Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence

by Anna Patrick Paige

  “You would do well to remember that your happiness means nothing to the people of Athera. You serve a purpose to the world, and if you exhaust that means, your King will have no use for you.”

  “I would rather exhaust every option I’ve ever had and fall out of the King’s favor than live in that sunless volcanic nation with you.”

  He nodded indifferently. “Unfortunately for you, my mind is made up.” He closed the gap between us. “I know there is more to you—things you don’t know about yourself. I can help you. Hold you in your darkest moments while you discover who you really are free from Brisleian rule. Together we would be unstoppable, with power beyond your wildest imagination. But if you still refuse me,” he murmured on a throaty hiss, “I will have no choice but to bind you into submission until my plans become your only desire.”

  “First you force me into marriage, and now you threaten me with some sick version of slavery,” I whispered.

  “Yes, Princess, if that’s what it takes, then that’s what I am willing to do.”

  I ran from the ballroom in a desperate flight, the clank of my heels on the stone floor sending furious echoes down the hall to my chambers.

  Elizabetta followed. My ladies lost their grace and stumbled to keep up. They whispered to each other, ready to spread any rumor detailing the evening’s events.

  I violently shoved my chamber doors before the guards could open them, and they swung on their hinges, hitting the walls with a defiant thud. The guards shut them behind me and sent worried glances to my ladies.

  The rage that had been building since the moment Prince Marcus entered the Rose Court burst to the surface. I let out a harsh scream, allowing all my fury to roar through my throat. Startled, my ladies scurried to the bedchamber.

  My cheeks burned hot. My pulse throbbed. I trembled, wringing my hands. Such fervent anger was immodest and improper, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  “Why!” I shrieked, throwing a silver goblet from the center table across the room. The base stuck into the wall like a knife, piercing the quartz with ease. I tilted my head, examining the oddity of it.

  “Ayleth, calm down.” Elizabetta sank into a chair at the dining table and folded her hands in her lap.

  I paced from wall to wall. I felt abandoned. Consumed by a sea of red that turned each thought into a lightning strike to the brain. “I will not be shipped to Podar like cargo. I will not be an object for them to trade. A marriage proposal? I won’t do it! I won’t!” Each asinine word Prince Marcus had spoken echoed in my head, driving me to madness. I let out another scream.

  Daphne dropped a fire iron in the next room. It clanged loudly on the floor, and my raging shrills went up an octave. “Get out!” My throat burned. “Get out!”

  The girls instantly ran from my apartments in a disorderly fashion.

  I snatched a glass of red wine sitting next to Elizabetta and downed it in one gulp. She plucked the empty goblet from my grasp and stole the pitcher, dumping the remaining wine into the water basin.

  “He wants to break the marriage taboo!”

  She returned to the table and refolded her hands.

  “He wants to move my household to Podar. To live with him! So that we may know each other better! I do not wish to know him at all! And I certainly do not wish to know him better.”

  She sighed. “You must relax. Take a deep breath. It will help.”

  I ignored her. “And if I refuse him, he says he will break me into submission!”

  “Ayleth—”

  “And my parents have agreed to this insanity!” I slammed my fist on the table.

  “Someone will hear you,” she warned.

  “I don’t care who hears me! Perhaps they will reconsider this ridiculous prospect.” I turned to the door and projected my voice so any palace ear within range would know my discontent. “I am the crowned Princess of Brisleia!”

  Elizabetta put her elbows on the table and massaged her temples.

  The chamber doors exploded open. Unannounced, my grandmother barged into the receiving room. She gripped my shoulder and shoved me into the chair beside my nurse. “Do you have any idea what they are saying about you in court as we speak?” Ambrosia grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. “Honestly, Ayleth, is this the behavior of a Divine Princess? You are doing nothing but reinforcing the belief that you are an unruly child who needs to be sold into marital control. Immature. Selfish. Incapable of making her own decisions. Do you truly believe this is going to change the outcome? Stop your screaming and complaining this instant.”

