Kingdom of Yesterday's Lies (Royals of Faery Book 1)

by Hayley Osborn

  By the time I was almost at the front, I realized there were only two of us with an actual invitation. The guard’s eyebrows lifted when the girl in front of me produced hers, and again when I showed him mine.

  To reach the kingdom of Seelie, it was a hard left turn at the Crossing. Unseelie was any other direction. I wasn’t certain, but it seemed as if the guard pointed the two of us with invitations in a different direction than he had for everyone else.

  I knew the moment I’d crossed into Faery for I was no longer in the woods, but in a stone-walled tunnel.

  The girl in yellow was already gone and the tunnel was empty by the time the guard allowed me through, but there was only one way to go, so I followed along, trying not to think about all the humans who’d come before me. And definitely not thinking about what might happen should anyone see through my disguise.

  The tunnel smelled musty and was lit by lanterns hanging high on the walls. They didn’t flicker, not even as I passed directly beneath them—my shoes slipping on the smooth dirt floor—and I could only assume the light they cast was powered by fae magic. The stone walls were covered in bright green moss, and through the high ceiling vines—or perhaps roots—grew. The roots reached out, trying to twist themselves around me. I stifled a cry and ducked around them, my pace slowing as I scanned the tunnel to make sure I didn’t walk into one unnoticed. I could only imagine what they’d do if they caught me.

  Music played in the distance. The sound made me stop, and I closed my eyes to listen for a moment. Nowhere in the human realm of Iadrun were we allowed to listen to music, though I’d been lucky enough to hear once in my life. Then, like now, I’d listened with closed eyes and a full heart. Music lightened my soul in a way nothing else could. That it was outlawed by the fae just gave me another reason to dislike them.

  My hand brushed the time gem—the keeper of time that would remind me to leave Faery—in my pocket and my eyes flew open. I had a limited period to get this done. There was no time for standing around listening to anything.

  I rounded a bend and the tunnel opened, filling with bright light, and I found myself on the edge of the ballroom. I’d thought I was far underground, but above the brightly lit dance floor was a ceiling made entirely of glass through which thousands of stars shone—more stars than I’d ever seen in the sky, and so bright. Where the ceiling wasn’t made of glass, strings of lights dangled, swaying gently on some unseen breeze. At the other end of the room, standing on a low stage, a group of fae made music from instruments I’d only read about in books—violins, violas and a pianoforte—while couples danced elaborate moves, all in time with each other. Closer to this end of the room tables were piled high with food, and many fae stood nearby with plates and napkins brimming over. The room ended in a mezzanine that looked out over many more people dancing and eating below.

  To my right, the king perched on his throne upon a dais raised high enough that he could look out over top of every head. Beside him sat a young woman, her gown made of pale white beads—a dress so stunning, it put my exquisite outfit to shame.

  I’d imagined a long line in front of the king as he listened to everyone’s request, before deciding which favor to grant, but there was no one else around him. I drew in a deep breath. I didn’t mind going first.

  A human girl dressed in nothing but two flimsy scraps of material—one tied at her waist and the other tied over one shoulder—walked up to me with a tray of drinks in her hand. As I tried to work out if she was here willingly, or if she was a slave, she smiled. “What’s your poison, lady? We have every drink you ever imagined.”

  I shook my head glancing at the glasses on her tray, every color under the sun—bright green, turquoise, red, and even one that was yellow and orange with steam coming from the top—while I wondered again if she was here against her will. By her tone, it didn’t seem so, but it was hard to tell.

  She lifted her tray in front of my eyes and I shook my head. Everyone knew a human should never accept a drink while in Faery in case it was enchanted with fae magic which would steal your senses. “I just had one.” I smiled.

  “Let me know when you’re ready for another.” She was already walking away as she spoke, heading for two fae men standing a few steps in front of me and looking over the dance floor. “What’s your poison?”

  Both men turned to face her, their eyes making slow paths down her body. One said something too low for me to hear, and both of them broke into bawdy laughter.

  The human girl shifted uncomfortably. “What’s your poison?”

