Selina cast a sympathetic gaze at the closed door of Mother’s bedroom. “Maybe we should talk outside? I’d hate to disturb her.”
“I have a patient.”
Selina snorted. “Someone who prefers Aoife and is rude to you even though you’re a better healer than your Mother and probably your patient’s only option?”
That was pretty much how the initial conversation with the man had gone. I hadn’t even had the energy to fight him on it. I knew I could save his foot, but when he told me he would never let someone as ugly and untrustworthy as me touch any part of his body, I swung the door shut in his face. I had bigger things to worry over than someone who needed my help but didn’t want it.
The man was silent for about half a second behind that closed door. As I walked toward Mother’s bedroom, he pushed the door to our cottage open and demanded I help. No apology for the way he’d spoken, just entitlement. And though I would have loved to keep him waiting while I sat and talked with Selina, I also wanted to get the stupid idiot out of my home. “I’m almost done. Just give me a moment. I’ll meet you out back.”
I didn’t think I’d ever been as rude to a patient as I was to that man. I applied the poultice, told him he’d need to visit again tomorrow, and no, Aoife wouldn’t be available to see him. Then I opened the door and shooed him out.
Selina sat waiting on one swing, a children’s book clutched across her chest and tears on her lashes. She’d saved for weeks to buy that book for her little brother before he was born. “Want me to read it to you?” It was Selina’s favorite fairytale about a princess who was strong and powerful but whose people deemed her too ugly to become their Queen. Their cruelty hurt the princess, so she ran away to rule a new kingdom where they didn’t care how she looked.
Selina shook her head. “I know you hate this story.”
I did. I hated it because the very first time Father read it to me, he told me the story was a lie and that the princess had died, killed by the hatred of her people. I’d never gotten over that and was glad Selina didn’t want me to read it. “What haven’t I heard?” I asked, picking up our conversation from the kitchen as I took a seat.
The worry that created creases around Selina’s lips returned. “Prince Fergus found his bride on All Hallows Eve. They’re bonded.”
Bonded was a fae term I hated. It meant magic had decided two fae belonged together and once bonded, they spent the rest of their ridiculously long lives together. Supposedly, a bonded pair could combine their magic, making them stronger than they were individually—as if they needed that. I hated the term because the elite of Holbeck used it when they found someone they wanted to wed. They weren’t bonded at all, they probably weren’t even in love. It was as though pretending to be fae somehow made them better than the rest of us. Besides, I never understood why the fae would allow magic to choose their partner—the old-fashioned way of getting to know someone first and falling in love seemed like the only way to do it.
As for Prince Fergus now being bonded, it didn’t surprise me. There’d been a non-ending supply of women putting themselves forward for the job at the masquerade. It wasn’t something I could make myself care about. Not at the moment. Maybe not ever.
As I opened my mouth to say so, Selina said, “Then he lost her again. She left before he could…” She shrugged.
That was a little more interesting. Not much, but enough to keep me inside this conversation. “Before he could what?”
“Ask for her hand, I guess. The king has spared no expense and searched all of Unseelie for her, but no one’s seen her since that night.”
I shrugged, my attention waning. “Sounds like she doesn’t want anyone to find her.”
Selina’s eyes lit for just a second. “Or maybe they don’t know who they’re searching for. Prince Fergus didn’t see her without her mask. He knew she was the one just from speaking with her. Isn’t that romantic?” Typical that Selina would see the romance in this story—it included the prince, after all. “They have one of her shoes. They’ve traveled through Unseelie trying it on foot after foot, but it didn’t fit anyone. Now Prince Fergus isn’t sure if she was fae or human, so they’re on their way to the Crossing to do the same here in Iadrun.” She drew the syllables of the last word out—Ee-ah-drun—as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to speak her next words. She glanced at her feet before meeting my eyes. “Could it be you?”
I snorted. There was no way. “I would have told you if I danced with the prince.”
“You lost a shoe.”
