by AC Washer
“I’ll take that as a no. My third condition is that I have complete access to the heir at all times and I may come and go on loyalist territory under diplomatic immunity.”
Briana’s raised brow indicated that this was no small thing. “Only for two hours preceding the investiture, and of course during the investiture as well. After this, your position as consort to the queen makes your request moot.”
“Make it four hours prior, and I agree.”
Briana looked between Maeve and Aaron. “On behalf of the council, is it agreed?”
Maeve sighed. “It is.”
“Yes,” Aaron sulked.
Briana looked over to Edon. “The word of the council is this: we grant you diplomatic status and complete access to the heir for the time frame discussed, along with the traditional role of escort to the heir prior to and during the investiture with the conditions you have outlined. Do you swear to uphold your end of bargain and allow the investiture to go forward?”
“I swear.”
“Then it is done,” Briana said.
Maeve stood up. “Kella, come with me. It’s time to leave.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Edon said.
Maeve froze before turning to stare at Edon. “Surely you don’t mean…”
“You lost her once. I would hate for her to disappear again.”
“And why is that? A magicless heir is not the coup you rebels have been hoping for. In fact, I’m surprised you’re allowing the investiture at all, bloodbath or no.”
Edon smile held no warmth. “Perhaps because she is magicless, we have reason to hope for change.”
Maeve shook her head. “All that means is there’s one less step to prepare her for the investiture.”
“You mean drain her of all magic so she doesn’t have a fighting chance,” Mickey said with a scowl.
A fighting chance for what? Caleb said I’d need all of my magic to overcome the investiture—and here was Mickey confirming it.
But before I could ask Mickey about it, Briana shook her head and said, “Careful, Miach. We do the queen’s bidding. You understand the consequences of disobedience better than most.”
Mickey’s mouth formed a tight line, and I knew no answers would be forthcoming. At least not around the council members…who were actually my future council members. And the fact that they weren’t treating me like it was getting old.
“Hey,” I said, “future queen here. How about you guys start treating me like it and answer some of my questions? Like why would I even need a ‘fighting chance’ at the investiture?”
Maeve looked away, and Briana shifted uncomfortably. But Aaron just smirked. “We are unable to give you that information, heir. But we will answer any questions you might ask afterward.”
Well, point one for the mysterious elf that visited Caleb. Something was definitely off with the investiture, but I still didn’t believe it would drive me crazy. After all, why would anyone want an insane queen on the throne?
Edon shook his head. “You’ve done a great job keeping her in the dark. I commend you.” He stood. “Well, I can’t say it’s been nice talking with you since that’d be a lie, so instead I’ll say I hope to not see any of you soon—except for Kella, who is, of course, remaining on my land until the investiture. Please, exit the premises as the meeting has officially concluded.”
“But…” Maeve sputtered. “But she needs to stay with those loyal to the queen. She is not safe around the rebels.”
“Didn’t I swear I’d keep her safe? I agree, though, that the more time she spends among my people, the more…confused…they may become. After all, they’ve been hoping for a powerful heir to reign in the investiture—”
Maeve snorted. “It’s impossible for an heir to hold the amount of power required to do that.”
Mickey narrowed his eyes. “You forget, Maeve. Ashlyn nearly overcame it. She would have if—”
“Well, her daughter certainly won’t,” Maeve responded with a bite to her words that felt like a slap to my face. “She doesn’t have a drop of magic to drain.”
Mickey kept his face impassive, but a storm brewed behind those eyes. And all I could do was dig my nails into the palms of my hands, because no one was going to tell me anything. I was walking into this investiture blindfolded, clinging to the belief that things weren’t as life-or-death as Caleb made them out to be. That whoever it was that had talked to him was indirectly trying to manipulate me, to mislead Caleb into unintentionally lying for them.
