by Dyan Chick
I followed the guards in silence as I wondered what else could go wrong. I'd clearly ruined the first trial, I was stuck in the Winter Court posing as Tristan's bride to be, and Tiana was still out there somewhere along with whoever else was interested in killing me because of my blood. I rubbed the back of my neck as we walked, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. Maybe I should just crawl back in bed and sleep until everything was done and over with. Maybe being in the Winter Court was the best thing for me even if my heart ached with desire for the princes I'd left behind.
The guards paused in front of my door, then opened it before taking their positions on either side. I didn't acknowledge them as I passed between them and closed the door behind me. I was too exhausted and confused to talk to anyone here. I longed for words of comfort from Ethan or playful banter from Dane. Even Cormac's bluntness would be welcome right now.
Heading for the bed with every intention of napping until someone dragged me away, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. On the table where my breakfast had been, the box containing the sea silver bracelet was gone. In its place was a new box. This one looked to be made of thick paper and was pale pink in color.
Nervous flutters filled my stomach as I stepped toward the object. I blew out a breath of relief when I didn't see a trial number written on it. Instead, it simply had my name across the top in gold ink.
Hoping it was from Tristan and not part of the trials, I carefully opened it. Inside I found a pen and several pieces of pink parchment along with a pink sealed envelope with the word candidate written on the front.
Frowning, I pulled out the envelope and opened it, hoping I wasn't walking into another trap.
Dear Candidate,
After each trial you are to account your experiences exactly as they occurred on the provided paper by the end of the day of the trial. Then place the letter in the box and close it. The letter will be reviewed by the council. Expect to see a return letter the following morning. The pen will know if your words are truth.
The Trial Council
Relieved that the box didn't contain anything nefarious, I decided to sit down and pen my letter now. I had to let them know I failed eventually. I kept my letter polite and to the point as I retraced my steps in words. As I signed my name at the end of the letter, I found that I felt a sense of relief. There was something liberating about not hiding the failure. Folding the paper in half, I set it in the box and closed the lid.
The task was done. Now I would wait.
No longer feeling tired, I stood and walked to the door. My first instinct was to call for Tristan, but our parting words to each other still stung. Deciding it didn't matter where I went as long as there were distractions, I walked through the door.
I could feel the gaze of the guards on my back as I headed down the hall and after a few more steps, I could hear their movement behind me in soft rustles of fabric. Their footfalls were nearly silent on the rug, but I knew they were following me. I supposed I should be grateful. Tristan seemed confident that I was safe here, but I wasn't sure I was safe anywhere.
I thought about the trials as I walked, taking turns when the mood struck me, allowing myself to get lost in the palace. My agreement with Tristan had been to stay until the first three trials were complete. What would become of my promise if I failed the first trial and was dismissed from the trial altogether? Would I have to stay until Tristan felt my bargain had been fulfilled or would they dismiss me when the successful candidates had completed their trials?
A terrible thought made my chest tighten. Did the princes already know? Did the Queen already know? If I had failed, was there already another assassin on their way to finish me so I wasn't a threat to whoever won? I rubbed my forehead, trying to calm the swirling thoughts. There wasn't anything I could do until the response came from the council.
Soft music filtered down the hall from an open door ahead. It was gentle and sad. The melody drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I floated toward the sound, forgetting my worries as I let the music take over my movements. Pausing in front of the open door, I peeked inside to see Sasha plucking the strings of a large harp. Her fingers moved with rapid familiarity as if she were part of the instrument. Her eyes were closed and her frail body swayed gently in time with the movements of her arms. Holding my breath, I hung on every note as she played. The song seemed to be an extension of her and it felt like I was intruding on an intimate secret. I knew I should give her privacy, but I longed to hear more.
Sasha glanced up and caught my eye, her hands pausing on the strings. The last lingering vibration of the notes faded as she stared at me. Her startled expression faded into a smile and she inclined her head. "Come in. You don't have to stand out there."
Slowly I walked into the room. "You play beautifully."
"Thank you," she said, shifting on the bench. As she moved, the fabric of her dress pulled around her and I could see her thin frame. She had looked so full of life in Tristan's memory. Now, she was a shell of that girl. So frail that I feared a strong breeze would blow her away.
"Have you made amends with my brother?" she asked.
"I'm not sure what you mean," I said.
"I know he sprung some things on you and I'm sure you were not pleased." She turned away from the harp, facing a pair of chairs that waited nearby.
I took the gesture as an invitation and claimed one of the empty seats. "Your brother and I seem to always be at odds no matter the occasion."
She smirked. "It's good for him to have someone who won't back down. Especially with all the trouble my father is causing."
I waited in silence, hoping she'd elaborate. When she didn't speak, I thought of the most diplomatic way I could address the issue. "Did your father used to live here in the Winter Palace?"
She nodded. "He did. Until he was too unwell. He moved to our mountain home where he remained until last year."
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"Staying with one of the high lords. Fueling their desire for war with his ravings." She stood, a wisp of a woman, still elegant in her movements despite the fact that they seemed to trouble her.
