I’m wearing a gown made of starlight it seems. It glows with the power of the moon and wraps around my body like it’s part of me. My hair is pulled into a twist and sparkles with tiny lights, and on my feet I wear crystal slippers. “It’s perfect,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
She bows her head. Then flicks her wand again, and a rock nearby turns into a brand new carriage, white and trimmed with rhinestones. At the front end are two white horses, that, if I squint my eyes, almost look like they have horns on their foreheads. I gasp again. “Are those… unicorns?”
My mother just smiles. “You look like a princess,” she says. And I laugh at the horrible joke.
Her smile fades a fraction, turning melancholic. “It is time for me to go. My magic is spent. But know this. At the stroke of midnight, your fate will change.”
She disappears far too soon, and my candle is snuffed out.
I almost cry from the loss, but I realize the gift I’ve been given is short-lived and I must go. Now. I will mourn my mother later.
I lead the carriage and… horses… back to my camp, and the Jolly Jesters look on in awe. When I ask Tunk if he’d like to drive the carriage to the ball this evening, he bursts into tears of gratitude and excitement, and I wrap my arms around him and kiss the top of his head.
Sharon pulls me aside. “So it worked.” Her eyes widen in marvel as she takes in my gown.
I nod. “My mother came to me, Sharon. She did this.”
Sharon’s eyes fill with tears. “That does not surprise me. Your mother would cross through veils to be with you. That’s always been true. Now, go, and finish this.”
Chapter 8
After hasty goodbyes, I climb into the carriage and use the journey to compose myself for all I must do tonight. The road is bumpy, and I keep a wary eye out for bandits. I’m not used to being a potential target… I’m usually the one doing the targeting. But we don’t encounter any trouble. There are more soldiers out tonight, probably by order of the king to protect all his rich friends.
The sight of them makes me nervous, but I look the part I am trying to play, and so they let us pass by unmolested.
By the time I arrive, I am ready to finish this mission. Or as ready as I’ll ever be. The only thing I’m not prepared for is the sight of the castle itself. Despite the lanterns and soft, white pathway lights, the castle is a dark, imposing structure. I step out of the carriage, gripping Tunk’s hand tightly as I take it in. My chest tightens as the dark fae energy washes over me. But I force a smile at Tunk and concentrate on steady breathing. I am not going to be slowed down by a little dark magic. My mother’s ring warms my finger and my own renewed power thrums underneath my skin.
I will do what I came to do.
The dark king’s rule ends tonight.
I’m not just here to steal an artifact. I’m here to steal a kingdom.
With a few murmured parting words for Tunk, I tell him where to wait for my signal. He nods and hurries off to park the carriage and check in with Sarge and the others I know will be stationed on the outskirts, but close enough to intervene if needed. When he climbs back into the carriage, I turn and make my way up the long stone path leading to tall double doors carved with an intricate tree.
My eyes mist at the sight. No amount of dark fae magic can erase the light imbued in this wood, this design..
A soldier dressed in the more formal black and gold uniform of the dark fae king stops me as I approach.
“Invitation?” He sounds bored.
“I . . .” I hesitate. Lord Tyler has mine, and I don’t see him anywhere. Maybe he’s stood me up--all part of the lies he wove to me these past weeks.
When I don’t produce one, the soldier sighs as if he’s dealt with this before. “Name?”
“Kate--” I stop when I realize I never told Lord Tyler my last name.
But the soldier simply checks a list and nods. “You’re free to enter.”
I exhale and hurry past him.
I’m in.
The grand foyer is lit with twinkling lights that offer a clear path to the ballroom. Even without the lights, I know the way, but I walk slowly, pretending to be entranced with the luxury around me. In reality, I fight back the bile that rises as I take in the dark cloud of twisted power that hangs in these halls.
Gone are the banners that once hung here and the flags that flew the colors of our allied kingdoms. Now, there are crisp gray walls, smooth and cold to the touch. Everything is blank and drab and cold. Even the expressions of the soldiers stationed every dozen yards are sour and stony. The only familiar item is an old grandfather clock that stands at the entrance to the Grand Hall, its familiar ticking timed perfectly to the steady, albeit anxious, beating of my own heart.
My throat clogs with memories. The hall is both familiar and strange, and I shudder at the cheerlessness. What used to be a warm, happy home is now a cold tomb.
When I make it to the ballroom, I pause at the entrance, sweeping the crowd. Despite the fact that over half the room has been packed full of fancily dressed maidens, the moment I step inside, everyone stares at me.
A hush falls over this part of the room.
I falter, wondering if I’ve already somehow been discovered. My dress only barely hides the telling mark on my shoulder, but I resist the urge to glance down at it now. Any wrong move could give me away.
But then a face appears, cutting through the crowd with swift, sure steps. I hate the way my heart leaps at the sight of him. It’s relief for my plans, nothing more, I tell myself as Lord Tyler stops before me.
He is handsome tonight and dressed finer than I’ve ever seen in a royal blue jacket with gold buttons. He pauses, gaze sweeping the length of me, and when his eyes reach mine again, they are wide in awe.
“Mistress Kate, you look stunning.”
