Chapter 14 – Vale #3
Fitting as my mate was a rare thing herself.
Singular, in my eyes. More than seeking novelty, however, I suspected Neve wished to know what the common folk thought of her family.
It would be too hasty to request a song about House Falk or House Skau, but the Unification was thousands of turns past and during that time, Queen Sassa Falk had been instrumental in crafting the realm as it now stood.
No one would blink an eye over such a ballad.
Itham took to the stage where a small band waited behind him. He waved the others to quiet, intent on taking the stage for himself. The others leaned back, and the bard wasted no time in beginning to strum. Chatter eased, and many turned to watch the showman as he sang.
In song, his high pitch rang like a bell through the tavern. Chills ran along my arms, raising the flesh there into small bumps.
I’d never heard the song he sang before, but it began with Queen Sassa demanding that the old kings and queens of Winter’s Realm bend the knee.
At first, the old royals of the land did not comply.
For that, Queen Sassa put a lord of House Qiren to flame, and a lady of House Ithamai lost her head.
Of the most powerful eight families only House Lisika knelt without argument and that was down to the king consort of the time being a Lisika himself.
But as the Shadow Fae invaded our land and ravaged Winter’s Realm, one by one, the once-great scions of this kingdom saw that only the Falk and Lisika lands were being spared.
Protected effectively. Some said mysteriously.
One by one, those kings and queens hit their knees before the unifier Sassa Falk and prayed to the stars that the House of the White Hawk might turn the hands of fate.
And she did. Queen Sassa’s forces swept into all corners of the realm and beat back the Shadow Fae.
She fought with the common soldiers, with those who grew the realm’s food and tended livestock and built homes and sailed ships to bring back uncommon goods.
She stood alongside anyone who could wield a weapon well enough, brandishing her own to save their lives as much as hers.
For all that, the commonfae loved her, flocked to her, and where the Unifier Queen fought, shadows vanished.
Light prevailed again. No one knew how, but the Shadow King and Queen and their armies fell against Sassa.
The day the shadows disappeared from Isila was the first day of peace our kingdom had known in many turns. A war of utter destruction, followed by the dawn of a new peace.
The enemies were gone. Blood no longer stained the snow. And each house had kept true to their word to serve House Falk.
That was, until King Magnus’s Rebellion.
Itham, however, did not go that far into the timeline. His song ended with Queen Sassa dying in her bed. At peace, her family beside her, the realm still united.
Silence rang through the tavern, so incongruent in a place that had been raucous before the tune began. The moment my wife clapped, others followed suit in a slow and gentle way. It seemed as though they weren’t sure if they should be applauding at all with us present.
“That one was for the lovely Princess Neve.” The bard gestured to our table, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Now, how about a song for the working fae? Those of sweet Eygin? Something lively to get the blood pumping?”
Cheers rang up, and the bard snapped his fingers, to which the band leaned forward. Flutes and tambourines and the bard’s stringed instrument filled the air a heartbeat later. It took no longer than that for the fae to stand and run to the small space in front of the stage.
Young and old alike danced, some more spryly than others.
Many more than the bard bore signs that the blight of Winter had left a mark on their bodies and their lives, the most common of which were fae with deformed wings.
And though remembering the blight almost always put me in a sour mood, the sight before me warmed my heart.
No doubt, many of these people lived a hard life. In much of Winter’s Realm, there was little other way to live. But they seized happiness as often as they could, where they could, and their joy was infectious.
“Let’s dance!” Anna tugged on Caelo’s arm. “You too Neve and Vale.”
I looked at my mate, who grinned.
“You’ll have to teach me the common dances. Clem only informed me of the courtly ones.”
“We’ll be learning together,” I said.
“Speak for yourself.” Caelo stood and offered his arm to Anna. “I could dance this in my sleep.”
“Then we’ll follow your lead.”
We took to the floor and Caelo, the cocky bastard, showed us and everyone else in the tavern how adept he was at the common dances. I snorted as he grabbed Anna by the waist, lifted her and spun. The human squealed, and Neve laughed before turning to me.
“Well, aren’t you going to spin me?”
I lifted my mate, breathing in her intoxicating scent as we spun, and she laughed. Around us, villagers cheered and clapped, happy to see others happy. Caelo set Anna down, so I did too and soon enough we lost ourselves in the music, the dance,
I didn’t care that I was likely doing it wrong.
My friends were having fun, as was my mate.
We had coin to fund our trip, and we were on our way to safety.
The fae of the village danced with us, beaming and singing and laughing.
A few looked as though they were working up the courage to ask Neve to dance.
My mating bond hummed inside, but when I caught Neve staring up at me, her eyes only for me, I relaxed.
A villager might ask her to dance, and if she wished to do so, I’d allow it—with a stipulation that the dance partner keep his hands to himself—but she was mine.
And I was hers. My bond might insist on possession, but when it came to our love, we had nothing to worry about.
Neve beamed. “No serious thoughts. Be with me, Vale. Dance with me.”
I brushed aside a stray lock of her hair and looked her in the eyes, committing this moment to memory. “I’m with you. Always, with you.”