I stood and reached for her, ready to offer my support.
She waved my hand away. "I can manage this distance. I'm not as fragile as I appear."
Nodding, I stepped back to the chair I'd been sitting in and reclaimed my place. She sat in the chair next to me. "It's the magic. Shortly after my test with Tiana, it started to fade. I'm afraid I have very little left. Without magic, we Fae do not fare well. In time, I'll lose all my magic and age like a human until I pass from this world."
I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my mouth and I quickly adjusted my expression in an attempt to show concern rather than pity.
"Don't worry," Sasha said. "I've lived a long, happy life. And it will be happy again once my father is defeated."
"Is that Tristan's plan, then?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "He had a vision of you. Did you know that?"
I shook my head. "He hasn't told me anything."
She frowned. "Always trying to protect those he cares about, that one. I'm sure he thinks sparing you the details is kind. But I can tell that you're like me. Knowing helps."
"Yes, it does. If he would just include me, then maybe I could help without being so angry at him." The words spilled out and I felt my cheeks heat.
Sasha laughed. "He can be infuriating at times."
"That's an understatement," I mumbled.
"Do you want to know what his vision was?" she asked.
I swallowed, suddenly nervous. Tristan had kept this from me but Sasha openly offered to share. Did I want to know? Would knowing make being stuck here easier? Would it make things worse? I thought to the failed trail and pressed my lips together. It wasn't as if the day could get much worse. "Yes."
"He saw you long before you arrived," she said. "He used to tell me stories of the Fae changeling who came to him in his dreams. He said she was the key to sa
ving the Winter Court before we even knew what the threat was."
"How?" I asked.
"He didn't know it was you until you met, of course," she continued. "But he had visions of you here to help create a bond between humans and Fae. He saw you as the pivotal piece in saving the lives of thousands." She paused, her forehead creasing.
"What else?" I encouraged, ignoring the chill sweeping through me.
"He also had visions where you died. In Queen's Trial. At the Autumn Court."
I felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs.
"Sasha," Tristan's voice carried into the room, smooth and commanding. "Those were not your stories to tell."
I looked up at the Winter Prince and was surprised to see concern rather than anger in his expression.
"She needed to know, Tristan. You can't shelter her forever," Sasha said.
He sighed as he walked into the room. "I can't with you around. That's for sure." He looked at me. "So now you've met Sasha."
"Is it true?" I asked. "Is that why you agreed to help me? Why you dragged me here? To help you with your war?"
"Yes," Tristan said.
I wasn't sure how I felt about his quick answer. As much as he drove me crazy at times, I did have feelings for him. There were times I even thought he had feelings for me. Now, it turns out this was all planned before we even met. I was a pawn, another step that allowed Tristan to gain what he wanted. "Does that mean I'll die from the trials when I return to the Autumn Court?"
Tristan shook his head. "I'm not sure."
I stood. "I think I'd like to go back to my room. It was nice seeing you again, Sasha."
"Again?" Tristan asked.
I turned and walked toward the doors, knowing the guards would be waiting for me.
"You need to explain everything to her," Sasha said behind me.
I didn't stay to hear Tristan's response.
Chapter Sixteen
My mind reeled as I sat alone in my room. Every so often a creak or rustle of fabric outside my door made my pulse race in anticipation of Tristan's arrival. When nobody came, my shoulders sagged and I felt foolish for my hope. I didn't want to feel this pull to Tristan, but I couldn't help it. The more I found out about him, the less of a villain he became. I couldn't ignore the fact that I wasn't thrilled with the idea that he'd helped me because he needed me for his own plans, but if he was somehow keeping me safe from death by having me here, I couldn't argue that. I didn't want to die. I wanted to find a place I belonged and enjoy my life. Queen or not, I wanted to find my place in Faerie and settle down.
Tristan's naked form flashed in my mind and I could almost feel the heat of his body as he pressed himself against me. The vision was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me feeling flushed and wanting. I clenched my thighs together and took a deep breath. I couldn't be thinking about sex right now. I needed to focus. No matter my attraction to Tristan, I knew it wasn't a good idea to get involved with him physically. It wasn't just the complications he brought, it was the complications he'd cause between myself and the three princes who already had my heart. I felt a sinking emptiness without them. Like a piece of me was lingering in the Autumn Court, waiting for my return. How much longer was I going to have to stay here?
A rustling sound came from outside the door and I turned toward it, allowing myself to hope it was Tristan even after all my attempts to keep him from my mind.
The door knob turned and flutters rose into my chest and my breathing grew rapid. What should I say to him? How should I act around him? Was he going to tell me the truth?
All thoughts of Tristan left my mind the second the visitor came into view. This wasn't Tristan. A tall Fae male in a black and silver uniform towered in the doorway. His gray eyes locked on me and a wicked grin spread across his lips.
I glanced down to see the guards who had been outside my door on the ground, red blood staining the rug under them. My heart raced and I leaped from the bed and backed away from the intruder.
