False Queen

by Nikki Jefford

  My throat had tightened so much I could no longer speak. At least I’d finally said my piece. Elred was dead to me once and for all. If he didn’t move out of the neighborhood, I would! I’d take Jhaeros, Fhaornik, and Mrs. Calarel with me and find a place far out of reach.

  I stomped up the stairs to the second level, entered the bedchamber Jhaeros and I shared, and slammed the door shut.

  A short time later, a soft tap came at the door right before Jhaeros entered. He moved carefully as though not to startle me until reaching the edge of the bed where I hugged my legs against my chest. Jhaeros eased onto the spot beside me. He pressed his hand against my thigh, the warmth from his fingers radiating through the fabric of my gown. “I’m sorry you had to listen to that shit,” he said solemnly.

  I swallowed. “Sorry I left you alone with him. Did you kick his ass?”

  “I kicked him out and told him not to come back.”

  I nodded absently.

  Jhaeros pursed his lips. “I will speak to Lady Dashwood this week.”

  Anger boiled my brains.

  “I don’t want you speaking to that harpy. No doubt she was thrilled to offer my father a room once she learned of his disapproval. I bet she loves having an ally to cast shame and censure over me. How perfect,” I spat bitterly.

  “Misery loves company.” Jhaeros’s attempt at teasing me out of my dark cloud fell flat. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “That male has venom for blood and a dried-up pit for a heart. I turned a blind eye to it at first, but after your tournament, I couldn’t fool myself any longer. I wish I could turn back time. I wish I hadn’t been so damn heedless. I wish I could have fought for you, prevented you from ever going to Faerie and marrying into that family of vipers. It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame.”

  I let gravity pull my legs down as I turned to Jhaeros, placing my hand on his cheek. I stared into the rich brown depths of his eyes and whispered, “No more blame.”

  “If I could do it all over—”

  “Hush, my love. I don’t care how the story began. I like where it led us.” I took Jhaeros’s hand and placed it on my belly.

  My earlier anguish and rage morphed into feelings of joy and anticipation. I already felt so much love for this child Jhaeros and I had made together.

  Ours would be the happy family I’d always dreamed of.

  Chapter Seven

  Hensley

  M

  orning sunlight streamed in through the window of my chamber, veiling the room in its soft light.

  Today I would become queen.

  It should have been the happiest day of my life, yet there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Something that didn’t feel quite right.

  I perched on the edge of my cushioned stool in front of my vanity in a silk robe. My breakfast sat uneaten on a silver tray in the adjoining room.

  Before losing my ability to speak my mind, Liri had questioned me about Earth’s wedding customs. I’d known only enough to share what was typical of America—that it was considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her gown before the wedding. Liri wasn’t taking any chances. He’d decided he wouldn’t see me at all until the ceremony.

  Galather stood on the other side of my door, guarding my chamber from the hallway. Inside, Theresa, a human girl of nineteen, brushed my hair. She’d been promoted from the kitchens to my personal maid by Liri’s order. He said he wouldn’t trust a Fae to tend to me, a fact that oozed with irony.

  Theresa’s hair was pulled back in a bun, as though she still worked in the kitchen. I’d tried to offer her food from my tray, but she’d shaken her head and said a curt, “I ate earlier with the kitchen staff.”

  I couldn’t even bond with the humans at Dahlquist. They’d stopped talking to me the moment I’d become Cirrus’s mistress. They probably despised me for becoming Liri’s mate.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that for Theresa, tending to me wasn’t a promotion at all. I’d observed the cliques that formed between the various teams of laundry, kitchen, and waitstaff. They got their work done efficiently, but they also conversed as they did so. Some groups even liked to sing in harmony. I’d stopped many times to listen to the laundry crew as they belted out lyrics from back home while hanging the clothes and linens to dry in the courtyard. Theresa had been taken from her friends. I wouldn’t gain her respect. The only thing I could expect was her resentment.

  I felt the echo of longing pass through my soul, wishing I had a companion like Aerith to laugh and talk to. We’d brought each other comfort day after day. What kind of life did I have to look forward to being despised by not only my in-laws but my own kind?

