6. Lysandra
Puck leaves as soon as the teams are decided, even though we need to discuss the party. I open my mouth to protest his disappearance, but everyone promptly moves on to other conversations, seemingly unbothered. They act like I’m not here, and while they’re not expressly talking about me, the conversation skirts the edge of gossip. They allude to my arrival, to the disruption being an inconvenience. Larisa outright says the trials are bullshit.
They hate me.
I expected shock and even some ire. I expected to have to earn their trust and respect. I didn’t realize how badly I’d need to dig myself out of a hole of my mother’s making. I didn’t even know her, for fuck’s sake. I had nothing to do with the way she ruled or conducted her life.
Their treatment brings up terrible memories and feelings I’d much rather forget. After I emerged, I spent a lot of time alone. My magic was too unpredictable, and in the beginning, glamouring my appearance was hard. My friends would have known something was wrong, so I ghosted them all. My heart tore into tiny pieces each time they reached out. Eventually, the messages and calls stopped and they moved on with their lives. I had my father, but then he died, and my only consolation was that one day, I’d be in Faerie and have others who understood me, who I didn’t have to hide from.
The brief reprieve spent with the witches softened me; with them, I got used to friendship and love again. It broke down my carefully crafted defenses and my ability to gaslight myself into thinking I preferred being alone.
Now, I’m right back to where I was when I emerged. Alone. Invisible. Completely at a loss for how to fit in.
I want to run, to find a secluded garden somewhere and expel the magic brimming under my skin. My emotions are too close to the surface and I can feel vines forming, waiting to be set free. But I can’t let this group see me vulnerable. They’re sharks, and they’ll sniff out weakness like blood in the water.
My eyes connect with Hades’ as she silently observes me from her end of the table. She’s impenetrable, not a sign of emotion, but I get the feeling shes read me like a book. I lift my chin in a way I hope portrays confidence, and smile to keep my lip from wobbling. She doesn’t respond in kind, instead standing and leaving without a goodbye to anyone in the room.
“Edina.” I lean over to the female beside me. She laughs at something Radley says before turning to me, the mirth from the joke dying as she meets my gaze. “Please. You have to understand why I lied to you.”
“Because Vlad forced you to?”
“Because he told me you’d tell Puck. Or your mom,” I assert. She fidgets in her seat, proving my point. “I wasn’t sure I’d be safe if they knew of my existence.”
“I understand why, but it doesn’t mean I trust you. And it certainly doesn’t mean I’ll back your bid to become queen.”
That stings, but I try not to let it show.
“You’d support the male who rejected you over me, who lied to you once?” It comes out a bit sharper than I intended, and Edina raises her eyebrows in challenge.
“Yes,” she says. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, but since you asked: Puck has been cleaning up Titanias mess while you were fucking around in the mortal realm. The public loves him. And even though he is my ex-mate—which, by the way, is also your mothers fault—he gets my support because of the way he’s handled himself after his coup.”
The rest of the table’s conversations have dipped to a whisper as they pretend not to eavesdrop. “Well,” I say, pasting on a smile. “I’ll just have to prove you wrong, then.”
I stand, smooth my dress, and turn to the rest of the room. “If anyone would like to have a drink or talk or whatever else you do here for fun, I’d love to have you over. Once I know where my rooms are.” I round the table, head held high, and leave.
The second the large oak doors close behind me, I place a hand on my thudding chest. Now that I’ve dealt with that hornet’s nest, I need to talk to Puck. I know he hates me—honestly, I’m not his biggest fan either—but I need him to work with me, and I will use every tool at my disposal to get him to. I’d have to be blind not to see the way he looked at me before he found out who I was. I can exploit that.
“Your Highness?
I jump, my barely-tempered heart rate skyrocketing once again. I swear, Ive been here for less than an hour and already my heart cant take it.
The Fae female who snuck up on me bows at the waist. She has a very faint sage green tint to her skin, and her brown hair is tied back in a low braid. “Sorry for startling you. She rises. Despite looking younger than me, she speaks with a wisdom that tells me she’s far older. “I’m Farah, your lady’s maid, and I’m here to escort you to your room.”
