Chapter 7
SAPHIRA
The sheer teal curtains did absolutely nothing to shut out the light. I huffed and rolled onto my right side beneath the heavy gold and turquoise blankets of my bed, punching my pillow in frustration as I glared at the two sets of arched glass doors that filled the corner of my enormous room.
Did this damned court ever get dark?
I was beginning to think it didn’t, because I had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours now, and it was no darker now than it had been when I had fallen into bed, exhausted from my first day in the Summer Court.
Maybe it was like the Shadow Court.
It never truly got light there. The sky was perpetual twilight kissed with aurora that I missed almost as much as I missed the king that ruled that court.
I wasn’t sure there were any aurora on this side of Lucia. The bright blue sky drowned them out if there was. The light had dimmed a little, but it was still brighter than the Shadow Court got at its lightest part of the day.
Like midnight sun.
Someone should have given me a sleep mask with my welcome pack.
I pulled the pillow over my head, trying to drown out the light.
And then I threw it and the covers off me and shuffled from the bed to pad barefoot across the wooden floor to the drapes.
I growled as I pulled at them, trying to layer them over each other in a way that might block out more of the light.
My first order of business as heir was going to be ordering someone to hang some blackout curtains in my room because there was no way I was going to get used to this.
I flung one curtain open, shoved the metal scrolled handle of the door down and pushed it open.
I peered left and right, and just as I had expected, there were no shutters I could close to block out the light.
Gods, how did these people sleep with this blaring light?
I slammed the doors closed as I turned back to my room, flinching at the loud noise that split my head. Whatever that sparkling wine had been, it was stronger than I had thought or it didn’t agree with me. My head was killing me. It was worse than that mead I had drunk at Beltane.
I groaned as I flopped back onto the bed and rolled myself in the blanket, burying my head under a pillow.
Careful not to cut myself on the dagger I had placed beneath the lowest one.
Close at hand in case someone tried to kill me in my sleep.
It would probably be Lorien.
He was planning something, and I didn’t think I was going to enjoy whatever he came up with.
So, now I was sleeping with a dagger under my pillow—something I had picked up from Kaeleron. Maybe all ruling royals in the faerie realm had to sleep with a weapon on hand, and I was just joining their club.
My hand sought that blade and as I wrapped my fingers around the grip, some of my irritation melted away.
I clung to it, savouring the weight of it, and rolled onto my back to stare at the hideous gilt wood canopy that extended from the wall behind the headboard.
The semi-circular monstrosity supported layers of gold and turquoise curtains that I had tried closing over me once or twice, but they were as sheer as the ones that hung across my windows and doors.
I narrowed my eyes on the padded inside of the canopy, tempted to rip it to shreds with claw and dagger.
Instead of letting my frustration get the better of me, I sighed and gave up on chasing sleep, aware it wasn’t going to happen. Not today, anyway. I would use my time in a better way.
To plan.
Danica had to be here somewhere. I needed to figure out where they had taken her and somehow take her back.
I was heir. Could I demand she be handed over to me?
I wasn’t sure how much power I held here, but it was worth a shot.
All Sylvan could do was deny me, and then I would find another way to save her.
I also needed to find out what had happened to Kaeleron’s brother, but I couldn’t exactly ask Sylvan about that without looking seriously suspicious. I would need to find another way. I pulled the dagger from beneath the pillow and toyed with it, staring at the blade as it reflected colours at me.
The ancient fae engraved on the cross guard had my thoughts straying from my task and I frowned as I studied it.
Kaeleron had once told me that his markings, the ones that curled around his pectorals when he was in his other form, were words of protection and strength, and his unseelie bond to the Great Mother, the goddess Lucia.
His sword had similar fae markings to the ones he had placed on mine, and I had to wonder if they were words of protection and strength too, a power like the one he had imbued into his sword.
I felt stronger whenever I held it, but maybe that was just because I was armed and he had taken the effort to train me how to use it, both him and Vyr taking great pains to ensure I could defend myself.
A chuckle escaped me.
