Chapter 5
It was astonishing just how easily Lorelei’s mood could be uplifted by that look on Gerard de Moireul’s face.
The amount of incredulity and outrage expressed by an infinitesimal widening of that man’s eyes and a single pulse of a blood vessel in the left side of his forehead was enough to set her up for days with delight.
She would be feasting on this memory for weeks to come!
But she knew she had to move fast, before he could recover his legendary equilibrium.
Fortunately, she’d woken from her earlier nap with a brilliant new idea, and she had sent off an urgent missive in preparation just before her magical defenses had shrieked in warning that her prisoner was about to escape …
a full quarter hour earlier than she had expected.
Even so. It was all going to work out perfectly.
“This way!” she said brightly and turned to skip through the soft green pathways between the trees.
“Careful,” those trees all whispered to her. They leaned close and rustled their warning to her through their needles and leaves with a tingling breeze that tickled her skin in warning. “Danger. Enemy. Close.”
Of course the Golden Beacon was her enemy. She’d known that for as long as she’d known of his existence. But Lorelei had no fear of anything he could do to her here in her own natural domain. If he had even half the common sense she credited him with …
There. Her lips curved into a smirk of satisfaction as she heard his hard, impatient footsteps catching up to her. She’d known he would be too wise to attempt any escape through these particular trees.
“Tell me where you’ve brought me, Your Majesty.
” The inclusion of her title was a mere formality; he’d rapped out the demand in the tones of any longtime general demanding a report.
That thick duvet he’d worn like an improbable cape was gone now, left behind as they’d left behind the chill of a winter afternoon to step into this warm, autumnal morning.
He shifted out of the way of a curious copper birch just before its questing leaves could brush against his shoulder and aimed a quick, wary glance around them.
“I’ve never in my life seen any woods so thick with magic. ”
“Welcome to the fae realm, darling—and to the glorious kingdom of Efaelen, in particular.” Reaching out, she gently stroked those trailing, copper-tinged green leaves that he’d snubbed, humming over them in consolation.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the trees.
As long as you don’t share your true name with anyone here, you’ll be perfectly safe. You are my guest, after all.”
“Your prisoner,” he ground out.
Goddess be praised, she really had gotten to him this time, hadn’t she?
“We-e-ell…” Drawing to a halt, Lorelei laid one hand on his closest broad shoulder and batted her eyelashes up at him, teasing rainbow glitter into the air—and onto his white shirt—with malicious intent.
“Of course, it’s entirely up to you how you think of our relationship, my love, but you may wish to clear your head a bit before you make any firm decisions …
or describe our situation to anyone else we meet.
After all, if you’re my guest in this realm, then obviously, I couldn’t allow any harm to befall you.
All of my fellow fae will understand that.
But if you’re no more than my prisoner and an enemy to boot… ?”
She lifted her shoulders in a careless, taunting shrug, allowing the implications to rest unspoken between them.
The heat of his skin radiated through the cotton of his shirt into her palm like a furnace.
She tried not to take note of it … but oh, Sylvana help her, that thin cotton was useless as a shield!
Why couldn’t he have kept the duvet wrapped around him on their journey, for her sake?
Lorelei could feel each tightly bunched muscle in his shoulder now so clearly that she had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from stepping back in self-preservation … or falling forward into madness.
Gerard didn’t shift away from her touch, but his amber eyes narrowed dangerously as he gazed down at her. “Do you even have a fixed plan at the moment, Your Majesty? Or is this all one more series of reckless leaps into the dark?”
“Darling! Don’t you wish you knew?” Laughing, Lorelei retrieved her hand and blew him a taunting kiss before dancing ahead through the welcoming trees, out of reach of any more too-perceptive questions.
It took very little effort to persuade these old friends to lean even closer behind her, stretching their branches in his path.
As he slowed to manage the obstructions behind her, she braced herself for the next step of her challenge. Whether or not anyone else believed it, Lorelei always had a plan … but occasionally, it did include worryingly unreliable components.
If she were truly sensible, she would kill him now and be done with it.
