Chapter 26
My entrance hall was filled with faeries the next morning.
I stopped in the doorway, gaping at the unexpected congregation.
There were Earth faeries in greens and blues, Light faeries wearing white, Illusion faeries in dramatic rainbow attire, and a handful wearing dull gray clothing that marked them as outcasts.
Unlike the groups of refugees I’d greeted in recent days, the majority of this crowd—some fifty or so—looked to be Noble Fae.
Someone bowed when they saw me, and the movement spread through the gathering like a rippling wave.
Near the front was the Illusion nymph I’d seen Torin punch.
She threw herself on the floor, hands clasped in front of her.
“Princess Kenna,” she called out, “please accept this humble servant in your household.”
“Princess Kenna,” someone else shouted, “I offer my service—”
More voices overlapped. “Princess Kenna!”
“Please—”
“Princess, I seek shelter—”
“My princess, I beg you—”
Awe filled me. Kallen had been right. The melee last night—even if it had ended with my throat slit—had enhanced my reputation. It wasn’t enough for a leader to be kind; the Fae needed their rulers to be strong.
I raised my hand for silence. The chatter instantly cut off.
How surreal. There was power in the smallest flick of my fingers now.
“I’m honored you chose to come to Blood House today,” I told the gathering.
“We are a safe haven for anyone in need of shelter, regardless of prior house affiliation—so long as you are willing to renounce your previous ties and swear allegiance to me.”
I recognized some of the faces from Earth House as minor nobles, and I’d wager the Fae from Light and Illusion House were, too.
The highest-ranking faeries stayed close to the center of power, and I couldn’t offer them the same influence they already enjoyed.
Those with less power had less to lose, though, and if they were already discontented in their houses, this was a rare opportunity.
A new house, a new princess, and a chance for a new rank in the Fae’s strict hierarchy.
It was early in the morning, and I’d just been planning on a quick walk to get my blood pumping and my mind working before facing a new day and new obligations—among them a meeting with Hector, which he’d requested late last night.
I needed help to process these new house members, so I formed a thought and sent it into the house’s web of magic. Wake Lady Lara.
The house hummed in my mind. The message would already be speeding to her on invisible threads, and hopefully those quivering vibrations would rouse her from sleep.
“I also need to meet with each of you individually,” I told the faeries. “We’re different from the other houses, and I must be certain you’re a good fit—and that you’ll treat the humans and Underfae here with respect.”
That earned a few startled looks. Well, best for them to learn this now, while they still had a chance to back out.
Caedo was curled into a thick cuff at my wrist. I willed the dagger to shift into its favorite form, then raised the weapon.
The jewel in the hilt shone the saturated red of the last slice of sunset.
“Do not mistake my policy of welcome for weakness,” I called out.
“We will not be used or abused by the other houses, and we will not use or abuse each other for that same reason. Just as I will punish any outsiders who think to harm a member of Blood House, I will not hesitate to retaliate against any of you who do the same.”
There were scattered nods at that. The nymph still kneeling on the floor looked at me worshipfully.
I heard footsteps and turned to see Lara, who must have already been getting breakfast, given the speed of her arrival. She looked sleepy and annoyed—until she set eyes on the gathering. Then her posture straightened and her chin raised into a regal angle.
I faced the crowd once more. “Let the interviews begin.”
We were at it for hours. Many of the faeries were nervous about being seen in case word made it back to their houses and their leaders decided to retaliate before they had gained my protection, so I opened a few rooms off the ramp leading to Blood House for them to wait in.
Then I sent messages to Void and Fire House requesting assistance.
Drustan sent Edric, who positioned himself at the top of the slope leading towards Fire House and cast a wall of flame so no one could pass through or spy on what we were doing. Kallen himself came from Void House and did the same at the lower end of the ramp, erecting a barrier of cold shadow.
With the ramp sealed off, the faeries relaxed and opened up more, though they were still obviously nervous.
The Underfae all had stories I’d heard before—abuse by Osric, Roland, Rowena, or Torin; family members lost to draconian punishments; fear that Imogen might become the same sort of monster Osric had been.
