To Wear a Fae Crown (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 2)

by Tessonja Odette

  The guard Aspen left to watch me clears his throat and faces me. “King Aspen wouldn’t want you to meet with her without him present. He wouldn’t deem it safe.”

  “Then you better see that no harm comes to me.” I turn to face the fae female. “Take me to Queen Melusine. I want to know what she’s up to.”

  It might not be the smartest move, but Melusine could know something about today’s attack. She may have information about Cobalt, about Amelie, about the letter and the treaty—no, I’m getting ahead of myself. If she knows anything at all, she’ll hide it behind a web of deception and weave it to her advantage. I should harbor no false hopes regarding her whatsoever.

  I inhale a heavy breath to steady my racing thoughts and follow the guards to the beach. With the caves beneath the palace closed off, we take the long way down, skirting around the palace to a steep staircase cut into the cliff wall. When we reach the bottom, I find my unwelcome guest. Like the first time I spoke alone with the Sea Queen, Melusine perches on the shore, chin held high with a confident smirk. This time, however, she’s surrounded by a circle of Aspen’s guards. Luckily, she appears to be alone. Her beauty is as prominent as ever, with her dazzling stormy eyes, coral-red lips, and her long, indigo hair that flows in waves over her bare human-like upper body. Her blue-green serpent’s tail props her up from her waist to where human feet should be, while the rest of her tail undulates behind her in anxious ripples across the sand.

  “My, my, don’t you look dreadful,” she says in her melodic voice before flashing her sharp teeth in a semblance of a smile. My two guards flank me as I stop several feet away from her. Only now do I consider my state of dress. Foxglove and Lorelei always had me primped and preened with the utmost care before meeting with the queen. Now I come to her wearing a bloodstained robe and hair still mussed from sleep.

  I narrow my eyes as if my appearance is the least of my concerns. That much, at least, is true. There are far more pressing matters at hand. “Why are you here, Your Majesty?”

  “I wanted to know what my dear son was doing to my beautiful caves,” she says with a pout.

  “Your son doesn’t want to speak with you.” I hope she can’t sense the omission in my voice—that my words obscure the fact that Aspen isn’t currently here. That is, if she doesn’t already know as much.

  “It’s clear he doesn’t want to speak with me. I’ve tried making contact every day since the incident with his brother.”

  The incident. I bristle. That’s a mild way to refer to Cobalt’s attempt to steal Aspen’s throne. “So, you decided to speak with me instead?”

  She shrugs a bare shoulder. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  I hate that she’s right. Aspen had the sense to ignore her, yet here I am giving in at her first request. My curiosity always does get the better of me. “Cut the iron-laced kelpie crap and get to the point,” I say with a sweet smile. “Why are you really here?”

  She rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. “I want you to speak to Aspen for me.”

  “And tell him what?”

  “Tell him I want to form an alliance.”

  My mouth hangs on its hinge before I can speak. “An alliance? Isn’t that what the council is for? Weren’t you already supposed to be his ally when you sought to replace him with Cobalt?”

  Her cheeks redden, lips pressing into a tight line, looking flustered for the first time. “I was wrong. I never should have supported Cobalt’s claim.”

  I let out a bitter laugh. “Why, because he turned on you? Lied? Because you realized he was never going to be your unseelie puppet?”

  “Cobalt stole lies from a human and turned them on me,” she hisses through her teeth. “That is unforgivable. More than that, I respect the decision of the All of All, which he did not and will not abide by. The All of All should not be questioned. The unseelie know this in our blood.”

  “I’m sure Aspen will appreciate your acceptance of the All of All’s verdict,” I say without warmth. “Why do you seek an additional alliance?”

  Again, she purses her lips as if her next words pain her to say. “I seek his protection.”

  “His protection? From what?”

  “From my other son.” Each word is punctuated with her growing rage. “He’s all but taken over my court. Half my soldiers think they serve him, and that wretched human pet of his struts around in her selkie skin like she’s the Queen of the Sea.”

