31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Embla
I can feel the weight of the fae eyes that follow me through the street which dart away anytime I look up. I shrink into myself, wanting nothing more than to disappear. I know I promised Effie I would try to stop being so scared, but it’s not that easy. I was always considered average, even after my hair went white. People at home became accustomed to it quickly and didn’t stare as much as they once did when I was a child. Now every person we cross paths with seems to track me, their eyes moving with me as I follow Effie through the street.
“Where’s Astrid?” Effie asks, startling me as it cuts through the dull chatter of my brain. I could’ve sworn Astrid was right behind us. I turn to point, thinking she just got stuck walking behind someone too slow for the crowd. But, my arm pauses, hand half raised, and drooping a little as I search the crowd for those familiar blue eyes. Only to find a sea of unfamiliar faces that quickly avert their gaze as I cast my eyes on them.
“I thought she was behind me.” I jut my thumb behind me, pointing it over my shoulder as I turn back to Effie. “She’s not usually one to wander…” I trail off. I can’t help the fear that spikes in my chest, loneliness tightening its grip on my stomach. I lost my home, unable to return unless I face death and now my sister has disappeared in a city neither of us are familiar with. I just want to find a hole to bury myself in, or maybe the earth will do the work for me and just open beneath my feet and swallow me whole.
“I’ll go look for her, you two need to get in line to see the King. His audiences have grown more popular, and you never know just how long you’ll need to wait in line to speak with him,” Thea says, speaking up. She shakes out her wings, extending them in a stretch before she takes off flying above the street as she searches the crowd.
“Do you think someone took her?” My voice shakes with the question.
“Kidnapping is just as illegal here as it is in mortal cities.” Effie places a warm hand on my arm, her eyes softening. “If Thea hasn’t returned by the time our audience begins, I will ask the King to send guards in search of your sister.”
I nod my appreciation to the consideration, and temporary relief washes over me. At least one of us knows how to move forward. I shove my panic and my fear down, choosing to ignore it and give Thea the opportunity to find my sister. I won’t panic unless she can’t find her and even then, we have the guards we can send as well. I shake my head, clearing my mind. I need a distraction.
“Do...” I start my question but think better of it and clamp my mouth shut. I wring my hands, but Effie stops mid-step, the crowd parting like a river to a rock as she turns a soft questioning look to me. “Do you have a title here?” I finish the question even though I am wrapped in insecurity like a blanket.
“Sort of. I was a noble set to take over a high fae’s position, but I left.” Effie runs a hand down her forehead before pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Did you get tired of the city?” I ask, trying to hide my surprise behind a question. Effie glances around, taking in the city, the look in her eyes is reverent. I might be scared, but I can admit true beauty when I see it. I can taste the magic humming through the air, the joy. She must’ve lived here for a long time if she somehow grew tired of this place.
In the recess of my mind, I can’t shake the feeling of familiarity. Like I’ve stepped into an old recurring dream.
“I was trying to find someone, but I found your sister instead,” Effie says, and we start moving with the crowd again.
The castle walls are made of purple crystals that sparkle pink and blue even with creeping vines overhanging the wall stretching toward the ground. Spires of the towers reach for the sky at varying heights. An archway large enough for the tallest horse and cart to fit through invites us into the castle’s courtyard.
“Are you ready to go in?” Effie asks, amusement bouncing in her voice as it finally becomes their turn.
“As ready as I can be,” my voice comes out in a whisper. I wring my hands to keep them from shaking before following her inside. As I pass through, I notice strange symbols covering the entrance. Effie releases a sigh of relief as the archway passes over her. Covered tents fill the large courtyard that bustles with the activity of a busy market and I long to join their merriment as wine and mead flow abundantly.
“This is our arts market,” Effie says, a smile playing on her lips.
“Why don’t they have shops in the city?” I stand on my tiptoes trying to see what everyone is selling.
“Some of these people have full time jobs, careers, and families. Making these wares is more of a hobby for them. So, when they have too many, they come here.” Effie shrugs.
On the other side of the courtyard, we move closer to a set of stairs leading to a normal, if not wider than normal sized-door that bears the same runes as the arch but in gold. Smaller crystals of different colors are inlaid around them. A stark contrast to the barely opaque crystal.
