by Amy Sumida
“Sweet stones save me from a mother's love,” Torin moaned.
“Be grateful you have it,” Declan said with a bittersweet tone. “Some of us have not known such for many years.”
“I'm sorry, Declan,” I said. “I hadn't thought to ask about your parents. Have they both passed away?”
“Yes, but the pain of losing them is long healed,” Declan said softly. “I thank you for your solicitude.”
“I don't know if I could ever heal if I lost my parents,” I said.
“Everything fades eventually,” Declan mused. “But you're right; the loss is never completely gone.”
“What exactly is your relationship with my king?” Ceana asked me, her gaze going back and forth between me and Declan.
“Now, Duchess,” Declan's tone changed to a warning, “you tread very personal waters.”
“It's my right to ask,” Ceana said loftily as she steered me further into the castle. “Elaria is my son's consort, and he has made it clear to me that theirs is a monogamous relationship. Unless that changes, your kingly rights have no bearing.”
We passed room after shimmering room, filled with beautiful Shining Ones, who stopped to stare at our procession. Our knights were bringing up the rear, and I'm sure we looked important; especially with Declan escorting us. Casual conversations dropped into speculative murmurs, and a few fairies even ventured out to peer down the hall after us.
Ceana paid them no mind, keeping her attention focused on me. “Well? What are your intentions toward my son?”
“My intentions”–I chuckled–“how 1950s-father of you. Alright, Duchess Ceana, because you are being so straightforward with the asking, I'll give you a straightforward answer.”
“Yes?” She cocked her head at me.
Behind us, the men were looming closer, listening intently.
“I don't fall in love easily nor do I form friendships fast,” I confessed. “It's rare for me to find someone I can connect with; someone I can feel comfortable enough to be myself around. And there are very few people who have ever truly been there for me when I needed them. These two men”–I nodded back to Torin and Declan–“have both become important to me. They have stood beside me and fought beside me. I care about them both; Torin as a lover and Declan as a friend. I will not betray my friendship to King Declan by turning on him because Torin feels threatened. Nor will I betray Torin by acting on any physical attraction I feel for King Declan.”
“Well said.” Ceana nodded with a satisfied smile. Then she turned to Torin. “I approve wholeheartedly of her.”
“That is a relief, Mother”–Torin smirked–“because I wouldn't have heeded you, had you disapproved. Elaria is the one woman I'd risk your wrath for.”
“And that only makes me approve of her more.” Ceana nodded, then gave me a wink. “Nicely done, Queen Elaria.”
“Oh, I'm not a–”
“Your Majesty,” Declan interrupted me, “recall what I said about 'once a queen'?”
“Always a queen,” I finished the statement, catching Declan's serious look.
I realized that his look had nothing to do with the queen comment and everything to do with me putting him in the friend zone. I hated hurting Declan, but he knew I loved Torin, and he also knew what that meant for us. He should have expected my sentiments.
“Think of it like the presidents in America,” Ceana offered. “Even when they leave office, they retain their title.”
I blinked at her in surprise. “Yes, that makes sense now. Thank you.”
“Of course, darling,” she purred. “Now, come along, I want you to meet my husband and my mother. They have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
Chapter Eight
“This is her?”
I wasn't expecting milk and cookies from Torin's grandmother, but after the warm welcome I received from his mother, I'd thought his grandmother would at least be civil to me. But this woman looked nothing like a cookie-baking granny, and her tone was far from civil. Scathing would have been an accurate description.
Her willowy body was rigid with disapproval, her ebony eyes full of disdain. Mahogany hair swept back from her stern features in a tight braid, showing off her golden-oak skin. The woman looked as if she were carved from wood, and had all the emotions that might entail. No, I take that back. Even Pinocchio had loved his father.
“Mother,” Ceana sighed, “please try and be nice.”
“To a witch?” Torin's grandmother lifted her chin as if they were asking her to be nice to a slug.
