Chapter 3
Aoife
Isat across from Lor, candlelight dancing over his rugged face, the room dark other than our little table. Rose petals spread out across the floor. I snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. That Ambrose, of all people, would’ve been involved in this.
“The chicken is good,” Lor said, chewing. “You should try it.”
“Why didn’t you sign my request to change our schedules?” I asked, twirling my butter knife between my fingers. It was taking all my restraint not to stab Lor with it.
He didn’t look remotely perturbed. So rigid, so cold. “Because it wouldn’t benefit our people,” he said.
I groaned, my head tipping back as I stared up at the ceiling, at the shadows from the candles dancing across it. “You do know that in order for our people to thrive, we need to do so as well. And I’m not thriving. I need space. From you.”
His stubbled jaw ticked, and pleasure shot through me that I’d gotten that reaction out of him. It was hardly noticeable, but it was there.
“Why?” His brown eyes shot up to meet mine. “We don’t need to be enemies. Can’t we just find a way to work together?”
I leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “What do you think we’ve been trying to do for the last two years? It’s not working.”
“It could if you would just . . .”
I groaned again, so frustrated I wanted to tear my hair out. It was always me. I was always the problem somehow.
“You do know it takes two people to be in a marriage,” I said. “In a partnership.”
“I’ve noticed tension lately among our people. Just early this morning I witnessed Myrna jabbing a fish into Gidhe’s chest.”
I snorted at that image. I liked Myrna. She was a fierce one. “I would’ve gotten out my snacks, sat down, and had a nice show.”
“It’s not funny,” he said, his jaw working back and forth. “We need each other. The Fair Folk are still in danger. You might not be cursed or invisible anymore, but as long as the brotherhood are out there, you’ll be a target. If they managed to capture one of you—”
“We don’t need anything from you.” My anger flared. “I broke my curse and came back, so it’s only a matter of time before we eliminate the brotherhood. We won’t be trapped here forever.”
“I broke your curse,” he corrected, his dark eyes boring into me, the same way they had when I’d first awoken two years ago, Lor’s face the first thing I’d seen in thousands of years, his dark waves brushing his shoulders, his strong jaw clenched, eyes pinched in concern.
“And I don’t think anyone sees Fairwitch Isle as a ‘trap’ except for you.
In fact, the Fair Folk seem incredibly happy here. ”
His words twisted my heart. It was true.
My people did seem happy here, happy to just follow the mortal laws, happy to partake in mortal traditions, happy to be ruled by a mortal.
And here I was on the outside, not understanding any of it, not knowing how to insert myself when they’d moved on, lived thousands of years, without me.
I looked down at the roasted chicken. Even our food had no trace of the Fair Folk in it. We’d never eaten chicken before, our diets mostly vegetarian. Yet all the Fair Folk I knew prepared meals like this, as if they’d forgotten the recipes we’d made, the meals we’d shared together.
I pushed my plate away. “Sign the damn request.”
Lor took another bite of his chicken. “No.”
“Then I’ll make your life miserable.”
“You already do,” he said, voice sounding so tired.
I let out a strangled sound of frustration. “Why are you like this?”
“Because that’s my duty. That is what I signed up for when I accepted the crown. Peace and prosperity begin with us, the leaders. We need to rise above these inane arguments.”
“We can’t agree on a single thing. We’re stuck in these roles, but we can shape them to look how we want. We don’t have to be traditional husband and wife. It’s pointless. We can’t even agree on a simple schedule change.”
“It’s not simple.” He finished his bite. “The less of a united front we are, the more our communities will fracture.”
“And is that really so bad?”
His gaze snapped to meet mine. “What does that mean?”
I shrugged. “Maybe we should be separate. Fair Folk on one side of the city and mortals on the other. We share the city and nothing else.”
Maybe then I’d feel like I had my people back. Maybe then we could rebuild what we’d lost. What I’d lost.
“And what about those who have already gotten married? There are unions between some of the Fair Folk and the mortals. You’d break them apart?”
“If it’s for the best. If it means avoiding two leaders who can’t get along. Why not?”
“Because it’s cruel and immature. If we could just act like adults—”
“You mean me?” I pointed at myself, knowing that was exactly what he meant. Lor had always been so patronizing, so condescending. Like he had all the right answers, and I had none. It was the same way I’d felt when I was a slave, powerless and unworthy.
A part of me thought that if we did separate, maybe I could get my people back. Maybe I’d recognize them again. Maybe I’d recognize myself and would know exactly where I belonged.
I stood, hands bunching into fists. Lor stood as well, looking as calm and collected as always, which only made me angrier. Why couldn’t this man show any emotion? Sometimes I felt like he was more of a statue than I’d ever been.
“The schedule isn’t changing,” he said firmly. “But we do need to come together. Or our kingdom is going to fall apart. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but this toxicity between us will leak into the community.”
I took a step forward, molars clenching so hard my jaw hurt. “You don’t get to decide everything.”
“No, I don’t.” Lor took a step forward as well, his scent washing over me, musk and bergamot, so distinctly him. I was tall, but Lor was taller, towering over me and staring down his strong, slightly curved nose in disapproval.
I glared up at him.
“We make decisions together,” he said, voice low. “You just don’t ever seem to make the right one.”
I clenched my hands so tight my nails dug into my palms. “I hate you,” I said. “I hate everything about you.” I stepped closer, so close our chests were almost touching.
Lor just stared at me, that calm mask slipping over his face that betrayed none of his thoughts, his emotions.
“You could never be my true love,” I said.
“I have no interest in being your true love,” he said evenly. “All I want is someone to rule by my side, to help me fix everything that’s broken in Fairwitch Isle and keep our people from getting hurt.”
“Someone is already hurt.” I pointed to myself. “But you don’t seem to care about me, do you?”
“I put the needs of our people first. That’s what a good leader does, Aoife.” He swung out an arm. “Good leaders are selfless. And if you can’t be that, then you shouldn’t be queen.”
It was like he’d slapped me. I’d sacrificed everything for my people, and waking up from that curse was supposed to be my freedom.
“What did I ever do to you?” Lor asked. “To make you hate me so much?”
I raised a brow, shocked that he didn’t already know. “You broke my curse, and in doing so, bound me to you. That’s what you did, Lor.”