3. Evanee #2
The Coven Council—four ancient Witches that the Four Sisters answered to—was almost a kingdom of their own. They’d been chosen long ago to broker peace among the realms, and were supposed to keep the Sisters in check, but it doesn’t really seem like they’re all that involved to me.
Horns blasted in the distance, startling us out of our work.
“That’s odd. I hadn’t heard of anyone coming here,” Sarah murmured, craning her neck toward the narrow alley, where beings passed by, excitedly making their way to the gate.
I shrugged. “Astrid said they received word last night that some of the King’s guard were coming here.”
“Ooh, I wonder if the Shadow Stalkers are with them!” She stood and smoothed out her crumpled dress. “The King didn’t let the Queen take any of them when she moved here. I don’t get excited about much these days, but have you seen the King’s Shadow Stalkers?”
My brow arched as I shook my head. From the whispers I heard about the cruelty of the King, it was a miracle he let the Queen live here at all.
The thought of him letting her take any of the Shadow Stalkers was just laughable based on the gossip that flitted about this place.
Especially as she had moved here the moment she provided an heir.
“Don’t the Werewolves just look like us when they aren’t shifted?” I couldn’t hide the disinterest in my voice.
“They most certainly do not!” She huffed.
“Unlike puny, human men, they’re stacked with muscle and stand as tall as the Fae!
” She folded her arms across her chest. The bowl in my hand clinked against the other clean dishes in the stack, and I found myself avoiding her gaze.
Her admiration for the beasts stoked a bitterness within me that my expression didn’t hide.
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Aren’t you coming? I want to see who it is!” she said, voice shrill with excitement.
“I’ll pass. I couldn’t care less about the Moon Rider—”
“Don’t say that!” she gasped, her gaze bouncing wildly around, making sure no one was near, I'd assume.
“Don’t say what?”
“What you were about to say. The Werewolves are Shadow Stalkers. The—” She cast another nervous glance around before leaning toward me, whispering, "—the Gargoyles were called Moon Riders when they were alive. I’ve told you this,” she scolded, clucking her tongue.
I frowned.
“I don’t understand why. Why would they try to erase an entire kingdom?” I snatched the next dish. Sarah straightened up and pulled off her apron, throwing it onto the dirty stack, her mouth turned down.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care enough to risk my life asking about it. Now come on! I don’t want to go alone.” She snatched my arm, fingers bruisingly tight as she pulled me after her.
As Sarah dragged me between the buildings, my mind drifted to the Gargoyles and the war.
If the purpose of the Four Sisters was to broker peace between the realms, then how was a whole species just…
wiped out? Without intervention from the Coven Council?
One of their own was missing from a war that shouldn’t have happened between two realms—yet the Council hadn’t left their island to investigate or make anything right?
Restore the balance? And now, according to Sarah, it’s against the law to discuss anything about the former Gargoyle kingdom.
Anytime I tried to ask about them, it was the one time she wouldn't talk. Something didn’t add up.
Unfortunately though, in this realm, asking the wrong questions would get you killed.
The courtyard was already filled to the brim with busybodies from the grounds. Knights formed a line, one across from the other for the incoming riders to pass through.
Queen Valentina herself stood atop the stairs as regal as ever.
My teeth ground as I raked my gaze over the royal blue dress that hugged her body with shiny sapphire beading decorating the bodice, billowing around her as if she had Cressida create the phantom breeze just for that effect.
I snorted, which earned me a chastising glare from a nearby Fae male. I flipped him off. Fuck you too.
A gaudy crown sat atop her head, packed with jewels, and her blonde hair had been knotted tightly at the back of her head, sharpening her features, with pointed ears prominent.
It made my insides twist to see her in her finery, setting herself high above the crowd where she stared down her nose with that ever-present smirk.
My gaze flicked to Cressida, who stood beside her in a tight, sleeveless green dress that proudly showed off all her ink.
The sun glinted off the golden jewelry that decorated her ears, drawing my attention to the side of her head where she'd shaved her hair, leaving the rest of her fiery red hair loose to her waist. New tattoos, like vines, covered the shaved side.
I stared at the new ink—what poor bastard has she cursed this time?