  No family. No friends. No one to congratulate me on my wedding day.

  I stared into the mirror, looking at the room reflected behind me. A gorgeous red wedding gown draped over my bed with a lacy train. Wearing white was one part of the American custom Liri waved off.

  He said white was a color of surrender and sacrifice. We needed to be bold. Nothing was bolder than red.

  Fierce.

  Passionate.

  Deadly.

  The mirror reflected a young woman with sagging shoulders and a lowered head. I felt more like a lamb being led to slaughter than a woman about to become queen. In the final days leading up to the ceremony, my brain had felt fuzzy. I’d been enchanted and cursed. I couldn’t talk in normal sentences. Liri told me everything would be okay once we were married.

  But something wasn’t right.

  When he’d asked me if I remembered what happened to me at the Fable Festival, I’d searched my brain and only come up with static. I’d frowned, searching the ceiling for answers before shaking my head.

  Liri had pushed his concern away with a confident smile. “All will be well once we are wed and you are crowned, dear one.”

  Theresa ran the brush through my hair one more time then set it on the vanity. “After you put on your dress, I will style your hair.”

  As I stood, Theresa walked over to my bed and lifted the red gown. I removed my robe. My dress was red, but my undergarments were white and lacy. Taking the dress from Theresa, I stepped into the garment and put my arms through the loose straps.

  Theresa looked me up and down neither smiling nor frowning. “Now if you sit back down, I’ll do your hair.”

  I swept over to the vanity, watching myself in the mirror. “You look beautiful, Hensley,” I told myself as Theresa ran the brush through my tresses until they shone.

  A heavy fist pounded at the door. I stood as Galather walked in.

  “The time has come, Miss Allen.”

  I turned to Theresa, nodding my thanks, before gliding past Galather into the hallway. We walked side by side down the southern corridor. Once we entered the corridor connecting the public rooms, noise echoed down the halls, chatter from the arriving guests. We skirted the main artery, moving past stationed guards at every corner. The commotion faded as we took a back route to the king’s private entrance that led to the back of the throne room where the dais was erected.

  Jastra paced inside the antechamber. She wore a full-length black strapless ballgown instead of her usual short slip covered with a see-through sheath of bright colors. Her hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, the teal popping against the black of her gown. Her pupils darted wildly every which way. I’d expected her customary cool callousness, not this flapping butterfly that couldn’t hold still.

  “Oh, do calm yourself, sister,” came Sarfina’s huff. “There’s nothing to be done now. Our brother is marrying a mortal. It can’t get any worse than that.”

  I hadn’t noticed Sarfina when I first entered. She blended in with the black settee she sat upon, leaning back with a smug smile. Sarfina wore the exact same dress as Jastra, with her blonde hair loose at her shoulders. Circlets of copper laurel leaves perched atop both their heads.

  Galather cleared his throat. “Princess Jastra. Princess Sarfina. It is time to take your pla
ces.”

  Sarfina sprang to her feet and whooshed by me toward a door that had been made to look like part of the wall other than its brass knob and the lines cut into the burgundy-and-cream diamond-patterned wallpaper.

  Jastra held back, pulling at her hair.

  A shiver wafted down my back like a cold whisper. Her unease was rubbing off onto me.

  “Jastra,” Galather said in a warning tone.

  “Come, Jastra,” Sarfina beckoned. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Jastra glared at her. “Why do you appear so smug?”

  “Ladies!” Galather’s arms stretched forward as though he meant to herd them into the throne room—that or pick them up and carry them out. “The king is waiting.”

  That caught Jastra’s attention. She lifted her head and strode ahead of Sarfina to the door, but before opening it, she spun around and grabbed her sister by the wrist. Sarfina gave out a startled yelp. “If you know something, you better tell me now.”

  Sarfina’s lips drew back. “Unhand me, you blue-haired bitch.” From Sarfina’s next cry, I gathered Jastra squeezed tighter.

  “I know of no harm that will come to our brother or the human,” Sarfina said.

