Franco lets out an amused chuckle. “No, I don’t drink blood. I’m a psy vampire, not a sanguine.”
I can’t tell whether I’m more relieved at the truth or annoyed at his teasing. My eyes flash to his teeth again. “Then why do you have elongated canines?”
“Can you think of no other reason to have such a feature aside from drinking blood? What do other creatures use them for?”
I refuse to answer.
“To spear their prey, of course. I may not drink blood, but I’m not above a good hunt.”
This time, I can’t help but cover my neck, resting my hand over my collarbone. “And what exactly do you hunt, Prince Franco?”
He leans closer and winks. “Beautiful human-fae hybrids like you, of course. But only if I want them badly enough.” He straightens and offers me his arm. “Now that that’s settled between us, will you allow me to show you the beauty of the palace at night?”
I take a step away from his leering stare, arms crossing tighter over my chest. “You just named me your prey. Whether it was in jest or truth, I have no desire to be alone with you.”
“I only named you my prey if I were to want you badly enough.”
I burn him with a scowl. “And just how badly do you want to eat me, Your Highness?”
His lids grow heavy, eyes falling to my lips. “How badly do I want to eat you? Now that is a loaded question.”
My heart hammers in my chest. I whirl toward my door. “I’m going back to sleep. I prefer my nightmares to this.”
He intercepts me before I can reach my door, expression jovial. “I’m joking, Miss Fairfield. I’m not going to eat you. Unless you ask me nicely and we aren’t talking about dinner at all. In that case...”
“Can you be serious for once?”
He gives me a mock bow. “My apologies. I admit, I enjoy getting a rise out of you, testing your response to fear and flirtation. I like the taste of the energy you emit. Most of it tastes like fire.”
“What is it with aggressive males testing my resolve?” I mutter.
“It’s the Old Ways in us. Our instincts make us want to determine who’s alpha, who’s omega. It’s in our nature.”
“Well, it’s getting old.”
“Spoken like a woman who has clearly had much experience with the follies of aggressive males seeking her attention.”
My mind goes to Aspen, to the nightmare. To the kiss we shared. To Maddie Coleman taking my place. My heart clenches.
He offers me his arm again. “Let me give you an intermission from your worries. I promise I’ll be less of an ass. I’ll even show you Selene Palace’s finest feature.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t you dare say it’s your ass.”
His eyes widen as he gives me an approving grin. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself. We’re going to get along just fine.”
I let out a grumble before placing a hand at his elbow. My other hand seeks to pat my thigh until I remind myself my dagger is long gone. If only I’d been of sound-enough mind to steal one of the knives from Mr. Meeks’ laboratory.
As we move through the halls, we encounter more and more fae. Many are like the ones I first saw, sprites, wraiths, and specters in various shades and forms. Others appear more like Franco or Nyxia, and there are several nocturnal animals that scurry about the halls. Each fae bows to the prince as we pass.
I’ve been determined to say as little to the prince as possible, but my curiosity gets the better of me. “Why is the palace so busy right now? There was hardly a soul out and about earlier.”
“Selene Palace is the liveliest at night,” he explains. “This is the Lunar Court, you know. Most of our residents, servants, and guests are nocturnal.”
“And you?”
“I prefer a nocturnal lifestyle as well. In fact, I was sleeping soundly until a rather rude owl came hooting about two foreigners covered in blood traipsing through the woods. That’s when Nyxia sent me out to find you.”
We reach a staircase and continue up several flights in what seems to be a wide spiral. When the summit is in sight, cool night air greets us. The staircase ends at a circular balcony that rings an enormous glass dome. The night sky opens overhead, speckled with countless stars in such unfathomable quantity I’ve never witnessed from any other viewpoint.
Franco points at the bubble of glass before us. “That’s the roof of the throne room. And this,” he pulls me forward until we reach a platform that juts out from the balcony, “is the observatory.”