“I am part witch too, Mother,” Ceana said just as sternly.
“That is not your fault,” Torin's grandmother said.
“Neither is Elaria's heritage her fault, Grandmother,” Torin took a step in front of me. “She saved our realm, perhaps you can be a little more tolerant of witches today.”
The woman made a face like she had smelled something rotten in the state of Denmark.
“Whooee”–I shook my head–“tough room.”
“Oh, it's just begun,” Declan whispered.
“You make jokes?” The woman lifted a brow at me.
“Lady”–I leaned past Torin's shoulder, gently shoving him aside–“you are a joke.”
The whole room went quiet. Torin tensed. A small chuckled escaped the Alexandrite King.
“Excuse me?” Torin's grandmother looked like she was about to murder me.
“You think you know me?” I got in her face. “You think you know all witches because one bastard did something bad to you? You're a joke –a cliché. The embittered victim, still holding a grudge after centuries have passed. You wanna judge me without exchanging a single word with me? That's fine, but you're going to be judged in return. I don't even know your name, but I know you. I know your type. You had one trauma wreck your world, and now you think you're entitled to your bitterness; you're entitled to behave badly to whomever you wish. Well not me, honey. You don't get to disrespect me. I've overcome too much to get here, and I don't give a flying fairy fuck who you are. I won't allow it. I have way too much respect for myself to stand here and let anyone sling shit in my face. I've walked through blood and fire; hell, I've sung about it and rained it down from the sky in order to keep our realms safe. So, the likes of you ain't gonna phase me. You feel me . . . Grandma?”
“Holy fucking shit,” Declan whispered.
“Great gemstones,” Torin groaned.
Torin's grandmother stood shaking with rage for about thirty seconds. Her eyes started to shiver, then they widened slightly, she steadied herself and nodded.
“She's worthy of you, Torin,” the woman declared.
Every jaw in the room dropped even further. Except for mine; I smiled and held my arms out to her.
“Come here, Gran.” I pulled the woman into a hug before she could protest. “It's all good. I get it now, you were just testing me.”
She stood rigid for a moment, then her arms encircled me, and she hugged me back. The whole group took a relieved breath.
“Welcome, child,” she whispered to me. Then she slid out of my arms and gave me a little smile. “I am Countess Elise, but you may call me Ellie.”
“Ellie, eh?” I chuckled. “That's what they call me.”
“Perhaps we are more alike than I thought.” Elise nodded.
“Sweet stones, Mother,” Ceana huffed. “Was that really necessary?”
“Everyone must be tested, in one way or another.” Elise shrugged, then turned back to me. “But I would like to know one thing, Elaria. What is a 'flying fairy fuck'?”
Chapter Nine
“I have never seen anyone handle her like that,” Maon (pronounced “moon”), Torin's father, said to me. “Well done.”
“Thank you.” I shook his hand.
We'd just been introduced; minutes after I'd explained what a flying fairy fuck was to Torin's grandmother. I suppose I'd brought that on myself, but it was a rather awkward description. Declan had laughed his fairy butt off th
rough most of it. Torin had covered his face in mortification, and Maon had smirked at me. I'd known who Maon was instantly; his eyes gave him away. Torin's were their exact duplicates.
The rest of Maon was as different from Torin as it could be. His hair was dirty-blond and cropped short, his skin was so pale it was nearly white, and his build was the slim, athletic physique of most Shining One males. But those eyes . . . damn, they were all Torin.
“You realize that you're golden now?” Maon went on, stopping briefly to hug his son. “With Elise's blessing, you can do no wrong. At least, in this family.”
“Oh really?” I lifted a brow at Torin.
“Don't let it go to your head,” Torin warned me.
“No, that would be too much to bear. We already have your arrogance to deal with.” I grimaced.
“She's lovely,” Maon said to Torin.
“So I've heard,” Torin said dryly.
“Oh, come on”–I knocked my shoulder into Torin's arm–“you love me.”
