Chapter 9 #2
“Think of it, Valance. Think of the power we could wield, how the balance could be tipped back in our favor once again. A shadow sorcerer belonging to us?”
Yes, it could be done. Ren could be manipulated to our side for us to use his power. But we still knew little about him or his magic. If anything, the danger was too great. His meekness could be an act. And one shadow sorcerer wouldn’t be a scale-tipper.
“Father, I—”
“We need something, Son. We cannot allow this alliance to happen, not after all of these years of power. This is not an alliance I favor.”
The people of Spring had found iron deep in their lands to the west of Summer. A smaller country, the smallest in Faerie, but now on the verge of being a tremendous danger to everyone and everything.
Iron harmed all fae, destroyed magical abilities, brought slow and painful death.
No fae in history could handle the metal, and any discovery of it would always be sealed away immediately.
However, the Spring lords had discovered a method of using it.
Gentry were proficient in metalwork and made all metallic instruments for the world—on both sides of the fight.
Most of Spring was comprised of Gentry fae.
A deadly weapon now lay in their hands.
Summer had the army, the sheer power of brutality at our fingertips. And the seed magic. Iron threatened to dismantle all of it. Yet we still had greater numbers. Therefore, a stalemate had been reached. A deal had to be struck beyond our existing peace accords and trade deals.
The appropriate paperwork had been drawn up already, scrolls and scrolls of laws and conditions for Spring not to use their iron against us, and for us to remain in power and not try to take the iron by force, and for them to wield a bigger slice of governance.
Shared power. One united force to keep the peace, my forthcoming marriage to Lord Samuel Florent, the glue to hold it all together. A marriage I didn’t want.
I’d never met the lord in person. That didn’t matter.
He was the lord of Spring now, his mother, the Lady, having passed away.
I had no choice but to seal this deal. The flame-haired Gentry fae were creatures of long life, but not eternal life as a Sidhe.
Age would catch them at some point. A long marriage awaited me, though.
Unless I had the lord killed. Well, if he were a monster.
I’d never heard negative tales of the man.
In fact, I’d heard great things about him.
His kindness, his valiant heart, his dashing handsomeness.
We’ll see…
“What do you think?” My father asked.
He didn’t give me a chance to answer. “I know how radical it sounds, Son. But I think this is the key we needed, the sign to not yield to this deal.” His lips curled into a snarl.
“Do you think I want to unite with them? To share our power with Gentry fae? No. They already have enough with their metalworking. The Faerie Throne has been in the Rosestar name for centuries, and it will remain so with the utmost purity intact.”
“But—”
“No, Son. No. Do not fall for the fanciful words of those accords.”
I had to counter him on this. “You pushed for this, Father. You want me to get married.”
“I did. I do.”
“You want me to get married and make this alliance come into effect? I’m confused.”
The king snarled again. “Talking down to your father yet again. Danu, what did I do to breed such a dissenting son?”
“I’m not… Father…” I took a breath, straightened in my seat. “I’m only asking—”
He thumped the table. “Do not question your king!”
Careful, now. You might break a bone.
Beneath the table, my hands were fists. “My sincerest apologies, my king. The last thing—”
“Oh, save the sniveling for someone who cares. Do not kill the unseelie sorcerer. Spare him any harm, fatten him up. I want him ripe and ready to use.” He picked up another slice of toast. “Yes, you will perform your duties. You will marry this Lord Florent and become a husband. All smiles. Wonderful. But then, when the fools are lulled into a false sense of security and change, we strike with the sorcerer. By then, he will be on our side, ready to do our bidding.” My father closed his hand around the toast. It crunched loudly under the pressure.
“We’ll crush them all like this bread.” He tossed the remains of the toast over his shoulder.
“I am King Oberon of House Rosestar. I do not yield. My family does not yield.”
As forceful as he was behaving, I wasn’t afraid. Not as much as I should be, at least. So, in my bravery, I offered him a question. “Breaking accords will start a war, will it not?”
“Indeed it will, Son.” A menacing smirk spread across his face.
“You want more war, Father?”
“If war is what it takes, then yes.”
The king was nothing but a feeble, broken thing, drawing his final rancid breaths, clinging on to some semblance of relevancy.
His fault. He’d done this to himself. And now it was too late to be anything but a madman with no power.
His counsel wouldn’t advise war on top of war, and neither would I.
Clearly, there’d be no reasoning with him.
“I want this,” he said. “I want to figure out what makes the sorcerer tick. For me. Say nothing to anyone. Do you understand?”
“Completely, Father.”
I had no problem with the lie I’d just uttered. I picked up my cup of tea and clicked the porcelain cup with his.
“To us,” he said, “and our plan.”
“To us,” I returned.
“I like this, Son,” he said after a sip. “Our joint efforts, this bonding.”
Too late… “As do I, my king.”
The air outside my father’s chambers seemed so much fresher. Good for my head. The further I walked away from his presence, the weight of him lifted from me. I could breathe, be away from his overbearing aura.
Stupid bastard. Breaking accords? Trying to coax a Fomorian onto our side?
Playing with shadow magic? He’d lost his mind, forgotten every drop of blood spilled from our people in this endless war between the courts.
What a selfish, horrible man. Spring was armed with iron.
Did he not understand what that meant? There was no going back now.
We had to unite and share a piece of our power.
I hated it, too, tried to think how to not be a husband to the new lord. There wasn’t a how, only the inevitable. I had to face it, so did he.
Hurry up with your fading, king!
My heart and soul were heavy, almost like iron weights in my spiritual existence. Sad for my father as much as angry. I wanted him gone now if this was the pathetic fae he’d become. Enduring more ramblings, more of this poison would drag me down with him.
I found myself arriving at my mother’s tower, facing the wooden door and her elven guards.
They greeted me and let me inside. My feet seemed to act of their own volition, carrying me up the stairs of Sovereign Tower, up to a place I never wanted to visit because it hurt too much.
Yet, there I went, up and up and up until I reached more guards, another door, then the opulent red and gold chambers of my mother.
She lay on her back, covered with gold sheets, head resting on puffy pillows of gold. Her silver hair pooled beneath her, her eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. She looked like an oil painting, her skin still as radiant as moonlight even in this state of unending, open-eyed unconsciousness.
The room was cool, the balcony windows ajar to allow a breeze in. The red and gold striped drapes billowed in the gentle wind, and the air was tinged with the perfume of lilies—my mother’s favorite flowers.
I went to stand beside her, gazing down into the bright turquoise eyes she shared with my late brother. Her chest rose and fell, the only sign of her still living.