Chapter Ten. Etan
TEN
ETAN
I made my way through the halls, unable to bring myself to regret the harsh words I’d given Fallon.
While they may not have been fun for her to hear and might have made her regret the future that we would have together, she needed to know that when I said I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, I meant it.
I would act against her wishes if it meant looking out for her in the way she seemed unwilling to do for herself.
I would lock her in a room to prevent her from putting herself in harm’s way.
And I would conspire to sneak her out of Tar Mesa while her only friends and allies slept, making it impossible for them to try to stop me from removing her from the growing threat of her mother.
A woman who was capable of murdering her brother, the man who had been closer to her than any other I could recall, would not hesitate to murder the daughter she considered a great disappointment.
In all my experience with Mab, once someone was out of her sight, they were typically out of mind.
She didn’t spare time to think of those she could not reach to harm, and taking Fallon to the Summer Court was undoubtedly in her best interest—even if she vehemently disagreed with the sentiment.
I knew where I would find Mab without asking any of the courtiers I passed, their pale faces a good indication of the horror they’d witnessed.
None had been present for the Tithe; very few were permitted outside of those who had the magic of the Gods in their veins.
Only Mab’s chosen favorites were allowed, unless they were an active part of the Tithe, and the common Sidhe who roamed the hall were not on her list of special pets.
I descended the stairs toward the entrance, curving my way toward the throne room and the screams that came from within.
A male Sidhe stepped out of the shadows, his face drawn.
“Terence,” I said, nodding to him as I closed the distance between us.
Inside the throne room, the woman’s screams reached a new level, the sound of her pain echoing off the stone walls.
I shoved my reaction to it down, forcing my face to remain an indifferent mask as I met the Summer Court Fae’s gaze.
“What do we do now?” he asked, blinking his dark eyes as he seemed to attempt to shake off the stupor that Rheaghan’s death had left us all in. He’d been our King for so long, it seemed impossible to know how to move forward without him to guide us.
I clapped my hand down on the male’s shoulder, holding his stare as his nostrils flared.
Some of the pallor faded from his deep brown skin, his breath evening out as we stood there.
In spite of the horror being committed, we would make a plan between us to guide the rest of our people who had come to the Shadow Court along with us.
The ones who may not have heard the news of Rheaghan’s death yet.
“Gather the others. Tell them to pack quickly. We leave tonight,” I said, earning his wide eyes.
“Will she allow that?” he asked, swallowing as he glanced through the entryway.
“She will if she wants her daughter to be queen,” I said, smiling slightly.
His mouth pressed into a line, his disapproval of my pending marriage very clear in the drawn lines of his face.
No one would approve of Fallon until they knew her, because unknowns were not welcome in Alfheimr. I’d known I would face an uphill battle in endearing her to my people when we returned home, as all any of us knew about her was that she was the daughter of the Queen of Air and Darkness herself.
There was no reassurance that she would be a kind queen when all that my people knew of her was her lineage, and it would take time to reframe her from Mab’s daughter to Rheaghan’s niece.
That was not an easy hurdle to overcome, I admitted.
I’d thought I would have time to conquer that without the pressures of a crown weighing us down.
She could make the people adore her while she maintained an irrelevant position as the wife to Rheaghan’s second-in-command, something that few would concern themselves over.
“This was her plan all along, wasn’t it?” he asked, his voice going soft. “The moment she betrothed her daughter to you, she had already decided to kill Rheaghan.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, shaking off the guilt that clung to my chest. I’d been the one to put the idea in her head of Fallon and I marrying, and if that was true, I didn’t want to think of the fact that I’d also inadvertently made her decide she would rather see her daughter on the throne than her brother.
The guilt of that would swallow me whole, and even as an unknown, it was something that would be with me for the rest of my life.
“It doesn’t matter much now. All we can do is stress that Fallon and I need to return home to be crowned before one of the Gods decides to try to take advantage of an unruled court.
Make sure our people are ready quickly.”