“Yes, I most certainly do,” Torin's voice went soft as he slid an arm around my waist. “Despite the trials that accompany your affections.”
I leaned into the affection, laying my head briefly on his chest, before looking up to see that everyone in the room was smiling at us. Everyone except Declan, that is.
“I think I'll leave you to your family reunion,” Declan said crisply. “Elaria, if you could perhaps come and bid me goodbye before you leave Alexandrite?”
“Of course.” I gave him a little smile, hoping it conveyed how sorry I was that this was uncomfortable for him.
Declan nodded and left. I sighed. Damn it was rough when you really liked someone, and they really liked you, but you loved someone else. Then there was Banning. Every time I saw Banning Dalca, it was like a punch in the gut. My soul remembered him; I just didn't have the actual memories to go along with the feeling of our past. Well, not all of them. They'd been popping up more and more frequently, and they'd stopped limiting themselves to my dreams. I'd had numerous visions of my past with Banning, all while I was awake.
“Elaria?” Torin asked.
“Huh?”
“You looked far away for a second.”
“Just clearing my head.”
“Let's retire to the sitting room,” Elise suggested. “I think we could all use some refreshment.”
“Yes”–Torin's eyes looked concerned–“we could all use the chance to clear our heads.”
Chapter Ten
“You have a wonderful family,” I told Torin.
We were getting settled into our guest room later that evening. Our visit had lasted long enough for us to get invited to dinner, then Declan had insisted we spend the night. Torin liked the idea of having more time with his family, so we accepted the offer.
“Thank you,” Torin nestled me in against his chest. “I'm relieved that they approve of you.”
“You mean you're relieved that your grandmother approves of me.” I chuckled.
“She is a formidable woman.” Torin sighed.
“She's a countess, right?”
“Yes.”
“And your mother is a duchess?”
“Yes, and my father is a duke.” Torin craned his neck back to look at me. “What are you getting at?”
“Isn't a countess lower ranking than a duchess?”
“Ah”–he smiled–“you've noticed how the power seems to magnify down our family line.”
“Yes, it's interesting,” I said. “Especially since the least powerful person seems to have the most sway with your relatives.”
“She's the matriarch.” Torin settled back in.
“She never had any other children?”
“No,” Torin said. “The first birth was too traumatic, I suppose. And, as you said, she became a bit of a cliché; the embittered victim.”
“Oh, I was hoping that was all an act, to get under my skin.” I winced.
“No, most of it was her,” he admitted. “Though she added a little more venom to see how you'd react.”
“I said some pretty harsh things.” I sighed. “And I said them thinking that she was pushing me. I didn't mean to open old wounds.”
“You didn't,” he assured me. “My grandmother is made of sterner stuff than that. I think it's become a part of her persona now, too familiar to let go of.”
“Rape isn't an easy thing to overcome,” I said. “I haven't endured it, but I came close once, and just the possibility of it was terrifying. I can't imagine what it would be like to survive such an attack.”
“It was most likely very violent, seeing as it was done during time of war,” he whispered. “But she got my mother from it, and has often proclaimed that her greatest joy sprung from her greatest sorrow.”
“Your mother is pretty spectacular.”
“She is.” Torin smiled. “And her witch blood is part of that. I remember thinking my mother was more magical than any other Shining One because she would do things that no other fey could.”
“Like what?”
“She'd melt the snow in winter,” he said wistfully. “Where mother walked, it was always springtime. Flowers would sprout in her path. She was always warm, and when I grew cold, she'd show me how to be warm too. She could make fire . . . appear in–” Torin stopped and looked at me with shock. “Sweet stones, how has it never occurred to me?”
“Your mother is part fire witch,” I said with delight. “That is why our magic merges so well. We both come from the same element.”
“It would seem so,” he said with pleasure.
“Wait til I tell my father.” I laughed. “He'll be even more on your side.”
