Chapter 16
Hours later, Serena’s eyes were dry and gritty but she was determined not to give up. Prince Edgar, however, had long since dozed off, his book open on his chest. The gentle rise and fall of his chest indicated he was in deep in sleep.
It gave her ample time to continue her research. Determination was the only thing driving her now. She had to find the name of the stranger.
With a glance over her shoulder, she saw the prince continued to doze. Likely he was still recovering from his illness and he needed the rest. She set aside the volume she was reading and returned to the bookshelf where she’d found that one.
Then she saw it.
The Hidden Courts: Folklore and Forgotten Histories of the Fae
How had she not seen it before? With a shaking hand, she pulled the thick book off the shelf.
It was bound in a deep green leather, its cover tooled with golden knotwork that seemed to shimmer and glow under the lamplight.
With her heart beating rapidly, she headed back to the chair by the fire and opened it. Excitement seared through her.
She flipped pages, looking for…what, she did not know. Something. Anything that would give her what she needed. Then she stopped on the chapter called The Weaver of Wishes.
A quiet gasp escaped her. She’d found it.
There are tales of the Weaver of Wishes, a Fae prince of the Seelie Court, once known by the name Caedon Lyserian.
Proud and noble, he broke the first law of Fae magic—gifting power without barter, giving freely to one he loved.
For this, the Well of Wishes bound him in eternal servitude, to weave what others desired at the cost of memory, secret, or soul.
Legends say his curse may be undone only if a mortal speaks his true name, for a name is both lock and key in the realm of the Fae.
She sucked in a breath and then his name escaped her on a whisper. “Caedon.”
The name curled over her tongue like a dangerous secret.
For a moment, the air in the library seemed to thicken, and she swore the flames in the hearth flickered higher.
Unexpected tears burned her eyes. She’d found it.
She’s found him. He was not merely a Fae.
He was a Fae Prince of the Seelie Court.
Shaking with her newfound discovery, she closed the book with a thump and clutched it against her chest.
The noise startled the prince awake. He sat up, the book sliding from his chest to his lap as he blinked sleepy ocean-blue eyes. For a moment, he looked disoriented as he glanced around the room and then looked at her. A sleepy grin tugged his lips.
“You’re still here,” he said. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”
He rose to stoke the fire.
She wasn’t shivering because she was cold. She was shivering because she had found the answer. She couldn’t tell him that.
“A bit,” she lied, teeth chattering.
Once the fire was going again, he rose and turned to her, his brows creased. “How long was I asleep?”
“A while,” she said. “I think you needed the rest.”
He noticed the pile of books next to her and grinned. “It must have been a good long while if you’ve read all those.”
His stomach rumbled then, and he flushed. “My apologies, my lady. You must be famished. Could I escort you to dinner after we change?”
Court rules. They always dressed for dinner.
Serena got to her feet. Admittedly, she was hungry, too, but she would never say so to the prince directly. It was the least of her worries. She was much more interested in finding out the stranger’s name. And now she had it. She continued to clutch the book to her chest.
“I wonder, your highness, if I could borrow this book?”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation or asking what it was. He held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”
She took it. He was so formal, it was difficult for her to relax in his presence. As he escorted her back to her room, her mind whirled.
Caedon. His name was Caedon.
Caedon Lyserian. A Fae Prince of the Seelie Court. Weaver of Wishes. Ruler of her heart.
The thought jolted her. She hadn’t expected it. Nor had she expected to have any sort of feeling for this man who had come to her aid on more than one occasion. She had no right to feel anything for him and yet…
Yet, her heart fluttered as she turned his name over and over again in her mind.
She couldn’t believe she was able to find it in the massive library in the palace. It was as though it was here, waiting for her to discover. Waiting for her to learn his name and bring him back to life. Release him from his terrible bondage.
Now more than ever, she wanted to flee the palace and return to her village, climb the mountain, and announce to the Well of Wishes she knew his name. If it saved him from certain death, she would do it. Because he had saved her.
At her door, the prince bid her farewell with the promise to return. She nodded, anxious to get past dinner and back to her room so she could practice saying Caedon’s name aloud.
The hours crawled. Dinner dragged on. She did her best to pay attention, smile and nod, and reply when asked questions. But dining with the royal family was never something she aspired to do. Maris, on the other hand, would have loved it.
The prince was attentive. Sitting next to her. Keeping her close. Leaning in to whisper when his father said something brash.
A sudden awareness struck her. The way he sat so close. The way his hand brushed hers when there was no need. The way he cast her surreptitious glances and gave her soft smiles.
Oh, gods.
He liked her.
Perhaps it was merely because she’d healed him and his affections were displaced. She hoped that was the case.