  The man closest to me licked his lips, his eyes on her chest. “I’d quite like a piece of you. What do you say? Shall we find a dark corner?”

  The girl smiled, but there was fear in her eyes. “I’m sorry, lord, but I must work tonight.”

  His eyes remained on her chest as he spoke, making me feel uncomfortable. “I’m sure you won’t be missed. We won’t be long.” He nudged his friend, and they both laughed.

  “I’m sorry, lord, I can’t.” She turned, starting toward another group of guests. The girl wasn’t sorry, anyone could see it. She was terrified of being made to do something she didn’t want.

  The man followed her, reaching out and pulling the ties of the cloth at her shoulder. Her hand flew up to stop the material falling, while the other hand wobbled, trying to keep the drinks stable on the tray. The man’s nostrils flared, and he spoke in a low voice. “Drop your hand.”

  She lifted her chin and shook her head.

  Whether in Faery or in Iadrun, this wasn’t okay. I stepped between them, looking at the girl and hoping my voice didn’t shake. “Ah, there you are, Daisy. My guests have arrived and are awaiting your service.”

  The girl bobbed her head, gratitude filling her eyes. She turned to leave, but the man moved in front of her. He looked at me. “I’ll thank you to keep out of this, unless you want to take her place in that dark corner?” His eyes raked down my body.

  My hands shook, but I clasped them behind my back, refusing to let him see how a glance at his pointed ears terrified me. I’d dealt with bullies before and I knew that was exactly what he wanted. “I’ll go nowhere with you. Daisy, my guests.” I hoped I sounded authoritative. I’d never demanded anyone do anything in such a manner, but damned if I was letting this creature drag the girl away against her will.

  “Keep out of my business.” He spoke through gritted teeth. With a glance at the girl, he said, “Drop your hand.” When she didn’t, he reached out and poured his drink over her head.

  As she jerked away from the flow of the liquid, one glass on her tray wobbled and then fell, knocking into the glass beside it and toppling so the entire tray smashed on the floor.

  “You little tart! You did that on purpose! It’s all over me.” The man had two splashes of turquoise liquid on one shoe, nothing else. His cheeks turned a mottled red, and I had the feeling this would not end well for the girl. As I tried to come up with a way to fix the situation, another man arrived. He moved so smoothly, he could have been floating. I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t. His face was hard, and he stared at the mess on the floor with disgust. Then his cold eyes rose slowly to land on me.

  FOUR

  I couldn’t breathe. Could barely think. The man was staring at me. Did that mean he knew I shouldn’t be here?

  The man’s dark hair was smoothed and braided, proudly showing off the long and pointed ears that sent shivers along my spine. He was dressed all in black—waistcoat, pants and shirt—the only splashes of color being the aqua bowtie at his neck and the gold rings adorning his fingers. It was difficult to tell his age beneath his black mask. He seemed about my age, yet carried himself with the confidence of someone much older.

  “Get out of here,” he said. He didn’t need to ask me twice. With a glance at the girl, we made a quick retreat.

  The man in black moved his attention to the girl’s attacker. He threw an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “Th
eo! Is that you? I can’t believe it!”

  Theo stopped mid-rant and turned to Dark Hair. He blinked. Even beneath his mask, I saw it. I should have moved farther away, but I was glued to the spot, watching. “L-lord,” stammered Theo. “It’s been a long time.” The last syllable raised slightly. Not quite a question. “When did I see you last?”

  “No, no.” Dark Hair guided Theo away from the girl. “I don’t want to talk about me. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  “Where to start. There’s so much to say.” Theo grinned at Dark Hair, letting himself, and his friend, be guided away.

  I released my breath. The girl was safe from his unwanted advances. For now, at least. I turned to find her picking up her tray. The smashed glass and ruined drinks that were spread around her feet moments ago had disappeared. Care of Dark Hair, I guessed. “Thank you,” she whispered, rushing away to collect more drinks.