Word was spreading among the servants that Blood House was a safe haven, and after seeing me cut Torin last night, these ones finally felt brave enough to take a chance on me.
Many of the Noble Fae had similar tales of despair, fury, and loss.
The first interview was with a Light lord whose consort had been beheaded by Roland after he’d been overheard complaining about the king’s wards.
Seeing that Torin was cut from the same cruel cloth, he’d decided it was time to give up on the dream of justice Light House promised.
After that, we spoke with an Earth faerie I recognized but knew little about.
His name was Wilkin, and he’d been a quiet figure around the house, spending most of his time tending a garden filled with white blossoms. He’d been in love with a Light lady centuries ago, he told us with tears in his eyes; when their child had been discovered and torn away from them, they’d both been publicly flogged.
Prince Roland had followed up with his own punishment, but he’d gone too far, and the lady hadn’t survived.
Wilkin had planted the garden in her memory the next day.
Oriana had told him he was lucky not to be punished worse for siring a changeling—and that he was never to let his heart lead him astray again. Then she’d complimented his beautiful white flowers and ordered him to cut a handful for her.
Lara nearly cried with him. I knew she was thinking of her brother Leo and the tragic end he had come to. When Wilkin hesitantly opened his bag to reveal a small rosebush, the roots packed with dirt, she told him we would find the perfect spot for his new garden.
Another heartbreaking interview was with an Illusion lady who had been raped by Osric.
She told me with bitter fury that every time she walked past the music room where it had happened, she swore she could smell his perfume, and she was tired of living with his ghost. Tired of living with the memories, too, of how her family had seen the abuse as an opportunity to gain influence.
When the story was done, I gripped her hand and told her there were other survivors in Blood House who knew that pain, and she wasn’t alone.
Not all the Noble Fae had suffered. One young Illusion lord told me he was tired of being ignored by higher-ranking faeries and wanted a chance to prove himself to a new leader.
A scholarly Light lady wanted to devote herself to medicine, rather than her family’s business in training executioners.
And a pregnant Earth faerie and her partner told us they had already been disillusioned with Oriana’s commitment to neutrality and had decided after the melee that the Earth princess wasn’t strong enough to protect her people.
Soon, Blood House had nearly seventy new members.
Nadine and Lara began showing the new arrivals to their rooms, and the kitchen servants moved quickly to prepare food for a grand luncheon.
Looking at the quantity of ingredients piled on the worktables, I felt a twinge of worry about the house continuing to manufacture so much out of its reserves.
The infusion of new magic we’d gotten would help, but we needed to start supplementing with actual meat and crops.
There were empty livestock stalls near the grain stores, as well as chambers that glowed with the light of a mystical sun, but we needed cows and sheep, seeds to plant, and fresh soil to add to the packed earth floors.
Triana had been chopping vegetables—she still insisted on staying busy—but when she noticed my frown, she set down the knife and came over. “What is it?” she signed.
I shared my thoughts, signing since I wanted to limit who might overhear any concerns.
She shook her head. “Always a new worry. You should delegate that to Nadine.”
“Nadine has plenty to do.” The dryad was always on the move, setting a structure and schedule for the growing ranks of servants.
“If she’s too busy, she’ll know who can help.” Triana eyed me worriedly. “You work too hard. You need to rest sometimes.”
That got a tired laugh out of me. “Maybe when I’m dead.”
Nadine popped her head around the door. “You have a delivery, my princess.”
I swore under my breath as I hurried outside. What now? At this rate, I’d be busy with unexpected visitors all day long, and Hector would never see me.
My irritation faded when I saw Aidan waiting beneath the Blood Tree with an enormous basket of sunset-hued flowers at his feet. “Wait a moment,” he said, holding up a finger when I would have run over to him. “It’s going to do something.”
I looked down at the offering, baffled. The flowers smelled like cinnamon and citrus, and they were nestled in a bed of jagged orange crystals, each of which had a tiny flame burning at its heart.
Aidan pulled a stone out of his pocket, bent over to smack it against one of the crystals, then stepped back.