Chapter Two
The journey back to the palace happened in silence. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but it wasn't tense either. It felt like we were two ghosts, just purely existing.
Rhael rode ahead of me, on a stallion so black I was sure I would lose it, if the sky didn’t lighten. I followed behind, sat atop a horse ridden by one of his guards. My wrists remained shackled in the cold iron, my hands tingling and numb.
However, they had not gagged me, that was a positive. At least compared to previous experiences.
No one spared me more than a passing glance, not the guards, nor others who lingered in dark alleyways. Not even the early rising merchants who flattened themselves against stone walls as their King passed.
The market seemed to hold its breath and I was glad. The godforsaken place could suffocate, and I would not spare anyone a second thought. In truth, I wanted to see the place burn.
My gaze fixed on the King's back as I peered around the guard. The black tunic he wore clung to his broad shoulders with a sleek, predatory elegance. The fabric catching hints of the rising dawn like oil across water.
More than once, I watched as he drew the dark metal ring from his lower lip, between his teeth. His tongue brushing absently over the metal in a gesture that felt subconscious.
He did not look at me. At the auction, his silver eyes had cut through me as though I were the only living thing inside of the market. Now I was no more than cargo trailing in his wake.
My gaze lifted as we passed beneath towering archways of black stone, carved with ancient runes. They pulsed faintly as we rode, as if recognising their master. The air sharpened, growing thin with the cold and something metallic that prickled at the back of my throat.
Wind swept beneath the torn fabric of my dress, bursting over bruises and old scars, threatening to bare more than I would willingly offer.
I shifted again in an attempt to keep covered.
The guard before me snickered, and I made a mental note that if I ever got a chance, I would wipe the smirk off his thick, blockish head.
Before I could even speak, the palace revealed itself. The Obsidian Court rose from the earth, like it was being dragged from the depths of a nightmare. Black spires speared the morning sky, jagged and merciless.
No torches burned along their walls, instead crystal lanterns suspended in iron cradles. Faelight burning within them as if it were inhaling and exhaling slowly. Living without a soul.
The gates stood before us. Shaped like vast skeletal wings, protecting the palace and all those who dwelled within. They groaned open at our approach, metal shrieking in protest.
The sound crawled beneath my skin, raising the fine hairs along my arms, and making my breath falter. I had seen noble estates polished to gleaming excess, slept in slave quarters that reeked of rot. But never, had I been to a place like this.
Vaetharyn was a legend. Every Fae longed for an invitation to the place where the heart of them beat. Yet very few ever achieved the reward of making it inside.
We stepped into the courtyard and whispers erupted. Fae nobles descended marble steps in cascades of silk and velvet. Their faces flawless, every expression carved from cruelty and disdain. Their eyes fell on me instantly.
I knew what they would all see. A human girl in a dress too large for her, cinched at the waist with fraying elastic. Honey brown, braided hair at the nape of my neck, undone and wild. Green eyes staring forward with glassy, unwavering determination.
I was nothing special, definitely not worth notice of the King, in their eyes. I should have been left to rot. Part of me did not disagree with them.
Disgust flickered across features without restraint. It was expected, yet still it sparked something viscous in my chest. I imagined their silk catching fire, their perfect skin erupting in blisters and blackening until it was nothing but charred dust.
I did not say anything. Instead lifting my chin once again, refusing to let the weight of their emotions suffocate me. I had worn their hatred before, soon they would grow bored, or I would be sold on. The latter far more likely.
As riders began to dismount, I took a moment to look across the factions which had gathered. It was easy to tell which was which. Fae could be separated into four categories based on their magic and it impacted their very being.
The Elemental Fae stood draped in earth toned silks, faint currents of wind or ember light curling around their fingers.
The Weather Fae seemed to all cluster in a group. Their moods etched into the air, one woman's irritation stirring a cold breeze that rattled the crystal lanterns.
Light Fae stood in white from throat to heel, their expressions serene, their gazes sharp with judgment disguised as virtue.
Then there was the Dark Fae. Clad in black, watchful and judging. The same specialisation as the King. Magic always clung to them like a second skin. Every Fae I had ever feared, had been able to wield darkness.
I watched as Rhael dismounted in one fluid motion, as the whispers swelled towards chaos.
Speculation rippled through the air, had the King finally succumbed to madness?
To bring a new slave into the court was scandal enough.
To bring one who was human, mud streaked and defiant, was an insult to all those who bore witness.
He handed his reins to a waiting guard and ascended the steps without hesitation, never acknowledging the storm gathering at his back.
The guard who had been sitting on the horse before me gestured sharply, indicating that I was to follow. I swung my knees over and dropped to the cobblestones.
My knees buckled, the impact rattling through my bruised bones. I caught myself against the horse's flank, steadying myself and gaining balance. My wild hair fell across my face in tangled strands, and I quickly shoved it back awkwardly with bound hands.
Rhael, as if hearing me stumble behind him, turned sharply when he was halfway up the steps. His silver gaze locked onto mine, emotionless. Killing all whispers that lingered around the courtyard.
“Attend” the word rolled across the space, amplified by magic rather than volume.
A nearby steward startled violently before scrambling forward, bowing so low his forehead nearly brushed the marble.
The steward did not bear the sharp perfection of the Fae. His features were almost elven, fine boned but imperfect. A crooked nose marring an otherwise symmetrical face. It would make sense for him to be a creature other than Fae. After all, Fae did not serve. They ruled.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” The steward breathed, trembling visibly, three steps below the King.
“The human is under my protection, she will reside in the East Wing and accompany me when I desire it. Any who harm her, will answer to me directly,” Rhael said, each syllable deliberate. His gaze moving over the nobles like a blade.
When his eyes returned to me, a faint smirk ghosted across his mouth. As though he alone understood the game he had just begun.
Placing me under his protection meant two things.
One, I was untouchable and two, I belonged solely to him.
From the way I watched him toy with that infernal lip ring and the glint in his eyes, I suspected he relished in the thought of breaking me himself.
A challenge presented to a King who had never learned to refuse one.
“My King? What need do you have for a human? Surely there is no place for her in this court?” A bright, chiming voice called from somewhere behind me.
“She is to be my companion.” Rhael said after a brief silence. His eyes gleamed, not with anger but with a sense of mischief.
The courtyard erupted. Gasps, hissed protests, silk rustled amongst the crown like a nest of disturbed serpents.
All whilst I stood there dumbfounded and frozen to the spot.
Eyes narrowed and locked on the King, who seemed unbothered by chaos, and focused solely on enjoying every moment of my discomfort.
From auction block to companion of the Fae King, in the span of a single dawn.
“Escort her to her chambers. She is not to be touched. Not by word, spell or blade,” he thundered with authority, ignoring the outrage of his people.
The nobles bristled visibly, their fury barely contained as guards moved to flank me on all sides. They did not need to lay hands on me, their presence was command enough.
I glanced once back toward the gates, as they shut forever behind me.
Sealing me within black stone with cold intentions.
I craved to be outside of them; to be free, but I would not get that luxury, not unless I managed to convince the Fae King that I was not worth the bother he would get by keeping me around.
Rhael stepped aside as I passed him, already knowing I would not attempt to escape. I was reckless, defiant, foolhardy, but I was not stupid. As I drew level with him, our eyes met once more. His expression remained the same as it had been in the market.
Cold. Calculating. As if I were not a girl at all, but a puzzle he intended to unravel, a toy waiting to be broken under his powerful hands.