  I narrow my eyes. “That wretched human is my sister.”

  She meets my gaze with a glower. “Then you know just how wretched she is.”

  My nails dig into my palms, irritation growing hotter inside me. “Melusine, you’re one of the most powerful fae alive. You have the entire sea at your beck and call. What protection do you need from Aspen that you can’t provide yourself?”

  “I can’t defend myself against my son when he can meet my powers underwater. I need somewhere on land to stay until he can be dealt with.” Her shoulders tremble visibly.

  I’m caught off guard by how truly shaken she seems. How can Queen Melusine fear Cobalt, her own son? He may have power over the water element, but he can’t be anywhere near as fearsome as she is. Right?

  As if she can sense my question, she adds, “I can’t trust Cobalt now that he’s ceased to be bound by fae rules. He can lie like a human and betray his allies without so much as blinking. Now that he’s won over so many of my soldiers, I don’t know what he’s going to do next. I’d rather not wait around and find out.”

  My heart sinks. Unless she too has stolen the power to lie, she’s serious.

  She slithers closer, but Aspen’s guards stop her from closing the distance between us. With a grumble, she says, “Speak to Aspen on my behalf. Please.”

  “You’ve already told him all this yourself?”

  “He won’t listen.”

  “What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

  Her expression hardens. “You hold sway over him like no one ever has before.”

  Is she referring to my ability to use his name...or something else? She must know I’d never use Aspen’s name on her behalf. It was hard enough using it to save his life. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “No.”

  Her lips pull into a smirk that looks close to admiration, then she nods in a semblance of a bow. “Very well.” With that, she faces the ocean and slithers toward it. The guards maintain a tight circle around her, careful not to stumble over the shards of coral littering the beach. I don’t take my eyes off the queen until the last flick of her tail glides beneath the water.

  When I return to the palace, there’s still no word on Aspen’s current status. My heart races as I consider the myriad of concerns plaguing me—the skirmish Aspen’s involved in, Melusine’s fear of Cobalt, the letter. The letter. My stomach turns every time I think about it. I wish he’d left it for me to read. I need to know what it says, what it means, why the treaty has been broken, why our pairing has been invalidated. I need to pull it apart and analyze every sentence, every word, every loop and curve of the pen that wrote it to understand it. I must know...what does it mean for me and Aspen?

  With nothing to do but wait for Aspen’s return, I make my way to his bedroom to change out of my bloody clothes. Behind the dressing screen, I exchange my ruined nightdress and robe for a gauzy blue gown with a multi-layered, flowing skirt. When I come out from behind the screen, Lorelei enters the room. Her smile is warm as she approaches me, a shimmering swath of opalescent silk hanging over her brown arm, her petite frame swaying with every step.

  “I was told you’d returned from surgery,” the wood nymph says. “Did everything go all right?”

  “It went well,” I say, although I can’t bring myself to feign a grin. “The patients are recovering.”

  She furrows her brow, clearly reading into my lack of enthusiasm. Still, she doesn’t pry and holds out the luxurious fabric instead. “Your wedding gown is ready for i
ts final fitting.”

  My eyes lock on the dress, and a shock of pain sears my heart. My emotions threaten to overwhelm me, but I force them down, force my voice to remain level as I say, “I don’t know if there’s going to be a wedding, Lorelei.”

  She lays the dress over the arm of the nearby couch and takes me by the shoulders. “Why would you say that? Did something happen between you and Aspen?”

  I open my mouth and snap it shut. “I...I don’t know.”

  “Whatever he said or did, you’ll get through it. You know he loves you, right?”

  That word—love—unravels me. Tears spring to my eyes, a sob building in my chest. “No, I don’t know and I might never know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers clenching into fists as I swallow my tears and let anger replace my pain. “I’m so tired,” I say through my teeth.

  She takes a step away. “Then I’ll leave you to rest—”

  “I’m tired of living in fear of this treaty.”