  I jerked my chin away, but the sting of her hand lingered. Shoving past her, I stormed into my bedroom. The room had been bombarded by the gifts from Prince Marcus. Gold boxes and trays invaded every free table and chair. I dug my nails into my scalp. I couldn’t escape him.

  “Royalty does not behave so despicably towards a decision made by Parliament, especially when it is endorsed by the Senate,” Ambrosia said to my back.

  I nabbed one of the parcels and hurled it into the fire. The box came apart with a smash and sizzled as the small intricate cakes inside turned to char.

  Ambrosia’s anger began to wane. “I understand how you feel. More so than anyone in this family. I know how unpleasant it is to be forced into an unloving precontracted marriage. But this has been the way of Divine women for thousands of years.”

  “Betrothals and contracts, yes, but never to another Divine.”

  “It is your duty to do your part for Athera,” she said steadily.

  “How is this advantageous to Brisleia—or Podar? They have less Divine than we do. It’s taboo for a reason, isn’t it?”

  Ambrosia moved several packages to sit on the couch in front of the fire. “No one knows for certain what will happen if two Divines attempt to create a child. No one has ever dared risk an entire generation. When the King told me his plans, I can’t say I agreed with him. But neither of us have the authority to disagree.”

  My knees buckled, and I landed on the cushions. “He could have gone after anyone else. Why me?”

  “If Prince Marcus desires to marry a fellow Divine, from a political standpoint it makes sense to pair with you.” She set her hand on my shoulder. “Ayleth, you have been born to a rare privilege. Your existence is tied to Brisleia. Because of that, you have obligations. Responsibilities.”

  “So, because my life is tied, the King can send me to Podar for that Prince’s sick ambitions?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “I wish it were different. I too tried to escape it. But, like me, you will come to realize you are bound to that which is expected of you.” My heart withered at her words. “The world means more than your happiness. The people come first. The land comes first. That is what it is to be Divine. Our honor and our burden.”

  My vision blurred from the first burn of tears.

  “He is handsome, isn’t he?” she said, as if to soothe the bitter realization coming over me.

  “Yes,” I shakily admitted.

  Marcus was beautiful. Tall and elegant. His poise was remarkable. His basil-green eyes were dark and mysterious. Perfection that not even I could match.

  “A nice smile, graceful,” she added, nearly taking the words from my head. “I was surprised by his appearance. I wasn’t expecting someone so powerful to be so young. A Prince playing the role of a King. It makes him more influential than your brother or Prince Tydous. Being the Queen of Podar will give you more influence than you could ever have had as a leftover princess.”

  “Being a leftover princess is enough.” I hated that I found him attractive. It made me as dimwitted as the other swooning girls. The idea made me nauseated, and I pressed my fingertips to my temples, trying to force it out of my head.

  “The two of you will be the first foreign Divine marriage in all history. A wedding so extravagant it will be remembered for all time. Not even your brother can contribute to Athera so magnanimously.”

  It was easy to listen to Ambro
sia knowing she empathized with my situation. I took a deep breath, but before I could respond, the guards entered the room.

  “Her Royal Highness the Queen.”

  “Oh, no.” I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

  My mother floated into the room, disappointment and antipathy already written in her expression. “Ambrosia, do not coddle her.” She shooed my grandmother from my side. “Never in all my years at court have I seen royalty treated in such a shameful fashion by a Divine Princess.” I could almost see my mother’s blood boiling beneath her skin. “Ayleth, you are to publicly accept the engagement from Prince Marcus. The King will decide if you will move your household to Podar, though after tonight, do not expect to be greeted with kindness from him. Podar is a fine country. You shall be a proud Podarian citizen and its Divine Queen, provided the Prince will still have you after such an embarrassing display.” Queen Helena placed her hands on her hips and waited for me to beg for forgiveness.

