Chapter 23 #2
Meeting a king was stressful enough on a regular day, but the amount of time I spent struggling over wearing my new necklace nearly caused me to be late.
In the end, I wore it for the simple truth that I’d never owned jewelry like it before, and I wanted to look as much like the rest of the court as I could.
In Sulls, the wealthy could afford rare gems set in gold or silver.
Those with a little extra to spend could afford copper or bronze trinkets, possibly with polished stones.
The rest of us made colorful baubles from dyed strings and clay beads.
The quartz I settled around my neck was the finest craftsmanship I’d ever seen up close, let alone owned for myself.
And when Caldon arrived at my door to escort me, it was obvious he noticed.
Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, but that meant my question regarding the meaning behind it remained unanswered.
The conversation was light as Caldon led me through the twists and turns of the hallways.
Even so, I couldn’t remember a word either of us said, too aware of my breathing, my heartbeat, and my warm palms. Lovers.
The word thundered in my head. Something I’d never thought of for myself.
Ever. There was something about it that was so attainable here, and my mind marveled at the concept that I would be allowed to reach for it.
But there was also something distinctly wrong when my mind tried to paint a picture of me and Caldon together in that way.
Something deep blue like the night sky peeking between the silver stars crawled into the edges of my mind. Not quite coming into view, but not quite gone, either.
“Wren?” Caldon stopped.
“Hmm?” He had said something. What was it?
“I said we’re here.” Caldon gestured to an open doorway before us.
“Right, yes.” Resisting the urge to fidget with my clothes or double-check my braids, I managed to follow Caldon as he escorted me into an open glen.
The sky overhead was unbroken, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have guessed we were outside the palace altogether.
The ground was dirt and grass, sloping gently up to a hill.
The king sat atop a grand blanket and cushions.
Settled around him were several fae, including the princes and Master Draedon.
The walls, however, remained all around us at a distance.
Far enough to give the illusion of open meadow, close enough to remind me that I was still within the Spring Court’s domain.
“His Majesty requests you join his family,” Caldon said softly. “On his left is Prince Alban, Prince Arran, and Master Draedon, whom you met last night. To his right is Princess Vray, the twins’ mother, and their father, Lord Norfeld.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. We approached the top of the hill, and King Diamid waved us forward.
“Sit! Join us, Wren.” He had an air of command despite looking little older than me. His daughter and her mate were smiling as well, and Master Draedon nodded at us.
“Thank you, Majesty.” I bowed and took the indicated seat. Caldon bowed and left.
“Such grim circumstances for our first meeting,” Diamid said, plucking a grape from a bowl in front of him. “A beautiful sendoff, though. That party you arrived with know Baeleon’s tastes well.”
“Father, maybe we should speak of lighter things?” Princess Vray nodded toward me. Her droopy eyes and full lower lip gave her a dreamy, melancholic appearance. “It’s nice to meet you, Wren. Caldon tells us you are enjoying the Spring Lands?”
“I am.” A twinge of burning at my back itched, but I ignored it. “Dwellonmar is a lovely place, and the slopes of your roads remind me of growing up on a mountainside.”
“Surely not as steep as all that.” Lord Norfeld laughed, his pinched nose the most prominent thing about him before I noticed he had been the one to give the princes the shape of their mouths.
“A mountain?” Arran perked up from his tart.
“Like the Winter’s Teeth?” Alban hissed.
“Gracious, no, not there.” King Diamid patted the princes on their heads and laughed, filling the glen. “Tell me about your home in the mountains, Wren.”
“Well, I lived in a log cabin built by my father—the man who found me, that is—he was a woodsman, a woodcutter for the surrounding villages.” I wiggled a little in place as the itch on my back didn’t relent.
“Wasn’t it cold?” Vray asked, her words promising more interest than her expression as she turned her eyes toward a floral decoration on the table, picking up two white blossoms to begin twining their stems together.
“Sometimes, not all year,” I answered. “I lived through each season as it came. I could never have imagined the Autumn Lands and Spring Lands as I know them now.”
“How can you live through all the seasons changing all the time?” Arran asked skeptically.
“Hush, Arran,” Princess Vray told him absently. “Even princes have to let their guests talk. We invited Wren here, after all.”
“Sorry, Miss Wren.” Arran shied away behind Master Draedon, playing with a willow blossom in his teacher’s hair.
“Please, I’m honored by the invitation.” I bowed my head and channeled my inner Eberon. “Feel free to ask me anything.”
