by KJ Baker
I rolled my eyes. “Something like that. All right. I give in. Where did you put my clothes?”
He gave me a wicked grin. “Try the floor. I was in a hurry to get you out of them.”
I threw a pillow at him for that.
Half an hour later, I found myself on the way to the infirmary with Ffion and Carda walking by my side. The palace was busy this morning, with messengers and serving staff and groups of warriors marching everywhere. It had the feel of a place preparing for battle. I swallowed, tamping down on the fear the thought caused, and forced myself to concentrate on the task in hand.
We had turned into the corridor that led to the infirmary when I spotted a figure walking towards us. I balked as I recognized the expensive clothes, the flawless features and hair like beaten gold.
Simeon Ash.
“My lady!” he called when he spotted me. “A word, if you please!”
I slowed as he approached. I’d not seen the man since he’d tried to use his glamor on me in the corridor, but the memory of his touch, of his breath on my cheek, was enough to turn my stomach. I resisted the urge to turn around and walk the other way. Instead, I lifted my chin and waited.
“Yes?” I asked coolly, making no effort to hide the distaste in my voice.
“I’m glad I bumped into you,” he said smoothly, giving me a wide, ingratiating smile. “I heard that King Arion gave over care of the Moon Court refugees to you.” His tone made it clear what he thought of that decision. “And I wondered how they were doing? Such an awful thing that happened to them. We all have to do our bit, of course. Why, I’ve even given over my family apartments to house several families!”
Given over? I thought. As if you volunteered? You were made to give them up, you lying snake. “The refugees are doing just fine. Thank you for asking.”
“I heard a priestess of the Spire arrived with them. Is it true?”
“It is.”
“I would like to see her, if I may.”
I cocked my head. “Why?”
Simeon pulled a face as though this was a ridiculous question. “Because she is a priestess of the Spire. The Spire belongs to all the Fae.”
“She’s too ill to receive visitors.”
“Even so, I must insist—”
“I said no!” I hadn’t realized I’d raised my voice until I heard it echoing off the stone walls of the corridor.
Simeon stared at me, and for an instant a blaze of white-hot fury flashed across his handsome features. In the next instant, his ready smile returned. He inclined his head. “As you say, my lady.” He spun on his heel and walked away.
“What a creep,” I muttered under my breath.
Ffion snorted. “Ah, so you’ve noticed.”
I glanced at her and found her eyes fixed on the departing Simeon. They glinted with hatred.
“You look like you don’t like Simeon Ash very much,” I observed as we began walking again.
“Really?” she said, her eyes going wide in mock-surprise. “Does it show?”
I ignored her sarcasm. “Who is he?”
“The head of House Ash,” she replied, distaste curling her lip. “A very powerful and very old family. They used to hold the throne.”
I looked at her in surprise. “They did?”
She nodded. “And Simeon would be our king if it had stayed that way. Ugh. Imagine that.” She shivered exaggeratedly. “That was all a long time ago, of course. The last Ash king was a tyrant. My family led a rebellion against them. They were overthrown and my family claimed the throne. It has been with House Storm ever since.”
I digested this in silence. Raven had never mentioned any of it, but then, he never like to talk politics when we were together. I guess he got enough of that during the day.
“How long ago?” I asked.
Ffion waved a hand. “My grandfather led the rebellion and overthrew House Ash. About two thousand years ago.”
I missed a step and almost stumbled. Two thousand years ago? Ffion’s grandfather had been alive two thousand years ago? I had forgotten how long-lived the Fae were. Raven himself had been king over the Shadow Court for hundreds of years.
A sudden jolt passed through me. Jeez. How old did that make Raven? I realized that I’d never asked. I don’t think I had wanted to know. Instead, I’d pushed such concerns to the back of my mind, unwilling to face them. But if Raven was going to live for hundreds of years and I was just a mortal, that would mean...
The implications knotted my stomach. Would Raven end up alone after all? What happened after I....?
“My lady?”
It took me a moment to realize that Carda had spoken. I turned to look at the seneschal. We had reached an intersection of three passages. The infirmary lay to the left, the eating hall to the right, and the quarters that were housing the refugees straight ahead.
“I’m sorry? What?”
“I said, with your permission, I will go check on the refugees in the east wing. They were talking yesterday about forming some kind of council. They would like to meet with you later.”
I nodded. Permission? He was asking my permission? That was progress, I guess. “Sure. Thanks, Carda.”
He strode away and I turned left into the infirmary. The healers were busy flitting around the main ward, attending to the patients. I found Alrya, the chief healer, and discovered that, thankfully, there had been no deaths during the night, although it was touch-and-go whether two injured warriors would survive the day. I thanked her, left Ffion to help her, and went to check on Rillana.
The priestess still lay insensate in her bed, eyes closed. I sank onto the chair by her side.
“Morning,” I said brightly. “It’s me again. Asha. I’ve just come to see how you are. You’ll be pleased to know that all the refugees have been housed. I don’t think the nobility were too pleased about it and no doubt they’re mad as hell at me, but what’s new? If they’re gonna hate me, I may as well give them a reason to, don’t you think?”