I moved into the open doorway to the throne room, not bothering to spare a glance for the woman who knelt on the stone floor before the dais.
I didn’t know her name, didn’t want to know it.
It was far easier to sleep at night when the victims were faceless, when they didn’t have names to accompany their screams. “My Queen,” I said, kneeling to the side of the dais.
I knew better than to get between Mab and her latest plaything, instead choosing to hang my head forward in complete subjugation and wait for her to acknowledge me.
She withdrew her shadows from the woman, and I saw the woman’s quivering mass fall to her stomach on the floor.
I still refused to look at Mab, keeping my eyes pinned to the stone.
“Etan,” Mab said, her steps echoing as she made her way toward me.
She descended the stairs slowly, the click of her heeled shoes deliberately paced until the pointed toes of them came into view.
“Have you come to scold me, too?” she asked, her voice laced with honey and warning, with seduction and menace.
“Of course not, my Queen,” I said, shaking my head.
It made me sick to my stomach, but I sank into that well-practiced space where Rheaghan had often sent me to handle Mab when she’d been difficult as a girl.
To give her the approval she wanted in veiled comments, to lend her my support, all the while attempting to guide her to more …
kind decisions in the future. “I am certain you did only what you felt you must.”
“He asked me for permission to marry!” she said, stepping away from me. I raised my gaze from the floor, staring up at her in surprise as she spun in an aggravated circle. “Do you know who tempted him to do such a thing?”
“I do not,” I said, swallowing back the feelings of betrayal that surged within me.
He’d spoken nothing to me, given me no signs that he’d found someone he wanted for more than even just a single night.
“He mentioned nothing to me, but then he knew my loyalty lies with you. If he wanted it to remain a secret, I do not believe he would have spoken of it to me.”
“He said I would not have noticed her absence, so it is highly unlikely she would have been worthy of his hand at any rate,” Mab said, as if she found the thought of her brother marrying beneath his station particularly distasteful.
“I offered to find him a suitable bride. He declined. Do you believe that?” She waved her injured hand, wrapped in fabric to disguise the truth of what I’d only seen hints of beneath.
Even still, the misshapen bulk of it curled in unnaturally, like the bones had never set properly when it healed.
I wondered if this occurred before or after Mab had betrothed Fallon to me.
It couldn’t have been Fallon herself that she planned to wed to Rheaghan, but I also couldn’t put it past Mab entirely.
A marriage of convenience didn’t need to be consummated, and it would be the easiest way to see her daughter on the throne without giving up her own.
“Perhaps whoever this person is, Rheaghan wanted to marry them because he loved them,” I explained, watching as Mab’s eyes narrowed in disgust.
“Love,” she spat, making her thoughts on the emotion clear. She wanted nothing to do with anything that might weaken her, and that was entirely how she saw the emotion. I couldn’t fault her for it, not after having seen the way she used loved ones against her enemies.
“On that, we agree, my Queen,” I said, forcing myself to smile up at her. She returned the sentiment, lowering into her throne and raising her good hand to signify that I should stand.
“If I were inclined, I just may have taken you for my own husband, Etan. You are one of my most loyal charges,” she said, running her nails over the bare skin of her chest. She’d mentioned it several times, particularly when we’d been children, to the point that I worried she would follow through one day.
That I’d be forced to marry a woman I had once seen as a sister, and now only saw as a monstrous damnation of everything she had been once upon a time.
But it had never come to pass, not even after she’d rid herself of the husband who gave her the Shadow Court.
She would never again share her throne.
“You honor me, my Queen,” I said, the words feeling like ash in my mouth.
“How is my daughter faring, after the loss of her friend,” she said, the word feeling like an insult.
I had no doubt sending Estrella to Tartarus was only partially because the woman seemed more likely to succeed in the quest that Mab’s other victims had been unable to do.
It also served the purpose of severing her daughter’s bond with the woman Fallon valued far more than she ever would her own mother.
