by Meara Platt
Cadeyrn took her into his arms.
She protested, for he was wounded and needed help, not she.
“Melody, you’re feeling the aftereffects of battle,” he explained. “It is a common human response. You’ll feel better after a night’s sleep. Don’t fret about your gown, either. I’ll fix the stains and rips. You’ll find it draped over your chair, good as new, when you wake tomorrow. All this will seem no more than a bad dream.”
A bubble of hysterical laughter caught in her throat. They had faced demons and he thought she was worried about her gown? She dreaded never seeing Cadeyrn again, knew he meant to settle her in bed beneath the warm bedcovers and cast a faerie spell of forgetfulness over her, for it was told in common lore that faeries held such power.
She didn’t want to forget him or any of this day.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as the events of the day began to sink in. She had gone to the garden to pick bluebells this morning, met a faerie king, baked a pie, burned a meal, and vanquished demons. Demons! Every sensible instinct screamed at her to run as far away from Cadeyrn as possible. Those sensible instincts warned her to be grateful she would never see him again.
Unfortunately, her heart seemed to be winning this battle raging within her and simply would not allow it. “Please, Your Majesty. I don’t wish to forget you.”
She meant to brush away the tears before he noticed them, but there were too many.
He ran his thumb along her cheek to wipe away a few, his hand lingering there as though he wished to savor a last touch. “Melody, you don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“I do. I must see you again.”
“No, it’s too dangerous for you,” he said, obviously troubled as he released her and rose. She meant to utter further protest, but he shook his head and suddenly turned away. “My council of Fae elders has arrived.”
Melody brushed away the last of her tears and looked around. “Where are they? I don’t see them.”
Cadeyrn didn’t reply, for he was now facing the altar, his head tilted as though listening intently to his council’s conversation. “Count them and you’ll see … more than a dozen of Lord Brihann’s demons. All dead, the demons, that is,” he said as though responding to questions, and then he paused again. “Indeed, we owe her a great debt of gratitude. Ygraine, it has not escaped my notice either. Very well, I will do as the council advises. I will tell her the rest of it … no, not now. When the time is right.”
“Tell me what?” Melody asked, studying his expression when he turned back to her.
“You shall have your wish, Melody,” he said, looking none too pleased. “This will not be our last meeting, after all.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding and smiled. “I’m glad.”
“Don’t be. The journey is a perilous one and I’m still not certain you’re meant to undertake it with me. You fought those demons valiantly, but what if your strength is not enough? Julia was also valiant and she proved not to be The One. I think you’ll come to regret you won this night.”
Chapter Four
Cadeyrn had been fighting demons for as long as he could remember, but this evening’s battle was different. He had actually felt pain, though he refused to admit it to Melody or his Fae council. He now understood why the ancient Fae had forsaken this oddity called feeling. While some sensations were pleasant, such as the warmth of Melody’s lips pressed against his, others weren’t at all.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Melody asked when he returned to her side hours later. She scrambled off her bed and came toward him the moment he appeared in her chamber. She reached out her hand as though to touch him, but held back. “Take off your shirt and let me see the—”
“I will not,” Cadeyrn grumbled, for he had returned to her chamber only to look after her. It was his duty to protect her, not the other way around.
“But—”
He frowned at her, for he had earlier removed his tattered and bloodied finery and changed into fresh clothes—a white shirt, buff trousers, and black boots that rose just above his knees. He was not about to strip out of them again when every movement still caused him pain.
“Please, Your Majesty. I wish to see what those demons did to you.”
Cadeyrn and his Fae council had earlier examined the demon bodies and removed all trace of them from St. Lodore’s Church. About two hours—as humans counted time—had passed since their encounter with Lord Brihann’s demon scouts, and Cadeyrn had been eager to return to Melody’s side to make certain she was all right. After all, if she was to be his queen, she would have to be kept safe until the Prophecy was fulfilled.
She reached out to touch him, and he saw that her hands were trembling. He caught them in his and held them gently. “I’m healed, Melody. You needn’t fret.”
“I can’t help it.”
He understood her concern and did not dismiss it lightly. He was used to fighting these foul creatures, but she wasn’t, and their appearance must have scared her quite badly. Yet, she’d fought bravely at his side. Was it possible one could feel brave and scared at the same time?
Curious.
“Your Majesty, I must insist,” she said, tipping her chin upward and addressing him with unexpected determination.
He let out an incredulous laugh. “Insist?”
She nodded. “Take off your shirt.”
The girl was obviously muddled, ordering him about as though she were the reigning monarch and had every right to issue pronouncements. She was hardly dressed like one would expect of a monarch, having changed out of her own stained clothes and now wearing a plain, dark green robe loosely cinched over a white linen nightgown.
She looked pretty, though. Her robe was a beautiful, deep green resembling the hue of the woodlands over which he presided, and her hair was unbound and curling about her shoulders. He was glad she had not braided it yet. He liked the way those lively dark curls framed her face.