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling across the bed. Impulsively, I reached out and took Rillana’s hand. It felt warm, rather than cold as it had done yesterday, and I noticed a thin sheen of sweat on the woman’s forehead. Was that a good sign? I had no idea.
I noticed something else as well. A smell. It was sweet, nauseatingly so, reminding me of marzipan. That definitely hadn’t been here yesterday, either.
I crossed to the door and called in one of the healers. “What’s that smell?” I asked her.
“It’s the poison,” the woman replied. “She’s beginning to sweat it out.”
“Oh. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Certainly. If her body is expelling the poison, it means she’s fighting it.”
A rush of hope went through me. “So she’ll recover?”
The healer sucked her teeth, popping my enthusiasm like a burst balloon. “We don’t know. Even if the poison doesn’t kill her, we’ve no way of knowing what damage it’s done to her body. We won’t know that until she wakes up. If she wakes up.”
She gave me an encouraging smile and then walked away. I shut the door slowly and returned to the bed. I gazed at Rillana.
“What is it you know?” I asked her. “Why did they try to kill you?”
The door opened and Ffion stuck her head around the door. “Are you finished here?”
“Just about.”
“Good. Because it’s time for another training session.”
I couldn’t stifle my groan.
“HOW MANY TIMES?” FFION snapped. “Don’t pivot that way because you’re exposing your midriff. Do you want to get sliced in half? Do you want to see your guts spilling onto the ground?”
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to remain calm, even though I really, really wanted to whack her over the head with my staff.
“Fine. Let’s go again.”
She came at me at once, a series of lightning strokes so fast I could barely track her. But this time I managed to p
arry them all, using the sequence of moves she’d taught me. I felt a savage elation as her staff struck wood rather than my body. Heck, I even managed to pivot away from her in the direction she indicated this time, earning a grunt of approval. Coming from Ffion, that was as good as applause.
“Better,” she said. “You’re more focused today.”
I nodded. I didn’t bother to tell her that I’d been imagining Simeon Ash as my opponent, visualizing smacking his smug face. It had made the moves that much easier.
Nor did I tell her that I felt as homesick as hell or that what she’d told me about the Fae life-span played on my mind, no matter how much I tried to put it out of my head. Add to that the worry over the refugees, Rillana, and the general uncomfortableness of my being here at all and, yeah, I had one or two issues to work through.
“Again,” I said.
Before she could react, I sprang at her. A thrill of satisfaction went through me as her eyes widened slightly in surprise. Good. I’d caught her off guard. But my satisfaction lasted less than a second. Ffion recovered almost instantly, catching my staff across her own, parrying the blow, then sweeping my legs out from under me.
I landed on my back with a thump, all the breath knocked out of me. I found myself staring up at the ceiling of the royal apartments—the only place Ffion thought we could get any privacy with the way the palace was suddenly abuzz.
Damn it! And I thought I’d been making progress!
Ffion’s face appeared above me. She could barely hide the smirk trying to pull the corners of her mouth. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I’ve been training since I was a child and you’re...new to this.”
And you’re just a mortal, were clearly the words she’d meant to say. Frustration made me want to scream. I was so god-damned sick of it!
I held out my hand. “Help me up, would you?”
Ffion took my hand and I yanked her with all my strength. She stumbled and I kicked her in the calf and tripped her, just as she’d done with me. She gave a surprised gasp and then thumped onto her back at my side.
I raised myself onto one elbow and gave her a smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. Us mortals fight dirty.”
White-hot fury flashed in her eyes. “Why, you little—”
“Having fun?”
My head whipped round. Raven lounged against the door frame, a faint smile on his face. Oh god! How long had he been standing there? How much had he seen?
Ffion and I scrambled to our feet like naughty schoolchildren who’d been caught fighting in the corridor.
“I...we were just...” I began.
“Training,” Ffion supplied. “We were training. But we’re done now.” She gathered up her staff, gave Raven and I a stiff nod, and then abruptly left.
“I think she likes you,” Raven observed.
“Likes me?” I spluttered. “Then I’d hate to see how she treats people she doesn’t like.”
He snorted. “No, you wouldn’t.”
There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked tired. I walked over to him and brushed the hair back from his face.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “At least nothing that seeing you can’t fix.”
He bent to kiss me, but I pressed my finger against his lips. “Ah-ah. None of that. I can tell when you’re lying, remember? Out with it. What’s happened?”
He sighed. “Sometimes I wish the bond wouldn’t be quite so revealing. Is there nothing I can keep from you?”
I grinned. “Nothing. And you’d better not forget that.”
He looked into my eyes. A thrill went through me and I suddenly wished I hadn’t stopped him kissing me. In fact, I wished he’d kiss me again. I wished he’d carry me over to the bed and—
“I have something to tell you. You’re not going to like it.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve just come from a meeting with the council. The leaders of the other Seelie Courts will arrive in three days to see if we can hammer out an alliance against the Unseelie.”
“What’s wrong with that? I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“It is. But there are some...formalities that need to be adhered to when courts come together.”