“Children,” Edon said, shaking his head. “Back to the subject at hand. We did hope for a fae heir as powerful as her parents. And yes, we wanted to disrupt the investiture so she’d have a chance. But since that avenue appears closed, I do not want a bloodbath on my hands once the queen retakes power.”
Briana nodded as if everything Edon said made sense. “You are hoping to save your people with positioning yourself as consort. Admirable, but perhaps naïve.”
Edon shrugged. “Between a corrupt council willing to start a bloodbath if we kill the heir to end the investiture and a psychotic queen and council willing to massacre us for disloyalty, my options are limited.”
Psychotic queen? Great. Maybe Caleb wasn’t too far off after all. Although, why was Edon convinced I’d want to murder all the rebels after I was crowned?
Questions swarmed through my mind like a knocked over wasp nest. Would I discover that the rebels deserved to die? Exactly who had I just decided to marry? What had he done that would make me want to kill him when I became queen?
“I think we have heard enough,” Aaron said, rising from his chair. “I refuse sit here while he insults us.”
Edon smirked. “Then by all means, stand while I insult you.”
Aaron glared at Edon. “You are the most—”
“In the interest of keeping the girl alive,” Edon continued, “and so none of my more desperate fae get themselves in trouble by attempting to kill Kella again, I suggest we move up the investiture.”
“Hold on a second,” I said, my voice rising as panic engulfed me. This was moving too fast, and I needed answers. But what was I going to say? Let’s delay and risk more assassination attempts? The memory of Bridgette gutting the rebel girl right in front of me had me clamping my mouth shut. Not that Briana had noticed. She hadn’t even bothered looking my way.
Instead, she made eye contact with the rest of the council. “A practical suggestion.”
Aaron shrugged while Maeve nodded slowly. Mickey, though—his jaw clenched in anger—refused to look at Briana. At least Mickey thought this was bull too.
“Well, it’s nice we can agree on that at least. You are all dismissed now.”
There was an awkward silence before Mickey chuckled. “Acting the part of consort a little prematurely, aren’t you?” he said, standing along with the rest of the council.
Edon shrugged.
Aaron, though, wasn’t amused. “Your rudeness and lack of respect knows no bounds,” Aaron said, passing Edon on his way to the door.
“Bounds are for the queen’s fae. Remember, whistle means ‘heal.’”
Aaron stilled, his deep brown eyes narrowing into tiny slits, his fists balling together.
Briana touched his elbow. “Not now,” she murmured.
“We’ll see how disrespectful you remain after the investiture, consort,” Aaron snapped.
Edon rolled his eyes. “Please. The queen likes me this way.”
Briana shook her head and left alongside Maeve and Aaron. But just as Mickey was about to follow, Edon snagged his elbow and pulled him back into the council room before closing the door.
With just the three of us in the room, it was hard to ignore what I had admitted—that I found Edon…attractive. So instead, I glared at Edon, deciding to clear the air and make sure we were on the same page. “For the record, I don’t like you.”
“What?” asked Mickey.
“I don’t like Edon,” I repeated, turning to look Edon
in the eye. “If you’re gonna call me a witch, I figured I’d share my feelings, too. You’re an ass.”
Edon cracked a smile. “I wasn’t talking about you, heir. But if your mind manages to stay intact after investiture, I’m sure everyone will be falling over themselves to care about whether you think they’re an ass. Until then, you’re simply a little girl about to become somebody’s puppet and they,” —he jabbed his thumb toward the door Maeve and the other council members left through— “are just fine with that.”
“What is he talking about?” My voice raised an octave.
Mickey looked at Edon and shook his head.
Edon sighed. “Bound, huh? Not a big surprise. Guess that leaves it to me to break the bad news.” He turned the full intensity of his gaze on me. “What do you think the investiture is, Kella? Some sort of magical power transfer that makes you queen? That’s the story they’ve been spinning to you, isn’t it?”
I didn’t say anything. He was right.
“Well, allow me to fill in the many holes in that story.” Edon’s eyes grew darker as he leaned against the conference table, crossing his arms.