My mouth falls open, hand slipping from Prince Franco’s elbow. Upon the platform stand several telescopes in varying sizes and designs. “Are these for viewing the moon?”
He approaches the largest telescope, a hulking device constructed of gold and crystal. “This one is for viewing the moon. And other planets, of course. You’ll find only one telescope to rival it in Faerwyvae, and it belongs to the Star Court. Come see what it has to offer.”
My intellectual hunger is too ravenous to do anything but obey. Prince Franco adjusts the dials on the telescope, then extends his hand for me to take a look. I place my eye to the viewing glass, which reveals the waxing moon in such detail that I’ve never seen. The sight makes my throat feel tight, awed over the beauty and terror of seeing such a fixture of the night sky as if I were floating before it. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’ll have to see it again in a few days when it’s full.”
It’s almost painful to force myself away from the sight. “What do the others show?”
“Whatever its previous user was looking for. Go ahead and see.”
I move from telescope to telescope, greeting different planets, stars, and nebulae. I haven’t felt this happy and alive since...since...well, probably since the night in the cave with Aspen.
The thought dampens my joy, and I pull away from the final telescope. With a sigh, I walk to the edge of the platform and look out at the landscape around the palace. I wasn’t in the best state to care about my surroundings when we first arrived, so I can hardly recall what it looked like during the day. But the moon illuminates plenty for me to see, revealing lush meadows, towering trees, glittering lakes and streams. To my right, I see a marsh upon which tiny blue lights glow.
Franco comes up beside me, shoulder brushing mine as he follows my line of vision. “Wisps,” he says. “They used to live more often in the Fire Court, but they’ve taken a liking to Lunar. However, don’t rely on them to guide you if ever you are lost at night. They like to cause more mischief than good, although they aren’t harmful.”
The heat of his body next to mine is an unexpected distraction, sending my pulse racing just the slightest bit faster, but I do my best to ignore it. Instead, I squint deeper at the blue lights. “Wisps? But I’ve seen this phenomenon back in Eisleigh. Are the lights not a result of combustible marsh gases?”
“Perhaps where you’re from. I assure you the wisps are more than a trick of light and gas.”
I leave Franco’s side to reach for one of the smaller telescopes and swivel it until I have the marsh in sight. I adjust the dials until the blue lights come into focus. To my surprise, the light has some semblance of form—swaying arms and legs, a hint of eyes and mouth. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I can’t help it. Now I wonder if the strange blue lights I saw in Eisleigh had been fae after all. “You say they used to live in the Fire Court?”
“Wisps are related to fire sprites, making the Fire Court a decent home. However, they are nocturnal. In Lunar, all night-dwelling fae are welcome, as well as lovers of the moon. We are also home to many fae who are shunned by other courts, especially the unsightly or ghoulish varieties. They feel safer here beneath the cover of night.”
I shudder. “You mean like banshees and harpies?”
“Banshees, harpies, lycanthropes,” he flashes me a toothy grin, “and vampires.”
“Aren’t they dangerous?”
“About as dangerous as I am. Or you.”
“I’m not...” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence, knowing it would be a lie. I may not be as dangerous as the fae male before me or the monstrous creatures that lurk in the dark, but I killed a man and burnt his laboratory to a crisp.
“Look!” Franco points over my shoulder, a welcome diversion from my thoughts. “The kitsune are gathering at the Wishing Tree.”
I turn around and seek where he’s pointing. All I find is an enormous willow tree with flickering orange lights beneath it. Again, I reach for the telescope and bring the tree into focus. My heart leaps at the sight. Dozens of lithe, white foxes gather around the trunk of the tree, balls of flame hovering at their mouths or tails. They appear to be speaking with one another, but I can’t hear a word from here.
“Another type of fae that once held their allegiance to the Fire Court,” Franco says. “Most kitsune choose Lunar as their home these days. Actually, thousands of unseelie fae have migrated from Fire to other courts as King Ustrin grows less and less patient with them. Not when his radical seelie ways keep him in such good standing with the council.”
