by Box Set
I wander away, swinging my arms at my sides and trying to pretend I don’t feel rejected. I look around and notice one of the male graduates watching me. Another one flashes a smile in my direction. I look away quickly, clasping my hands behind my back. Weirdos.
The great throne room doors engraved with curling patterns of leaves and branches slowly begin to open. A uniformed man comes through them and stands in front of us. All chattering amongst the graduates ceases. “The Seelie Queen will receive you now,” he says. “You will enter the throne room as you are announced. Keep your eyes down, bow or curtsy, and if she speaks to you, address her as ‘my lady.’ She will dismiss you with a wave of her hand, after which you will leave the room through the door on the left and take your place in the dining room.”
The doors are fully open now, and the guard returns to stand just inside, opposite another guard. When he calls out the first name—Opal Briarstone—the dark-haired girl standing beside Ryn walks forward. I stand on tiptoe and crane my neck to try and catch a glimpse of the room and the Queen, but after a stern look from the guard calling out the names, I drop back onto my feet.
I don’t know what sort of order they’re using to call out the names, but there are only four of us left in the hallway when Ryn and I are called in. We walk forward into the room, almost close enough to hold hands. Giant marble tiles—surprisingly not that cold beneath my feet—form a mosaic pattern of concentric circles across the floor. Shapes move beneath the surface of the tiles, and I’m reminded for a second of the chamber Nate and I found his mother Angelica in. I push the two of them from my mind. I’m about to meet the Seelie Queen herself; I don’t need any distractions.
We reach a marking on the floor and come to a stop. Ryn bows and I attempt to curtsy in my super-tight dress. I raise my eyes just high enough to see the bottom of the Queen’s skirt, which looks like it’s been cast from a cascading green waterfall.
“Ah, yes,” the Queen says. “The Guild that managed to produce two top graduates instead of one. That has not happened since the reign of my mother.” She pauses, but I don’t see her hand move, so I stay exactly where I am. “You both come from a long line of guardians, do you not?”
“Yes, my lady,” Ryn says, answering for both of us.
Another pause. “So unfortunate, Miss Fairdale, what happened to both your parents.”
My insides seem to freeze and burn at the same time. “Unfortunate, my lady?” I raise my eyes. I know I’m not supposed to, but it’s too late now. I see a woman with long black hair interwoven with silver strands. Her thick tresses slide over her bare shoulders. Her bright silver eyes pierce me, but I still can’t look away. She’s many centuries old, but her face is flawless, of course. And something about that face and the way she tilts her chin up as she gazes down at me seems familiar. “If you’re referring to the fact that both my parents were murdered while carrying out their guardian duty, I prefer to think of it as tragic rather than simply unfortunate.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Ryn’s hands clenching into fists. If I could hear his thoughts, they’d probably be something along the lines of Are you flipping trying to get your head chopped off? Now would be a good time to point my eyes firmly downward, but I can’t seem to tear them away from the Queen’s silver gaze. For several endless moments we’re locked in what feels like a staring contest. Then she raises her hand and dismisses us with a quick wave toward the door on the left.
* * *
“Holy goblin asses, V. I thought she was going to strike you down with her eyes.”
I laugh as I swing myself around a pillar just outside the room with the water fountain. Our dinner with the Queen is over, and we’re heading back to our rooms. “So did I. I have no idea what came over me; I just got really angry when she referred to my parents’ deaths as ‘unfortunate.’ I wanted to say how unfortunate it was that her younger daughter ran away.”
“Then she really would’ve struck you down,” Ryn says. “It’s weird that she even knows about your parents. Do you think she reads some kind of bio on each of us before we get here?” He leans over and swipes his hand through the base of the water feature as we pass it, splashing water across my back.
“Hey!” I shout, then cover my mouth as two graduates on the stairs turn around and frown down at us. “I don’t know. She probably had someone magically feeding her the highlights on each of us as we walked into the room.”
“Probably.” We mount the stairs. “You know, I always imagined dinner with the Queen to be a far more informative event. I was hoping for some in-depth discussions, and instead we were seated so far away we couldn’t even hear her.”
“Well, you seemed to have plenty to discuss with the girl sitting next to you,” I say as I trail my hand up the banister. “And I’m not talking about me.”
Ryn stops. I turn to look down at him from the step above his. He cocks his head to the side as he says, “Did I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice, Sexy Pixie?”
“No.” The word leaves my mouth too quickly. “And don’t call me Sexy Pixie. It’s almost as bad as Pixie Sticks.”