He liked her eyes, too. She had nice ones for a human. Big, green eyes that brightened and warmed whenever she smiled.
She smiled at him often.
Just not now.
“I won’t back down,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at him as though preparing for battle and not for bed.
“You dare to command a king?” He imitated her stance. “Will I be ordered to drop my trousers next?”
A blush shot up her cheeks. “Of course not! What a notion!”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
She dropped her hands to her sides and gave a slight shake of her head. “I mean no disrespect, Your Majesty, but you suffered two cracked ribs and a gaping stab wound just above your right hip, not to mention the damage the demons must have caused when digging their sharp talons into your flesh.”
“My council has healed me. I will not have you questioning their abilities.”
“You mistake me. I’m astounded by their powers and wish to know more. I do believe that your Fae council can perform miracles and am curious to know how. Why are you so resistant to my request? If you’re healed, then show me … or have you not been completely honest with me?”
“You dare to question my honor? I will not have it!”
“Oh, you’re getting angry again. I’ve said this badly, but you have a way of unsettling me,” she said with a wincing roll of her eyes. “Anyone can see that you’re an honorable man.”
“Man? I’m High King of the Fae!”
She tossed him a look of exasperation, as though he were behaving unreasonably, not she. “Yes, I’m quite aware. Kindly keep your voice down. I would not like others to hear.”
The impertinence! He was no irritating pixie to be scolded by this slip of a girl.
“It seems more important,” he reminded, “that you keep silent, for you’re the only one the others can hear.”
Vicar Axwell and Melody’s mother were the only other occupants of the vicarage, and he knew for certain that neither one co
uld see or hear him. There didn’t seem to be a pattern to how or when these humans could see into the Fae world. Ygraine thought it had to do with the opening of their hearts. Perhaps—for Melody’s heart had instinctively opened to accept him. But humans also had a dark side. It had not escaped his notice that the vicar had seen him in his raven form and had been terrified.
“Me? Keep silent?” She seemed to take no offense at the comment, instead casting him a mirthful grin. “Well, little chance of that happening.”
He let out a soft laugh. “I suppose not.”
In truth, he had merely been impatient with Melody, never angry. He understood that she meant well and liked that she tended to speak her mind, though she did tend to ramble on occasion. The girl had saved his Fae soul this evening and that counted for more than he dared to admit, even to himself.
“I trust you, of course,” she explained, believing he required more of an apology than she had offered. “The point is, you have a protective nature, no doubt ingrained in you over thousands of years. As king it is your duty to protect your subjects, but I’m not one of them and don’t wish you to hide the truth from me, no matter how unsettling it might be.”
She took a deep breath and continued. “You put yourself at risk to save me from that army of demons tonight.”
“Hardly an army. It was merely a dozen. I’ve fought off more on other nights.”
“Am I forbidden to show any concern for you?”
“It isn’t necessary. I’m standing before you, alive and well.”
“Alive,” she agreed, “but I’m not convinced you’re well. I beg of you, if your Fae council was unable to completely heal your injuries, then let me try. There may be something I can do.”
Cadeyrn ran a hand across the nape of his neck, wondering just how Melody had sensed his lingering pain when he’d fooled his own advisors. “Very well,” he grumbled, “but that’s the last order I’ll ever take from you. Is it understood?”
She nodded.
Cadeyrn removed his shirt, casually tossing it over the footboard of her bed, though the sharp twinges running up his sides were real and his movements were anything but casual. “What next?”
Melody cleared her throat. She was blushing again, her cheeks as red as a brightly blazing fire. “May I touch you?” she asked, letting out a little rush of breath.
He nodded. “I give you permission to touch me anywhere you desire.”
“Chest and shoulders will do,” she replied, her cheeks even redder than before.
She stared at each bulge and contour of his chest as though she’d never seen a man’s bare chest before. Fae and human were similarly formed, and it suddenly struck Cadeyrn that Melody, despite her outward bravado, was an innocent when it came to men.
“There’s a little blood on your shoulder,” she said in a raw whisper. “I need water to—”
He waved his hand and drew the ewer and basin to her side.
“Ah, yes. Well done.” She poured some water into the basin. “I’ll need a cloth to cleanse away the blood—”
He waved his hand again, completing the request before the words had fully spilled from her lips.
“And some longer strips of cloth to bandage your ribs.”
“It isn’t necessary. They aren’t broken, just bruised.” He didn’t add that they were still quite tender.
“Please.”
“So be it.” He waved his hand again.
Long strips of cloth appeared in her hand. She shook her head and let out a groaning laugh. “How are you able to do that?”
“All Fae can. It is nothing unusual, though I see that you’re troubled by it. If you prefer, I can make all of it disappear.”
She grabbed his hand. “No, don’t. I need these things. Can all Fae read my thoughts as you do?”
“No.”
“Good, because it isn’t polite to snoop into another’s thoughts. There may be times, particularly in my most private moments, when you might … unwittingly read something I don’t wish you to know.”