She’d held off seven years ago for fear of sparking war; now, that fate was on its way regardless of her actions here.
None of the other generals under Emperor Otto’s control could lay claim to even half of the Golden Beacon’s strategic brilliance; none of them would be as lethal in the battles soon to come.
But every instinct in her body whispered that she needed him alive and at her side—no, not at her side, of course, that was silly, but on their side, the side of all three Queens of Villainy and every vulnerable magical citizen they were desperate to protect.
Turning the Golden Beacon’s allegiance might sound like an impossible goal, but then, what kind of scandalous fae queen would Lorelei be if she didn’t ignore accepted rules and fight the battles that no one else even dared to attempt?
Without any fae blood in their veins, no full human could navigate the aetheric barrier between the fae and mortal realms. With Lorelei as his guide, though, Gerard would finally see for himself the true wonder and beauty of fae magic—and the vibrancy of the people his emperor wanted to erase from the mortal realm.
Better yet, when it came to changing sides in the battles to come, what could be better than for Gerard and Lorelei to bond in the face of shared peril and prove exactly how well they could work together?
It was an idea stunning in its simplicity …
even if it did mean encountering Efaelen’s immortal ruler for the first time in years.
Something twisted in Lorelei’s chest at that reminder. It wasn’t homesickness—how could it be, when these very trees had sheltered and guarded her since earliest childhood? But when she thought of everything that had changed since then …
Enough. Phoenixes didn’t roll around in the ashes of their past lives; no more would she. By the time she led her reluctant guest out of the woods into a gloriously bedecked and sunny field five minutes later, Lorelei was beaming as if she’d never for an instant doubted her welcome.
The sight ahead lifted her spirits immediately.
Colorful ribbons made of sparkling magic floated through the sunlit air above three improbably large, gauzy tents made of spider-silk.
Their doors were all drawn open in invitation—and a glittering flood of fae of all descriptions came flying, crawling, and stalking in and out of them and across the wide, flat field beyond like a parade of magical delight and wonder.
Tiny sprites with iridescent, insectile wings darted through the air above slime-covered, dagger-toothed swamp fae and past giant, striding figures whose watchful dark eyes peered out at the world from behind their branches of abundant red and gold leaves and dangling acorns.
It had been so long since Lorelei had been able to attend a proper fae festival! She’d almost forgotten the thrill of so much gathered wild magic charging the air, like a wildfire just waiting to be lit.
“Darlings!” Clapping her hands together, she let go of every petty rule that tied her hands in ordinary life and, for once, allowed her full power to burst forth without any leash, showering the entire crowded field with an impossible rain of crimson leaves and golden glitter.
Fae across the field shouted in delight, vying to catch those gifts on their own skin—and each caught offering melted into its recipient’s scaled, furred, or hairless body to leave behind the golden mark of Lorelei’s own personal kiss and her powerful magical blessing.
Hunting horns sounded at her command, high and achingly bittersweet, calling on every assembled fae to welcome home the only daughter of their ancient queen, the former princess who had—although they couldn’t be allowed to know it—devoted her life to fighting for all of their sakes in the mortal realm.
An answering roar of feral, wordless joy rose from the crowded field. Every figure dropped to the ground in her honor … except the one silent, unmoving ruler who sat on a tall silver throne at the far back of the field, where they had been hidden from Lorelei’s sight until now.
She felt the Golden Beacon step up behind her, but she didn’t turn to take in his expression.
She couldn’t. Every muscle in her back was suddenly knotted tight, ignoring the commands of her better judgement, as she peered through the still-falling shower of leaves and glitter, trying with all her might to make out those final details.
The person who sat on that throne wore autumn’s colors in their flowing robes, just as she’d expected. Their traditional Crown of Autumn glowed fiery gold through every glittering obstruction in the way. But something about those angles …
Aha. As a tall, straight figure rose from the throne, Lorelei’s shoulders sagged with both relief and piercing, irrational disappointment. She might not be able yet to make out his face, but that was an unmistakably male figure.
Queen Morgana was not in attendance after all.