous wedding and perhaps even Killian’s. Which is probably the reason for his recent glumness.”
“So you’ve noticed it, too?” His mood lately has been unnerving, to the point I thought he was on to my plans. But if Licia’s picked up on it, then he’s probably just annoyed Hadeon is making such a fuss over my nuptials to foreign royalty.
“His constant brooding and lurking around every corner? It’s hard to miss. But I suppose you have an excuse. You’ve been so busy keeping King Sturdevant entertained, as well as the bard if I’m not mistaken.”
Sometimes her awareness surprises me. But then again, how else is she supposed to keep entertained here? Besides riding upon the ever-growing wave of gossip?
“And tonight is just the beginning. Tomorrow, the actual ceremony will be—” I can’t bring myself to finish the thought.
After Marlys pulls my hair up into loose curls, framing my face, she braids black pearls through the remaining pieces of my hair. Licia is long gone, and too excited to sit still a moment longer.
“Once upon a time, the Fae who watched over the land here used to wear thick braids in their hair, pulling it away from their face before going into war. They used pearls, such as these, to denote not their conquests, but how many they had saved along the way.”
I watch her reflection in the mirror, the raspiness in her voice at odds with the strength and skill with which her hands work, as if she’s done this a thousand times. But Licia nor I would ever sit still long enough for her to do this when we were younger. Perhaps Licia’s grown more patient in my time away.
“It was a sight to see. You could hear the queen herself before she even set foot within a room, her beads and trinkets resting heavy, weighing down her curling locks, but not her spirit. She had enough of that to fill an ocean.”
“She was a warrior? The Fae Queen went to war?” I ask, attempting and failing to mask my eager interest. Patton had mentioned she was good with a sword, but no one, besides Thaliya, has ever spoken of the Fae Queen, my mother. At least in a positive light.
“Queen Bronwinn was a force to be reckoned with.” Marlys’ gaze is far away. I study her features. The way she’s careful to keep her hair combed just right so her ears never show, and how, no matter how far I cast my mind, every memory of her has her looking exactly the same as she does now. Could she be one of the Fae hiding in plain sight? I’ve never even questioned her loyalty to my father before. But the way she speaks of my mother, it’s as if she knew her, herself. “She believed her people, all her people, not just the Fae, would do great things for this world. And that, along with her equally strong partner, King Azullian, kept her going.”
“Roe! It’s time,” Licia’s sing-song voice echoes from our chamber entryway. “Are you coming?”
“You’re ready.” Marlys, who’s in front of me now completing her final ministrations around my face, gently touches my cheeks, still with mist in her eyes, kisses the ring on my finger, and motions me to meet Licia.