6. Timas
Chapter 6
Timas
M y robes drag slightly on the ground as I pace back and forth in front of the dining room doors, my hands clasped behind my back as I scan the room. We are in a smaller room tonight for dinner, which feels more intimate for important guests. Begrudgingly, I have to admit that Queen Neeve stands to be a potentially strong ally, but her presence unnerves me. Most of this feeling stems from not knowing her full and true motive. Is she here truly to save her people? Does she actually want a political bonding, or is it all another ploy by the Night Court to destroy me and the Day Court from the inside out?
The hallway outside the dining hall is quiet. The guards stand silently like pillars, which is starkly different to my racing thoughts. I feel stuck with indecision, lost between the pull of my burning love for Emilia and my duty to my people. I wonder if I have done enough—been enough. Do I deserve happiness when my people suffer with an unknown threat hanging over their heads? When taking a trip to the tavern could be a death sentence? The fear and tension in the city are palpable, and I wonder yet again if I should be so selfish in my desires. But the thought of not having Emilia nearly kills me. She would not agree to an arrangement that included her as a side relationship, not that I blame her at all. I wouldn’t want anything less than one hundred percent from my relationship, so I would never expect her to settle for less.
“Does staring at the floor help with the pacing or are you truly so lost in thought you cannot look up?” My own thoughts were so loud I hadn’t heard Milori walk up to me. Releasing my hands from my back I straighten and stop my pacing. I can’t bring myself to say anything witty or funny because my spirit feels heavy.
“If only the stones on the ground would help to distract the mind.” Milori does not smirk or make a joke like he usually does. Instead he looks at me with a thoughtful expression.
“I visited the crime scene.” His statement hangs in the air, and his brow is scrunched. I do not fill the silence with unnecessary words as he looks for the right words to describe what he found. “It was far more gruesome than the others. This was not a clean kill. There was blood everywhere, as if the killer couldn’t or wouldn’t make a clean cut across the victim’s throat. The victim must have struggled a great deal. The slashes across the neck were jagged as if the knife was dull. There were even stab wounds across the chest, indicating the killer either enjoyed torturing the victim or had no clue what they were doing. Also unlike the other victims, this victim was bound by the arms and feet. We found bruising on the wrists and ankles indicating as much. The other murders were so quick there was no need to hold them down.”
Milori’s face has paled as he describes the gruesome scene. My hands have become clammy and tremble slightly. What am I going to do? Why has the means of murder changed? What does the Night Court get out of this type of attack? They have already put a great deal of tension between me and my people. What more could they want?
The only possible reason would be they want the complete destruction of my reign.
“I was able to talk to some of the neighbours. Some of them might have seen something the morning of the murder so I intend to return tomorrow to ask them about it.”
“I will go with you. The victim… who was it?” Dread builds in my stomach as Milori clasps his hands in front of himself, and a frown forms on his face.
“Kallan Eirlys.” No. Kallan was a dear friend of my father’s. He was nearly five hundred years old and had served in many conflicts protecting the Day Court people. He was loyal and always kind to me. He was there when my father was assassinated and checked in regularly to ensure I was doing well. I feel the warmth from my face disappear. This feels more like a personal attack than a random bystander. “I’m sorry, Timas.” A sense of numbness settles inside of me. I am not sure where to go at this point, but I know I will need to do something soon.
I hear voices coming from the end of the hall, and one voice in particular takes a little bit of weight off my shoulders. Coming around the corner is my Flower dressed in a flowy creme-coloured gown. The jade encrusted jewels draw my attention. It brings out her blue eyes beautifully.The matching tiara ties everything together. The dress hugs her perfectly and as she walks down the hallway, eyes entirely fixed on me, I admire the way her hips move with each step. Warmth floods back into my face. The murder is temporarily forgotten and replaced by the beauty of my spirit bond. My legs finally remember what to do and head in the direction of the woman who has ensnared my heart so thoroughly that the very air tastes stale when she is not near me.
Her eyes sparkle with passion the closer I get. It has been only a short couple of hours since I have seen her, but there is a part of me that desperately needs to be near her. When she is not near, I feel like a part of me is missing. I know when we finally complete our bond at the ceremony, my spirit will settle. Until then, a constant pulling sensation will live inside me, desperately drawing me to my flower: my beautiful Emilia. I finally reach her, and I wrap her up in my arms, pulling her to me. Her soft lips beckon me, so I waste no time leaning down and kissing her. She wraps her arms around my neck, one hand going into my hair, her fingers digging in and pulling it slightly. Her lips part, allowing me in, and I enjoy the taste of peppermint that she must have used before coming to meet me. Reluctantly, I pull away. Her lovely pale blue eyes stare into mine. I can’t help but gently bring my hand up to the side of her neck, swiping my thumb along her cheek. She is so perfect.