“Nice to meet you, but I was looking for Puck—”
“Come,” she says, leaving no room for argument as she starts down the hall. The command wasn’t rude or abrasive but reminds me of the times my father would try to redirect me when he didn’t want to answer one of my many questions.
As we walk, Farah points out various points of interest. The grand ballroom, the throne room—which is under construction—the kitchens, the atrium. We pass entrances for the different towers—all of which have their purpose—and doors that lead outside to the stables, the jousting ring, and the menagerie. The palace is a weird mix of natural wood and thick, gray stones. It’s like something out of a storybook, with long banners hanging from the rafters and elaborate weaponry displayed on the walls.
“The royal rooms—where you’ll be staying—recently underwent a remodel, she says, leading me upstairs. The queen’s rooms especially are spectacular. I believe Interim King, Puck, had them designed with his mate in mind, but…”
“I know the circumstances of his mating,” I say flatly. Vlad wanted to make sure I knew what I was walking into when I arrived in Faerie, so he held nothing back when relaying tales of my mother’s cruelty. Forcing Puck to reject his mate is one of the many reasons the Fae hate my mother, and I don’t blame them. Ive only met one pair of mates, as theyre rare in the mortal realm, but their love was magical. A blessing. I truly felt sorry for Puck when I heard of the situation. Not that I could ever let him know that.
After another flight of stairs and a walk down another hall, we stop in front of a white door decorated with rose-gold flowers. “Here we are,” Farah says and pushes the door open.
The sitting room is huge. Its painted in soft pinks and blues reminiscent of a sunrise. There’s no trace of stone in these rooms, only color and wood that makes my magic hum in approval. In the center is a small glass table that’s surrounded by two navy upholstered armchairs and a small sofa. The entire back wall is made of windows that overlook a rose garden with a fountain of a brownie at its center. The brownie’s hands are open to the star-speckled sky, water streaming from them in a cascade of light and color. Night-blooming roses climb the tower and frame the windows, their vines elegantly dripping down in tendrils like natural curtains.
“You have a meeting room through there for the conversations you don’t wish to have in your office,” Farah says, pointing to a door on the right side. “The office is the floor above this one. You’ll also find the king and queen’s personal library there, as well as the palace’s portal. Please remember to keep the portal a secret—only those who know of its existence can find it on the ley lines.”
I nod. I can only imagine the kind of trouble we’d face if other Fae knew how to access an entrance so close to the king and queen’s rooms.
“There’s also an empty room that could be filled however you wish.”
“Could I get a guitar?” I ask. “And maybe a piano?” Playing music was how I spent my free time in the mortal realm. I was in a band when I was a teenager, but I had to leave when I emerged.
“Certainly, Your Highness. We’ll make the room into a music studio for you. Please let us know of any sheet music you need, even if we have to procure it from the mortal realm.” She walks to the left of the sitting room and twists a rose gold doorknob. “And this is your room.”
The room is stunning. The four-poster bed is a dark wood that contrasts starkly with the pale green comforter. Theres also a wardrobe, a vanity, and doors covered in thin gossamer curtains that lead to a trellis, but the real standout is the wall behind the headboard. Its painted with the most elaborate floral mural I’ve ever seen. The colors are so vivid that they appear real. I find myself drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
“Oh!” I exclaim. Instead of plaster or drywall, I find the softness of petals. The flower beneath my fingertips shimmers and then pops out of the wall. I pluck it from its confines and am shocked when the mural shows a bud instead of the fully grown flower in my hand.
“A special piece of magic,” my lady’s maid says. “Fit for a queen.”
She smiles a wide, crooked smile before dipping her head in respect. She’s the first person to look at me like I may win the crown someday. I’m not sure whether it’s because she values her job and wants to serve the queen instead of the princess, or if she was loyal to my mother, but it’s hard not to be charmed by her openness and sincerity.
“You have an ensuite through here,” Farah continues, opening the door to show me the bathroom. Thank the goddess they have running water in this realm. The Fae supposedly stole certain ideas from the humans, though they’d never admit it. I wish they wanted electricity, but magical lights were deemed easier and less maintenance, so they never switched over.
“Is there anything else I can do for you? she asks. I could bring up some dinner—”
“Do you know where Puck’s rooms are?” I ask. Farah’s green face pales. “We were told to plan the inaugural ball for our trial, and he left before we could discuss details.”
