Chapter 8
“She’s the Princess of Bailoc. Have you lost your mind?” Fyn’s voice cracked.
I awoke to their muffled voices. The moon’s glow drifted in through the window.
“The divide let her cross. She’s part-fae,” Lioran said.
“She may be part-fae, but she is still very much part-human,” Fyn growled. “Even if he isn’t her father, he will still come for her. Bailoc isn’t going to let their princess cross into enemy territory and stay.”
“They can’t cross the divide to get her.”
“No, but there are those who may cross it for him,” Fyn warned.
I didn’t know of any who would. King Ardyn would never make a deal with the fae.
The fireplace cracked as the sound of shifting longs stirred.
“And when your father finds out? What will you do?” Fyn asked. “Your position won’t protect you both.”
Whatever his position was, he hadn’t disclosed it. Fyn mentioned it like it was important, but maybe it wasn’t significant enough. He introduced himself only as I had first introduced myself.
I waited in the quaint room, too nervous to come out and face them. My stomach had other plans—it resounded with a loud growl.
The floorboards creaked with each unsteady step. A navy, silk nightgown clung to my curves, more revealing than I was used to. Had someone changed me? I had no memory of it, but sincerely hoped it was Neena.
The cool metal doorknob twisted in my hand. I hoped it would creak and alert them before I stepped foot into the main room.
Lioran and Fyn sat up in their chairs as I slid my arm across the nightgown. Fyn lifted a woolen blanket from the chair and draped it over my shoulders. Lioran fixated on the fireplace.
I adjusted the rough fabric and slid into a seat next to the fire. The scent of herbs still wafted through the air.
Lioran ladled soup into the bowl. “It’s all I have to offer right now, but if you’re hungry, eat.” He handed me a small clay bowl.
I hesitated, clutching the bowl with shaking fingers.
“Eat, Aelira.” His melodic voice drew out my name—Ay-leer-uh. “You’ll need to regain your strength,” Lioran commanded.
“That’s not how you say my name.” I had never heard it said that way. “It’s Uh-leer-uh,” I replied firmly.
“I said it how the fae do. If you insist, I say it the human way, I will,” Lioran responded.
I stared at him. My name had a place in their world—they knew how to say it in a way that made it beautiful.
“No.” I liked the way it sounded when he said it. “You knew the King of Bailoc is not my father.” I lifted the bowl to my lips, sipping the steaming broth. Warmth ran through me. My stomach whined, calling for more.
Lioran nodded as I sipped the soup again.
“Did you know there was a half-fae princess in Bailoc before you met me?” Fyn and Lioran exchanged a telling glance.
“Yes.” Lioran’s voice softened. His fingertips tapped an uneven rhythm on the arm of the chair.
“How did you know?” The broth splashed on my lips.
Lioran leaned forward in his chair. “The reason you’re part-fae has caused a great deal of animosity on both sides of the divide.”
“She doesn’t know.” Fyn’s eyes grew wide. The firelight glimmered off the golden streaks in his hair.
Sprigs of herbs floated on the hazy surface of my soup. “Why?”
“Your father…your true father is one of our people.” Lioran shifted in his chair. His voice was softer than before. “When King Ardyn found out, he was outraged.”
“She betrayed him.” I read the truth, but hearing it was different.
Fyn shook his head. “It’s what started the whole war.”
My bowl landed with a thud on the table. I gripped the wooden arms of the chair even harder.
“Everything I was taught…everything I was told…” I shook my head. “The fae didn’t start the war?” My leg muscle clenched, spasming. “How is that possible?”
“It’s easier to alter the story rather than face the consequences of the truth.” Lioran pressed the palms of his hands together. “It is well known he tells his own version.” Lines set around his eyes as he squinted at me.
“So, he just lied…about all of it?” I traced the edge of my bowl. “No.” I shook my head. “It can’t be.”
Lioran’s gaze softened.
Silence hung between us.
“You’ve been through a lot. We will discuss this another time.” Lioran leaned back in his chair.
“No. You will tell me now.” I slammed my palms into the arms of the chair. “This is why you took me with you, isn’t it? You’re going to use me to get back at him.”
My legs struggled to bear my weight with the next frantic step. I crashed down into the chair again.
Fyn let out an exasperated sigh.
“You crossed the divide and nearly got yourself killed. I took care of you. Yet you’re going to command me?” Lioran scolded. “You are insufferable.”
Fyn’s hand curved around his mouth.
We sat in the silence until my body grew heavier.