“On my side? What's that supposed to mean? Is there opposition toward me?”
“Never mind that,” I rushed on. “Your father is prettier than I expected.”
“Prettier?” He huffed.
“Well, you're so masculine”–I waved my fingers at him–“I kind of expected your father to be similar.”
Torin laughed. “Shining One men tend to be more refined in their appearance; they have a different kind of masculinity. It's the witch blood that gives me my bigger build and strong features, and that comes from my mother.”
“Yes, so I gathered.”
“Prettier.” Torin's laughter settled into chuckling. “I can't wait to tell him you said that.”
“Hell, I'll tell him myself, if you like,” I offered.
“No, that will just make him preen.” Torin rolled his eyes. “It will be far more entertaining coming from me.”
“However you want to get your jollies.”
“I have a better way to get my jollies.” Torin smirked and shifted above me. “And it doesn't include my father.”
“Well, thank the gods”–I pulled him closer–“because I'm not down with getting that close to your family.”
“Let's change the subject, shall we?” Torin pressed his mouth to mine and altered the course of our conversation.
Chapter Eleven
Something woke me in the middle of the night; a light touch on my cheek, a tingle of energy. I blinked into wakefulness as my eyes adjusted to the dark room. It was a royal suite, so it was quite spacious, and there was a lot of areas to search. Still, it was hard to miss the glowing apparition standing beside the bed.
“Declan?” I whispered.
The apparition smiled. “I didn't want to wake Torin by knocking. Will you come out into the corridor?”
“Why?” I narrowed my eyes on him. “And how are you doing this?”
“Because I don't want your first visit to my kingdom to pass by without a sojourn to the sea,” he said. “And this is one of alexandrite's powers, remember? Manifestation.”
“Cool.” I waved a hand through his shimmering form. It had no weight to it at all, just an illusion. “Give me a sec.”
“Thank you.” Ghostly-Declan faded away.
I cast a guilty look at Torin's sleeping shape, but the lure of seeing the fai
ry sea was too strong to resist. I trusted Declan, he wouldn't try anything untoward, but Torin wouldn't have approved of me running off to the beach alone with his rival. Which meant, Torin must never know. I hurried over to the pile of clothing I'd left strewn across one of the heavy carved chairs before the fireplace, and slipped into my dress and shoes. I padded to the door and crept outside. Declan was waiting for me with a fur-lined cloak in his hands.
“Your Majesty.” Declan held the cloak open for me. “The ride can get chilly at night.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the cloak. “Are we sneaking out without any guards?”
“I am a Shining One king, I need no guards.” He held a hand out to me. “Do you require them, spellsinger?”
“Declan”–I narrowed my eyes on him–“what have you got planned?”
“Nothing nefarious,” he vowed. “I just thought it would be more enjoyable if it were only the two of us.”
“I suppose it's alright.”
I placed my hand in his, and let him lead me out of the castle. When it came down to it, Declan could have taken advantage of me numerous times in the past and he hadn't. I knew I was safe with him . . . to a point.
It was kind of fun to sneak out of the castle and into the stables like a couple of teenagers evading authority. Within the stables, the sound of shuffling, snuffling horses became a soundtrack for the night and everything seemed to soften. We saddled a couple of sleepy mounts, then ambled across the courtyard with them in tow, the clicking of horseshoes echoing off the stone walls. The guards at the gate came to attention when they saw Declan, but he waved them back.
“We won't be gone long,” Declan said to them. “Just a quick trip to Sgàthan.”
“Yes, sire,” one of the knights said, casting me a curious glance.
The journey wasn't as far as I'd expected. Once we got past the drawbridge, we let the horses run, and I ended up laughing into the wind. It had been a long time since I'd done something furtive and fun. It wasn't like I was weighed down with responsibilities, but this thing with the sirens had thrown me, and I was more stressed over it than I had realized. Riding through Alexandrite with Declan, I suddenly felt free of all my worries.