“Hi,” Emilia whispers, leaning into my hand.
“Hello my flower.” I place a small kiss on her forehead and she closes her eyes on an exhale. The pull is undeniable on my side but I can tell as the days pass it is pulling at Emilia as well. “Are you hungry?”
Emilia opens her eyes and looks up at me.
“Starving.” Dropping my hand from her neck, I grab her hand and lead her to the doors.
The guards on either side of the wooden doors open them for us. In the room sits an oval table made of delicate ash-white wood found in the forest behind the palace. The center is adorned with living green vines with purple and yellow flowers interspersed within it. Floating spheres of soft light hover above the vines, giving off a calm glow. The room is lit by the overhead chandeliers, so the spheres only add ambience to the room. On the far left side, Queen Neeve stands with two ladies on either side of her. She is wearing a simple, yet regal, long dark blue gown, exuding a strong presence that befits a queen.
“Good evening, Queen Neeve. Apologies for being a little late, there were some matters I needed to attend to.” I walk to the other end and pull out Emilia’s chair. She sits down on the cushioned high-back chair, adjusting her dress to ensure it doesn’t get caught as I push the chair in for her. I extend my hand to the chair at the end for Queen Neeve, and she looks at the attendant who has pulled out her chair. She sits gracefully, as expected.
The moment we are seated, the staff comes out, laying different dishes of food all along the table. One of the servants brings a small dish of seasoned potatoes and puts it beside Emilia’s plate. She looks up at the woman who brought it with a huge smile.
“Please thank Bilna for me.” She whispers to the woman, who promptly smiles and leaves. Arching a brow at Emilia, I silently question what that was all about.
“The chef made me these wonderful potatoes this morning. I told him how much I loved them and it appears he has made them again for me tonight.” She is smiling like a small child who just received candy. I lean over and breathe in the fragrant smell coming off the dish. A rich, earthy smell that instantly makes my mouth water. A scoff comes from the opposite end of the table where Neeve sits.
“You are on a first-name basis with the cook. What kind of reprehensible behaviour is that for a future Queen.” My blood boils at her distasteful comment. That is the type of behaviour I have been trying to work out of the culture. I have never liked the distinction between classes, and during my time as King, I have tried to break down those barriers, to the dismay of many upper-class Faes. Neeve’s comment not only exemplifies those levels within the Fae culture but it also puts down Emilia. I turn my gaze on Neeve, and she meets my stare.
“I do not know how it works in the Night Court, but we at the Day Court do not put down honest, hard working Fae based on their station within our culture. Your toxic mentality is one of the many reasons why the Night Court was exiled to begin with. My spirit bond shows compassion and love for all those she interacts with, and she will be an amazing Queen because of it.” I try not to look too disgusted at the woman because something shifts in her features, something that looks slightly like regret, but it is quickly covered by her mask of apathy. The room falls silent as we all begin to eat. Emilia looks between Neeve and me, unsure of what the next topic of conversation will be. I put my hand under the table and rest it on her leg, trying to show her that I am here and this will be over soon. The tension she has been holding since that first comment releases slightly, but I can tell she is uncomfortable and itching to say something. However, it is my place to figure out what this woman wants, so taking a fortifying breath, I begin what will hopefully be a productive conversation. I look at the woman who has caused a great deal of trouble in such a short time. She holds her utensils delicately in her hands. Each slice of her knife or placement of her food is a well practiced skill meant for royal events.
“Queen Neeve, you have not shared with us how you came to be here in Sonas. In fact, you have not shared with us much of your story or given us a reason to trust you. You say your half-brother currently rules the Night Court. How did that happen?”
Neeve puts her fork down and folds her hands in her lap. She’s contemplative for a moment before she speaks.
“Just over two years ago, my father, mother and I were on a mission to restore peace to the Night Court. My grandfather was the one who was exiled, with the entire night court, to the Shrouded Forest. He was a tyrant and resentful for what your grandfather did. He held onto his hate for the Day Court until the day he died, but my father did not feel the same way. He did not agree with my grandfather on many things, and they constantly fought over policies, especially how the Night Court would function after being cast into the forest. Eventually, my grandfather was lost in his mind. Some say the forest itself corrupted his mind, causing his mind to break. My father became King, and he started to usher in a form of peace with the Night Court people. His hope was to eventually request an audience with you and offer an apology and a proposal.”
