15. Lysandra
Last obstacle. And it’s a doozy.
The monarchs must have taken a page out of a human reality show. There’s a balance beam that leads to a series of ropes they will either need to high knee over or army crawl underneath. Then, they have to go up a rickety-looking ladder, across a rope bridge, and finally get on a swing that will deposit them in a pile of autumn leaves on the other side of the finish line.
The instructions said all members of my team—six now that we’ve picked up Izar’s mate and Larisa’s boyfriend—will need to cross the finish line before I can. If they fall off any of the obstacles at any point, they have to go back to the beginning.
I explain the course in detail and they hang onto my every word, drinking in the descriptions I give them from how thin the balance beam is to how far apart the ladder rungs are. Behar is in the Seelie Court army, and provides some helpful tips on how to do certain obstacles.
I release a fortifying breath and give myself a mental pep talk. One more test. My team has been doing well so far; we can do this.
“We should do this in sections. There are platforms between each obstacle, so I say we all do one, then the next, and so on.”
“And if anyone falls?” Larisa asks.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“I’ll go first. Throughout this trek, Larisa has been pretty amazing. Since she’s Puck’s friend, I expected her to fight me every step of the way but she’s been receptive to my directions, and it’s set the tone for the whole team.
I instruct her to step forward and sidestep to the left until she’s directly in front of the balance beam. Since the entire group is still holding onto each other, they get an idea of where they’ll need to be. “Lift your leg to a right angle, then bring it down slowly,” I say, and Larisa does so until her foot touches the balance beam. Without prompting, she brings her other foot up, placing it directly in front of the other, and begins to walk straight, with her arms outstretched on either side of her body.
“You’re doing great,” I praise. “A bend in the beam is coming up in about five steps.”
The wind chooses that moment to pick up, making Larisa wobble, but she waits, steadies herself, and continues.
“Good, make a—” Before I get the words out, she makes a hard turn to the left instead of the slight right I was about to tell her to make. She tumbles off the balance beam with an oomph but catches herself before face-planting.
“What was that?” she demands. The wind rustles the leaves again, and the clearing is filled with their laughter. “You told me to go left.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I heard it too,” Hades says.
“I swear, I didn’t—”
In one swift motion, Minthe jumps onto the beam and starts walking. “What are you doing?
“You told me to start.”
What in the goddess’ name is happening? Is this an enchantment in the forest? Something the judges put in to make the last challenge harder?
I’m so on edge that I fly back and forth with each member as they cross the balance beam, floating nearby so they can hear the directions. Luckily, there’s no further incident. The next section, the army crawl, also goes smoothly since there’s nothing to fall off of.
The ladder is a different story.
Hades starts when Minthe is only halfway up, knocking her head into Minthe’s ass and sending the two of them to the ground. Izar gets distracted, turning over his shoulder to hear something I “said,” and then loses his grip and falls. All three need to go back to the beginning, and then Izar can’t seem to remember the order of the balance beam and keeps turning the wrong way.
“Damn it, Lysandra,” he fumes, taking a tumble that rolls his ankle. “Why do you keep telling me to go left?”
I’m on the other end of the course, guiding his mate up the ladder, and have not said a word to the three at the start. I never even told them to go; I planned to have them wait until I got the rest of the team through to the end.
“I haven’t said—”
The wind rustles again, and this time I hear it. My voice. It tells Larisa to jump off the platform, but she doesn’t listen this time, her intuition telling her that jumping isn’t a smart move.
“Everyone stop,” I order, and all movement freezes. The wind moves again, and I hear my voice saying ‘Now go.’ “No! Don’t go!”
“Oh fuck,” Hades says. “The leaves are mimicking your voice.”
“How the hell can leaves do that?” I demand, shouting my rage at the trees, who sway and laugh.
“They can’t,” Izar says. “Unless they’re enchanted by a dryad.”
“But the dryads—”
“Are loyal to the forest, not the courts and certainly not the judges,” Larisa says. “And who knows this forest better than anyone? Who has a home here?”
Puck.