When he had been training me, I doubted he had expected I would end up in this court or it would be seelie I would be needing to defend myself against.
I made a mental checklist of the tasks I needed to carry out before I could escape this court and return to him: Find Danica. Ensure Danica’s safety. Find out what had happened to Kaeleron’s brother. Hopefully not get killed by Lorien in the process.
It all sounded so simple when I broke it down like that.
But I had missed something.
Give Kaeleron his vengeance.
I wasn’t sure how to do that, but Neve had seen me here, and I felt like this was where I needed to be for both his sake and mine. I needed answers too now. I needed to know who I was.
Other than a wolf afraid that if I gave Kaeleron the closure he needed to heal, if I fulfilled my purpose, that I would lose him.
The high king would demand Kael carried out his side of their bargain and wed his daughter.
My wolf side snarled at the thought, baring fangs at the image of him marrying that beautiful female. It wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let it. Kaeleron was mine.
I banished the small voice locked deep in my heart that whispered Kaeleron despised the seelie.
That reminded me that he had once told me he would wipe them from Lucia if he could.
I blew out my breath, trying to loosen the tightness in my chest as I stared at the dagger he had so carefully crafted for me.
Attempting to shake that part of me that was still healing, still licking its wounds because of Lucas.
Kaeleron wasn’t Lucas. Fate wasn’t as cruel as my instincts wanted to make believe.
Kaeleron wasn’t like that.
He wouldn’t reject me.
He had been willing to give up his vengeance to have me—a lowly wolf shifter, not an unseelie.
My breed had nothing to do with his love for me, and I knew he loved me, as deeply as I loved him.
I had seen it in his silver eyes when we had been in that glade in Canada, the seelie surrounding me, playing out our charade to fool them.
He had heard the same words that had cut me deep.
I was the daughter of the fallen Summer King.
Part seelie. Born of his enemy and the one who had taken so much from him.
But his feelings hadn’t changed one bit.
I used that memory of him standing across the stretch of grass from me, how broken he had looked when the seelie had surrounded me, and how angry he had been when they had wanted to take me.
I used that way he had looked at me when he had told me he hated me, echoing my words to him, his eyes telling me the opposite.
I banished my fears with it, refusing to let them get the better of me.
Kaeleron loved me. I touched the brand on my chest, feeling him in it, my eyes slipping closed as I sensed warmth trickling through it, as if he was reaching for me too.
As if he knew I was stretching through that fragile bond, needing to feel him, needing the reassurance and strength to face my fears.
Someone rapped knuckles against my door.
I jolted, fumbling with my dagger and almost dropping it point down on my chest. I caught it before it could pierce me, shoving it under the pillow as I sat up.
“Enter.” I quickly arranged my gold nightdress, making sure I looked as modest as I imagined the heir to a kingdom should.
The handmaidens who had dressed me yesterday stepped into the room, carrying golden trays. One with a cloche on it and the other with a teapot and cup.
“The others have already eaten, so the kitchen thought perhaps you might like breakfast brought to you.” The female who had ushered me downstairs to the great hall yesterday and had helped me undress when I had returned to my room dipped her blonde head and set her tray down on the low gilt-edged white circular table that nestled between two plush overstuffed armchairs.
I hadn’t realised that people here went to dine together at breakfast.
“I wasn’t sure where to go,” I said and the second handmaiden, this one a younger female with hair a shade closer to brown flinched in a way that had me quickly adding, “I should have asked, of course. It wasn’t your fault.
I was just so tired from my journey here and my presentation that it slipped my mind. ”
I didn’t want either of these females getting into trouble because of me, because neither of them seemed cruel or cold, or vicious monsters. They seemed like the servants I had known back in the Shadow Court. Just female fae trying to earn a living, and I could hardly hold that against them.
“Thank you for bringing it to me.” I slipped from the bed, grabbed my robe from the blue armchair that sat alone near the two glass doors that formed one corner of my room, and pulled it on, covering my nightdress.
“If it would be possible, could I have it on the terrace? I enjoy eating with a view.”