  I open my eyes to find her nibbling her bottom lip, expression brimming with concern. “It’s been hard, I know.”

  “It’s been more than hard,” I say, my anger growing, burning the anxiety from my mind, the sorrow that tugs at my heart. “We’ve done everything we were supposed to. We had the mate ceremony. We performed the Bonding ritual by midnight on the required date. We won Aspen’s throne back from Cobalt. Our wedding is scheduled. Now we get a letter from Eisleigh’s council saying our pairing has been invalidated.”

  Her eyes bulge as she processes my words. “Invalidated? But that would mean...”

  I nod. “That would mean the treaty is broken. That we’re going to war.”

  She shakes her head. “No, there must be a misunderstanding. King Aspen will take care of it.” She takes my hand in hers. “You must believe he will.”

  I wish I could say I agree with her, but there’s only so much he can do. Besides, what if Aspen was right? What if the human council wants war? What if they fabricated this invalidation to give them what they wanted all along? “I feel like everything is working against me and Aspen. Maybe we aren’t meant to be together. Maybe there’s a reason things keep coming between us.”

  “Don’t say that. There’s a genuine connection between the two of you. I can sense it with more than just my eyes. Whatever comes, you and the king will face it together.”

  Her words manage to stabilize some of the rage and anxiety writhing within. Yet they don’t comfort me completely. There’s a much darker cloud hanging behind all of this—the possibility of war. If war comes to the Fair Isle, it won’t be as simple as facing the challenge at Aspen’s side. At least not for me. Not when my people—my mother included—will be suffering on the other side of the wall. They’ll be facing death and destruction because of a broken treaty my marriage was supposed to keep intact.

  Anger returns to me in a rush. “There must be something I can do to fix this.”

  “There might be.” Foxglove stands in my doorway, wringing his hands. “But you aren’t going to like it.”

  3

  I jump to my feet as Foxglove enters the room. “What do you mean I’m not going to like it? Where is Aspen? Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine,” Foxglove says. “The threat has been dealt with, and the king is uninjured.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. “Where is he now?”

  “He’s in his study, but that’s not why I came here. I came to talk to you myself. There are...things I think you have the right to know before you speak with the king.”

  “What does that mean? Is he hiding something from me?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, it’s just...” He sighs. “We should all sit down for this. Trust me.”

  I feel like my legs will give out as I lead us to the couch. I can’t bring myself to sit next to the silky wedding dress strewn over the arm, so I take a seat in the chair across from it. Lorelei and Foxglove lower onto the couch.

  Foxglove adjusts his spectacles, lips pulled into a grimace. “Oh, I just hate being the bearer of—”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Very well. As you know, the human council has sent a letter invalidating your pairing with King Aspen.”

  I nod, leaning forward in anticipation. “Did the letter say why?”

  He swallows hard. “My dear, might I ask you something? Are you of fae heritage?”

  I whip my head back in surprise. “No, of course not. I’m obviously human.”

  He raises a brow. “Is there not the slightest chance you could have fae blood?”

  I open my mouth, but too many arguments fight for dominance, making it impossible to utter a coherent word. Why would he ask me such a thing? There’s no way I could be...I could be...

  “I would know if I were,” I finally say.

  “Would you, though?” His face is full of apology.

  “Yes. How else would you explain my ability to touch iron? The fact that I don’t possess the sort of rapid healing the fae do? That rowan protects me from glamour?” My hand moves reflexively to my neck, seeking the feel of the red beads. I somehow managed not to lose this strand, even after being captured by Cobalt and journeying through the sea with the kelpie. However, it is by far the worse for wear, with fraying thread where beads have broken off, and haggard, lopsided berries. I can’t seem to bring myself to take it off, and it isn’t just because it protects me from being put under a glamour. It also reminds me of Mother. Amelie, too, for better or worse.

