“But how is that possible?” I asked quietly.
“I can’t explain how you were made,” she admitted. “I only know I played my part in bringing you into the world.”
“My mother was the Vilken Queen, a direct descendant of the Demon Prince,” I pointed out. “My light features are the proof the Vilken people have waited for, proof of the royal Noge blood in the Vilken line,” I added.
“Your light features prove nothing of the sort. Queen Marania only carried you. She was not your blood mother,” M’Tek insisted.
“That’s not possible,” I said quietly. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t be stubborn, Lore. I know you recognize the veracity of my words. Be honest. You know I’m speaking the truth,” she said softly.
What she said made all of the pieces fall into place, as if her explanation were the missing lens in the kaleidoscope of events in my life leading to that point. I was Noge. It had to be acknowledged. Deep in my bones I felt it. I’d never been able to pass as a Vilkerling, whether as a peasant or their Queen. All those years ago Aunt Kessa had called me a changeling. I’d known then she was right. And she had never warmed to me, always seeing me as strange, never finding her beloved Queen Marania in me, as hard as she searched, as much as she wanted that glimmer of recognition. Uncle Toblin was never completely comfortable with me, always skeptical of my instincts, continually trying to curb me, to control my intellect. I had never been what they expected. Constantly throughout my childhood, I’d baffled them with my alien mind. They had only kept me alive because of the potential power I offered. From the start of my reign they’d been carving out small pieces of that cherished power for themselves.
M’Tek was the first person who had not found me strange, probably because she was the only one who understood what I truly was. I turned my focus to her, catching the subtle smile forming on her lips as she watched awareness take root in me. For some reason it made me angry. I turned and left the center of the maze, winding my way back to the palace with Faira close at my heels.
I rushed up the stairs and retreated into my rooms, closing the door behind me. A few minutes later I heard M’Tek enter the hearth room. I wasn’t ready to hear any more. I undressed and slipped into a dressing gown, and then followed my private stairway down to my bathing chamber. I soaked in the hot mineral pool for a few hours, trying, and failing, to empty my mind of the turmoil I was feeling, to become again the Vilkerling I had been that morning.
I returned to my room late, not having left enough time to dress and prepare myself for dinner. I was hosting a powerful Vilken family that was on their way through Vilkerdam to the Western Noge Territory for trade. Suddenly, I had no interest in playing my role. I couldn’t stomach the idea of smiling and nodding at the appropriate times, and condoning what I already viewed as the pilfering of natural resources that rightfully belonged to my Noge subjects.
As my mind was reeling through all of this conflict, I heard a quiet tap at the inner door to my bed chamber. M’Tek was at the end of her patience with me, I guessed, and had refused to wait any longer for me to come to my senses.
“Come in, M’Tek,” I called to her, without moving from the place I sat in front of my dressing table.
Slowly, the door to my bedchamber opened. She stood there, wearing a beautiful, delicate, formal gown of shimmering yellow. Her eyes caught the dim light of the candle on my dressing table, and I acknowledged to myself that I found her truly beautiful.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” she offered in a tone of contrition. “But it’s time to go down to the banquet,” she added. “I thought it best to arrive after you, but…”
“I’m not going down,” I said, weariness coloring my voice.
“Lore,” she said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you,” she admitted. “I was selfish.” I laughed.
“Regardless of your motives, you spoke the truth,” I replied. “It explains a lot. For example, now I understand why Aunt Kessa could never truly love me.”
“Of course Dame Kessa loves you,” M’Tek replied, trying to reassure me. For the first time, I knew her words were false. From her expression, I judged that she knew this as well. “How could anyone not love you, Lore?” she asked in a gentle tone.
“My mother loved me,” I said, in an attempt to find some foothold. “That much I know. She died protecting me,” I said. “Did she know I was a changeling?” I asked, watching as M’Tek flinched slightly at the word.