“That little— I fume. I want to run up to the nearest tree and kick it, but I don’t think that would help my standing with the forest. But if Puck is trying to sabotage us, that means he’s behind and getting desperate. All we need to do is finish this damn course, and we’ll win.
“Okay, listen up.” My desire to crush him like a grape is renewed, energizing me and helping me think clearly. “When the wind blows, you stay still, no matter where you are, no matter what you’re doing. Hades, Minthe, Izar, don’t move at all until the wind is quiet and you hear me tell you to start. I’m gonna get the others across the finish line first.”
“You got it, Your Highness,” Minthe cheers.
“Larisa,” I start, flying up beside her. The wind picks up; this time, everyone stills and waits for it to subside. “Take three steps forward and put both hands out. You’ll feel the rope bridge.”
She does as she’s told, and then runs across the rickety planks. When she reaches the platform on the other side, a small bit of wood that sways as she lands on it, I say, “I know it’s scary but reach your right hand forward to grab the swing.”
The word swing is generous. It’s a long piece of rope with a knot at the bottom to balance your feet.
Larisa snatches the rope and feels around for the knot where she can put her feet. “No rush. Whenever you’re ready.” Taking a step back, she runs and swings off the platform. “Now!” I call before the wind starts. She releases the rope and soars in a graceful arc, landing in a pile of leaves. As soon as she lands, a cheer erupts from a crowd that’s hidden beyond a barrier shield.
One down, five to go.
Poor Behar has to hold onto the rope for longer than necessary because of the wind, but he somehow makes it back to the platform and asks when to let go. When the wind picks up again, he ignores it, dismounting at the point where I told him and crossing the finish line.
Once Baxter is safely on the other side, I guide the rest of my team through the course. The wind has slowed, and I assume Puck has focused all his efforts on his team or has realized he’s going to lose and has given up.
Hades crosses the finish line last, winking at me as she dismounts the rope swing. Once she’s through, I fly across the border. The Varesen Forest turns from Spring to Autumn, green leaves shifting to gold and crimson and brown. The light slants differently through the trees here, casting everything in a softer glow, and the temperature drops so low I shiver.
“Lysandra is the victor of the first trial!” Devorah announces, and magic that was concealing the crowd drops away, revealing a host of Fae nobles and monarchs who cheer and call my name.
Puck’s team is nowhere in sight.
Izar, freshly unblinded and magic restored, runs over and scoops me into his arms while the rest of the team surrounds me, giving out hugs and clapping me on the back. “That was brilliant,” he says, loud enough for the courtiers to hear. “You should have seen the way she handled Puck’s sabotage.”
The crowd oohs and ahs while Izar romanticizes the challenge, making it seem like his ankle was broken on the last obstacle and how I all but saved his life by learning to thwart our invisible enemies.
“We’ll have a conversation with the dryads,” Devorah says, her ocean-blue eyes so accusing that the trees seem to shrink away from her. “Not that it was against the rules, but they should have been impartial.”
“They won anyway,” Celesta says. Since the beginning of the trial, she’s shed her robe and is completely naked, save for the hair that drapes over her breasts. “And as the winner, Lysandra, we’ll expect you to host a victory ball in one week’s time.”
“I thought there was a ball tonight,” I say. Hades snorts. “What’s the ball tonight?”
“Your welcome ball, of course,” Gwyneira says. “Everyone in the kingdom will be in attendance to see if they’re your fated mate.”
Oh, shit.
How did I not know about this?
All eyes are on me while I try to respond to this bombshell in the most diplomatic way possible. It’s not that I don’t want a fated mate. Seeing Izar and Baxter mated was so magical, it’s hard not to want that for myself. I just assumed I would have more time in the realm. I want people to be focused on my win today, on my bid for the crown, not my love life.
“I—” I start, fighting to keep my face neutral.
“Don’t fight it,” Larisa murmurs, low enough that the others won’t hear. I turn to face her, and she’s smiling wide, the picture of calm and grace, but her eyes are stern. I’m not sure what I did to earn her friendship, but I’m grateful for it.
“I don’t have a dress,” I laugh, and the crowd around me visibly relaxes.