Glancing behind me, I looked for any sign of escape. There was a window in my room, but I was several floors up and wasn't sure how a jump would impact me. Could a Fae survive such a fall? How much did immortality protect you?
"So you're the Queen's brat." The male's boots slammed the floor with each step. He walked with power and dominance instead of grace. There was no fluidity to his motions. He was steel and stone.
"What do you want with me?" I asked.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.
I glanced at the dead guards he'd left behind, then looked back up at him.
He followed my gaze then turned back to me. "They weren't going to let me through. If they had cooperated, I would have let them live."
I tucked my trembling hands behind my back, not wanting to show the intruder that he was intimidating me. I thought back to the last time I'd been in trouble. Ethan had felt it. He'd come for me. Ethan, I called out to him, not knowing if the distance was too far.
"Who are you?" I asked, hoping to buy myself some time.
"I'm here to retrieve you for a meeting with the king," he said.
My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips, trying to come up with any excuse to stall the male in the hopes of someone coming to help me. Right now would have been an excellent time to use some defensive magic if I knew any. Cursing the Queen's Trial and its disruption to my magic training, I glanced at the box behind me. "Do you see this?"
"The box?" the male asked, brow furrowed.
"Yes. I'm a candidate in the Queen's Trial in Faerie and I'm favor bound to this palace until I complete the third trial. I made an agreement with the Winter Prince."
"That was foolish of you," the male said. "But I'm afraid you don't have any choice. I'm not here to make arrangements with you. I'm here to retrieve you." He crossed the room in three large steps. "You'll either come on your own, or I'll force you to come."
A gleam of silver caught my eye and I noticed he was holding a blade. I squeezed my hands into fists, my fingernails biting into my palms. I wondered what my chances for escape were if I tried my magic. Could I get by him in time to escape if I lit up the room?
Deciding it was my only hope, I searched for my magic, trying to find that thread that led to my power.
The male clicked his tongue. "You've never met a real Winter Guard before, have you?"
I swallowed hard and kept my eyes locked on his.
He smirked. "You can't use magic against me. Nobody with Winter magic can. And I hear you've got the magic of all four courts? Shame. If you were true Autumn Fae, you'd have a chance."
He held out his hand. "Are you coming with me or shall I report to the king that I found you with your throat slit when I arrived?"
I stared defiantly at him. I didn't know much about the Winter Court, but I believed Tristan and Sasha that the king was insane. I had no intention of going to meet him.
"Once I kill you, I'll find the princess and let her join you in death. Maybe I'll even go after the prince. I'm sure the king will forgive me if I kill him instead of saving the pleasure for him."
I narrowed my eyes at the guard, hatred rising in my gut making my skin burn. How dare he threaten Sasha and Tristan?
"Count of three, Princess," the guard said. "One, two..."
Lower lip trembling, I reached my hand toward his.
He wrapped calloused fingers around my hand, enclosing it in his. "That's better."
Before I could say anything, the room went black.
I dug my fingernails into the Winter Guard's hand, hoping he'd loosen his grip. He only squeezed my hand tighter. Twisting as much as possible, I tried to break his grip, but he held on. If I was thrown from the slide, I might have a chance to contact Ethan or at least seek shelter. All too soon, the light reappeared and I landed in a heap on a hard floor.
Pain shot out through my right hip where I'd landed and I rolled to my side, groaning. I hated sliding. Glaring up at the male, I bared my teeth. "You
did that on purpose."
"You tried to escape," he said with a shrug.
I pushed myself to standing while rubbing my injured side and looked around. I was in a grand room appointed with luxurious details. The floor was black stone and the walls were covered in silver wallpaper. A gray rug ran down the center of the room from a large metal door up to a raised dias. On top of the dias was a silver and black throne. "Where are we?"
"The Mountain House," the Winter Guard said.
"He keeps a throne room like this in his second home?" I asked, not meaning to say the words out loud.
"This is the seat of power for the Winter Court," the guard said.
"What about the palace?" I asked.
"Where the traitors have taken up residence?" he asked.
"You mean his children?" I asked.
The door swung open and a silver-haired Fae male in a black tunic and sweeping silver cape strode into the room. He wore black trousers and black leather boots. His steps were even and steady. The male looked at me with icy blue eyes; the same eyes as Tristan. His jaw tightened as he walked toward me, not breaking eye contact.
When he reached the place where the guard and I stood, he stopped and clasped his black gloved hands in front of him. "Thank you for coming, Cassia."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "I wasn't given a choice."
"I apologize for that," he said. "I'm afraid you've been corrupted by my son and I needed to free you from his grasp."
I blinked at the male in front of me. "So you're the king."
He nodded. "Indeed. The one they all say is insane. Tell me, child. Do I look like I'm unfit to rule?"
It was a loaded question and I tightened my jaw, afraid to give the incorrect answer.
He smiled. "I know it's hard to understand, but believe me when I say I'm doing this for your protection."
"The guards," I said, "he killed them."
"I was unable to avoid injury during her retrieval," the Winter Guard said.