“Your mother knew your birth was not natural,” M’Tek replied. “She tried for years to become pregnant before she carried you. Finally, she asked for help from a sorceress named Sim’Nu. You were your mother’s greatest happiness.” I stared at my face in the mirror, Sarane’s face I now realized.
“So, you loved Sarane so much you found a way to bring her back,” I observed. “Is that who I am? Am I Sarane?” I asked. M’Tek shook her head.
“No, of course not, Lore. She’s long dead, no more than dust,” M’Tek said quietly. “You’re her sister, or more precisely, her twin,” she added as an afterthought.
“Well, twins can be very dissimilar,” I replied, lightening. “I knew two boys who looked exactly alike,” I volunteered. “Maaken and Toreen were their names. They were twins, but one, Toreen, was nervous around horses. Maaken was my good friend. He was born to ride. He wanted to be a horse master.” I felt easier, and suddenly less oppressed by Sarane. I smiled at M’Tek and watched as some of the tension melted from her shoulders.
“Should I wait for you in the hearth room?” she asked after a moment. I shook my head.
“No. I’m running late. Help me dress, if you don’t mind,” I suggested.
M’Tek moved through my bedchamber quickly, gathering the different components of traditional Vilken clothing that would conceal my incongruity. She then helped me balance as I shimmied into them. My still damp hair she tied back, in a strange knot. After gathering a couple of flowers from the vase next to my bed, she wove them through my hair with nimble fingers. Within minutes I was dressed, though I looked strange to my own eyes. I didn’t have time to consider it, as I hurried toward the banquet hall with M’Tek at my side, only a few minutes late.
****
I signed the treaty the next day, agreeing to M’Tek’s more than generous terms. As for my council, I cared very little for their objections by that point. Their blustering was only half-hearted, I realized, as they were in reality overjoyed with the gain in border territory.
With our work completed, M’Tek began making plans to return to Faeland. The only good thing about this was that most of her time was mine during her remaining days in Vilkerland. We rode deep into the woods together, and spent hours combing through my library. I watched as her eyes lit with delight at each new discovery of long forgotten tomes, hidden away in secret compartments, all books on the Noge, and Fae peoples. She read aloud to me from distorted histories, all the while scoffing at the inaccuracies recorded of times she had actually lived through, and battles she’d fought.
Often she laughed out loud at the grotesque descriptions Vilken historians had drawn of her, frequently referring to her as a witch or a hag, and embellishing her features in a truly unflattering way. Her elegant, longish, nose was described as hooked, and covered in warts, her eyes were transformed into terrifying beacons of white light that burned through flesh, and blinded those who looked upon her. Her brilliant white hair was described as the substance of spider silk, and a bizarre weapon she used to trap valiant Vilken warriors, by some accounts.
On the final morning, before she was to leave, I had breakfast brought to the hearth room early. We ate together, and laughed about the stiff behavior of the councilmen and household staff toward M’Tek and her guards at the farewell banquet the evening prior. She then promised to send a few books to fill in the enormous gaps in my understanding of history. After I thanked her I fell silent.
“We won’t be apart forever,”
she finally said, observing my quietly sullen mood.
“I’ll miss you more than you can imagine,” I admitted. “I know you’re ready to get as far away from this palace as possible.”
“That’s not true,” she said, her tone gentle. “I’d stay here with you forever if it were possible,” she replied in a wistful tone, setting my heart racing.
“But why isn’t it possible, M’Tek?” I asked, smiling again as a result of her admission. “The two of us rule this world. Why can’t we do as we please?”
“Because, you have work, and so do I. And you have to start looking for a consort. I would hinder that, I’m afraid,” she added.
“What?” I asked, surprised. “Why?”
“My cousin will help you. I’ve instructed her on the importance of choosing a consort in order to secure your throne,” M’Tek assured me quickly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand briefly. “She’ll organize a season,” M’Tek added. “She has a talent for such tasks. And, she’s checking into all of the young people of high birth, both Noge and Vilken, to invite here, so you won’t be so much alone.”