He leaned closer and grinned. “It isn’t me you ought to worry about, but yourself. I read your expressions, not your thoughts. There’s no magic to it. In truth, it’s easy to do, for you reveal everything with the mere widening of your eyes or the flush of your cheeks, the swell of your lips. See, you’re nibbling your lip again. You do that whenever you’re flustered.”
She stopped nibbling and pursed her mouth, trying to draw her naturally full pink lips into a tense, thin line. She couldn’t hide their appeal no matter how hard she tried.
“This must stop,” she said with a pert tilt of her chin. “Whatever it is you do to me, stop doing it.”
“Melody, I can’t.” He leaned even closer, their breaths mingling as her mouth parted in a small gasp of surprise. “I must learn as much about you as possible over the next few days. My council bids it.”
“Of course, because you’re worried about your subjects and how to save them.”
He nodded. “I’ve told you so before.”
“I know.” She sighed and began to wipe the lingering traces of blood off his chest and shoulders. “But you have a soft way of looking at me that makes me forget I mean no more than that to you.”
He frowned. “Is it improper? I do not wish to offend you.”
“No. I rather like it,” she said, casting him a hesitant smile that quickly faded with the slight shake of her head. She began to fuss about him again. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to find no more than a few scratches on you. The way those demons’ talons ripped through your shirt, I feared they’d ripped the flesh off you. But I see they haven’t.”
She stepped behind him, continuing to chatter as she ran her hands lightly up and down his spine and across his shoulders. He hardly heard the words, for his skin tingled wherever she touched and the lingering ache in spots that had remained tender began to ease, particularly in spots where the demon talons had been buried deep. “They broke your ribs, didn’t they? Why did you tell me they were merely bruised? No matter, I suppose you didn’t wish to alarm me. How did your council mend them?”
“Counselor Ygraine is our healer. Many others on my council have healing powers as well, but none as strong as hers. She opened her hands and spread her fingers, then placed them flat upon my bare chest and said an incantation.”
“That’s all? Then what?”
He shrugged. “Warmth filled my body, a warmth such as I felt when I kissed you on the lips. Almost the same. Not quite the same. Your touch felt … different.”
Melody raised a hand to her lips and lightly ran her fingers along them.
“The damage was deep this time,” he admitted, “and though my ribs are no longer broken, they still ache. It is an odd sensation, one I’ve never experienced before. Do you ever ache, Melody?”
“Sometimes,” she said, dropping her hand to her side and letting out a small laugh. “Humans ache for many reasons, not all of them painful.”
“Such as?”
“For love,” she said, the blush returning to her cheeks with vehemence. “That is a beautiful ache, for one’s heart fills to bursting with happiness.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
Her eyes widened and mouth gaped open as though surprised by the question. “Goodness, no! What a question! Not that it’s a bad question, mind you. But, no. I have not. One doesn’t fall in love merely upon a chance meeting. It takes time. Who’s to say how long? It could take years. And there’s so much involved. The parties must be suited not only in their dispositions but their families’ statures as well.”
“Are you and Lord Bad Cock suited?”
She frowned. “You mean me and Lord Babcock? I don’t know. I doubt it. He’s quite an important man.”
“I don’t like him.”
“Why ever not? He was most amiable. I can’t explain why he joined us for supper, though. He and Vicar Axwell do not appear to be friends.”
“Do you not find it suspi
cious?”
“I find it curious, that’s all. You and I are friends, aren’t we? There’s nothing odd about that … well, it is odd, that’s true. But it isn’t wrong. One can like another who is not of their own standing in society. I like you, and we’re not even of the same world.”
“Melody, do you think you can love someone who is not of your world?”
He felt her fingers suddenly tense upon his shoulders, as though she sensed the question was important. Her chin tilted upward again. “I haven’t given it a moment’s consideration. Why would you ask such a question?”
He thought the reason was obvious, but what appeared clear to him was not always so to a human. “I ask because I wish to know the answer.”
“Well, yes. That is why one does ask a question, but why that one? And why ask it of me?”
“You know the reason.”
“I suppose I do. But I’m not your One, and can never be. I’m not all-powerful and I detest fighting.”
“You fought well this evening. You cannot deny it.”
“To help you. That’s all. Next time, I’ll obey your command and run as fast as my legs will carry me. Those demons frightened me and I never wish to encounter them again. There, does that answer your question?”
“Not in the least. Melody, can you love me? I must have your answer, not in a week or a month, but before the rise of the next full moon.”
She stared at him a long moment and her eyes began to water. “What if I said that I could?”
“It would please me.” He wondered why that admission appeared to make her sad, but didn’t ask. A strange warmth began to fill his body, as though her tears had the power to chase eternal cold from his heart. The warmth would not last long, he knew. Still, it was important for him to understand these remnants of human sensation known to the ancient Fae and destined to die with Ygraine and Fiergrin, the eldest and wisest among his counselors.
“Can you love me, Your Majesty?” Melody asked, her voice trembling.