My heart beat faster as realization dawned. I had lost a shoe. And I’d run off without leaving my name, just like the prince’s new bride. I shook my head. It couldn’t be me. “I didn’t go near the prince.” But what if they’d picked up my shoe by accident, thinking I was his runaway bride? Worse, what if my dark-haired dance partner had handed it to the prince and told him it was his bride’s shoe as some cruel joke? The same way he’d joked about giving Mother the medicine she needed. I rested my forehead against the rope of the swing. Both those options were far more plausible than I wanted them to be.
“They were my shoes.” Selina’s voice was almost too soft to hear.
I swallowed. Her shoes. Meaning, if the king’s messengers made it to Holbeck without finding the runaway bride, and if the shoe they had was the one I’d lost—the one I’d borrowed that had been a fraction too small—then the shoe would fit Selina and she’d be mistaken for the one the prince wanted to marry. I forced light into my voice. “It will be fine. Our names weren’t on the guest list. They have no reason to come to Holbeck.” I would have believed my own words had I not witnessed all those girls entering Faery without an invitation.
Selina stopped swinging and twisted to face me. “I know I tell you all the time how much I’d love to be Prince Fergus’ bride…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to live in Faery. Or marry someone I don’t know. I don’t want to be the prince’s wife.”
I lifted my lips into what I hoped looked like a smile. There was no way I’d let her go if it came to that. If they arrived in Holbeck before they found the woman they were searching for, and if Selina tried that shoe on before me, I’d step forward and tell everyone it was me who’d worn the shoe. I’d show them the dress and mask I wore that night and deal with the consequences. But it would not happen. It just wouldn’t. I squeezed her hand. “It will be fine. They’ll probably find her before they make it here.”
It was another two full days before the king’s messengers—the Wild Hunt—arrived in Holbeck. They appeared just after the sun reached its peak, their huge hounds heralding their entrance.
From the far end of town, they made their way from house to house. Selina and I waited on the swings behind our cottages, our hands linked while we silently wished for some other foot to fit that blasted shoe. We wished to hear the hounds’ barking grow quieter until it disappeared, taking the Wild Hunt far from here. We wished for the king to call off this stupidity. We might as well have wished the sky rain down flakes of gold.
Selina’s mother paced nervously inside their cottage, while my mother knew nothing of what was about to happen, as close to death as she was.
We stayed where we sat even when, through the windows in Selina’s cottage that looked right through to the street, we saw Xion Starguard swing down from his mount and stride up the path to her front door, four hunters in his wake. I hoped Selina’s mother might ignore the knocking. If no one came to the door, perhaps the Wild Hunt would move on to another village and forget about us. But Selina’s mother would never risk angering the Wild Hunt, not so soon after losing her child to them. She didn’t realize that showing them out to where the two of us sat might mean she would lose another.
Xion stopped in front of us, his eyes first rolling over Selina, then me, while his hunters and their hounds spread themselves around the edge of our yard, their backs to the woods, to watch. His lip curled when our eyes met. I imagined he was
remembering the last time he was here. I felt much the same level of disdain for him, except mine was mixed with a whole pile of fear.
“You first.” He pointed to Selina. The shoe—Selina’s shoe—dangled from his fingers, tiny in his huge hands, and the mate of the one I’d worn to the masquerade.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go first.” I toed off my boots.
Xion’s eyes moved to me and his words were slow. He looked down his nose, leaving me in no doubt he felt speaking to me was beneath him. “Last I checked, it was me, not you, in charge of this ridiculous woman hunt. Or am I mistaken?” His voice was low and without inflection.
I shook my head, no words forming. The power in his voice made my hands shake, and I pushed them beneath my thighs.
He turned to Selina. “You will go first.”
I watched the shoe swaying in Xion’s hand while my brain churned through ways to make sure no one forced Selina to marry someone she’d never met.
Xion crouched in front of her, and with gentler hands than I ever imagined him to possess, took her foot and slipped it into the strappy shoe.
I held my breath and closed my eyes, waiting for the words I knew would follow. We’ve found her. This is Prince Fergus’ bride.