“King Ustrin is radical seelie?” I remember his orange, scaly skin, his slitted nostrils, and forked tongue. “I would have thought King Ustrin was unseelie based on his appearance. He seemed more lizard than anything.”
“The fire lizard has always been a powerful type of fae in the Fire Court. Retaining similar features when in seelie form is another way to show his power. It doesn’t impact his political affiliation, however.”
A shadow falls over us, and I find my attention drawn to the sky where a black silhouette passes over the glittering stars.
“A moon dragon,” Prince Franco says. “Yet another type of fae that fled Fire to live in Lunar. Many of the fire lizard’s draconian cousins have moved to other courts.” He lowers his voice. “Rest assured, you are far from being the only one who isn’t a fan of King Ustrin.”
I tense. “The more accurate statement is that he isn’t a fan of me. I couldn’t care less about him.”
“Even though he’s responsible for orchestrating the charges against your mother?”
My head whips toward him. “You know about that?”
He nods. “My sister filled me in on the details Lorelei shared.”
A question rises to my mind, another that requires much decorum. “Is your mother the same as Nyxia’s?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Do you know much about Queen Nessina’s involvement with the war? Were you alive back then?”
He shakes his head. “Nyxia and I were born centuries after the war ended and Mother didn’t tell us much.”
That might mean he knows nothing about his mother harboring my grandmother. Did Lorelei share that part with Nyxia? With Franco? I don’t want to ask directly, in case the secret isn’t safe with him. “Where is your mother now?”
“She is no longer with us.”
“She died?”
“Not in the way you’re imagining,” he says. “Fae rulers tend to remain at court until they pass the throne to the next in line. For most unseelie, that means when an heir proves their worth as alpha. It didn’t take long for my sister to demonstrate her alpha status after she reached maturity, and I didn’t dare challenge her. She’s the strongest alpha the Lunar Court has seen in generations. Anyhow, after my sister became the new queen, Mother left court and sort of...reverted to the Old Ways entirely.”
“You mean she took her unseelie form indefinitely?”
He nods. “It is our way.”
My eyes meet Franco’s, and I find myself fascinated by his words. Everything he’s said about the lunar fae, the unseelie, the Old Ways—it’s intriguing. He’s intriguing, when he isn’t being annoying. That alone is worth my awe. Even a day ago, I would have thought befriending an unseelie fae was out of the question. Now, here I am genuinely enjoying my time with an unseelie prince.
A flash of guilt seizes my chest, and I avert my gaze.
A pair of light footsteps approach from the balcony, and Nyxia comes into view. “I thought I might find you here, Miss Fairfield.” She offers me a grin before her gaze moves to her brother. “Thank you for showing our lovely guest such kind hospitality.”
“It was my pleasure,” he says, adding a wink for me.
“I have no doubt about that. May I ask for my turn to speak with her?”
Prince Franco nods, then takes my hand in his. Before I can react, he pulls the back of my hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss over my skin. “I do hope we can speak again soon.” With that, he shudders and shifts into a raven, taking off into the night sky. I follow his silhouette until it’s out of sight. Only then do I force my gaze to return to Nyxia.
Alone with the most powerful lunar alpha in generations, I suppress a shudder.
17
Nyxia approaches me with slow, confident steps. She’s changed out of the elaborate outfit she wore earlier and now has on a pair of black silk slacks and a matching tunic. “Let’s take a stroll,” she says.
Falling into step beside her, we walk the circular balcony ringing the perimeter of the dome. I force my breathing to remain even, natural.
“My brother seems quite taken with you,” the Lunar Queen says.
I let out a bark of laughter before I can stop myself. “We’ve hardly spoken.”
“I think you’ve learned by now that the fae know what they want quite quickly.”
I press my lips tight, refusing to follow the train of thought that I know will lead me to Aspen. To the gaping wound left in his absence.