  The rage flared back with a vengeance. I stood to look her directly in the eyes. “I will not go to Podar!” I screamed, close enough for her to feel my heated breath on her face. “If you hold volcanoes in such high regard, then you go live there.”

  My mother’s petite hand flew from her side and struck me across the face. My neck cracked from the sudden blow. The impact stung more than pained me. She cradled her hand, a hint of regret passing over her features. “You will go where your King commands!” she screeched, followed by a wince.

  Elizabetta was by my side in an instant, checking my cheek for damage.

  I sank onto the couch and allowed the tears to take me. I wanted to seem meek and too young for marriage. “How can I mean so little to you? How can the happiness of your only daughter be of no consequence to you?”

  “I am thinking of you.” She shook her sore hand and placed it back on her hip. “Prince Marcus is a magnificent match.”

  “You don’t know him. And I don’t love him.”

  “Love!” she shrilled in disbelief. “This isn’t about love! It’s about your country! You will not destroy this opportunity for something so nonsensical.”

  “But Luken . . .” I sniffled. “He promised things would be different for me.”

  “Luken is not your lord and master. You obey the Divine King of Brisleia.” Frustration hardened her jaw. “Any woman alive would be thrilled to marry Prince Marcus.”

  “I refuse his offer.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the cushions.

  “You cannot refuse, Ayleth. The King and I have accepted the proposal on your behalf.”

  I gasped in horror.

  “Prince Marcus simply wished to go through the formality of asking you himself. For a foolish girl who wishes to find love before marriage, you would do well to remember that he is offering you a chance to know him through the Ember Court so you are not strangers on your wedding day. What more could you ask for?”

  “Forcing me to do something against my will and hoping I become used to it with time is not love.”

  Queen Helena threw her hands in the air and stepped away, moving for the doorway.

  “I won’t marry him, Mother.” I stood, wiping tears from my cheeks. “You won’t change my mind. I’m not going to Podar. You will have to carry me kicking and screaming to a marriage ceremony, and once there, I will not say I do.”

  “Ayleth.” She stepped back into the bedchamber. “I hereby banish you and your ladies from court. I also remove your maids from your service. Until you willingly accept the engagement to Prince Marcus, you will not be welcome in the King’s presence, nor mine. I advise you against any further protest to this marriage, or you may anger the King beyond the point of reconciliation.” How could she do this to me? “Keep your head on your shoulders, Daughter. It is a pretty head, after all.”

  I held my ground until the doors closed behind her, then collapsed into a puddle on the bear rug.

  I could just make out the queen’s voice from outside. “Place additional security at her door. She isn’t to leave these apartments, and no one is to enter.”

  I stared at the fur, unable to move. “Am I under arrest?”

  “Of course not,” Ambrosia drawled, moving onto the floor next to me. She gripped my arms and pulled me up from the fetal position I’d curled into. “The queen is merely hoping a few days in isolation will make you see things her way.”

  “I’ll never see things her way.”

  My grandmother struggled to sit comfortably. Her old bones creaked inside her red taffeta gown. “Who then, if not Prince Marcus? Did you have someone else in mind?”

  “No, I just hoped since I wasn’t heir to the crown that I might be allowed the freedom Luken was offering.”

  “The amount of time you and your brother sit around talking about frivolous fantasies is beyond me.”

  “How could Luken allow this to happen?” I moaned.

  “You will not blame your brother for this. Not even he can control the will of the King.”

  A door guard entered the chamber and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Your Highnesses,” he began, “His Divine Majesty the King requests the Queen Mother return to her quarters for the remainder of the evening to give the Princess time for contemplation and reflection.”

  “Blast that son of mine,” Ambrosia grumbled and shifted her legs to stand. I immediately rose to my feet to help her. I met her pale blue eyes with desperation, and she placed a hand on my cheek. “Try to get some rest,” she advised, kissed my forehead, and was escorted from my apartments.