I’m surprised by this information. We never heard this, but of course not much information ever comes out of the Shrouded Forest.
“Growing up, my father told me he would restore our people to the islands, bring the Night Court out of the shadows of the forest and back into the light. When we boarded a boat to take us down the river two years ago, we had hoped that maybe you would be willing to listen to us. We had heard that you were a considerate King who wanted what was best for his people. My father’s plan was to arrive here in Sonas, request an audience, and propose a political bonding between our Courts. A permanent way to interconnect our people and giving his beloved daughter in marriage would demonstrate his commitment to a lasting alliance. ”
“And you were ok with this?” Emilia says. She doesn’t understand the roles a monarch must play, but her concern for Neeve is another reminder of why I love her so much. Neeve turns and looks at Emilia.
“I was not born into a position where I can freely choose my future, and I am not resentful of that. It is an honour to serve the Night Court people. My people have been living under the weight of the forest for centuries, and the measly amount of food we’re able to grow in the forest has kept my people near starving for just as long. If my bonding will relieve them of the magical burden that lies in the forest and return food to their table, I would gladly do it. Being a Queen is not about fulfilling selfish desires, but about leading and protecting my people, which I intend to do.”
Her words hit hard as I think about my own people suffering and being afraid every day. Emilia doesn’t seem insulted, but Neeve thoughtfully considers her words.
“You are a brave woman to take up such a mantel, but why is it you never made it here two years ago?” A question I too had. Neeve seems to swallow some emotion down before continuing.
“It was not just my father, mother and I traveling together, my half-brother was as well. My father had a momentary fling when I was younger which resulted in a child. My father took him in and claimed him as his son, but the resentment my half-brother, Oberon, had for my father only grew the more time he spent with my grandfather. It is my belief that my grandfather corrupted Oberon, which led to our current situation. My father was so pleased when Oberon asked to join our mission. He thought Oberon had finally turned over a new leaf, ready to embrace a much more peaceful approach with the Day Court and not a hostile one like my grandfather wanted, but it was all a lie. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of fighting above deck. My brother and his loyal companions had started killing the royal guard who had been accompanying us. Oberon killed my father and mother in front of me. He attacked me, but he did not finish me off. He set the vessel on fire, removing the evidence of the attack. What he did not anticipate was my ability to swim and hide. I swam to the water’s edge and waited until they left. My father had told me of several small groups of Night Fae who were able to hide on some of the islands. So I travelled to the closest one to heal and come up with a plan to save my people.”
I have so many questions, the biggest of which is how I did not know of this small group hiding on the islands.
“My half-brother, Oberon, deserves a painful death. He has been tormenting my people for the past two years. He is working them to death, rationing what little food they have already. It is my duty as the rightful Queen to protect them and I will do whatever I need to, no matter the cost to myself.”
The fire in her eyes tells me she speaks the truth. She has seen great pain, losing her parents the way she did is horrible but I still do not understand one thing .
“Then why do you insist on political bonding when asking for our aid would accomplish your goals just as easily?”
She takes a moment before she responds. “The Fae people should be led by the Fae people. How is a human able to lead when she knows nothing of being a Fae. I seek to unite our people, to create one monarch to rule both courts. A human can not do that.”
A thunderous roar courses through my ears. She insults my spirit bond because she is human. The Fae are so single-minded when it comes to the superiority of our race. She is not fit to rule the Day Court. The only person worthy of ruling by my side is Emilia. A small hum of magic courses through me as my anger increases, but I will not let this control me. I will not be backed into a corner and there is no way I am just tossing my Emilia to the side. I exhale slowly before I speak.
“I am sorry for the pain you have endured because of your brother, but there is no person better suited to be my Queen than Emilia. She will rule by my side with loyalty and compassion. There is nothing you can say that will change that for me. You have a single choice to make. You can either choose to ally with me, working together to bring your people out of the forest and set up on a series of islands, or you can reject my offer and go about fighting your brother on your own. It seems to me that us joining forces is a much better idea but I leave that in your hands. In the meantime, I will not sit here and allow you to insult my spirit bond any further. If you intend to stay here it would benefit you to reflect on how you treat those you perceive as below you. You say you are here to fight for your people—does that mean all of them or just the upper class? Without those below, you would not be able to call yourself Queen.”
Standing up, the scrape of the chair echoes throughout the room. I gently grab Emilia’s hand and lead her out of the room with me. Her smaller hand holds mine tightly as we leave the room. The decision lies firmly in the Night Court Queen’s hands, but one thing is for sure: no matter what happens, I will not leave Emilia.