  “Which brother and which human?” Jastra demanded.

  For once, her savagery brought me pleasure.

  “I know of no harm that will come to Hensley or Liri,” Sarfina spat out Liri’s name.

  A surge of relief entered my lungs.

  Jastra’s jaw remained clenched, but she let Sarfina go. “I’ll be watching you,” she warned.

  Sarfina scoffed. “Shouldn’t you be watching Liri?”

  “Ladies!” Galather said again, his deep voice rumbling around the room. Once Jastra and Sarfina exited the room, Galather offered me his arm. He lowered his voice when asking, “Ready?”

  I nodded, taking his arm.

  Two feet from the door connecting to the throne room, the blond-haired Goliath placed his hand over mine. “You look lovely, Miss Allen. You will make a good queen.”

  It took me a second to process his words, and when I did, I felt like I might melt into a puddle on the spot. Tears swarmed over my eyes.

  Without another word, Galather removed his hand from mine and opened the door.

  A hush fell over the throne room as all eyes turned to Galather and me. With sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows from high above, I could almost pretend I was in a church. I’d expected the room to be packed with a similar crowd that had gathered for Teryani’s coronation, but Liri’s throne room was barely a third full.

  Perhaps it was for my safety. Or perhaps the noble families didn’t want to show support for a human queen.

  Yet again, a feeling of wrongness came over me, but it didn’t stop my legs from moving one after another. The length and train of my gown covered the ruby-jeweled slippers, which reminded me of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.

  If I was sure of one thing, it was that I didn’t want to go home.

  There’s no place like here, I told myself. And no male like Liri. For better or worse, I’d given him my heart. There was no one I’d rather spend my nights with. He cared deeply about my safety, well-being, and happiness. At times it seemed as though it consumed him. And he needed my love. I knew it like I knew my own heartbeat.

  We would be happy together.

  I stared up at my beloved, standing with Ryo at his side. They were dressed in formal black suits. Liri wore a red cravat, Ryo a white one. Like his sisters, Liri wore his hair loose and long, but instead of copper laurel leaves, he wore a thick gold crown on top of his white head. Beside him, Ryo had the same matching laurel leaves as his sisters over his thick, dark locks, and he held a small cream pillow with a delicate gold crown on top. My crown. As soon as Liri saw me, his eyes lit up.

  Galather walked me to the stairs at the side of the dais. No organs blasted, no notes of the union about to take place. I took the stairs up, one at a time, careful not to trip as my lacy red train dragged behind me. Hopefully, it wouldn’t catch on the edge of a stair. I was a bundle of nerves, but I moved in slow motion. I wouldn’t mess up this ceremony. The kingdom was watching. Well, a select few families, anyway, but they’d be the ones to recap this afternoon’s proceedings.

  At the top of the dais, I paused before continuing to a spot beside Liri. He offered me a pleased smile as I approached, taking my place in front of Jastra and Sarfina, who stood with me.

  A handsome Fae with long brown hair tied in a ribbon at his back walked up the opposite set of stairs, carrying a thin leather-bound book in one hand.

  He strode to the center of the stage, facing us with a merry smile that seemed so out of place it made me shudder. Even back home, wedding officials were more stoic.

  Once Liri had nodded at him to begin, the male opened the book, still holding it one-handed.

  “My king, queen-to-be, royal family, and noble guests,” he said in a booming voice, turning slightly to face the crowd when he included them in his address. The male faced us fully before continuing. “It is my privilege today to bind King Liri Elmray, fourth son of the late King Merith Elmray of Dahlquist, with this mortal woman, Hensley Allen of”—the male squinted at his book—“Seattle, Washington, Earth. Today, Miss Allen becomes both the king’s mate and the kingdom of Dahlquist’s new queen.” He paused as though waiting for applause. “We will begin with the king’s promise.”

  Jastra handed Liri a small jeweled dagger.

  “Hensley Allen,” Liri said, eyes latching on to mine. “Today I claim you as my one true mate, my first and my only to protect and cherish from now until the end.”