All part of the plan, I tell myself, as heat rises to my cheeks.
“You clean up well, too, Lord Tyler.”
His lips twitch in a playful grin and he turns so that we’re shoulder to shoulder, offering his arm. “Allow me to escort you inside.”
And I do, despite the distrust that still lingers.
Lord Tyler draws more attention than I anticipated, and we’re stopped over and over again before we reach the center of the large room. I smile and nod and murmur hellos when he introduces me, but otherwise I am happy to let him lead the conversation and the direction of our movements. If nothing else, it offers a distraction from my quiet mood. A reticence he hopefully won't notice until I’ve done what I came to do.
While he makes small talk with a wealthy merchant from another kingdom, I glance around the ballroom, taking in the details. Mentally, I note the exits and the security detail stationed around the room.
There is a raised dais on one side of the space with a jewel-encrusted throne that currently sits empty. I shudder and turn away, glad there is no sign of the king or his son, the prince. Once he arrives, I imagine it will be harder to move around without being spotted. Especially since all eligible maidens will be expected to flock toward the stage rather than away.
Best if I slip out before that happens.
“M’lady?”
I look over and see Lord Tyler has broken away from the other guests and is holding out his hand expectantly. “Would you care to dance?”
I look around, surprised to see other couples on the dance floor. At some point during my internal strategizing, the musicians began to play. The king has yet to arrive, and until he does, I can’t execute my plan. Which means I have to pretend to enjoy myself.
I’ve had worse missions than dancing with a handsome man who makes my heart flutter. Though, pretending I haven’t uncovered his deception hurts my heart more than I anticipated it would.
With no reason not to, I place my hand in his and let him spin me onto the dance floor. The shoes my mother’s magic made are soft and weightless, and I am lighter on my feet than I expected considering how long it’s been since I experienced anythi
ng like this.
One dance leads to another and before I know it, I’m lost to the music and the feel of our bodies brushing against one another. The magic of this moment, borne of nothing more than the light touch of our hands and the shared movement of our bodies, is enchanting. If only it were a real connection, not merely a lust-filled lie.
I don’t know how long I’m lost in his gaze, but slowly, I come back to myself. The ball is more than dancing and a handsome escort. So much more.
And my time is running out.
Before I can figure out how to extricate myself from Lord Tyler, the current song ends and he is sweeping me out onto the terrace. I blink up at a sky full of stars and then out at the view of the palace gardens, fragrant and lush.
More than their beauty, though, when I look out over the terrace rail, I see memories. They hit me like a punch and I blink back tears at the onslaught.
“Whew.” Lord Tyler exhales. “I don’t know about you, but I needed a breather.”
I am quiet until I can trust my voice. “It’s beautiful out here.”
Lord Tyler turns to me. “You are beautiful,” he says and the spark in his eyes makes my pulse race anew. “I’m not sure what made you change your mind on the dress, but I wholeheartedly approve.”
“It was a gift from a . . . special friend,” I say, and the words are the reminder I need of why I’m really here. No more romantic gazing or dancing. It’s time to break that particular spell. “Speaking of friends, I went looking for you last night.”
His smile fades. “Looking for me?”
“Yes. I had a friend who needed help so I followed your tracks from our swimming encounter.”
I watch his expression closely which has completely shut down, giving nothing away. It’s an answer in itself. My heart pangs.
“You have another hidden talent,” he says, his voice strange. “Tracking isn’t easy in that part of the forest.”
“So it would seem. They led me to a barn of all things.” I force a laugh. “So silly, but I can only guess I mistook another’s tracks for yours. Surely you do not live in a barn.”
He laughs. “Fortunately, my home offers a bit more comfort than that.”
“Yes, fortunate,” I murmur.
His eyes hold mine and I let all the betrayal I feel leak into my expression. Finally, he shakes his head. “You have found me out, m’lady. I feel I must be honest with you.”
“Have you not been honest thus far?” I ask, and although I already know the answer, it stings to hear the words.
“You must understand, my deception was not personal. I only wanted to experience what it would be like to be seen for who I am rather than what. Can you understand?”
I nod because there’s no one who understands better the need for hiding a dangerous truth. But there’s nothing dangerous about being dark fae or even wealthy that should drive a man to want to hide. Not in this kingdom, with this king.
“I understand wanting to drop pretenses. But your attempts at kindness are overruled by your deceptions, at least with me.”
I tell my feet to move, to leave him here, but they don’t obey. And when his lips brush mine, any commands I might have sent to the rest of me are lost to the pleasure I feel at his touch.
“You know, you are not what I expected at all,” he murmurs, and before I can ask what that means, he grabs my hand, his expression twisting into something more urgent. “You must know that what I’m about to tell you changes nothing. My feelings for you are real--”
The sound of a trumpet drowns out his words.
Over his shoulder, through the open terrace doors, I see a royal processional entering the ballroom. Flags and fanfare lead the way for a grand entrance fit for only one man.
I tense as I catch sight of the king’s face as he climbs the dais where his throne has been placed. Beside me, Lord Tyler tenses too.
“All hail the king!” The royal announcer steps aside, and King Vatell himself stands to address the crowd.
