Chapter 13 #2
“The kind where humans reclaim sovereignty over their own world, and the seelie return to defend theirs before it’s too late.” Dyfri meets my eyes directly. “A managed withdrawal rather than a catastrophic retreat.”
It’s not what I expected him to say. Not at all. There’s something almost... hopeful about it. As if he actually wants humans to be free.
“You think that’s possible?” I ask.
“I think,” Dyfri says carefully, “that there are people on both sides who might be interested in exploring alternatives to the current arrangement.”
People. Like the mysterious Welsh man who vanished into thin air.
“And you’re one of them?” I ask quietly.
“You and I are on the same side,” he says simply.
A tentative flicker of relief starts to burn within me. I might not need to call anyone. This might not be a disaster. Dyfri has given very plausible reasons why he would side with the Resistance.
It might not be insane to trust my husband.
“That’s wonderful news,” I say.
Dyfri hesitates, and for a moment I think he’s going to deflect with sarcasm. Instead, he looks down at his hands.
“There’s something you should know about me, Jack. Something you’re bound to discover eventually, and I’d rather you heard it from me. I don’t want to keep secrets and give you more reasons to mistrust me.”
The serious tone in his voice makes my stomach clench. “What is it?”
“I’m half-unseelie.”
The words hang in the air between us like a confession. I blink, trying to process what he’s just told me.
“Half...?”
“My mother was an unseelie princess. There was a temporary truce between the courts when I was conceived. A political marriage that lasted all of a year before she was sent back to her own people.” Dyfri’s voice is carefully controlled, but I can hear the pain underneath.
“I was too young to remember her, but that doesn’t stop the court from forgetting what I am. ”
The pieces start falling into place. The way other fey looked at him at the reception. Lady Morwenna’s particular brand of cruelty. The careful distance everyone maintained.
“That’s why they hate you,” I say, and it’s not a question.
“They fear me,” Dyfri corrects. “Unseelie blood is... unpredictable. Dangerous. I could be a spy, a sleeper agent, a weapon waiting to be activated. Or I could simply be what I appear to be, someone caught between two worlds who belongs fully to neither.”
“But you’ve lived at the Seelie Court your whole life. You’re loyal to...”
“They can’t be sure of that.” Dyfri’s smile is bitter.
“Are you? Loyal to them?” I ask suddenly. Impulsively and stupidly.
Dyfri fixes me with an intense look. “By blood, I’m a prince of the Unseelie Court too. My loyalty could lie with them.”
“Does it?”
A short, sharp, bitter laugh barks out into the air. “You are going to ask, just like that? And trust the answer?”
“Yes,” I breathe solemnly.
Dyfri blinks. “Why? You have no magic at all. You certainly cannot compel me.”
“I know you.”
He scoffs again. “Some exchanged blow jobs and hand jobs mean nothing.”
“You are my husband, and that means something,” I say.
Dyfri flinches as if my words struck him. “You are a very strange man, Jack Caxton.”
I shrug.
His eyes narrow. “I am loyal to the Seelie Court.”
“Okay.”
“Why do you believe me?” his dark eyes are blazing. “I’ve spent my entire existence being reminded that I’m not truly one of them. That my very existence is suspect. That I should be grateful for whatever scraps of acceptance they deign to throw my way.”
I blink as my overwhelmed mind tries to keep up. Why is Dyfri angry that I trust him? Why is he giving me reasons why he hates the Seelie Court? Is he trying to tell me he is not loyal?
Then the reality of what he is saying hits me like a physical blow, and I no longer care about any questions.
I think about the scars on his arm, about the way he flinched from my touch those first few days, about the careful way he holds himself like he’s always expecting violence.
Another thought slams into me, and the fury that rises in my chest is so sudden and violent it takes my breath away.
“They made you a rhocyn because of it, didn’t they? Because you were half-unseelie.”
Dyfri goes very still. “Jack...”
“They punished you for something you had no control over. For existing.” My hands are clenched into fists, and I have to consciously relax them. “How could they? You can’t choose your parents. How could they hold that against you?”
“Because,” Dyfri says quietly, “amongst the fey, bloodline is everything. And mine is tainted.”
“That’s bullshit.” The vehemence in my voice seems to surprise both of us. “You’re not tainted. You’re not responsible for who your parents were or what political games they were playing. You’re just... you.”
Something vulnerable flickers across Dyfri’s face. “You say that now. But when you really understand what unseelie blood means...”
“I understand that it means you’ve been treated like shit your entire life for something that isn’t your fault,” I interrupt. “I understand that it means every cruel thing that’s been done to you was done by people who decided you were guilty of existing.”
Dyfri stares at me, his eyes wide with something that might be shock.
“And I understand,” I continue, my voice full of conviction. “That it probably means you have very good reasons for wanting to see the seelie defeated. Because why should you be loyal to people who’ve never shown you an ounce of genuine loyalty in return?”
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Then Dyfri lifts his chin.
“I am loyal to the Seelie Court. I want them to withdraw from Earth for their own good.”
“If you say so,” I breathe softly because I’ll take his word. And I can believe he is a better man than I am.
I’ve never been a vengeful person, but right now I want Dyfri to smite them all. He deserves nothing less than that satisfaction.
Dyfri’s dark eyes are uncertain. Then his breath catches, just slightly.
“You’re not... disgusted? Afraid?”
“Afraid of what? That you have no reason to like the people who hurt you and made your life miserable? That you might be part of a court that values chaos over rigid hierarchy? That you might have inherited some kind of rebellious streak?” I almost laugh.
“Dyfri, if anything, it makes me like you even more.”
“Jack...” he starts to say. Then something breaks in his expression, the careful mask crumbling completely. “You mean that.”
“I mean that.” I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together.
“You truly don’t care that I’m half-unseelie?”
“I’m not seelie. Or even fey. So why should I care?”
Dyfri blinks and then turns away. But he doesn’t pull his hand away from mine. He holds my hand while he battles to compose himself.
I take several deep breaths and try to pull myself together too. My outrage that the entire fey court is nothing but a nest of bullies, is fully justified, but I can’t exactly go and punch them all.
What I can do is plot and plan to kick them out of my world. It might be a mercy to send them back before their other enemies attack, or it might simply be revenge. Either way, they will be gone. Earth will belong to humans once more.
I’m not as na?ve as my husband thinks I am, so I’m not entirely sure what Dyfri’s motives are. Vengeance or loyalty. I suspect there are moments when he is not sure himself. But it doesn’t matter because the end result is the same.
Dyfri wants the fey to go home.
And in that, we are united.