Stealing Fallon away would mean she was separated from Imelda as well.
I had no doubt that if we remained, Imelda would be the next to suffer Mab’s wrath. The thought alone had me glancing toward the figure before the dais, but the woman was a far cry from the witch who’d raised Fallon.
“I detained her in my rooms for the time being,” I said, shrugging as if it was inconsequential. “The girl doesn’t seem to know how to contain her emotions appropriately, but we will work on that,” I said, earning a nod of approval from Mab.
“Good. She could do with a lesson in respect,” Mab said, smiling broadly.
In the days after my betrothal to Fallon, she’d asserted her expectations that I would bring her wayward daughter to heel.
That I would use whatever means I felt were necessary to train Fallon into something Mab could be proud of.
“I apologize to admit that I came to ask a favor of you, my Queen,” I said, bowing my head forward. Asking anything of her could be volatile at best, deadly most days.
“You wish to take my daughter and leave,” she said, knowing the question I would ask before I could even voice it. It was the strategic move, returning home to fill the void of power. Even Mab had to see that.
“I worry what would happen if one of the other Gods were to return to the Summer Court before Fallon and I have had ample time to make our journey according to our bridal traditions. If her magic truly does belong to the Summer Court, it may not pass to her until she sets foot on summer soil and exposes herself to it. I would hate for it to pass her over in favor of another,” I explained, trailing off.
Mab was familiar with the Summer Court and the ways we prepared our brides for marriage, of what occurred in the days leading up to the crowning of a new King and Queen. There was a process to become the heir.
“Fuck the traditions,” she said with a scoff, rolling her eyes. “Simply kill anyone who may oppose your rule. It is only a matter of time before Rheaghan’s magic passes to Fallon at any rate, and none will be able to argue with her right to rule once that occurs.”
“If it passes to her. The magic of the Summer Court could always pass to you, my Queen,” I said, offering up the uncertainty in who the court itself would choose as heir.
There was always a slight unpredictability to it, if the next natural choice was unworthy of such things for any reason.
The magic of Faerie was wild and untamed and often did whatever it wanted; lineage was a strong indicator, but not the ultimate one.
“No, I’ve long since given up hope that would occur.
If I thought it possible, I’d have killed Rheaghan sooner.
The magic of the Summer Court will pass over me.
The light has long been lost to me in a way that will never recover,” she said, staring off into the distance for a moment.
There was something almost wistful about her expression, an indication that maybe she missed the warmth of her home court.
“Whatever happens, as helpful as it may be to have in the face of opposition, I think it more prudent that we attempt to quell any rebellion before it begins. Fallon honoring traditions that are not her own would go a long way toward endearing her to my people,” I said, keeping my voice soft.
There was no reproach, only a gentle reminder that a peaceful coup always offered more strength than a violent one.
“Very well, then,” Mab said, raising her hand to peel dried blood from her fingers.
“I will see that the Gods are not permitted to leave for five days’ time.
Will that give you the head start you require to be crowned before any other Gods can make an offering to the magic?
” she asked, her stare already turning bored.
Her attention on me flagged, moving back to the woman she clearly intended to torment more after I left her in peace.
“That would be most generous of you,” I said, nodding my head in agreement.
“Yes, it would, wouldn’t it? Off you go, then,” she said, her voice eerily cheerful. I swallowed down my unease for the woman she looked to, knowing that she would never leave this throne room alive.
“Thank you, my Queen,” I said, turning to give Mab my back and leaving her to her fate as I escaped with those who mattered to me.
“Oh, and Etan?” she called as she descended the steps.
The click of her heels forced me to look at her over my shoulder, at the slowly gathering mass of shadows at her side that I prayed were not intended for me.
“I expect my daughter to be reformed, next I see her. I would hate to be disappointed in how you handle her.”
“Understood,” I said, bowing my head before I retreated from the room to the sound of a whip cracking through the air.
But it wasn’t meant for me, not yet anyway.