  “The differences between the fae and part-fae are not well known,” Foxglove says. “We’ve always assumed human-fae offspring had all the fae weaknesses and very little power. But when would they have had the need or opportunity to find out? I doubt any of the previous Chosen’s children have been tested with iron. For all we know, they could be exactly like you.”

  “But my—” I stop myself. My mother is human, I want to say. She would have told me if I wasn’t. Right?

  But she isn’t my only parent.

  I shake the thought from my head. “Why are you asking me this? What does it have to do with the letter?”

  “The human council is under the impression that you aren’t fully human. That you and your sister are part-fae. Since the treaty requires a pair of human girls be sent to Faerwyvae...”

  “Then a part-fae girl can’t validate the treaty,” I say under my breath, shoulders sagging. “But why do they think I’m part-fae to begin with?”

  “The letter says they have proof.”

  “What proof?”

  Foxglove shakes his head. “That they didn’t say. Can you think of any way it might be true?”

  I can hardly believe I’m entertaining this possibility, but I force myself to voice it. “My father, I suppose, but that’s highly unlikely. Mother never gave any indication that their relationship was unusual. She never said a cryptic word about him, always said he was a decent man.”

  Lorelei squints as if pondering. “You never knew him?”

  “I was still a baby when they separated.”

  “Where is he now?” Foxglove asks.

  I shrug. “Still on mainland Bretton, I assume. Mother said they parted ways because he wouldn’t move to Eisleigh with us. That’s what doesn’t make sense about this ridiculous suggestion. How could a fae, or part-fae, or whatever we’re hypothesizing my father was, sire me on the mainland? Isn’t being so far from Faerwyvae certain death for the fae?”

  I remember the story Cobalt had told me, about the exile of the Fire King at the end of the war. They sent him to the mainland to die as punishment for being the first to engage humans in organized violence. In return, the humans agreed to the tradition of the Hundred Year Reaping. The very thing that got me into this mess.

  “It is indeed death for fae to leave the Fair Isle,” Foxglove says, expression grave. “Even being on the human side of the wall creates a drain on our magic. Without that magic, our lengthy lifespans are forfeit.”


  “So, the exiled Fire King definitely died, then?” My stomach churns. I don’t want to admit the ludicrous train of thought that prompted the question.

  Foxglove nods. “The exiled king lived out a mortal lifespan after arriving on the mainland. Ambassadors were sent to confirm his death when he passed.”

  I let out a sigh. That removes one absurd possibility. “Have there been others? Any other fae who’ve been exiled this century?”

  Foxglove and Lorelei exchange a glance. “Not that anyone knows of,” Foxglove says. “And no fae would go to the mainland willingly.”

  “Then it makes no sense. Either their proof is false and the human council is fabricating this excuse to break the treaty, or there’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “I’m going to find out which of those possibilities is the case tonight,” Foxglove says. “King Aspen is sending me to meet with Sableton’s mayor and get to the bottom of this at once. If it is a simple misunderstanding, I’ll take care of it. I’ll offer whatever compensation they desire to make up for the error that led them to believe this. Then your wedding to the king will continue as planned.”

  Lorelei slowly turns to Foxglove. “What if it isn’t a misunderstanding? Or if there’s no way to dissuade them from believing their accusations?”

  “Then the treaty is broken,” I say, “and we go to war. Right?”

  The grimace returns to Foxglove’s lips, and he adjusts the bridge of his spectacles with trembling fingers. “Not necessarily.”

  His words should bring relief, but his expression is not one of hope. “What is it?”

  “This is the part—one of many, I should say—that you won’t like,” he says. “The human council offered the king one final option to secure the treaty. If their suspicions about you prove correct, he’ll have to accept two new Chosen and perform all three parts of the alliance at once. The mate ceremony, the ritual, and the human wedding. All of it. They’ve gone so far as to confirm the names of the potential new Chosen. Some Maddie and Marie Coleman. And the council insists Aspen be the one to marry, no minor cousin or other relative as has often been the practice during previous Reapings.”