Every muscle in my body pulled taut, jaw tight as her fiery gaze swept across the crowd, her mouth curled in a sneer.
The sound of hoofbeats grew closer, drawing the crowd’s attention back toward the front gates.
One by one, horses slowed as they entered; stoic knights in their stiff fighting leathers stared ahead, ignoring the commoners surrounding them as their horses trotted straight to the marble stairs.
A carriage followed at the end, the royal crest large and shining.
The crowd whispered—is the King here? Is it the Prince?
Has something happened in the realms? Has someone died?
The whispers carried on. One Fae female even wailed beside us. I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling.
Sarah, being so small, jumped up and down to see the commotion that had reached the steps.
“I can’t see anything! Let’s get closer.”
For such a small person, she had a deathly grip as she pulled me behind her. We weaved in and out of beings to get closer—Sarah pushing and shoving anyone in her way. I mumbled apologies at the irritated looks and curses that followed. I could still see—one advantage to my height.
A male who appeared to be in his late twenties—though all but the humans lived hundreds, if not thousands of years, so who knew how old he actually was—dismounted and climbed the stairs, kneeling before the Queen, his black hair meticulously fixed and uniform pristine.
Of course it would be, as one of the Fae King’s guards.
The females nearby whispered and giggled, casting nervous glances his way.
Some even fell back into their friend’s arms, pretending to faint.
My lip curled as I watched the performances.
Ignoring the buffoons, I turned my attention back to the Queen as he leaned in to speak to her.
For a moment, her expression didn’t change.
Then her face fell, and her features darkened, brows and mouth pulling down.
The Queen’s icy gaze cut to the crowd before she turned on her heel, stalking straight back into the castle with Cressida and the Knight right behind.
Voices mingled, cutting over one another as conjecture spewed. Sarah joined in, arguing with the wailing female, but I tuned their voices out as everyone was shoved to the side so that the remaining guards pulling the carriage could get through.
Sarah grabbed my shoulder, shaking me with a gasp. “That was the captain of King Raul’s guards!” she squealed. I stared at her blankly.
“Ugh. Honestly, you’re hopeless sometimes,” she scoffed.
“That male is the youngest ever to be a captain for the King. My cousin wrote to me a few years back that he came from nowhere, and the King personally put him in his position.” She strained to look over the crowds.
Meanwhile, my attention drifted back to the spot where the Queen and Cressida had stood.
I didn’t give a shit about some young captain. But I did take comfort that whatever he’d said upset Queen Valentina. Good. Hope it was something catastrophic.
“Back to work!” A guard shouted, startling us all. “Now!”
The crowd grumbled but dispersed as ordered.
Sarah and I returned to the tub of dishes to finish our task and other small chores Astrid had left for us.
She talked and speculated about the visitors the entire time.
The sun had long since set when we were finally done, and exhaustion weighed heavily after I spent the whole time restraining myself from strangling her to silence.
It was a cooler night than usual with a slight breeze that soothed my heated skin. As I walked back to my quarters, the night was blissfully silent beneath the cloudless sky.
The paths were empty; the shifts had long since changed, leaving me alone.
I rubbed my arms, trying to assuage a shiver that crept up my spine—something felt off, yet everything seemed fine.
Normal even. Then why does it feel as if I’m being watched again?
The full moon was impossibly bright and round, casting an eerie glow over the cobbled path and me, igniting that damn ache.
Something was unsettling about the moonlight. Maybe that’s where the weird feeling came from. When the ache flared, it’s as if the moon beckons to something deeper in me—an inexplicable pull.
My back throbbed along both sides of my spine, matching the thrum of my pulse. I rolled my neck and massaged the tight muscles as strange sensations rippled through my body.
“Hello there. Who might you be?”
The deep voice startled me.
I whipped to face him, and he whistled, his mouth curving up as he unabashedly looked me over.
He wasn’t anyone I recognized, but the Fae King’s crest flashed on his breastplate.
“I’m no one, sir—just a servant,” I responded, casting my gaze forward, quickening my pace.
My heart thundered against my ribcage.
“It’s been a very long journey to get here. I could use some company.”