Chapter 35
“ I was having the most wonderful dream.” I sigh, leaning back into the cloud-soft mattress.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?” Ruskin’s deep voice rumbles against my neck, as he kisses his way along it, then travels down across my collarbone.
“I dreamed I was in bed with my husband, a ravishingly handsome king, and we didn’t have to go anywhere all day .”
My breath hitches on the last few words, as Ruskin’s mouth finds a particularly sensitive patch of skin and he turns his attention to it. His strong hands skirt the angles of my hips, tracing a familiar route across the planes of my body. I don’t think there’s an inch of me he hasn’t touched or kissed or stroked in the last twelve hours. Since we came home to the palace, every night has been a honeymoon, and every morning a battle to tear ourselves from each other’s sides.
“I have been known to make certain dreams come true,” Ruskin says, bracketing me with his arms, looking down at me with a mischievousness that’s almost totally irresistible.
Almost.
“Unfortunately, it will have to wait,” I say, wriggling out from underneath him, and sliding over to the edge of the bed.
“Says who?” Ruskin demands. He wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me back down so fast I laugh in surprise. “I’m the king,” he says, kissing me so soundly I nearly forget all my well-planned arguments. “I thought I made the rules around here.”
I extricate myself again, reluctantly.
“This was partly your idea,” I remind him. He groans and gives in, also rising from the bed so we can get ready for the day.
“I blame the Unseelie,” he says, as I rifle through my Destan-stocked wardrobe to find something suitable.
“Oh? And what’s their fault in all this?”
“It’s the way they do some things too well. It’s inspired me, given me ideas, and then I have to go and actually see those ideas through.”
I tut, playing along with his false exasperation. “How dare they. You’ll have to write a complaint to your uncle.”
Lisinder and Ruskin have been keeping up a steady correspondence, catching up for lost time, debating politics and philosophy, and making hundreds of plans to cement the peace—real peace—between the kingdoms.
As we get ready, I feel my nerves start to build. What we’re about to do is no small thing. If it goes as planned, it could change history, but it requires a certain leap of faith for all of us—me, Ruskin, the court, and the rest of the Seelie fae.
As we approach the throne room, I can see through the open doors that everyone has gathered as we requested, curious faces craning to watch our approach. My heart flutters against my ribs.
“You’ll be magnificent,” Ruskin says quietly, and I give him an appreciative look.
I feel all eyes on us as we walk to the center of the chamber, stopping short of the podium that leads to two thrones. I struggle to imagine myself ever sitting in the one meant for me. Happily, Ruskin doesn’t seem to have much of a taste for it either. Right now, however, we arrange ourselves on either side of a massive black stone—the same stone that once again carries Ruskin’s name, carefully concealed.
I doubt there’s anyone in the room who can’t feel the founding stone’s power. It throbs through you like a drum, causing the large crowd to hush. I found the stone’s power intimidating once, but now it’s oddly familiar. When I fought Evanthe, it saved us—and now we’re going to ask it to help the Seelie Kingdom once again.
I scan the room, taking comfort in the faces of my friends and allies. There’s Destan with Dreidana at his side—the Unseelie Low Fae he became close to during our stay there. He’s invited her to come visit him here at the palace, and I suspect he’s enjoying his family’s vocal disapproval of the match more than he should.
The one face I might miss is Dad’s, but I know he’s happy where he is. It took me a while to learn that Faerie is where I’m meant to be, but I knew all along it’s not where Dad should be. Instead, he’s back home in a warm, refurnished cottage in our village, where I can safely visit him, now that the seated king of Styrland has no interest in hunting me down.
“We’re here today because none of you have seen this before,” Ruskin announces, touching the stone. “The very foundation of the Seelie Court, the basis of this kingdom’s power, and it’s been hidden away from the fae who make up that kingdom. But from today, this stone will not just be for the monarchs, but for the court too.”
Some of the fae exchange intrigued looks, while others simply stare at the stone in awe.
“Lady Eleanor,” Ruskin says to me. “If you will proceed.”
I lick my lips, preparing myself. This better work.
I close my eyes, blocking out distractions, and focus on the stone. I reach out for the rich seams of augium running through it like veins. When I find them, I flood them with my magic, pushing pressure through the ore, until the stone begins to vibrate, just like how I made the Unseelie mountains shake.