Lioran didn’t look up at me as I finally mustered the strength to pull myself upright again. I gripped the wall, guiding each stumbling step back into my room. Sleep greeted me the minute my head hit the pillow.
The blank walls of the cabin room startled me when I woke again—I had forgotten I wasn’t in Bailoc anymore. Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. A new riding tunic lay on the bed.
Each muscle resisted as I yanked the stiff, olive tunic over my head, and again when I freed my hair from the braid. My dark waves cascaded down and covered my ears—the lingering proof of my heritage.
The hinge creaked as I opened the door and peeked into the cabin. Rustling leaves shimmered in sunlight outside the cabin. The view transcended any I had seen before. Bird song rang through a slender crack at the base of the window.
Steam rose from Lioran’s drink, it encircled his face. Dark shadows settled beneath his eyes.
Lioran was dressed in a fresh tunic, the same shade as mine.
“Did you stay here all night?” I didn’t know why I asked it.
“Yes.” Lioran gripped ruffled papers. His eyes skimmed words etched into parchment.
“There isn’t another bed. Where did you sleep?”
Lioran peered over his papers. “I slept in the chair.”
“Why?” I asked.
“The bed wasn’t big enough for both of us.” A flicker of amusement gleamed in his eyes.
My cheeks seared.
“I was only joking,” he said.
“Oh.” I sat down in the chair. “Of course.” I cursed myself for the words I uttered—for my expressions that gave away my every thought.
Lioran said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” I spoke again. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me. I shouldn’t have demanded anything.”
“Yesterday…was a lot for us all.” He didn’t look up again.
“Thank you for helping me.” I wanted to ask why he did—wanted to know why he risked bringing me here. Fyn had been so opposed to me at the mention of my name.
Lioran nodded. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
“I am,” I replied.
“You should eat something. You’ll need your strength before the rest of our journey.
” Lioran set his papers down. He pointed to a plate full of vibrant red fruits, eggs, and the most vivid greens.
I sat in the chair beside it, bringing the first morsel to my mouth.
The sweet juice squirted into my mouth as I took my first bite.
I hadn’t had anything so fresh, so ripe, in years.
“Where are we headed?” The nerves that settled while I slept stirred again. My life had been so monotonous, but now I did not know what the next hour held. He still had not told me what he planned to do with me.
“The Heart of Lythira.”
“And what will become of me there?” I asked. The sharp pain in my arm nagged at me as he spoke.
“As long as you are in my care, I will provide everything you need. We will devise a plan from there.” He sipped his drink.
An ache gnawed deep inside me, rivaling the pain in my arm.
“You will decide my fate?” Silence rested between us for a moment. “If you intend to turn me over to Bailoc or keep me locked away…then take me back to the woods so the sylkren can finish what it started.”
“I’m not sure that would be safe for the sylkren.” His eyes softened, and for a minute a faint shadow of a smirk formed. “It is not in my nature to use anyone for political gain.”
Lioran’s calm unsettled me.
No matter how much I prodded, he held his ground.
“Where will you go after you take me to the Heart of Lythira?”
“The Heart is my home. It is the capital of our territory.” His words were stark as they left his lips. Tension melted from his shoulders.
Lioran walked toward me, towering over me. His fingers gently brushed my arm as he released the bandage. “This will heal nicely with some rest.” He held my arm as he tightened the dressing again. I exhaled the moment he released me.
“The food tastes incredible.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Your fae senses have developed nicely then.”
“My fae senses?” I shook my head in confusion.
“Fae smell, hear, and taste better than most humans.”
The fruit juices slid around on my tongue. I savored each bold flavor.
“When I crossed the divide, something about me changed. Could it have altered me?” The book ensured me it hadn’t, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it.
“I don’t believe the divide holds the power to alter.”
“My ears…” They were still foreign to me.
“They didn’t look like this in Bailoc?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“There are many types of magic. If there was a concern for your safety in Bailoc, someone may have used protection magic to conceal your fae side,” he said.
My father told my mother to conceal me in his letter. They were protecting me from the human realm. I slumped back into my chair.
“Magic...” I repeated, thinking of his glittering light. “Does your magic protect others too?”
He exhaled. “I can’t conceal the way you look, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No…I….” I didn’t know what to say.
“I have business to attend to in the village. Stay here and rest. I’ll be back to check on you later.” Lioran exited the cabin quickly.
Had I offended him? Maybe, you’re not supposed to ask about someone’s magic. There was so much I had to learn.