I frowned. “What kind of formalities?”
“There will be a ball to welcome the other courts.” He took a deep breath, as though steeling himself. “And that’s where you’ll be presented as my queen.”
Chapter 8
ASHA
I didn’t think I’d ever been quite so nervous. As I stood examining myself in the mirror, my stomach kept doing somersaults over and over. I felt sick. If I could have run away and locked myself in a room, I would have.
“Relax,” Raven said, coming up behind me and laying his hands on my shoulders. “You look beautiful.”
Beautiful? Is that what he called it? Because as far as I could tell, all I looked was ridiculous. I had donned a flowing silk dress in a purple that almost exactly matched Raven’s eyes. The dress was gorgeous and on somebody who suited dresses it would probably look amazing. Unfortunately, I didn’t suit dresses and all I saw was a scared-looking human woman staring back at me in a dress that made her look like a plum.
Oh, hell. Did I really have to go through with this?
As if hearing my thoughts, Raven’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Asha, stop this. I think it’s about time you saw yourself as I see you.”
He placed his hand over my eyes, muttered a few words in the Fae language, and the bond tightened around us. My perception of him heightened. I could feel his heart beating in his chest, sense the stirrings of his arousal, taste the scent of him on my tongue.
Then all of a sudden, an image flowered in my mind. I saw a woman. A bright-eyed, beautiful woman who stood confidently, chin raised and shoulders pulled back. Her hair cascaded down her back in a crimson mane, her heart-shaped face was delicate yet strong and her eyes smoldered with an inner strength.
It took me a moment to realize that the woman was me.
I started in shock. Was that how Raven saw me?
“You see?” he said softly. “You’ve got this. If you can face down my sister, you can face down anything.”
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders.
“You’re right. What are a bunch of Fae courtiers compared to Ffion? Well? Shall we?”
He gave me a flourishing bow. “As you command, my queen.”
He held out his arm and I took it. Together, we swept out of the royal apartments. As we started down the corridor, the royal guard fell into step around us. Raven didn’t seem to notice but to me their constant presence was getting stifling. I didn’t like being coddled like a toddler one little bit.
Raven gave me an encouraging smile and squeezed my hand. He’d opted to forgo the rich outfit that a king might be expected to wear to an occasion like this and had chosen instead a simple black tunic and pants with his usual knee-length boots. The outfit hugged his muscled body, making him look every bit the warrior he was. Perhaps that was the point. Considering we were about to descend into the pit of Summerland politics, perhaps it was a deliberate choice to remind everyone that he was first and foremost a warrior.
It had been several days since Hawk had returned to the Ravenhold bringing the survivors of the Moon Court with him. Those days had been turbulent and busy, with much of the Shadow Court’s military might leaving to defend the border. According to Raven we had perhaps another handful of days before the Unseelie army encamped at the Moon Court had resupplied and begun their march towards us.
During the last few days there had been countless complaints from the great families who had taken exception to my commandeering their apartments to house the refugees. Most of those gripes had been taken to Raven, of course, as they didn’t deign to speak to me directly. Raven had sent them away with their tails between their legs.
I had visited Rillana every day but there
had still been no change. I was beginning to despair that she would ever wake up and that whatever she knew would remain an elusive secret, forever out of reach.
Then, finally, the leaders of the other Seelie courts had arrived this afternoon, amongst much pomp and ceremony. Which meant of course, that the banquet to welcome them, the banquet where I would be introduced as queen-apparent, the banquet I had been dreading for three days, was upon us. It seemed frivolous to hold a banquet at this time—with enemies at our borders and a palace full of refugees—and I’d argued this on more than one occasion but Raven had explained that ceremony and tradition had been the way in which the Fae cemented their alliances since time out of memory. Hosting the banquet tonight would be the first step in forming an alliance with the rest of the Seelie courts.
And considering how crucial that alliance would be, it was vital that the banquet went well.
No pressure then, right?
We reached the doors to the great hall to find Ffion and Hawk waiting for us. Ffion had not bothered to change from her customary tight-fitting leather, but Hawk had chosen a black outfit that matched his brother’s. Ffion gave me and Raven a cool nod in greeting but Hawk smiled widely, clapped his brother on the arm, and gave me a wink.
“Ready for the circus?”
I gave him a weak smile. “Sure. Bring it on.”
Hawk pushed the doors open and a wave of heat and noise rolled over me. Long tables had been set up in a rectangle around the perimeter of the room, leaving space in the middle for dancing and entertainment. The tables were already full, Fae done out in their finery, all talking in a rush.
One of the guards on the door blew three short blasts on a silver trumpet and the crowd grew quiet.
“Prince Firian and Princess Ffion of House Storm,” he announced in a booming voice that filled the room.
Hawk held out his arm and Ffion took it. Together they swept into the hall and up to the main table. That left only me and Raven. My grip on his arm tightened.
Oh, god. Here we go.
“King Arion, lord of the Ravenhold, sovereign of the Shadow Court, and Queen- apparent Asha Grant.”