“I’ll send Melia to your rooms in an hour,” Gwyneira says. “She’ll create something wonderful for you.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.
There’s a loud oomph on the other side of the barrier, and then Edina comes stumbling over the line, clutching her side. “Was finishing necessary?” she shouts as one of her fathers rushes over and inspects her wounds. “We lost. The plummet off the death swing seems a little excessive.”
One by one, Puck’s team either lands in the pile of leaves designated for them or stumbles out from behind the barrier, wincing as they miss their intended target. When Eldoris emerges, he’s holding the queen of the Summer Court in his arms bridal style.
“Mother?” Devorah asks, then turns to the other monarchs, who return her accusatory stare with unreadable expressions. “What did you do?” she spits through clenched teeth. The siren rushes over to Eldoris and Queen Talia to give them the antidote to her venom so he can break the blinding spell.
“Talia graciously agreed to be a part of the trial today, didn’t she tell you?” Zahir says, a smarmy smile on his lips. Devorah bares her teeth in a snarl. “Watch yourself, princess.”
Devorah steps closer to him, managing to look down on him despite being several inches shorter. “You may be a king now, Zahir, but don’t for one second think you can hurt my family without finding some very valuable possessions on fire.” She glances down toward his dick, in case her meaning was unclear. “I’d hate to break this tenuous peace we’re experiencing.”
“You don’t have that authority,” he sneers.
Devorah opens her mouth, but Eldoris lays a hand on her shoulder. Fury lines her features as she meets her brother’s eyes, and they have a silent conversation before Devorah relents. With a last withering look at Zahir, she stomps over to her mother, takes her hand, and teleports away.
“What happened?” I ask Hades, who looks ready to cut her brother’s arm off.
“He’s a pompous dick,” she says loud enough to be heard. “And he’s only been worse since he’s become king. It’s the small penis thing—makes him feel like he needs to prove himself.”
Zahir’s expression turns murderous. “That’s not what your girlfriend had to say.”
“You fucking—”
Hades’ shadows snap out, but like a coward, Zahir teleports away in a cloud of bitter-scented magic. Hades grabs Minthe’s arm and disappears as well, leaving the rest of us standing around in the wake of their feud.
“We’ll see you all at the ball tonight,” Gwyneira says in clear dismissal. The siren hands out antidotes to the rest of Puck’s team—the blinding spell had already been removed by Larisa—and everyone starts trickling away. It’s then I notice Puck hasn’t emerged from the forest. I watch the barrier, wanting to confront him about his tricks, but he doesn’t emerge.
“He’s gone to his treehouse to lick his wounds,” Edina says, appearing beside me. “He’ll be at the ball tonight; you can gloat then.”
“Who said I wanted to gloat?”
Edina scoffs. “I’ve trained with you, Lysandra. You beat me in sparring twice, and both times you were insufferable. I’m not saying you don’t have the right, but maybe wait until tomorrow. This loss hurts him.”
“Why should I care about that?” Even as I ask it, there’s a slight twinge in my chest.
“You shouldn’t,” she shrugs. “But you do.”
She joins her betrothed and they teleport away.
I’m not sure how long I linger in the forest, but I take my time making my way back to the palace. The forest calls to my earth magic, centering me amidst the swirling tempest of emotions. The need to prove myself is so constant, pushing me forward even though my legs can only run so fast. The forest helps. Even though they sided with Puck earlier, the trees reach out in apology, their leaves tickling my skin while the grasses sway around my ankles. I place my hands along their barks, feeling for any weaknesses in the wood that I can fix, but there are none. The forest is healthy and alive.
After I’m sure I’ll be late for the appointment with the seamstress, I unfurl my wings and take to the sky, keeping within the canopy so I can be surrounded by the trees as long as possible. As I fly, I come across an unnatural glint. The sunlight reflects into my eyes, and when I shield them, I see a house built into one of the thickest trees. It’s so well camouflaged I would have missed it if not for the glare.
Puck is standing on the balcony. His hair is mussed and he holds a tumbler of whiskey in his hands. He stares straight into the forest—not in my direction—his eyes blank and his shoulders bunched up to his ears.