A low humming gradually grows louder, the pressure I’m exerting reaching a level the stone cannot endure.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the pressure drops. An almighty crack rings through the chamber, and the stone splits in two right through the center. The break releases a huge wave of energy, one that I’m sure could knock us all flat, but it hits a wall of organic matter that wasn’t there a moment ago: a gnarled barrier of thick, interconnected trees, thrown up by Ruskin around the stone.
When the impact has passed, the trees Ruskin threw together disappear back beneath the earth as various voices start to murmur. Some sound indignant—others sound afraid. We’ve just done something unimaginable, right before everyone’s eyes, and we’re not finished yet.
I hold up my hands to the shocked, angry faces. “Please don’t worry, it won’t remain broken.”
At least it better not, if we’re going to keep our heads. I’m not under any illusions that I’m a beloved queen, but as long as I don’t mess up too spectacularly, I believe that the Seelie Court will eventually come to accept me. Still, I have to fix their stone first.
That part is actually easier than I expect. The ore warms to the touch of my magic, eager to be reunited with its source as I use it to begin resealing the crack. The metal flows through the break I’ve created, binding the two pieces of rock back together again. And all the while I communicate with the ancient presence of the stone, guiding it, altering its purpose and reshaping it into something new.
It was only a few days ago that the idea came to me. Fresh off the battlefield, I was wondering how I might tame some of the brutality in this world and change it for the better. The thought had reminded me of Jorna’s prophecy and how it hadn’t come true. The foundation of Seelie hadn’t been broken—yet. And I realized that perhaps rather than fearing that break as a disaster…maybe I should use it as an opportunity. Maybe the stone needed to be broken.
The stone didn’t always serve the monarch; it was shaped by the magic of those who dug it up. Millennia later, I didn’t see why we couldn’t change that again, creating a new stone for a new age. Now, as I manipulate the ore, I ask the stone to shift and expand the scope of its magic, to open itself up to fae High and Low. I think it’s receptive as it seals itself closed before growing cool and solid once more.
I surreptitiously wipe a bead of sweat from my neck and step back, admiring my work.
“What did you do?” asks Destan, looking fascinated.
“I asked it to reshape itself to serve not just as a test for potential monarchs, but for everyone who wishes to be part of the Seelie Court. I asked it to only reward those who it considers worthy with its magic.”
“Is that safe?” asks Lord Zastel.
“How do you know you wouldn’t break it for good?” demands a blue-haired fae before I can answer the first question.
“Because this is as it’s meant to be,” announces Ephor Jorna, freshly returned from her stay in Unseelie. She’s carrying a large scroll with her, which she taps for emphasis now. “Ephor Novan foretold it. The founding stone had to be broken. It was inevitable.”
This seems to go some way to setting more of the fae at ease. Like it or not, they put stock in Jorna’s words. I give her a grateful nod.
“Times are changing,” Ruskin announces, his commanding voice filling the room, and silencing the crowd. “The Low Fae fought against Evanthe Dawnsong when other members of this court wouldn’t, and they rode into battle to save their kingdom. Gone are the days when we let blood alone dictate someone’s place in this kingdom. From now on, both Low and High Fae may be admitted to the Seelie Court.”
A rumble goes through the crowd. I knew this would be controversial, but Ruskin and I aren’t afraid of trouble, and we both stand confidently now, ignoring the occasional expressions of anger in the crowd.
“To be admitted to the Seelie Court you must pledge allegiance to the founding stone, rather than to the monarch,” Ruskin says. “We have seen how individual rulers can be fallible and dangerous. Though I hope I will always honor my duty as monarch to Seelie, most of all it is the people of this kingdom that make it strong.”
My eyes fall on the Sunshards. Halima’s mother stands wearing Halima’s sword. Protecting the court over the king was Halima’s philosophy too, and I don’t think it will steer us wrong now.
“The stone will then test you to see if you are worthy. If you are, it will accept your allegiance,” Ruskin continues.
“But what does ‘worthy’ mean?” asks Lady Naniva nervously.
“In the Unseelie Kingdom they also hold trials for membership to their court. They test their fae for their core tenets of honor and strength.” He pauses. “We are not the Unseelie, but the Seelie Court must also have a strong set of values to guide us. The absence of them has made us vulnerable to being undermined from inside and out. So the stone will test for two traits: wisdom and loyalty.”