Her sister’s face came crashing back to her. How she had that dreamy look of hope when she learned the king was coming to the village. How she hoped he was coming to pick a bride. And what did Serena do? She scoffed at the thought and dismissed it.
And yet…here he was. The crown prince sitting next to her with his smiles, casting her adoring looks.
She needed to put a stop to this. She pressed a hand against her forehead.
“My lady, are you well?” the prince asked, concern edging his tone.
This was her chance. She gave him a weak smile. “I’m afraid I have a bit of a headache. I think I’d like to retire.”
She pushed back from the table. The prince did the same.
“I’ll escort you.”
Would this never end? She forced a smile and took his outstretched hand, aware of all the eyes on her as they departed the palatial dining room.
When they were out of earshot of the room, he said, “Thank you for spending time with me today.”
She gave him a questioning glance. “In the library?”
He nodded. “No one has ever spent that much time with me before.”
Something about that made her heart squeeze. Then a wave of guilt washed over her. She merely wanted to go to the library so she could find the answers she needed about Caedon.
“I was glad to do it,” she said with a smile.
“You truly are special, my lady,” he said.
She cringed but kept her face impassive so as not to give away her inner thoughts. “I don’t think so, your highness.”
“I do. You’re brave to come here. You saved me.”
Gods, why did he have to say such things? Did he not understand she had no choice? That she could not refuse the call from the king himself? That she felt she put her life and her family in jeopardy if she refused?
She said nothing. She kept her eyes forward as they continued to walk.
Relief pressed through her to see the two guards standing outside her chamber door.
And though she saved the prince and was given the privilege—no, the honor—of being in the royal apartments, it was clear they did not truly trust her.
At the door, she halted and turned to the prince. “Thank you for escorting me back.”
It occurred to her then that the prince was escorting her to keep an eye on her, to make sure she went where she was supposed to go at all times.
“It was my pleasure, my lady.” He took her hand in his, held it for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. He looked as though he wanted to say something more.
Her heart kicked up speed, pounding against her ribcage. “If there’s nothing more, your highness?”
He squeezed her hand, started to release her, then held fast once again. He pressed a kiss against the inside of her wrist. Right above her racing pulse. She wanted to recoil, to snatch her hand away, but she didn’t. When his gaze met hers again, she saw delight in them.
He’d misconstrued her racing pulse as affection when, in fact, it was fear. Fear that she would not be able to escape this prison of her own making.
“Tomorrow, will you ride out with me?”
“Ride, your highness?”
“I know it’s cold out, but I would like to spend some time with you. Alone. I have…” He paused, pressing his lips together as though he was unable to find the right words. “I have something I’d like to ask you.”
No. No. She didn’t want him to ask her anything. But she did not refuse him. “A ride sounds lovely.”
“Good. I’ll make sure they bring you warm clothes.” He released her hand.
“Thank you, your highness.” She dipped a curtsy.
Then she entered her room and closed the door with a snap, leaning against the solid wood until she heard his receding footsteps.
What in the stars above could he want to ask her?
She pushed away the thought. She knew, if she was being honest with herself. And she could not accept it. She could not. She had a promise to keep.
Her gaze landed on the green book she’d left in the center of her bed. She rushed to it, then, picked it up and flipped to the page where she read again the story of Caedon. She ran her fingers over the printed ink and then tried out his name on her tongue.
“Caedon Lyserian.”
She liked the way it sounded, the way it felt when she said it. The way her heart raced when she did.
“I have found you,” she whispered. She read on, “He broke the first law of Fae magic. What was that, Caedon? What did you do?”
Serena kicked off her slippers and climbed into the bed, holding the book.
She read more, in the hopes she would learn the truth.
But there was nothing in the book that gave her that answer.
After a time, she fell asleep, clutching the book and dreaming of the Fae prince who was bound into servitude for all eternity.
She dreamed of the Well of Wishes, golden magic tendrils curling upward into the night, lighting it up.
Your time is ended, Serena Windriver. The wish has been granted. The bargain must be paid.
“But…my family…I haven’t—”
That does not concern me. You have tasted power. You have taken what is not yours. Now, return. The Well will claim you. Your breath, your blood, your name.
She whimpered, trying to pull herself out of sleep. But something held her there. As though the Well itself had invaded her dream.
You cannot hide. You cannot flee. The Weaver waits, the hour draws near. Come to the mountain, Serena Windriver. It is time.
She jolted awake, heart pounding, sitting upright so quickly the book slid off her chest and off the bed, thumping on the floor. The room was still and quiet. Only the dying embers in the hearth glowed there.
And she knew then what she had to do.
Return to the mountain, speak his name, and risk everything before the Well claimed her first.