“I don’t want young nobles about my palace. And I don’t want a consort,” I said sharply. “You never took one. Why should I?” M’Tek smiled.
“I think that’s a conversation for another day, Lore,” was her answer.
“You think I’m incapable of ruling on my own? Why? Do you see me as weak?” I asked.
“I think you’ll want a family, and children,” was her answer. “And you need an heir,” she added.
“You don’t need an heir, because you’re never going to die,” I guessed aloud.
“No. I’ll die, Lore, and sooner than anyone expects,” she replied. “I’ve been diminishing for over two hundred years. I’m not certain how much longer we can keep this sickness at bay.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, suddenly worried. “You’re not sick.”
“Of course I am. I assumed you already knew. Has Pet not told you?” I shook my head, and M’Tek diverted her gaze from my face. “The sorceress I told you about, the one who helped bring you into this world, her name is Sim’Nu. She helps me fight the disease,” M’Tek explained, glancing first out of the window, and then at the fruit still on her plate, anywhere but at me. “My people know I contracted the Diminishing Sickness, but I’ve fought it so long they think it will never kill me. Every year it gets harder for Sim’Nu to keep it in check. I only needed treatments every twenty years in the beginning, for the past few years I’ve sought her out every ten months. This time it’s only been eight months, but I can feel it gaining hold.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my heart beating harder in my chest.
“I’m telling you now,” she said gently, finally meeting my eyes again. “I want you to be prepared. You’re the center of every plan I’ve made. I want to leave my realm with the promise of peace. I think I have a few years left, but…”
“Pet knows and didn’t tell me,” I observed.
“She probably thought it unnecessary. Everyone that looks at me knows I’m sick,” she replied. “Why do you think my hair is white?” I shook my head.
“It simply is. I never considered why?” I said quietly.
There was a knock at the hearth room door. I was too stunned to note it, but M’Tek stood and walked over to open the door. A few members of her guard stood there. I heard M’Tek speaking to them in Fae, and then leading them back to her rooms. A few moments later her trunks were being carried away. When she closed the door after them I stood and faced her.
“M’Tek, I don’t want you to leave,” I said. “Especially now.” M’Tek watched me as I walked across the room to her. Her gaze traveled over me, stopping at my lips. That was when I realized what I intended to do, and what she wanted me to do. I wrapped my arms around her, crushing her against me. “I can’t stand it,” I whispered next to her ear. She pulled back to look me in the eye.
“It’s all right,” she assured me, just before I pressed my lips to hers.
She moaned softly into my mouth, and my hands moved across her shoulders. She guided me back against the hearth room door, as she broke the contact of our mouths. Her lips skimmed along my jaw, and down my neck as heat surged through my groin and abdomen. I needed to touch her skin, and managed to ease my hand beneath her tunic. I ran my fingertips across the soft skin at the base of her spine before finding her mouth again, but only for a moment as she eased her lips from mine. She kissed a trail to my ear.
“I have to go, my sweet girl,” she whispered next to my ear. “It’s time.”
“Stay with me, just one more day,” I said, softly pleading with her. “You can’t leave me this way.”
She stood on her toes to place a gentle kiss on my forehead, and then the tip of my nose, before gathering me close again. I sighed as her arms tightened around me and I noticed the faint citrus scent of her skin. I trailed my lips along her neck, needing to taste her skin.
“It’s all right if you don’t want to see me off,” she said, gently stepping back from me. “Actually, it might be easier for both of us if you didn’t.”
“You’re really leaving me then?” I asked, dazed. “I thought I’d convinced you.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied. “I’ll send an invitation for you. Come for the Fae season,” she said. “I haven’t attended for almost ten years. It will be an event if the both of us are there together.” I captured her lips again, desperate to change her mind about leaving. She kissed me deeply, making my knees turn soft under me, as her hands eased along my hips. I was breathing hard when she drew back from me. “Will you come to spend the winter with me?” she asked.