His eyes are dark, almost black, and even from this distance I can feel the crackle of his magic crawling over the space already thick with dark fae bodies.
“Welcome eligible maidens,” the king says, his voice cruel and cutting even when he tries to be friendly. “Thank you all for coming. Before we begin, I must ask that my son join me so that he may greet those who have come to offer themselves as his bride.”
He speaks as if we are cattle and as if that isn’t enough to disgust me, one by one, all heads turn our way.
Confusion blots out fear and I look around, searching for who they’re waiting for. Perhaps the prince has come up the terrace steps at our backs. But when I look, there is no one else. We are alone in the open doorway.
Slowly, Lord Tyler pulls away from me.
When I look up at him, there is an apology in his gaze. “Please, don’t leave. I will return. And I’ll explain everything.”
The king clears his throat. “I know you’re here, son. Don’t keep your subjects waiting.” There’s a clear note of warning in his tone now.
The crowd murmurs impatiently.
“Remember who I am. Not what.” Lord Tyler doesn’t wait for my answer before he hurries through the waiting crowd and steps onto the dais beside the king.
My mind reluctantly makes the connection just as the announcement is made, and I feel it like a sucker punch to the gut.
“Fair maidens of the land, I give you my son, Prince Lincold Tyler Maxwell Mournspark. Your future king, and for one lucky maiden here tonight, your future husband.”
Chapter 9
My mouth feels brittle and dry, like I just swallowed sand.
My heart is hammering in my chest.
All the little discrepancies about Lord Tyler finally piece together into a story I wish I didn’t know the ending to.
From the dais, his gaze is locked with mine as his father--the king!--displays him like a prize to be auctioned. I make sure he can see the anger on my face as I bury the pain and betrayal deep within.
I had no right to fall for him, so it’s my own fault I’ve been played a fool. But I don’t have to stand here and watch this nonsense play out either.
Furious with myself for the mistakes that led me here, I spin on my weightless glass slippers and storm across the terrace and down the steps, making my way to the west garden.
The sun has set, and the garden has come alive with the glow of nocturnal plants and flowers, shimmering under moonbeams. Despite everything, the vision steals my breath.
“Not all dark fae magic is used for evil,” a voice behind me says.
I keep my eyes focused on the garden and my voice level as I reply. “Shouldn’t you be at the ball finding a wife, Lord Tyler?” I turn to glare at him. “Or should I say, Prince Lincold Tyler Maxwell Mournspark?” I spit his name at him like it’s a bitter taste in my mouth.
“I wanted to tell you,” he says, taking my hand, but I’m not ready for him to touch me.
I step back, pulling my hand away, and hating myself for how much I miss his touch.
“You’re the prince,” I say.
“Is being a ruler so terrible in your mind?” he asks.
“Not just any ruler.” I shake my head. “You are the reason my people have been driven out of towns and villages all over this kingdom. The reason we have been beaten, hanged and prosecuted. Our property taken from us. Our children murdered.”
He flinches at each of my words, and I take pleasure in making him squirm under the hateful weight of his legacy.
“Why do you think I was sneaking off to spend time in the village? Or with you?”
“I can’t begin to fathom the reasons for your treacherous spying,” I say. “But it’s clear where you get it from.”
“I’m not like my father,” he says quietly, his eyes unexpectedly full of a deep sorrow.
I feel myself soften towards him and I steel myself against it.
“You lied to me.”
How pathet
ic that I’m making this about my bruised feelings when there’s so much more at stake.
“It seems he’s been lying to everyone,” another voice says, intruding on the conversation I shouldn’t even be having.
Tyler turns to the voice, his hand falling to his hip like he’s trying to reach for a sword that isn’t there. “Father.”
I look up to see the king watching us both carefully. He’s shorter than I expected, and though I can see the resemblance between father and son, the king has harder eyes that lack the compassion and kindness of his son’s.
My magic screams at me to fight. Attack. But the witch’s blood is content to wait, already watching for the opening I need. I’d come here tonight intending to sneak off in search of the stone but maybe I won’t have to. I think fast, scrambling for a plan.
“And you,” the king says, his dark eyes landing on me. “You are the one who has been robbing my people. The leader of the Jolly Jesters. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor, isn’t that what they say about you?”
All thoughts of the mission are momentarily suspended as shock knocks me off balance. How does he know?
But I’m careful not to let my surprise show.
I glare at him, refusing to back down. “I wouldn’t have to rob anyone if you took care of the kingdom you stole from its rightful rulers,” I hiss, my anger and power bubbling up inside me.
The king ignores me and speaks to his son. “I suppose I should thank you for your help. We never would have found her if not for you.”
Another piece to the puzzle clicks into place. The soldiers attacking us at camp the other night. Mere hours after Tyler had found me at the river.
But Tyler’s confusion is authentic, and I realize the truth with a growing horror.
“You followed him,” I say to the king, letting the full weight of my anger leak into the accusation.
The king smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cold, black eyes. He licks his lips in a way that makes me nauseous and steps forward. “Of course I had the heir to the kingdom followed when I suspected he was sneaking off and shirking his responsibilities.”
The Spring Witch (Season of the Witch Book 2) Page 6