  I scanned the ballroom one last time, working up the nerve to approach the king. My eyes fell on the man that must be Prince Fergus. He stood across the room, near the orchestra. Like the rest of the guests, he wore a mask covering half his face, but it was pointless when he also wore a circlet on his head proclaiming his royal status. His suit was navy blue, his tie a brilliant magenta, and his black mask looked like a wolf. He cut a striking figure. If looks alone were enough to choose a husband, then the girls in the queue into Faery had the right idea.

  He seemed to enjoy the attention he was receiving tonight. No surprises there. Everything I’d ever heard suggested he loved the limelight, and there was plenty of that tonight. Pressed tightly around him was a circle of women—and a few men—five deep. He laughed and talked with many of them, turning on the spot as someone else caught his attention. I didn’t imagine he’d take well to marriage, not after having the freedom to do as he liked all his life.

  I drew in my breath. The king. That was why I was here, and time was ticking. I had to leave when the gem in my pocket vibrated, if I wanted to get out of here with my senses intact.

  I started toward the only person who might save Mother, my heart almost beating out of my chest. I’d grown up on stories of the cruelty of this man. He didn’t look nasty. He looked bored, lonely and old.

  I approached the king from his left, but he wasn’t looking my way. His eyes narrowed as he stared across the ballroom and it might have been my imagination, but it seemed as if the thousands of lights above flickered with his movement. He clicked his fingers, and a guard appeared from somewhere behind him. The king spoke a few words in his ear and the guard marched into the middle of the dance floor where he tapped on the shoulder of a blond-haired fae man in a black tuxedo and a pink, bird-like mask. The fae smiled and followed the guard back to the king. Almost everyone in the room watched while trying to appear like they were doing anything but.

  “Your name?” The orchestra quieted enough to hear the king’s voice above their sound.

  “Cymon.” There was a wobble in the fae’s voice. I wondered if he’d done something he shouldn’t have or if he was just terrified to speak to the king.

  The king gave a slow nod. “Cymon. And why are you here tonight?” His voice was soft, cajoling and sweet.

  “To enjoy this splendid party. At your request, of course.” The wobble was there again.

  Another nod from the king. “May I see it?” The king’s voice lowered a level, and it seemed as if the entire room leaned closer to hear what he said next.

  Cymon’s head tilted. “See it, your Highness?”

  Another nod. “Yes. My invitation.”

  Cymon patted his pockets, and I suddenly understood why the guard at the entrance to Faery had asked to see the invitations. Why he’d returned mine to me after a quick glance at it. “I … ah … I seem to have misplaced it.” There was no hiding the quiver in Cymon’s voice this time.

  “Misplaced it?” The king’s voice was lower than a whisper, danger falling from every syllable. “How is that possible?”

  Cymon shook his head so fast I thought his brightly colored mask might fly off. “I don’t know, your Highness. I’ll find it, though. If you would allow me to look?”

  The king’s eyes rolled over Cymon and he gave another nod. I thought he would allow the fae to hunt for his invitation.

  Cymon must have, too, because his shoulders loosened, and he took a step back.

  Faster than I could see, the king gave a flick of his wrist. Invisible hands clamped around Cymon’s ankles, picking him up and dragging him, upside down, across the room, to hang him over the edge of the mezzanine, meters from where I stood.

  Cymon screamed. “Please, I’ll find it. I’m meant to be here. You’ll see.” He wriggled in the invisible grasp, unable to free himself.

  I glanced at the crowd, searching for someone who might help the careless fae. The woman he’d been dancing with had tears running down her cheeks, but most everyone else looked on in scarcely hidden glee.

  “I do see. But rules are rules. If you can’t find your invitation, then you’re no better than the rabble who come here from the other side of the border. And since you’re no better than them, you can go play with them.” With a blink, whatever magic gripping Cymon’s ankles, released. There was dead silence in the ballroom, even the orchestra stopped. At the wet sound of Cymon’s body hitting the ground far below, the crowd cheered.

  The king almost smiled, and, as if signaled to do so, the orchestra again began to play.