Ruskin and I discussed this the longest, finding the values that we thought the existing court most often overlooked. But with these at the center of the new Seelie Kingdom, our hope is that the infighting and injustice that has plagued the court can finally be curbed. Evanthe had been right about some things. The Seelie Court needed to change, but together Ruskin and I are going to do it our way.
“Everyone, even those who did not choose to fight with me against Evanthe, even those who currently languish in our cells, will be allowed to make the pledge and take the stone’s test.”
“We already have our first candidate for the pledge,” I announce, searching the crowd for a familiar wisp of white hair. “Tesha, would you please come forward?”
She’s been almost glued to the Sunshards since she arrived in Faerie, but the changeling now steps out from between the two warriors. She stares, wide-eyed, at the crowd around her. I hold out my hand encouragingly.
“Tesha thanks her,” she says, as she takes my hand and I draw her close to the founding stone.
“No need for thanks, Tesha,” I smile, warmed by the look of excitement and hope on the changeling’s face. “I’m simply repaying the favor of a friend.”
The changeling kneels in front of the stone, her hands ghosting the surface with reverence.
“Go ahead,” I say, and she lays her long fingers on its black surface. She closes her eyes, and though she doesn’t need to speak any words aloud, I can see her lips moving. Eventually, they still and there’s a moment of silence, in which I pray to the stars that stone has understood what we’re asking of it.
Flowers, bright and blousy, spring up around Tesha where she kneels on the floor, a small meadow of reds, yellows, and blues. Tesha opens her eyes, gently touching one of the blooms with a look of wonder, and some of the court spontaneously clap, moved by the stone’s gift to her. I suspect Tesha will not be the only fae it decides to bestow some magic on, though who and what form that will take remains a mystery I look forward to solving.
Tesha returns to the Sunshards, and we invite the rest of those gathered to make their pledge. Some of the High Fae fight their way to the front, as if afraid the stone might run out of energy by the time it’s their turn, but I’m pleased to see the Low Fae stepping up too.
As the fae form a long line in front of the stone, I move back against an empty patch of wall, releasing a long exhale. My work is done, at least for now. There’s still a lengthy, daunting road ahead, but I’ll have one person beside me for it all.
Ruskin’s arm brushes against mine, and I lean lightly into him, soaking up his warmth.
“Well done for the quick thinking with the shield,” I murmur. His hand hangs down by his side and I trace his palm lightly with my fingers. “But then I suppose that’s to be expected from a Solskir .” I say his true name so lightly under my breath that it could be a sigh. I’m joking, teasing him, but even as I say it, I realize it’s true.
Once, a long time ago, I only saw Ruskin Blackcoat as a taker, someone who destroyed and diminished. His real self has unraveled to me, but the process was as slow as thawing ice. It kept my curiosity alive, waiting for the day when I can look into his eyes and know I’m seeing the real him.
That day has come and gone without me being able to pinpoint it, blurring into a thousand small shifts in the way we trust and love each other. My curiosity will never truly dim—I’ll always want to know more of him, want to see his reaction to everything the world holds. But I know the core of him now, and he is, at heart, a protector. Someone who will do whatever they must in order to keep what matters safe: his court, his loved ones, and now the peace between Seelie and Unseelie.
“If we’re speaking about living up to our true names, you’re one to talk,” Ruskin murmurs back to me. “Going around slicing things apart, Lunasworn .”
I smile, the name no longer bothering me. I’m glad I had the strength and power at my disposal to fight for Faerie, but eventually I realized that being a “sword of the moon” did not have to be the violent label I had imagined.
Because I’m still me. I’m not a warrior like the Sunshards, or a leader like Ruskin, or even someone who makes the world more beautiful, like Destan. At heart, I’m an inventor, a tinkerer, and experimenter. It’s in my nature to ask questions, to take things apart to learn how they work, and to try to see them from a fresh angle. Once I remembered that, it became obvious to me that there’s more than one use for a sword.
I intertwine my fingers with Ruskin’s, feeling a bone-deep contentment wash through me.
A blade can be a weapon, sure, but it can also be used to cut the bindings that hold people back.
It can also be used to set them free.