  The doors closed, and the lock clicked from the outside.

  The room felt unnervingly silent, except for the crackle of the fire and the delicate pop from Elizabetta pulling the lacing of my dress back through the eyelets. I breathed in deeply when my corset loosened and exhaled the panic that had caused my chest to tighten.

  Elizabetta draped a robe over my shoulders. “I’ll draw you a bath with rose oil. It will help you relax.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  She nodded and wandered about the room to remove each golden parcel. I wasn’t sure where she was taking them, nor did I care.

  Resting on my bed, hidden among the clutter, was the beautiful onyx box containing Luken’s gift.

  I slid the dagger out of the purple velvet bag. He had known this was going to happen to me upon choosing this present. He had known all along. Why had he acted as though I had the option to decide my own happiness when something this heinous was in my future? I wanted to sleep and shut out the world, but closing my eyes meant visiting the dreams.

  “You can leave me, Elizabetta.” I never ordered her away, but I didn’t want anyone near me.

  She smiled sweetly. “Ayleth, this isn’t the end. Deep down you know that.”

  She closed my bedchamber door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. She wouldn’t go far, likely remaining in the receiving room until I called for her.

  I eased the dagger from its inky scabbard and surveyed the blade. I had never held a weapon before or touched anything deadlier than a butter knife. The blade was heavier than I expected and innately beautiful, with the crest of Medial Alexandria etched into the metal. Luken wouldn’t have parted with such a prized item easily, especially considering it was impossible to obtain any weapon from Medial Alexandria’s stock. It hinted at something disturbing.

  Luken had spent a great deal of time listening to Prince Marcus during meetings with the Senate. He might have armed me for protection against a man who would force himself upon me. This dagger could be the only method to save my dignity after they sent me to live in Castle Caldera.

  The King of Podar was old and ill; he would never produce another heir if Marcus died. Was my modesty and pride worth so much that I could be capable of murder—and thereby the destruction of an entire quarter of Athera by my own hand?

  I shivered.

  Despite the blazing fireplace, the bedchamber had gone cold as night set in. In the garden, the fountain
had slowed to a trickle, choked by frost, and lingering traces of winter chill crept past the open curtains. I moved to close them to further isolate myself.

  As the drapes fell away from the wall, a knock came from the hidden door in the corner. I shot an evil glare at the passageway. I did not want to see Luken.

  The door cracked just enough for his fingers to curl around the opening. “Are you decent?” he asked.

  “Get out!” I slammed the door, smashing his fingers in the gap.

  “Ow! Ayleth!” He pushed the door open and stepped into the room, cradling his mashed hand.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Just listen to me—”

  “You knew!” I swallowed my tears before they made an appearance. I could stand up to the queen and Ambrosia, but my brother’s deception broke my heart.

  His proud stance crumbled. “Yes, I knew.”

  “You didn’t tell me. How could you not tell me?”

  “Believe me, I wanted to. I wanted to so much,” he expressed.

  “I would have protested this engagement before it was too late,” I said, my voice unsteady.

  “Yes, you would have panicked without giving Marcus the opportunity to propose. That is why you needed to hear it from him, and I had to give him the respect he deserved as a fellow Divine Prince.”

  “In case you missed the obvious fact, it doesn’t matter what answer I give. The lot of you have decided this marriage is taking place regardless of my opinion.” Luken blurred as I lost the struggle against my tears.

  “I explained to father how much you would detest this idea before the treaty was drawn.”

  “How little that did,” I snapped.

  “I’ve been fighting Parliament and the Senate for the last year. There is no budging the decision.”

  “You’ve known for a year?” I yelled, astonished, and clutched the dagger tighter. I felt stronger with it in my hand. Safer, as if no one could touch me as long as I had it.

  Luken put his hands up to shush me.

  “I’m to be isolated,” I choked out. “My attendants have been stripped and banished until I come to my senses.”