Chapter Twenty
Twenty
We spend the rest of the afternoon working on the tunnel. I can still barely muster even the simplest of rituals on my own. But by the end of it, I have nearly completed an entire lantern by myself. While the rest of them carved out the tunnel and the rough hollow of what will be the escape hall.
In all, Oren, Giles, Davien, and I leave triumphant. We walk back through the city, since Giles cannot fly. Which gives me more time to drink in the sights and sounds of Dreamsong.
“It really is magnificent,” I say thoughtfully. I’ve spent only a few days here, and yet I feel like I’ve known this place for a century. Time seems to pass differently in Midscape, slower. Though I think I feel that way only because every hour of every day has been life-changing.
“What is?” Davien asks. Oren and Giles are still behind us, debating the instructions in the ritual book and discussing what else they absolutely must complete before tomorrow, when they have to return it to the crafter they borrowed it from.
“Everything in this world. How every home is tailor-made, unique, crafted by the hands of those who live there. The smells of fae food, how it singes the nose with spice and citrus. Even your sunsets are more beautiful…until the mountains cut them off.”
Davien chuckles. “Yes. It’s good to finally be home.” A frown briefly crosses my lips. He misreads the expression. “You’ll be home soon enough too. Especially with the rate you’re managing to manipulate the king’s magic. Soon you’ll be able to abdicate it to me without issue.”
“That’s not what…” I quickly abandon the objection.
I wasn’t envious of him. I was sad at the idea that he would be here and I would have to return to that cold and so painfully normal world on the other side of the Fade.
How do I communicate that to him when I am barely willing to admit it to myself?
“Yes. That’ll be for the best. And when that happens, I’ll go back to the human world and live in that manor alone. ”
The silence is heavy and surprisingly awkward.
“It doesn’t have to be alone,” he says finally and so tenderly I nearly break.
I look up at him, my heart tripping over what I hope he’ll say next: I could come with you, my mind tries to fill in for him.
But instead, he says, “You would be considered a widow by your laws. No one will know what’s happened.
Say I was lost in the woods; I made the letter ambiguous enough.
You could find a proper human companion to spend your days with and no one would question you. ”
“I find I can’t stand most humans,” I mumble.
He hears me and laughs. “And fae are better?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I seem to have a better track record of getting along with fae.” I think back to our conversation about friends earlier.
“You just think that because you’re forced to be with us.” He grins.
“No. I’m perfectly capable of hating you while being forced to be with you.
In fact, forcing me to be with someone usually means I end up hating the person more.
” I think of Joyce and Helen. They might have been my family, but that didn’t stop them from being the wardens of my prison.
I had no trouble hating them while loving Laura.
“I was prepared to hate you when you first bought my hand in marriage.”
He laughs. “I must admit I was afraid of that happening. I had told myself it didn’t matter, that you were a means to an end…but I was very glad when you didn’t. I never wanted you to or relished putting you in that position.”
There’s not a bit of smoke. He’s telling the truth, as always.
I inhale the fresh air and exhale all the lingering ill will from our rocky start—both in the Natural World and here in Midscape.
He did offer much in exchange for me and even tried to look after me when he thought he was leaving without me.
“I was thrilled by the idea that you didn’t hate me too. For whatever a human’s opinion is worth.”
“A human’s opinion? Not much,” he says casually.
Then Davien turns those eyes toward me and I know in that moment he’s going to break my heart before this is all over.
Whatever pieces are still left to be broken.
“But your opinion, Katria…I’m finding your opinion is worth more and more by the minute.
Worth more than all the lost magics of the vampir in the southeast and all the ancient powers swirling in the mer waters of the north. ”
Is it just my imagination or are our steps slowing? Are we walking a bit closer together, our shoulders brushing when they weren’t before? I swallow thickly. A thousand questions burn on my tongue.
What I want to ask is: Will you hurt me like the rest of them?
What I ask instead is: “Why did you bequeath that manor to me? Oren and the others said it was your family’s lost estate.
Why wouldn’t you keep it for yourself?” I need to know if he was as well intentioned as I am giving him credit for.