“Did you have a tutor?” Alban asked. The king chuckled and plucked another grape.
“No, no tutor. Well, a woman did teach me to read and write and things, but I’m sure I’m not very learned,” I answered.
“A woman, not your guardian?” The king turned to me. “Did the humans treat you well?”
Tedious. This was another tedious parade, though I could be thankful it wasn’t in front of all those extra pairs of eyes as Baeleon had done. I swallowed a sigh.
“For the most part no. The humans are . . . The unknown scares them.” I gripped my hands in the grass around me, trying to ignore my itching back. “There were a small few around me, though, who treated me well.”
“And were you afraid at your first fae encounter?” Vray tilted her head, finally looking up from the flowers.
“Truthfully, yes. But any fears I had are disappearing as I meet more fae and see more of the Wyldes.”
“But you are half fae yourself,” Lord Norfeld said.
“True, and that scared me as well. I didn’t know what might happen to me, or if I would watch those around me grow old while I stayed the same. I had no one to tell me what to expect.”
“How dreadful.” Vray lowered her head back to the flowers.
“What powers have surfaced for you?” Diamid asked. “Nothing too troublesome in your human home, I hope.”
A sinking feeling started low in my belly. “I, well, there was an incident. When I was young, but we were able to clean it up.”
“Oh?” The king leaned in. “What exactly happened?”
Now they were all staring at me. The boys curiously, the tutor with sharp interest, even Vray and Norfeld were watching my reaction.
A picnic in pastels, surrounded by flowers, foods prepared in bite-sized portions with great effort, and luxury I could never have imagined, and the most interesting thing about the whole situation simply had to be me.
I was trapped, I realized. Not in a cage or locked in a room, but I was trapped on this open hill, in a beautiful garden glen, by the high society of the fae.
The burning in my back increased, and something pressed in on me, screaming at me to keep it a secret.
My palms were so hot, I rubbed them absently on the grass.
“I—”
CAW!
Startling backward and nearly falling, I was saved by a fat shadow of feathers plummeting into my lap.
“Guards!” Lord Norfeld called. The princes squealed in delight as Princess Vray and Master Draedon scooped them up in alarm.
“Puko!” I gasped as he righted himself on my lap. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry.”
“You know this bird?” Diamid asked in surprise.
“Yes, he traveled with me from the mountains.” I got a firm grasp on his feet, sealing him to my knee. “I am so sorry. He’s probably just frustrated he couldn’t find me inside the palace. I usually sleep with a window open for him.”
“What an odd bird. What did you say his name was?” The king’s gaze was now narrowed on Puko’s clouded eye. A pang shot through my back, so raw and hot and painful that I let out a small cry.
“Ah! Ah, that. He’s been called a lot of things since he found me on my journey.” I searched for the names the others called him, particularly Eberon. “Troublemaker, Featherbrain, Menace.”
“Menace!” the twins squealed. “Can I pet him?”
Melting with relief, I was glad to have a reason to avoid the king’s stare.
“If he’ll let you, I don’t mind.” The princes scurried from the grasp of their caretakers and rushed to Puko.
I thanked him silently for his cooperation in the distraction and vowed to give him a big bowl of cherries as soon as possible.
“Sire?” A guard approached.
The king waved a hand, and the guard retreated.
“You said this creature follows you?” Lord Norfeld asked.
“Sometimes. Mostly, he just bothers me for food in the mornings.” I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. “It’s true what they say, if you feed an animal, it will follow you forever.”
“I want to feed a wolf!” Arran yelled.
“I want to feed a bear.” Alban growled. “My bear can eat your wolf!”
“Ahem.” The princess gave the twins a sharp look, and they settled down.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was around. I can try to send him away,” I offered.
“No, it’s fine.” Vray sighed. “They need to learn control.”
“Sorry, Mother.”
“Sorry.”
“Your Majesty?” A train of servants approached with what must be lunch.
Lunch? There were already plates all around us, barely touched except for Diamid’s bowl of grapes and an assortment of sweets the boys had gobbled up. As far as I was aware, lunch had already been served.
“Yes, yes, set it up.” He was still staring at Puko but waved the servants forward.
With the moment broken, I felt I could breathe again.
The rest of the lunch was a painful string of trying to eat between deeply personal questions and figuring out how to phrase things delicately enough for a king.
Finally, I was allowed to leave when it became clear the twins needed a nap.
The king still watched Puko.
My seal still burned.