Chapter 47
Elorie
Since returning to the palace, I’ve been locked in my room with no training. No visitors. Each sunrise, I wait for the king to fetch me, but no one comes besides the guard who brings me food. When I reach for Wilder through the thread, he’s not there.
It isn’t closed; there’s simply distance.
While I feared what the king would do when I returned from Solace, this wasn’t what I anticipated. He’s shut me away entirely. Preserving me for the Rite.
What if the next time I see Wilder is when I choose King Malachi?
My stomach spins no matter how hard I press my palm to it. I’ve been staring down at my bed for the last few minutes. Ever since the same guard who brings me my food brought me a box wrapped in white silk.
I’m shaking as I peel back the lid, not sure what I’ll find. To my surprise, it’s a dress unlike anything I’ve seen before.
The black fabric is thin and soft, shimmering with gems so small and iridescent they remind me of stars in the night sky. It’s sheer in places, and the silk is smoother than any I’ve felt before. It moves as if it’s liquid, absorbing light where it folds and reflecting it where it sparkles.
I hold the dress up to my body, and it’s like it’s been sewn for my every curve.
Slipping it up my body, I find the panels in front perfectly hide the scars on my ribs, while still showing off a hint of the sides of my breasts.
It waves at my hips, hugging them but also moving with them. It’s stunning.
Tonight, I’ve finally been summoned for dinner, and so I assume the king must want me presentable in preparation for the Rite.
But when I lift the folded paper at the bottom of the box, my heart races at the message written on it.
A dress cut from the night sky.
Just like you, my Starfire.
-W
My Starfire.
A sentiment that promises more than I can offer in return.
I brush my fingers over the silk, and I swear it’s woven with a kiss of magic.
Turning to the mirror, I toy with the slit in my dress, which is lined with thin, beaded strands that decorate the edge all the way to my hip.
They swoop along my bare leg. The black silk draws out the blue in my hair, which is wavy from my bath.
A braid ties it off my face on each side, while another cascades over the front of my shoulder.
If Letia could see me now, she wouldn’t believe it.
This dress, these cheeks, burning at the thought that I’ll see Wilder tonight, make me glow.
We have one more moment before the Rite.
I press my fingers to my cheeks, patting them, trying to bury the flush when a knock sounds at my door.
“Come in.”
The door swings open as Callum pops his head in. He meets my gaze across the space, slipping inside and closing the door behind him. His silver Crown Guard armor has been replaced by an all-black set. Perfectly polished and decorated with medals and pins.
“Look at you.” I smile, turning to face him.
His eyes fall down my body, taking me in. “Look at you. You’re beautiful, Elorie.”
I hold the sides of my dress and curtsy. “Thank you.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. His nearly black hair is slicked back, but he runs his fingers through it like he does when he’s nervous, tousling it around.
“That dress is…” He swallows hard, shaking his head.
"It’s a gift from Wilder.” I glance away to avoid any judgment that might shine in his eyes. “Letia would go wild for it, don’t you think?”
Tension loosens from his shoulder as he steps farther into the room. “She would trade you three sets of leathers for it.”
“I would make that trade.” I smile.
My heart pinches with reminders of Letia. So much has changed these past few weeks that sometimes my life on Alyssium feels like it’s not real. Like those memories were a dream, made up in my head.
The long days in the market and snowy nights at the tavern.
Arguments over watery wine and Letia trying to convince me to wear something other than my worn leather pants.
A lifetime of memories that ache inside me.
I can’t imagine how centuries feel to the Fae.
“Where has everyone been?” I ask Callum. “No one has stopped by except to bring me food. Not even Greer.”
The same guard with red hair and strange purple eyes shows up at my door three times a day to check in on me. He keeps me fed but refuses to answer any questions.
“You don’t know?” Callum’s eyebrow quirks, and his smile slowly grows.
“Wilder put some magic barrier around your room. The wing, actually. No one can get through it unless he lets them. King Malachi nearly destroyed half the palace in a fit of rage. They’re still cleaning up the mess, even with magic. ”
My eyes widen. “Wilder did that? Why?”
“Why do you think, Elorie?” Callum smirks.
“But you’re here.”
He shrugs. “Guess he doesn’t see me as a threat.”
My chest swells, and I don’t know what to make of what Wilder has done. He must have sensed my unease returning from Solace, my worry for what the king might want. So he found a way to protect me.
And here I am, preparing to participate in a Rite that will doom everyone he cares about.
“Don’t worry about the king,” Callum says in an attempt to be reassuring when the king isn’t who I’m worried about. “He’s busy preparing the palace for the Rite. We all are.”
No one has bothered to explain the details of the Rite, and while I should probably care, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to think about tomorrow night and what it will mean for me or Wilder.
Will the Rite change how I feel about him? Will we lose this thread that connects us entirely? Will I suddenly have stronger feelings for King Malachi?
Is the king capable of feeling anything for someone else? If his relationship with Selia is any indication, I doubt it.
For Alyssium, I remind myself.
For Letia. For her siblings.
For Mabel.
For everyone I’ve left behind who the Fae don’t care about. I fight for them.