“Regardless,” Nyxia says, “he wouldn’t be a terrible mate to make an alliance with.”
My head swivels toward her. “What are you implying?”
“I’m implying that I understand the precarious position you are in. You’re considered a criminal by the humans and would be used as a bargaining chip by many of the fae, if given the chance. Unless you can secure your position in Faerwyvae, you’ll be exiled to a slow death on the mainland.”
I stop in my tracks. “I’m not staying in Faerwyvae. That would be treason. It would break the treaty.”
Nyxia halts, then slowly spins on her heel to meet my gaze with a delighted grin. “Then let’s break it.”
“That will bring war.”
She shrugs a delicate shoulder. “I guess we should try to win it then.”
I shake my head and continue walking, quickening my steps as if I can outpace her treasonous suggestion. “That’s not why I came here. I came to seek refuge while I await my mother’s trial.”
She matches my hurried stride with little effort. “Yes, but there’s another option open to you. If you were my brother’s mate, you’d be Lunar royalty. You’d have a shot at earning enough respect to take the throne that is rightfully yours.”
I round on her. “The Fire Court isn’t rightfully mine. My ancestor was exiled. The treaty states his descendants cannot live in Faerwyvae ever again.”
This time, she’s the one who walks ahead, and I’m forced to race after her. “The treaty was made with human rules. King Ustrin likely never would have become king according to the Old Ways. As cousin to the exiled King Caleos, Ustrin claimed the throne based on human traditions of male bloodline succession, but he never proved himself the alpha blessed by the All of All.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, so she must be referring to some unseelie custom. “It doesn’t matter what King Ustrin did or didn’t do. A fae Legacy Bond keeps the treaty in place and forbids me from claiming the throne. A man named Henry Duveau will put a bounty on my head if I try to stay in Faerwyvae.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t you understand? If the treaty is broken, so is the Legacy Bond. Besides, if this human wants to place a bounty on you, I’d like to see what great fool would try to claim it. A human bounty hunter will get himself killed before he so much as crosses the axis line. And no fae would turn on you if you were a respected leader.”
“Oh, you mean like when Cobalt stole King Aspen’s throne?”
She shrugs. “King Aspen was challenged and came out the victor. With your help, of course. Your success in the Twelfth Court is exactly what makes me think you have what it takes to claim the Fire Court throne according to the Old Ways.”
Her words send my heart racing, both from the fear and excitement they generate within me. There’s a part of me that rises to meet her words with a spark of hope, igniting a fire of indignation against those who would stand against me. I hate it. I hate the part of me that wants her to say more.
She continues. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t like King Ustrin or any of the radical seelie. I don’t like the Council of Eleven Courts or how much they seek control over the unseelie. The very name of the council is blasphemy against the Old Ways. You cannot be fae and disregard the Twelfth Court. I’ll support any effort that puts an unseelie queen on the Fire Court throne.”
My mouth falls open. “Unseelie,” I say with a gasp. “What makes you think I’d be unseelie?”
She seems unperturbed by the bite in my tone. “You’d have to be unseelie to go against the treaty. I suppose you could call yourself seelie, but it comes down to this: you don’t want to be controlled. You don’t want your true nature suppressed or for your freedoms to be taken away. That’s what being unseelie means.”
Again, that secret part of me stirs and rises. It wants to shout in agreement, to wail a battle cry and fight for what is mine. No. Not mine. Nothing in Faerwyvae is mine. “You know nothing about what I want,” I say through my teeth.
Her voice takes on a soothing, ethereal quality. “I know your dreams. Your fears. I can see them even when you’re awake. They float around you like specters.”
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “This conversation is pointless. I will not break the treaty nor will I stay in Faerwyvae. I’m going to my mother’s trial, and there I will face my fate.”
“You will choose death.”
“I will choose my mother. I will not abandon her. If I do, she will be executed.”
To Wear a Fae Crown (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 2) Page 12