“Um,” she stammers. “He’s just next door, Your Highness, but I must caution you against disturbing him.”
“I’m sure he won’t behead me if that’s what you’re worried about.” My joke falls flat, and I get the impression she’s genuinely scared Puck may do just that. “Thank you, Farah. I’m all set for the evening.”
She squeaks at my brazenness, but curtseys and exits the room at my dismissal. She’ll get used to me eventually, and if she served my mother, I’m sure she’s heard worse.
I let my hair down so it hangs to my shoulders, using magic to get it to fall neatly before messing it up a bit with my fingers. I decide to change out of my dress, summoning a pair of jeans that make my ass look great and a black shirt that shows a lot of cleavage. The look is sexy but dressed down, so I hope it’s subtle enough to hide my intentions.
I make my way to the only other door in the hallway and knock forcefully. There’s a burst of laughter before the door swings open. Puck stiffens at my appearance, his jaw ticking. “What do you want?” he asks, blocking the doorway surprisingly well considering he’s not a very broad male.
I hoped he was alone, and for some reason, the fact that he’s entertaining pisses me off. “We need to discuss the ball.
“I have it handled,” he says in a patronizing tone. My nails cut into my palms hard enough to draw blood. There is nothing I despise more than being talked down to, but I hold my ground, bite my tongue, and ignore the urge to wrap a vine around his neck and squeeze.
“Queen Gwyneira said we need to plan it together—”
“I get it, you’re here and eager to please. But part of being a ruler—”
“You’re an interim ruler,” I snark.
At my words, his eyes widen the slightest amount before he manages to paste on an unaffected look. “Part of being any kind of ruler,” he says, the bite in his words a bit more apparent, “is making your own decisions. I’m choosing to ignore your presence until the first trial.”
“Too fucking bad,” I seethe, my temper slipping. Puck’s eyebrows shoot up before he gives me a slow, appraising look. “Now, you can let me in, or I could have my lady’s maid ring the chef, the palace decorator, and anyone else involved in organizing this party and override your instructions.”
“What makes you think they’d listen to you?”
“Because I’m the one with royal blood. My title won’t go away even if I don’t win the trials. Yours is temporary.” The blow is low, but it’s true, and he’s being an asshole.
Puck releases a breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge. “Fine,” he hisses through his teeth and steps out of the doorway. His gesture to enter feels sarcastic, but so is the smile I give him as I pass.
Inside, I find Edina, Eldoris, Radley, and Larisa, each with a drink in their hand, though Edina is drinking water. She meets my eyes for a second before gesturing to the seat next to her on the green velvet couch. Puck takes the armchair opposite me, gripping the armrests hard enough for the wood to groan.
Radley is the one who breaks the silence. “Since our host seems to have forgotten his manners, can I get you a drink, Lysandra?” He stands and crosses to the bar cart, ruffling Puck’s hair as he goes.
Radley reminds me of a lumberjack with his bushy beard and broad shoulders. He’s not a very tall male but what he lacks in height, he makes up for with a larger-than-life personality. His laugh is loud and booming, and his smile is infectious. When he hands me my drink, he winks and his fingers brush against mine for a second too long.
As Radley sits, I notice Puck’s pale skin is an angry shade of crimson, and his emerald eyes are dark. It might make me petty, but I take pleasure in his reaction.
The chatter continues around me, and I listen. The topics are light, mostly centered around parties and vacations and such, but I drink it up like a sponge. Today may not have gone as I planned, but I’m here. In Faerie. Living in the Spring Court Palace.
I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.
And I’m determined not to let Puck ruin that for me.
“How are the girls?” Edina asks softly. I’m so floored that she’s speaking to me after our altercation that it takes me a minute to realize she’s asking about Katie’s daughters.
It’s not an apology, but I’m choosing to believe it’s an olive branch. A weight I wasn’t aware I was carrying lifts off my shoulders.
“Misty just started crawling before I left,” I say, and Edina squeals. “And Lorraine is…”
“Going to be a handful,” she finishes for me, and we both laugh.
We fall into easy conversation about our mutual acquaintances, and as we chat, Puck shoots daggers at us.
Once again, I feel a little too much satisfaction at his anger.