Callum reaches for my hand. “It will be okay, Elorie. I’ll be here.”
“I know you will.” I squeeze back.
“I mean it. I’ll be here even when it’s done.”
“You aren’t going to return to Alyssium?” My eyebrows lift in surprise. “Assuming the Rite heals whatever is blocking passage? I know you don’t want to be a part of the royal court anymore.”
“I promised your father I’d protect you. I’ve failed you on that in more ways than I care to remember, but I’m not going to leave you alone in this.”
There’s sadness in his eyes, even as he toys with a strand of my hair.
“What about your father? You can’t avoid him here.”
He shrugs. “I’ll survive.”
“And your mother? You never talk about her.”
“My mother is dead.” His hand falls to his side, and my heart sinks as he turns and paces toward the window.
With the glowing shell of magic, he can’t see through, but he stares at the glass anyway.
“Were you close with her?” I take a step, pausing when I realize he may not want to talk about it. “If you prefer I don’t bring her up, I understand.”
“It’s fine.” Pain swirls in his eyes when he glances at me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself think about her. I was still young when she died.”
“What’s young for a Fae?”
“Ten.”
My eyes widen. “You were truly young then.”
“I was.”
“How did she die?”
“It’s not a pleasant story.”
“Tell me anyway.” I frown.
Callum’s jaw is tense as he nods. “My father met my mother when he was working as an adviser to King Erdem. She was one of the late queen’s maids. They grew close, even though he resisted their relationship at first, knowing he’s always had difficulty with his magic.”
“Trouble wielding it?”
“Trouble containing it.” Callum’s jaw sets. “It’s common with shadow wielders. Remember what I told you about Hazel? Their magics aren’t the same—no two Fae’s are—but they’re similar in that shadows are difficult to control for any wielder. It’s been said they have a mind of their own.”
“I didn’t know magic could be sentient.”
Callum leans his hip against the desk. “Some don’t believe it can be. Many think it’s just an excuse for the destruction the wielder causes. But others say that the shadows whisper.”
“What do you think?”
“I think my father killed his mate in a blackout rage, and that shouldn’t be possible.” His gaze drops to the floor, and my heart hammers. “Fae shouldn’t be able to kill their mate even under duress or manipulation. It’s the one absolute we have—the mating bond.”
My mouth is sand as I try to grasp what he’s saying. “Your father killed your mother?”
“He said the shadows took over. Maybe they did. Whenever he would get like that, the darkness in his eyes wasn’t him.”
“He was like that more than once?”
Callum’s gaze darkens as he slips into his memories. “There’s a reason Alyssium wasn’t a terrible place for me, Elorie. I’d take that frozen, magicless rock over many things.”
I walk over and reach for his hand. A simple offering after what he’s been through, but it’s all I have to give. We stand quietly, and I avoid showing pity, knowing that’s not what he wants. I’m simply here. A pillar of friendship when that’s hard to come by at the Ley Court.
“I don’t understand the laws of the Fae.” My words are nearly a whisper. “Why would they let him get away with that?”
“My father’s magic was indispensable during the war with Tierryn Mor. And then later, he saved Malachi’s life. King Erdem felt he owed him. As terrible as my father was to his family, he has never been anything but a beacon of loyalty to the Crown. That meant more to them than anything.”
“And you serve this Crown?”
“I serve my kingdom.” Callum’s shoulders push back, and he’s careful with his choice of words. “I serve the Fae who will suffer if I don’t look out for them. And for a long time, I served Alyssium and the humans who were without a home because their realm wasn’t reachable. That’s what I serve.”
With a final squeeze, Callum drops my hand. I’ve known him my entire life, yet I never knew this about him. Never understood that Alyssium was more than an obligation. It was an escape.
I’m not the only one who lost something when we left.
Callum clears his throat. “You don’t need to think about that right now. Dinner is soon.”
“As if anyone eats at those miserable things.”
“No, I suppose they don’t. I wanted to check on you, but I need to touch base with the Guard before tonight.”
“Go.” I wave him off. “I’ll be fine.”
He turns to leave, but I call after him before he gets the chance.
“Callum?” He glances over his shoulder. “I didn’t realize all the things you’d given up staying with me at the palace.
I shouldn’t have been so hard on you when we first came here.
I understand why you did it now. Why you kept these secrets, not knowing what would happen if the king found out I existed. I’m sorry for hating you for it.”
“Don’t do that, Elorie.” He shakes his head.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t talk to me like you’re saying goodbye.”
My throat tightens, and I nod once. I hadn’t meant it to come across that way. Or maybe I had. I don’t know what fate holds after the Rite. I spent so much time being angry at Callum. At Wilder. Even the king, although he might deserve some of it.
It’s none of their fault.
The Collision left us with impossible choices. Choices only I can make because of the blood in my veins.
“I’ll see you shortly,” I tell Callum.
He nods, not bothering with goodbyes. There will be time for that later. Up on an altar under the light of the full moon. I’ll make my promise to the people, to the crown, to myself.
If only I knew who I’ll be when this is done.