11. Wren
WREN
It’s brighter in my room than it should be, and when I open my eyes, the source of the light is my wings. My wings!
Excitement flutters through my body, making me actually vibrate. I’ve been waiting for this my entire life, and it’s finally here. I scramble out of bed to go find mother.
She’s in her sitting room, sipping something from one of her crystal goblets, and her eyes go wide. While I grin, she sighs.
“My poor, beautiful boy. I’m so sorry.”
I stop spinning and give her a questioning look. Why doesn’t she seem happy for me? “What’s wrong? My wings are finally glowing.”
“My poor boy. It’s too early. You’re too young.”
“What do you mean, I’m too young? This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
“No. This is what the king has been waiting for, but you’re too young. I won’t allow it.”
“How can you not allow it? I’m already glowing.” I twirl again and try to watch my wings at the same time. My magic lights me up and it’s mesmerizing.
“You’re too young. You can’t go through the full courtesan training just yet.”
“But I am ready. The glow says I am.”
“No. I won’t allow it. I’ll bind your glow until you’re ready. Until you’re old enough to understand. I won’t let you go through what I did. I was too young, but there was no one to protect me. I’ll protect you the best I can, my darling.”
“No!” I ball my fists and keep from stomping my feet, but just barely. “I’m glowing. That’s what a courtesan has to do so they can finish their training.”
“Wren, you’re entirely too young.”
“I’m twelve!” This time I do stomp my foot.
“I’m sorry, my beautiful boy. You’re not going through the full training yet. You’re not ready.” She shakes her head. “I’m not ready.”
“Maybe you’re not, but I am.” I puff out my chest, trying to appear older.
Mother just gives me a soft smile. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I lived through this. My wings glowed at twelve as well. I didn’t know what I was being thrown into. Please believe me. You’re not ready.” She moves to run her hand through my hair, but I step back.
“Well, I’m ready.”
“Yes. And you’re a boy. When you’re truly ready, the training will be easier on you than it was me, but I don’t wish it upon anyone so young. It’s grueling and cruel. You don’t deserve such cruelty in your life. Let me protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“My sweetling.” She smiles and pulls me into a hug.
I sink into her embrace. She smells like jasmine and honey and vanilla and it’s so nice.
She always smells like comfort and home.
She pulls back and smoothes my long white hair from my face.
“I wish you never decided to go through with the courtesan training. I wish I had the pull to get you out, but His Majesty refuses.”
“You don’t want me to be a courtesan?”
“No, my love. I want you to find your own calling. You and Lark. I want you both to find your happiness, not follow in my footsteps.”
My wings tremble and I swallow. “His Majesty, he said, I had to.” I never had a choice.
“What do you mean, you had to?” She pulls away and looks into my eyes.
“He said he’d send me away if I didn’t go through with courtesan training. He said I’d never see you or Lark again.”
Mother’s hands squeeze my arm. “When did he say this?”
“When we came to the Winter Court. He summoned me to his office, and he said that if I wanted to stay with you, I had to become a courtesan, too.” His office had smelled like sandalwood and metal. I didn’t like it.
Mother’s brows knit close together. She frowns. “That can’t be right.”
“It’s what I remember. That’s why I’m so excited about my wings glowing. It means he can’t send me away. I can be a courtesan.” Tears well in my eyes. “I don’t want him to send me away because my wings don’t glow.”
Her face goes bright red. “I don’t care who he is. He’s not sending you away. No. We’re binding you with moon thread, and you won’t glow again until I clip it.”
I step back, shaking. “Please don’t do this.” I’ve waited so long for my glow, I don’t want it snuffed out so soon.
“We have to. You’ll understand when you’re older. I promise. Please, please, don’t fight me on this. My beautiful boy, my perfect, sweet faeling. Please do this for me. Please allow me to bind your glow to protect you.”
“I don’t understand.” My shoulders drop and I rub my foot along the cold marble floor.
“And that’s exactly why we must bind you, my sweet dear.
If we don’t, they’ll take advantage of you.
They’ll take every bit of you, and I don’t wish that on you at all.
You’re too sweet. I want you to stay innocent for as long as possible.
Allow you to run and be as free as you can be.
No one’s been a courtesan at your age for centuries, and I won’t allow it to be my child to be the next one. ”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Thank you, my love. Thank you.” She pulls me back into her embrace and I will myself to keep from being more of a brat than I’d already been. Mother doesn’t ask for much.
Mother drags a chair from her breakfast nook to by the fireplace. She spins it around, so the back is facing the fire. I just want to admire my wings and their glow. They sag with every dramatic sigh I emit.
“Sweetling, you’ll glow again.” Mother runs her fingers through my hair as she deftly braids my tresses. “Perhaps you deserve a few moments in front of the mirror, though.” She nods towards her silver full length standing mirror in the corner.
I hug her before racing to look myself over.
She laughs as I turn this way and that, trying to get a good visual of the glow.
It’s a deep violet that fades into brilliant yellow towards the tips.
My hair is stark white, so having a bit of pretty color has me over the moon, even if mother wants to hide it away for now.
“You have your father’s glow,” she says so softly I wonder if she knows I can hear her. “Come sit. I’ll do this as quickly and painlessly as possible.” She moves gracefully to her bedroom.
I sit in the chair again, waiting for her return.
“I’m sorry this is going to hurt. I have to circle your wing stems, then sew the moon thread into your skin. Once I tie the ends, it’ll mask your glow.” She kisses my shoulder and I brace the back of the chair.
For long minutes, nothing hurts. She counts and weaves my wings together with a song I’ve never heard before. I don’t know if it’s part of the ritual or for her own comfort. I cry out when she starts sewing the moon thread into my skin.
“I’m so sorry, Wren. My sweet boy. My beauty.”
I feel tears drip down my back with each weave of her needle going back and forth between my wings.
“Won’t everybody know what you’ve done?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the pain. The warmth of the magic coursing through my wings fades.
“No, my sweet child. As soon as I tie the knot, the threads will become invisible, and your glow will stop.” At that, she ties the threads, and the glow disperses until it’s gone.
“My sweet boy, this will save you so much pain and heartache. I know it will.”
I suck in a breath and sit. My heart pounds.
Why the fuck did I dream of that night? Why do I keep dreaming of the Fae lands now?
It’d been long enough I shouldn’t be thinking about them, right?
Why do they plague me now? I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will my breathing to calm.
Mother was, of course, right and every day through later training and my courtesan career, I thanked her for binding my glow.
No child should go through that, and I’m sorry she had to.
Now I’m too upset to go back to sleep. There’s nothing in the apartment to do though, so I pad over to the living room and turn on the TV.
I keep the volume low and just stare at the screen until I zone out.
I don’t even know what’s playing, but it helps relax me again.
Did Lord Yelling bring the dream? How would he know about my first glow?