When those words didn’t come, I opened my eyes to find Selina smiling while Xion shook his head. “Sorry, miss, but this can’t be your shoe. You won’t be marrying the prince.” This task painted him in a completely different light than the two times I’d encountered him before. Raw power still rolled off his muscular body, but today he was cordial, polite even.
Selina ducked her head. A movement that could have looked like she was upset, but that I suspected was her hiding her relief.
I shook my head at the stupidity of the process, looking at the shoe on Selina’s foot. The shoe that had once belonged to her had been tried on so many times in the past weeks, and by so many women, that the leather straps were now stretched and gaping. For her to wear this shoe now, the leather would need another hole punched in it for the buckle to slip through.
Xion removed the shoe and looked at me. “Your turn.”
My heart gave a giant lurch, and I forced myself to draw in a single calming breath. It would be okay. The shoe had never fit me that well to begin with. This could not be a match.
“Your foot.” The eye holes on Xion’s mask narrowed with impatience. Perhaps his cordiality only went as far as Selina.
I held out my foot. He rested it in his lap and slid the shoe onto it, clasping the buckle. His hand rested upon my ankle as he worked. I watched, waiting for the words he’d said to Selina, the words he’d said to thousands of women over these past few weeks.
His fingers tightened on my ankle and his voice was so quiet, I wasn’t sure I’d heard. “But … you’re human.” His gaze met mine, confusion creasing lines into the forehead of his mask.
My heart dropped deep into my stomach. I shook my head, my voice as quiet as his. “I’m not her. I’ve never even met the prince.” As I spoke, he released my ankle, and I saw what he meant. The shoe fit as if it were made for my foot. Straps that had gaped on Selina rested perfectly against my skin. The length was exact. Even the sparkling silver color complimented my skin tone.
I shook my head again. The prince might as well have been in a different room to me, he was so far away the night of the masquerade. “It must be a mistake. Someone’s playing a joke. Or … or there could be hundreds of other women with this exact shoe size. You just need to keep hunting.” I pulled my foot from his lap. “I’m not her.” If I kept saying it, he might believe me.
Xion nodded, and for a moment it seemed as if he agreed. Until he spoke. “It can’t be anyone else. The shoe is spelled to fit only the one that wore it that night.” His eyes narrowed as he looked over my face. “Ears.”
I knew what he was asking. He wanted to see my humiliation. The thing I never showed anyone. If it proved I wasn’t the girl the prince wanted as a bride, then I’d choke back my embarrassment and let him see.
He brushed my hair away from my left ear and I closed my eyes, hating his hands on me. I knew the moment he’d seen my deformity because he sucked in a deep breath. My cheeks heated. I already knew I was hideous, I didn’t need scum like him reminding me. I pulled from his grasp and dragged my hair back over my ears.
Selina’s mouth was set in a tiny circle, and her eyes kept bouncing from me to him. She reached out her hand and wound her fingers through mine. Her touch settled my breathing.
“Everything all right?” One hunter called from beside the back door to my cottage.
Xion blinked, his face—that mask—unreadable. “Fine.” He got to his feet. “We’re done here. Neither of these girls are the ones, and there is no one else left in this village who hasn’t tried the shoe. Go ahead to the next village and announce our arrival. I’ll be along in a few minutes. Once I’ve removed this shoe.”
The hunters filed past without another word while Xion bent and unbuckled the strap. His movements were slow, and he watched his men from the side of his vision. The moment they climbed on their horses and rode from our town, he yanked the shoe from my foot, pulled me to my feet and dragged me into my cottage.
SIX
I pulled against Xion’s grip. As we reached the steps up to the cottage, Selina jumped to her feet. “Wait! What are you doing with her?”
“She’s perfectly safe with me. I just have a few questions for her.” Xion’s voice left no room for argument, though I hoped Selina might. I didn’t want to be alone with this man. It didn’t matter that he’d said I couldn’t be her. Or that he’d released his men to go to the next village. I’d seen that shoe on my foot and it had fit better than any shoe had ever fit me.