I’ve seen Puck furious and I’ve seen him when he’s charming a crowd, but this…
He looks lost.
He switches from staring at the tree line to staring into his glass, studying the remaining amber liquid with a frown. I perch on a branch, watching as he swirls the drink around and around, coating the sides of the glass before he lets it hang over the railing.
I have the strangest urge to go to him and ease the worry lining his brow, but that would be insane. I have nothing to apologize for. I won, fair and square. I didn’t make him this miserable.
His chin jerks in my direction and I still, hiding behind the bark as much as I can while peering at him. I can’t seem to look away. When he’s decided he hasn’t heard anything, he tips the glass to his mouth and swallows the drink in one gulp. His tongue flicks a bead of the whiskey from his bottom lip. Then, he turns and goes back into the treehouse.
I wait a few more seconds, until I’m sure he won’t return, before heading back to the palace, the vision of his haunted eyes plaguing me the entire way.
Melia is a brownie who barely reaches my boobs height-wise, and she’s one of the most intimidating Fae I’ve met. She stands me on a pedestal, strips me down so I’m naked as a babe, and then proceeds to pinch every soft and squishy part of me as she measures me for a gown. I haven’t been self-conscious of my body in years, but the females in Faerie are all so thin that I was worried what Melia would do with my full figure. It took me years of misshapen clothes and wrong brands to figure out what clothing makes me feel like a goddess.
Melia gets it right on the first try.
The wine-colored gown she makes for me has a corseted top that cinches the smallest part of my waist and flares out, giving me an hourglass figure. My boobs topple over the low neckline, but the slim straps over my shoulders magically keep them from escaping completely. The skirt flows gently from my waist in a gauzy material that sparkles every time I move. She forces me into a pair of heels, but even those don’t pinch my toes the way I expected. The supple leather makes it feel more like I’m wearing sneakers rather than stilettos.
“You look lovely,” Farah says as she curls my hair. Today, she came armed with so many spells I think my hair will be curly forever. “I have a surprise for you.”
She reaches into the air and withdraws a simple tiara. It’s comprised of iridescent gems like opals—if opals were lit from within. Each cluster of gems is in the shape of a flower.
“This is from the royal treasury.” She places the tiara on my head. I instantly straighten, my shoulders lowering and my chin rising, as if the act of wearing the crown sunk into my entire body.
“Am I allowed to wear this?” I ask.
“You’re the princess,” she says simply.
I chuckle because she’s right. I’m technically the only one entitled to this tiara.
She places a matching necklace around my neck, using her earth magic to lengthen the metal chain so the flower pendant sits between my breasts. “Did you know my mother?” I ask, meeting her eyes in the mirror. I’ve heard so many negative things, but it’s hard to imagine that she was so one-dimensional. There has to be someone with a kind word regarding her. Something redeeming.
“I was her lady’s maid toward the end,” she admits. I’m not sure why she didn’t tell me sooner, but I wait, letting her continue. “She was…everyone thought she was evil. I won’t deny she did some truly despicable things—especially what she did to Interim King Puck—but she was always kind to me. I think she was desperate to prove herself, and that thirst for power corrupted her mind. It was never enough.”
“Do you know anything about where she came from? Does she have any family?”
“Not that I know of. She was born in a poor village in the Oraiste Mountains in the Day Court, but I don’t believe she spoke with them after she left to work in the palace. I can look for the name of the village.”
“She worked in the Day Court palace?”
“She was a lady’s maid.” She beams. “She was beside the late Day Court queen at a party when King Oberon saw her and said he had to have her. She wasn’t his mate—I’m not sure he ever met his mate—but he was enchanted by her. The Day Court used your mother as a bargaining chip; her hand for an alliance between the courts.”
“I had no idea.” I wonder if she ever loved Oberon, or if he was merely the start of her quest for power. I can’t imagine being sold into a marriage, but I can see how that would change a person.
“We should go to your ball,” Farah says, squeezing my shoulders. “You may meet the love of your life tonight.”
I can’t explain my intense dread at the thought of that, but I shake it off and head to the party.