“I’ll have a whole castle in the High Court and all the land of the fae wilds. The least I can do is give something to the woman who helped me reclaim my birthright.” He glances at me. “Granted, that decision was made before you messed up the ritual.”
“Lucky for me I have that letter in your handwriting back at the manor, I guess,” I tease lightly and nudge his shoulder with mine.
He chuckles again, leaning back toward me.
“Will you come and visit me?” The words escape as a whisper.
I think he doesn’t hear me and I’m ready to abandon the question.
I shouldn’t have asked. It was foolish. I open my mouth to change the topic when, to my surprise, he answers.
“If I’m able.”
Fae can’t lie. He would come and see me. Even after he’s the Fae King. Though…it also wasn’t a resounding yes. Was the sentiment another one of those half-truths of the fae?
Our conversation is cut short by the sounds of music and singing. I look ahead along the cobblestone road. “What’s that?”
“Oh, I suppose that starts tonight,” Davien murmurs with a small smile.
“What does?”
“The first feast celebrating the coming end of autumn and the arrival of winter. It’s been so long since I observed any fae holidays.”
“Feasts for autumn?” I ask.
“Yes, we revel in all the changes of our earth, especially after the long winters during the Human Queen’s absence.
Come, Katria, let me show you more of my world.
” He holds out a hand, expectant. I hesitate, but only for a second, and then I take it.
His warm fingers close around mine and I follow the line of his arm to a broad shoulder and then to the sharp cut of his jaw—the delicate curve of his lips. What would it be like to kiss them?
No! The protective part of my mind objects. I can’t think that way. That’s how you end up hurt. That’s how you end up in love. That’s how your world gets taken over by another.
But that voice is weaker by the moment. Maybe I can go into this with my eyes open. Maybe, if I accept that if this is nothing more than a casual infatuation, I’ll keep my head and my heart. I won’t get hurt.
It sounds like lies in my mind, but his hand is so soft. His smile is so infectious. The way he looks at me, as though I am the only woman alive, is a thrill greater than any I have ever known, and together we rush toward the large square in front of the main hall of Dreamsong.
Merchants have moved their usual stalls from the markets to line the square. All manner of food and drink has been spread upon them. Some still have wares laid out, but I see no money changing hands.
In the center of the square, there’s a platform where a band plays.
Dancers covered in billowing silks move like the wind, carried along by the thrumming of the drum.
Fae mingle, laughing, singing, and dancing.
Some dance overhead, twirling in gravity-defying waltzes, the shimmering magic of their wings cascading down toward the earth like the tails of dying fireworks.
“This way.” Davien leads me through the mass of people.
I take a step closer to him to whisper, “Davien, why don’t they part for you?”
“Part for me?”
“I thought people would show more deference to a king.”
Comprehension flashes across his face. “Yes, usually…but I’ve been gone for so long, and only a handful of Vena’s most loyal assistants know who I am. My identity has largely been hidden to help keep us safe, especially since I am still more vulnerable without my magics.”
Us, not me. My chest tightens. The doubts that plagued me grow weaker and weaker in the face of this wild fantasy I’m starting to indulge in with him in this magic place.
“Does it bother you?” I ask.
“Should it?”
“That’s not an answer,” I point out.
“You’re growing accustomed to the fae phrasings faster than I would like.” He chuckles.
“Such hardship for you.” I smirk. “You struck me as wanting to be king. So I would think that them not showing you proper respect would upset you.”
A thoughtful expression relaxes his brow. His lips part for a soft sigh and fall into an easy smile. He runs a hand through his hair. I watch as every silken strand cascades back into place, the braids he’s woven through it snagging slightly on his fingers.
“I think there will be years for me to enjoy the trappings of kingship. For now, I want to see this world as an ordinary man—as much as I can be ordinary—to understand the struggles of my people. To feel their needs as I live among them. And even when I am king, I should hope that my subjects see me as a man as much as their king. As someone with his own hopes and dreams and desires.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. “What is it?”
I hadn’t even realized we’d stopped walking. The square has faded away. The squeals of laughter? Gone. All that remains is him and the music in a triumphant symphony.
“I think you’ll be a great king.” I really do. So why does my chest ache? Why am I already feeling the edges of a hurt I was trying to avoid?