Chapter 9 #2
She draws back her small shoulders, showing bravery in spite of the difficult situation she’s currently trapped within.
“I want to go back to the human world. Where my horse is.” She pauses, then adds, “I don’t want to be bothered again.
.. and I want the fae to stop taking human sacrifices. Completely.”
It’s not what I expected. Not by a long shot. I glance over at King Ashton, who raises an eyebrow in surprise. King Sylvian’s jaw tightens, and King Oberon’s scowl deepens. Her request is simple, almost... trivial. No demands for wealth. No desire for power. Just… this.
I’m not sure whether to be impressed or frustrated.
“That’s it?” King Ashton asks, incredulous.
He crosses his arms, his usual teasing grin replaced with a mix of confusion and curiosity.
“No perfect lover tied up and delivered to your doorstep? No magic or power given to your family? No wish for gold? A castle? A title?” His tone is light, but there’s a sharp edge to it, a challenge to understand what’s going on in her head.
Alette takes a long moment, as if she’s truly considering the question. There’s a faint flicker of something, something darker, something colder, in her eyes before she finally answers. The conviction in her voice surprises me.
“I want to kill one specific fae.”
The words hang in the air, thick with surprise. Even I’m caught off guard, though I try to hide it beneath a facade of calm. King Oberon’s nostrils flare, and King Sylvian takes a step forward, his brows furrowed in confusion. We all exchange glances, unable to comprehend what she’s just said.
A fae?
“Which fae?” I ask, my own curiosity overriding my caution.
Her lips curl, but it’s not a smile. It’s something darker, more determined. “A fae.”
“It’s not one of us?” I ask, wanting to clarify, needing to understand how deep this desire for revenge runs.
She shakes her head, her eyes fierce and unwavering. “No, not one of you.”
“And no one close to us?”
She frowns. “I don’t think so.”
I can’t help but let out a soft, incredulous chuckle, though it lacks any real humor.
This woman… there’s something in her that makes my chest tighten.
Something unpredictable. Something dangerous.
She could have asked for anything, anything at all, but this, this request for violence, for death, it’s not what I expected.
It’s almost as unexpected as her first request for essentially nothing.
The kings and I exchange uncertain glances, sensing the weight of her words, the implications hanging in the air like smoke.
We’re not fools. We all know what this means.
There’s an undercurrent of emotion she’s not revealing, and yet we can’t press her further, not yet.
For now, we’ll settle for what she’s willing to give us.
Looking at one another, each of us in turn nods. It’s an agreement then.
“If that will make you our willing partner, then we agree,” I tell her, my voice steady, although I feel anything but calm right now.
One by one, we place our hands together in the center.
She hesitates before placing her hand down, the faintest tremor in her fingers.
The dagger at her side pulses with light, its blade glowing softly in the moonlight, an acknowledgment of the pact we’re forging.
There’s an odd sense of finality to the act, a sense of fate sealing itself between us.
The glow from the dagger intensifies briefly, casting long shadows across the forest, and I can’t shake the feeling that this moment was set in motion long before she was ever strapped to the altar. It feels like destiny weaves itself around us, tangible and unyielding.
But it’s her, Alette, who draws my attention most of all.
There’s something about her that bothers me, a sense of emptiness that clings to her, something that feels off.
Most humans would have been overjoyed, perhaps even overwhelmed, to be bound to four fae kings, four powerful, immortal beings.
But not Alette. She looks troubled. Disturbed, even.
As if the weight of our bond means nothing but another heavy burden for her to bear.
I find myself wondering what happened to her. What did she lose? What made her so... joyless?
What kind of woman, when offered everything, seems to ask for nothing?
I glance at her face, trying to read the lines of her expression. There’s a weariness to her, a hollowness in her eyes, like she’s already been through a war, and perhaps she has. But the question still lingers… what made her this way?
“The deal is done then,” I whisper, the words feeling strangely heavy.
“The deal is done,” the other three kings echo, their voices melding into one, a strange harmony that hangs in the air.
I shake my head as our hands drop, as if trying to dispel the thoughts that crowd my mind. I should focus on the task at hand, on the labyrinth, our magic, and the agreement we’ve forged. There will be time to understand her later, if she lets us.
The dagger’s glow fades, the coolness of its light dissipating like a dream slipping from my grasp.
King Ashton’s voice cuts through the silence, vibrant and teasing.
“Well, now that everything’s settled,” he says, flashing that trademark grin of his, the one that always seems to charm the room, “let’s head back to the celebration.
I’m sure they’ve brought out the honeyed wine by now.
” He offers her his arm, the gesture light and casual.
Alette looks at him, then at the others, as if weighing her options, a storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface. There’s a great deal of hesitation in her movements when she finally takes his arm, and the slight stiffness in her posture doesn’t escape my notice.
She’s not happy about it. But she’s going along with it. She’s going along with us.
A woman who doesn’t want to be in the company of the four fae kings… Has there ever been a stranger thing?
I watch her as she walks beside King Ashton, her back straight, her expression carefully closed off.
There’s something in the way she moves, something that’s so different from us.
So detached. So careful not to give anything away.
She’s not like any human I’ve met. There’s more to her than meets the eye.
And for reasons I can’t explain, I need to know what it is.
The rest of us fall in line behind them, the weight of our decision hanging heavily between us. But the real question still remains… who is this chosen human we’re tied to? Who is Alette?
And is she really the key to our freedom?