  Fresh tears gathered in my eyes. I left them there until they felt ready to spill. Then I blinked.

  Liri turned his left hand over, palm facing up and made a cut in his heart line.

  “If you feel for me as I do for you, give me your hand.”

  I offered him a smile, along with my hand. With gentle care, Liri cut along my heart line until blood filled my palm.

  He handed the dagger back to Jastra then reached out. We clasped hands, our blood mixing. My heart pumped full of strength and love. This felt right. This I didn’t question. I gripped Liri’s hand harder. His lips parted slightly. We stared into one another’s eyes, and there was magic in the moment until the male officiating the ceremony announced in a booming voice that we were mated.

  “And now for the crowning,” he said.

  Ryo lifted the cream pillow. Liri released my hand, turned to his brother, and plucked the crown off.

  I balled the fingers of my bloody hand. My heart began to hammer as Liri stepped in front of me with the golden crown. He lifted it to place on my head. Instinctively, I took a step back.

  Sarfina snorted.

  Liri frowned.

  He tried again, and again I stepped away.

  I thought I heard some murmurs from the crowd. Liri’s eyes hardened. He lunged forward as though he was a dogcatcher with a collar and brought the golden circlet down over me.

  As soon as the crown touched my head, the weight of it fell through me as though I’d turned transparent. I heard the gold thump over the wooden dais right before my body got sucked into a vortex and my memories of this fantastical realm evaporated like water beneath a scorching sun.

  Chapter Eight

  Aerith

  F

  lour dusted the kitchen counter and my polka-dotted apron stretched over my belly as I prepared a sugared dough.

  Mrs. Calarel had the afternoon off, and I was in cookie-making mode.

  A fire blazed in the brick oven, filling the kitchen with warmth and light. I had the space all to myself to hum and mix sugar, butter, eggs, and cream before adding in my flour mixture. Just wait until I had the cookies baking. Oh, the smells. It would be delectable.

  Grabbing a rolling pin, I got to work flattening the dough. It felt therapeutic, like shooting arrows into a target over straw.

  I pressed shapes into the
smooth dough, cutting out squirrels and acorns, which I transferred carefully onto a lightly greased tray then set in the brick oven.

  While the first batch baked, I gathered the dough into one glob to roll back out, but not before pinching a section off and sinking my teeth into the doughy sweetness. If joy had a taste, this would be it.

  “Well, little one, I think it’s safe to say you’ll be made of sugar and spice and everything nice.” I patted my belly then rolled out the dough, inhaling the scent of the baking cookies.

  I grabbed the acorn cookie cutter, pressing it into the dough when Fhaornik rushed in, out of breath.

  “My lady,” he gasped.

  My heart sped up. Fhaornik never hurried, but now it appeared he’d raced back to the kitchen.

  “Is Jhaeros all right? Is it my sister?” I demanded, growing more frantic with each passing second. All the tasty goodness that had been lingering on my tongue turned bitter and rancid in my stomach.

  “You have a caller. Your Fae brother-in-law, my lady. Liri.”

  Instinctively, I reached for the rolling pin.

  “Where is Liri now?”

  “In the foyer with Mr. Keasandoral.”

  “Jhaeros is with him?”

  Fhaornik nodded.

  I didn’t trust Jhaeros and Liri alone together.

  But my cookies still needed more time to bake.

  I glanced at Fhaornik, who shook with agitation. I couldn’t ask the blind butler to stay and remove the tray. He could end up burning himself.

  Pitberries! I ground my teeth together and set down the rolling pin. As tempting as it was to smack Liri over the head and throw him in the oven, I needed something that could pierce through flesh if needed.

  I refused to return to Faerie. What was he doing here anyway? I’d expected Ella’s glamour to last longer than this.

  “Let Jhaeros know I’m on my way.”

  Fhaornik nodded and scurried out. Frowning deeply, I put on oven mitts, pulled the tray of cookies out, and set them atop a wood block on the counter. I gave the half-cooked squirrels and acorns one forlorn look before pulling off the mitts and tossing them upon a stool with a growl.