Xion opened the door and pulled me inside, depositing me on a seat at the dining table. “Who else is here?”
I shook my head. “Just Mother. But she’s…” I shrugged. He was the one who’d hurt Mother. He knew exactly what her current state of health was.
With a single nod, he scanned the room as if I might have hidden someone behind the potted plant, before folding his arms and staring down at me.
I glared at him, refusing to show my terror, even as he leaned in and brushed my hair aside for the second time.
He straightened, his eyes roving over me before he shook his head, speaking to himself. “You can’t be her. It’s not possible to make those things look normal.” By things he meant ears, and by normal he meant fae.
I pulled my hair down over them. He wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t heard a thousand times already. It didn’t matter how many times I heard them, the words always hit like a punch to the stomach. He smirked, as if he knew he’d landed a verbal hit. Then he pulled a leather pouch from his pocket and tipped something into his waiting hand. With his spare hand, he gripped my chin so I couldn’t move. Then, gently, he touched my ear.
A sharp burning pain ripped through me and I cried out. He had the ear tip I’d lost at the masquerade and he was forcing it onto me. His grip was firm and no matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t move from his grasp.
Selina banged on the door, her fist making it rattle on the hinges. I opened my mouth to scream again and beg her to come inside, but Xion was quicker. He released my chin and put his hand over my mouth, his voice low in my ear. “If you want her to live, tell her you’re fine.”
My breath caught in my throat. This man killed and maimed without a second thought. I would not allow Selina to be his next victim. I nodded, and he lifted his hand allowing me to speak. “I’m fine, Selina. I tripped over my own feet.” I glanced at Xion, eyebrows raised. Was that good enough?
He shook his head. Not a good enough excuse.
I drew in my breath. “We’re just talking. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll come over as soon as he’s gone.”
There was a long silence from the other side of the door. Selina didn’t believe me. I knew she wouldn’t. I on
ly hoped her fear of the Wild Hunt would be enough to make her do as I asked. She didn’t want to leave her mother with no children.
Sure enough, with a sigh loud enough to hear inside the cottage, her footsteps faded away. Xion released his hold on me, his eyes on my newly formed fae ear. He seemed already to have forgotten Selina. “This is powerful magic. Who made it for you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Do you wear them often?” His lips curled as he spoke, as if it was so revolting that a human would trick a fae with magic that he almost couldn’t say the words. Or perhaps he was just upset that I would dare wear pointed fae ears to disguise myself as one of them.
Part of me wanted to rail against that arrogance that said they were better than us. The rest of me didn’t have a death wish. “I’ve only worn them once. Today makes twice.”
“At the masquerade.” There was a sigh in his voice, the only time I’d heard any emotion from his low monotone.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He ran a hand through his long inky hair, pacing away before turning and stalking back. “You must come with me.” He wrapped his fingers around my arm.
I pulled away, shaking my head. “No. I have commitments here. I don’t want to marry that horrible prince and live in that awful place. I can’t be bonded to him.”
The eyebrows on the mask lifted. “I thought you said you hadn’t met the prince before.”
“I haven’t.” The closest I’d ever been to him was across the room at the masquerade.
“So you can’t be bonded to him, can you?”
I stared at him. Was he agreeing with me?
He sighed at my blank stare. “You’d have to meet him twice—at least a year and a day apart—to be bonded to him that way. Does that clear things up for you?” His voice was filled with sarcasm, the mask responding to his facial movements as if it weren’t a mask—forehead creasing and cheeks moving. I was so intent on watching to see how that might be possible that I almost missed his words. “You’re nothing to the prince, and he certainly doesn’t want to marry a human. There’s been a mistake.” He stalked closer. “But you gave up all rights to choose anything the night you tricked your way into Faery and spent the evening pretending to be fae at the masquerade.”
Kingdom of Yesterday's Lies (Royals of Faery Book 1) Page 6