  I stared at the crowd, then gave a quick look at the king, my heart hammering in my chest, and my legs weak. The king had killed that fae without breaking a sweat. Without even leaving his throne.

  I wouldn’t let it bother me. I was here for a reason, and this might be my moment. I should walk up to him now, tell him what I wanted. I should do it while he was still thinking about the fae who’d crashed his party without an invitation. Maybe, with his mind on something else, he’d be more likely to agree to help me.

  With a deep breath, I started around the edge of the crowd. The weight of the king’s gaze fell heavily upon me. Those eyes, ice blue and cold, were enough to make me want to turn tail and run. I wouldn’t though. This was about Mother, not me.

  The words I wanted to say ran through my head as I walked. I’d have no time for stammering or stuttering. I imagined such a thing would get me the same treatment Cymon had faced. I had to say what I wanted as fast as I could, before he had the opportunity to cut me off.

  I forced a smile onto my lips. “Good evening, your Highness. And what a lovely evening it is.”

  The king looked me over and gave a slow blink. A bead of sweat ran down my back and my palms were clammy. He might dismiss me here and now, and that would be my chance ruined. “Indeed.”

  I blew out a sharp breath of relief. He hadn’t sent me away or picked me up by the ankles. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but it seemed as if the lights brightened and the chatter in the room diminished as I greeted the king. As if the entire ballroom were leaning forward and listening to this conversation. “You are looking particularly dashing tonight, your Highness.” I didn’t think he was dashing at all. Not up close. He had the sharp features all fae seemed to share, but his age made them more pronounced. His high cheek bones gave his cheeks a sunken look, and his jaw was too defined to be beautiful. The pointed ears protruding between strands of grey hair were the longest I’d seen, and I couldn’t let my gaze linger on them lest he see how terrified the sight made me. His cold eyes combined with the scar on his right cheek added up to someone I’d prefer never to look at. I just hoped the king didn’t divine that from my words.

  The king inclined his head, his eyes crawling over my face.

  “There you are.” The voice came from behind. Someone stopped beside my right elbow and wrapped a firm hand around it. I turned to find Dark Hair, grinning down at me with friendly eyes and a perfect smile, as though we’d known each other for years. “Have you eaten?”

&nb
sp; I tried to pull away from him, keeping my movements discreet. I had no intention of making a scene. When he wouldn’t release me, I smiled politely. “I have eaten, thank you. I’m just about to—”

  The king reclined on his throne, his eyes swinging from me to Dark Hair. “Go to the dance floor?” Dark Hair used my elbow to turn me away from the king before guiding me through the crowd of dancing fae. His fingers dug into my arm, the pain making my breath hiss.

  “Let go of me,” I whispered, pulling at my arm again. “I don’t want to dance.”

  He turned on that beaming smile. “Of course you do. Everyone wants to dance at the masquerade ball. It’s the entire reason we attend.”

  I gave a quick yank on my arm and pulled free. “Not me. I have other things to do.” I turned back toward the king. We were already in the center of the crowded dance floor, and leaving wasn’t as easy as he’d made getting here seem. I elbowed my way through the throng and had almost reached the edge when Dark Hair stepped in front of me.

  “Do you have a death wish, lady?” His body blocked all chance I had of seeing the king and knowing whether he was watching in horror, or if he hadn’t given us another thought since we walked away.

  “No. I have a favor to ask the king.”

  The man’s lips pressed tightly together, their fullness momentarily disappearing. “That’s what I mean. It’s a death wish to ask the king a favor tonight.”

  “But…” I shook my head, my brow furrowing. That wasn’t what all the stories said. Tonight was the one night he granted favors. Tonight was the only night he might save Mother. “That can’t be true.” My tone was far from convincing.

  “Can’t it?” He took my arm, leading me between dancers, to the mezzanine side of the room where tables and chairs were set up and fae sat talking, laughing and drinking. He guided me to the balustrade, which he leaned casually upon, looking out at the sea of people below. Cymon’s body was already gone, the mess cleaned up. Guests again danced as if nothing horrifying had happened.