“Our saga begins with a powerful, narcissistic fae queen who didn’t want to die. So what’d she do? She turned the investiture’s power transfer into her own personal resurrection party.”
Mickey winced. My eyes widened. “You mean she comes back from the dead?”
“After a manner of speaking.” He shifted, the heels of his palms resting on the table behind him. “She threaded her soul into the investiture staff. When her heirs touch it as part of the investiture ceremony, they still get the outpouring of power. But now it comes with a catch: her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Kella, she wrapped herself so tightly in the power of the fae queens that she uses it to take control of her heirs. She possesses them—uses their bodies as a vehicle for her soul.”
“Wh-what happens to the heirs?”
“Oh, well.” Edon leaned back into the table, arms crossed once more. “They’re still there—trapped in their own minds and powerless to do anything about it.”
I tried to talk, but my mouth was too dry. I swallowed. “They’re trapped there? Forever?”
Edon’s face was as serious as I’d ever seen it. “Until the death of their body. I’ve heard the queen sometimes lets the heir out to play. Perhaps she enjoys messing with the consorts’ heads—or maybe she wants a break.” Edon shook his head. “Whatever the reason, the heir’s freedom is brief.”
I caught myself gaping.
“Messed up, isn’t it?” Edon said.
Messed up didn’t even begin to describe it. I’d had issues before—an alcoholic dad that beat me and stole my money. But this? Hijacking someone’s body…someone’s mind? There was no escaping that. No running away.
“This happened to my mother…and she’s dead now…”
“And you are the next heir. The queen’s next victim.” Edon shook his head. “Honestly, stumbling into my territory was the best thing that could have happened to you—well, that or disappearing forever.”
“Edon, I think you’ve scared her enough,” said Mickey.
“Good. She needs to be scared,” Edon shot back. To me, he said, “I’m telling you this so you don’t run away and mess up any chance you have of not getting yourself killed.”
“But I don’t get it. Why are you, a rebel leader, keeping me safe from the rebels? If the queen’s going to control me, why not kill me now?”
Edon flashed his teeth. “I should, but I took a gamble instead, and hedged my bets by becoming your consort just in case it doesn’t work out. I’m hoping Mickey here has a great explanation for how you can see past glamours but are registering zero on the magic scale. Well, Dad? Care to explain?”
“Wait,” I said, looking between Edon and Mickey. “Mickey’s your dad?”
Edon laughed, but Mickey’s jaw clenched in anger. “Not yet, but soon enough. For now, that unfortunate honor is all yours, little warrior.”
I stared at Edon, and then at Mickey, who looked like he was ready to kill. “What?”
Edon shrugged in a don’t-ask-me kind of way.
“This isn’t the best time to have this conversation,” said Mickey.
“But we’re having it anyway,” I snapped, even while reviewing our past interactions with a new light. The way he got O’Faolain to back off that first day, how protective he always seemed, how he’d insisted Cory James wasn’t my real dad. There’d been little hints here and there that I’d never picked up on. I mean, the day I’d arrived, he’d even said we were related. I’d thought he was being super cheesy, not literal. Why? Why hide that from me?
“You’re the fae dad that wouldn’t recognize me until after I became queen? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“When you first arrived, you didn’t even know you were fae. What was I supposed to say?”
“But you could have told me anytime in the past week.”
“No, I’ve been doing damage control all week long so you didn’t get yourself killed.”
“Didn’t get myself…The only reason I came this close to dying is because I’ve got yet another deadbeat dad who won’t show up and take care of his kid.”
“Ouch,” Edon said.
“I’m not a deadbeat dad,” Mickey bit out. “I’ve been trying to protect you.”
“Come now, let’s not stretch the truth,” Edon said, a censuring smile on his face. “We both know you’ve been on the side of the loyalists ever since you made that oath to Ashlyn.”
“What did you promise the queen? That you’d deliver me up on a silver platter?”