A man with antlers that sprout from his head, dividing into ten-pointed ends, uses a cane to walk through the courtyard. Sweeping it in front of his feet as he walks. His robes are a vibrant purple with gold trim that gleams in the sunlight. A crowd of fae trail behind him, each one chattering about one expense or another. The scene is overwhelming to say the least and my mind reels as I watch everything unfold. When the group gets closer to pass in front of us, I notice the milky white of the man’s eyes. He stops before he can pass and cocks his head. Like he heard a familiar voice.
“Have we met before?” he asks, approaching. Effie stiffens beside me. The old fae’s face is covered in wrinkles and age spots. His white hair is mainly frizz and surrounds his head like a halo that matches the long beard that reaches his knees. A large set of antlers -- at least ten points it could be closer to twenty now that I’m getting a better look— protrudes from his head. While old, there is something kind about the set of his face.
“No,” I squeak, the storm of anxiety in my stomach moves to my throat.
“Your aura is so familiar,” the man says, scratching his beard before turning his unseeing gaze to Effie. “Hello Granddaughter, you’ve returned. Are you well? Will you be joining the hearings today?” he asks, his voice kind and soft with a tinge of sadness in his tone. I wonder if he’s a seer or something else of that nature. Being able to see the future would be a highly respected skill in my court.
“Yes, King Ephraim,” Effie drops into a curtsy. I freeze, the king nods and the blood drains from my face as his antlers bob too close to my eyes for comfort. I drop into a curtsy next to Effie, my heart thundering in my chest. She’s not just a fae. She’s a damned princess.
“My flower,” Ephraim says, caressing Effie’s cheek. “I’ve told you time and time again, fuck the council. I am king, and I say you will call me Popop.” His voice is gruff as he drops his cane and gathers Effie into his arms.
“Yes, Popop,” Effie says, barely audible with her head smashed into his robes. I can’t help the awkwardness as it taints the moment of a very public display of affection. I can’t blame them. All I want is to return home to my own family without worrying about being sacrificed.
“I could’ve sworn I met your companion before,” Ephraim mumbles, releasing Effie. “I’ll see you in there,” he calls as one of the nobles retrieves his cane. He turns back to his entourage, and they follow him through the ornate door.
“You’re a fucking princess.” I try to keep my volume low, but it bursts from me and Effie’s eyebrows jump to her hairline as surprise ripples out from me, like dropping a stone into still water. Garnering a few looks from the fae that surrounds us, Effie levels a glare in the direction of the onlookers.
“Not now, let’s get inside,” Effie says, walking up the stairs and disappearing into the ornate door behind her grandfather. I’m rooted to the sport for a moment, trying to process my own thoughts. Has Effie been a princess this entire time? I try to reconcile that fact with the image of the fae who camped out on bedrolls under the stars with her princess status. I’m forced to jog to catch up with her as I wonder why she hid this from us.
I follow Effie through the castle, noting how the halls seem more straight forward than the winding halls of Demendia’s palace. My first time trying to navigate my way to class is a memory that is seared into my brain through sheer humiliation. I was so frustrated, and so lost, I let loose a bloodcurdling scream that echoed to the throne room. That's at least what Brighid said the reason for my punishment was. For disturbing the King with that unholy noise that was an assault on his highness’s ears. A swift punishment was doled out by the headmistress—who up until that day was my role model. Heat rises to my cheeks as I remember the way she talked to me like a child.
If you are going to act like a child, you will be disciplined as one, she had said between gnashing teeth before bending me over her desk and beating my bare ass with a paddle full of holes. Phoebe’s face floats across my mind, the blood that stained the floor, the searing hot pain of the lashes as the whip licked at my body with each crack.
“Okay,” Effie whispers, startling me out of the past. “Since you’re human, you don’t have a voice here. Not one that will be received.” She continues as we join the growing line outside two double doors that lead to what I’m assuming is the throne room. “Em, I need you to focus.” Effie snaps her fingers in front of my face pulling me further from my memories of the past.
“Sorry,” I say blinking a few times before my eyes land on her face as I try to force the pain, the memories, my past into the small box they came from.
“Don’t say a word while we are in the throne room.” Effie’s tone is serious as she grips my upper arms, holding me still. “Not all fae and faeries will wish you ill, but not all of them wish you joy either. I’ll handle it.” Effie releases her breath before she lets go of me. She dusts off her ragged shirt, straightening her clothes as much as she can. I can’t tell the original color of the shirt but it’s brown now, streaked with stains that are darker in some areas. The line in front of us starts moving and Effie puffs out her ample chest, raising her chin but her lips tremble, reminding me that Astrid and I aren't the only ones confronting hard truths as Effie stares into a birthright she left behind.