“Yes. Anything,” I promised. M’Tek laughed softly and stepped away from me.
“Good. Now, I’m leaving while I still can,” she said, her hands shifting to my shoulders as she gently eased me away from the door.
“Wait,” I replied. “I’ll see you off.”
-CH 6-
After M’Tek and her guard left, my life shifted back to those routines that had become the structure of my existence. I had council meetings, and went for rides. I trained with the combat arts master for hours every day, doing my best to ease this craving growing inside of me. In the afternoons I walked with Pet. We talked about politics and the Vilken and Noge families she was planning to have me invite to the palace. Mostly, I was passing time, and waiting. I wanted a letter from M’Tek, but so far had heard nothing from her. I’d written her twice, but received no response, not even the courtesy of an acknowledgement when I asked after her return trip. Even the promised invitation to the upcoming season in Faeland was yet to arrive. Finally, in the middle of a discussion about how to begin a season in Vilkerland, and whether or not there actually were any Vilken traditional dances, I lost my patience.
“Why did M’Tek never take a consort?” I asked without warning. Pet stared at me for a moment before she shook her head.
“You’d have to ask her?” she replied in a guarded tone.
“I can’t. In case you haven’t noticed, your cousin isn’t here, and she never writes to me anymore. She won’t even respond, in that cold way she has, to my letters,” I replied. “So, why don’t you tell me what you know?”
“Why do my cousin’s choices matter to you?” Pet asked. “She’s the Fae Queen. Her life is her own, and not ours to meddle in.”
“My personal life is something you meddle with constantly?” I snapped. Pet’s gaze hardened as she watched me. “One of the last subjects M’Tek and I discussed was her belief that I need to settle on a consort soon,” I replied. “We were not in agreement.”
“My cousin and I discussed this,” Pet admitted. “You must produce an heir, and quickly, if you are to stabilize your throne. You won’t hold Vilkerland, and the Western Noge Territory without doing this. It’s simply a fact, and not something that pleases me personally. Don’t channel your anger over this at me, Lore. I’d prefer circ
umstances were different, that you were at leisure to fall in love, and be courted by someone worthy of you, rather than some vile Vilken man, but we all must face reality.”
“M’Tek never produced an heir,” I argued. “She’s very powerful, and…”
“My cousin is Fae Lemu, but even so, there’s a succession in place,” Pet interrupted. “One that is updated every generation, as her heirs die.”
“I could name a successor,” I said. Pet nodded.
“Who would you name, Lore? Your only assumed relatives killed those you called parents and tried to kill you,” she pointed out with her clipped Fae accent that made every word more pointed. While what she said was true, I preferred not thinking about it.
“You’re M’Tek’s cousin,” I said instead of answering her. “Are you in the succession?” Pet seemed to grow an inch before my eyes, her slight frame appearing more imposing as she smiled with obvious pride.
“I’m the Grand Duchess of Tannuk. I’ve been at the top of the succession since my birth,” she explained. “It means nothing, though. You must know. My cousin will outlive us all.”
“Even though she’s sick?” I countered.
“Yes. She’s been sick for more than two centuries. When every other Fae Lemu died in agony, our Fae Queen persisted. My cousin is stronger even than that plague,” Pet said with certainty and satisfaction. “There will be no new ruler of Faeland during our lifetimes, or even our children’s,” she added conclusively. “We will grow old and wither, but she will remain beautiful, and powerful, for eternity. The Fae are truly a fortunate people.”
“You really believe she’ll be all right?” I asked, appreciating the certainty Pet felt on the subject.
“She’ll outlive the mountains and the seas, Lore,” was her answer. “I’ve lived twenty-three years, and with my royal Fae blood, should live another hundred at the very least, but I’ve no doubt she’ll stand beside my cremation pyre, speaking words of condolence.” I nodded, gratefully accepting the reassurance Pet offered.
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