“I promised the queen nothing. Your mother, though—I would have died for her.”
Mickey’s eyes pled for understanding. “Your mother was not the queen—not truly. She was an heir, much like you. She chose me as her consort.” Mickey looked away. “I’m sure the queen would love to pick the consort instead, but heirs are required to choose consorts prior to the investiture and a third party can’t undo that bond.”
“So,” I said slowly, “what did you promise?”
Mickey swallowed. “I swore to ensure you took your place in the investiture.”
“But that would—why didn’t you—I thought she wanted to hide me. How could you promise something like that?”
Mickey couldn’t meet my eyes. “I trusted her,” he whispered.
I didn’t know what to say, my mind reeling from revelation after revelation. I had a dad—one who sounded like he could have cared about me—and a mom he loved. But I—I was still the unwanted daughter. Some things never changed.
Then something clicked.
“It was you,” I said. “You visited Caleb in the hospital.” Mickey had disappeared for over a day, and now I knew where he’d gone.
Mickey’s shoulders sagged in relief. “You know, then.”
“Yeah, I know. I know that you told him a bunch of stuff you should have told me instead. Now he thinks he has to die so that I can live.”
“Who is Caleb?” Edon asked, his eyes alight with interest. I glared at the wall, too angry to look at either of them.
Mickey sighed. “Caleb is Kella’s human brother. He’s in a coma and he’s been that way since the boy’s father almost killed the two of them. He should be dead. She should be dead…unless.” He let the word hang for a moment, holding Edon’s gaze.
Edon let out a long, deep breath. “The brother is still alive…”
“Barely. They transferred him back to the ICU this past week,” Mickey said.
“Even so—” Edon said.
“They what?” I shouted the words.
Mickey looked at me apologetically. “You did all the healing you could at the initial magic breaking, but now…you lack the skill for anything else.”
“No.” I shook my head, refusing to believe that for a second. “You told him that. You said that just so he’d be okay with me taking my magic bac
k.”
Mickey shook his head. “I told you the truth. I—” He opened up his mouth, but nothing came out. He shut his mouth with a grimace.
Mickey’s mouth worked a bit before he said, “Apparently, Caleb didn’t have time to tell you everything.”
I glared at him. “He told me as much as I needed to hear,” I said, smothering down regret for cutting Caleb off when I did. But I’d been upset. It wasn’t like he’d ever convince me to let him die—especially not after he’d saved my life. “And anyway, how do you know he didn’t?”
“Because I’d be able to talk about it if he did.”
A light bulb went off. “You’re sworn to secrecy.” Mickey nodded. I shook my head. “Fae and secrets. I’m sick of it. And you know what else makes me sick?”
Mickey stood there staring down at the floor.
“You telling the only person I care about that he has to die.”
Mickey shook his head, looking up at me. “He’ll die anyway—either by you taking him off of this magical life-support or the queen snatching the power back from him after she takes control of your mind. At least let him decide how he wants to go.”
“No! Caleb isn’t dying. He just needs me. What he doesn’t need is someone telling him stupid stuff about him dying—about me needing to let him go. I don’t need that. He’s the only family I have.” Mickey winced, but I didn’t take it back. “If I find out you’ve seen him again, I’ll-I’ll—”
Mickey closed his eyes for a moment. “He loves you, Kella. Let him die protecting you, not as a victim.”
“I know he loves me,” I snapped back. “He’s the only one who does, so I’m not about to let him die.”
The words hung thick in the air. When Mickey opened his eyes again, they were filled with sorrow.
Mickey looked at Edon.
Edon’s expression was carefully neutral. “I see.”
“Do you?” Mickey glanced from him to me and back again. And with that, Mickey left, leaving me wrapped up in a web of tangled emotions.
Several heavy minutes passed in silence. “Do most fae not care about their children?” I hated how small my voice sounded.
Edon stared thoughtfully at the door Mickey exited through. “Some fae let themselves care too much.”