“I apologize,” he says, but that mischievous gleam never leaves his eyes.
We reach my bedroom first, and I pause with my hand against the door. “I’ve been trying to figure something out all evening. The Queen seems very familiar to me, but I know I’ve never met her before.”
Ryn raises both eyebrows. “You know her portrait is hanging in the Guild library, right?”
“Oh, yes. I’d forgotten about that.” Then I shake my head. “But I never sit at that end of the library. It’s been years since I saw that portrait.” I shrug and lean back to push my door open. “Anyway, I’ll see you in five minutes?”
“Yes,” Ryn says, giving me a salute.
I close my door and wriggle out of the dress. I change into black pants and a top and pull the pins out of my hair. Should I add my boots? No, I’m enjoying being barefoot too much. But that does leave me with the problem of where to put my stylus. After some thought, I twist my hair up and stick my stylus through it to hold it in place. Perfect. Why haven’t I tried that before?
“Ready?” Ryn calls from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, come in.” I lean forward for a quick look in the floor-length mirror. Apparently I still care what I look like in front of Ryn. My reflection shows light from the ceiling’s glow-bug glinting off the gold key around my neck. I raise my fingers to touch it, a gesture that’s quickly becoming a habit for me. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something.” I look at Ryn in the mirror. “Did you bring the eternity necklace? This visit seems like the perfect opportunity to give it to the Queen.”
Ryn shakes his head and pushes his hands into his pockets.
I turn around. “Why not?”
He lets out a long breath before answering. “Think about it, V. Does any monarch have the right to live forever? They already get to rule for hundreds of years. Isn’t that enough? It doesn’t seem right to have the same queen forever. It doesn’t seem right for anyone to live forever.”
I look down at my hands, considering his words. I’ve never really thought about it before, but I suppose he’s right. “Well, what are you going to do with the necklace?”
“I don’t know. Destroy it, I guess.”
“And what,” I say gently, “makes you think you have the right to destroy it?”
He looks away, rubbing his thumb against the door frame. When his gaze returns to me, there’s humor in his eyes. “Has anyone ever asked if the pants you wear cut off the circulation of blood to the lower half of your body?”
The sudden change in subject throws me. I stare at him, wondering if his ridiculous question is a joke. He stares back. Apparently not. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever been asked that.”
“Oh.” His eyes move down, brushing over my body before moving up again. “It’s just that I’ve always thought they seemed a little tight.”
My face heats up at t
he thought of Ryn examining my legs. I grab my sparkly dress from the bed and turn away from him to hang it over the back of the chaise longue. “They’re not tight, Ryn, they’re super stretchy. That’s why I wear them all the time; they’re great for training and fighting.” I turn back to him with arms crossed over my chest. “And how exactly is this relevant?”
“It isn’t. I had no answer to your question, so I changed the subject.” He pushes away from the door frame. “Shall we get started with Mission: Exploration?”
“Yes, please, let’s get started.” I head past him into the corridor while he closes my door. I’ve been desperate to search the palace all day, and I’m not going to bed until I’ve found my mother’s hiding place. “If anyone asks, we’re just taking an evening stroll.”
“Right. Because no one said we weren’t allowed to do that.”
“Exactly.”
“So, do you have even the faintest idea where to start looking?”
“Yes, sort of.” We head down the stairs. “My father remembered my mother saying something about a lake or pool that has a stone structure built near it. He said she learned an architecture spell and created a small room concealed in the stone. You know, like how our homes are concealed within trees? And she left some kind of sign or symbol nearby that would help a person open it.”
“Okay, that information would be helpful if it weren’t for the fact that we passed about five hundred pools on our tour of the grounds today.”
“Is that all? I’m sure I counted six hundred.” I laugh and dodge out of the way as Ryn catches water spilling down from the mermaids’ hands and tries to splash me a second time.
“Fine, perhaps I exaggerated just a tiny bit.” He shakes his hands dry as his eyes slide over my shoulder and widen. I turn to see what he’s looking at. A male faerie, his head bowed as if deep in thought, comes toward us through one of the many arches on the open side of the vast room. He looks up, catches my gaze, and freezes. All color drains from his face.
If I could see my own face, I’d probably find a similar expression of shock. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t even think properly. Because the man standing beneath the archway, the man with yellow-gold eyes and streaks of the same color running through his chestnut hair, is my father.
Twenty-One
A beat of frozen silence passes between us. Then he turns and runs back out to the grounds, disappearing into the darkness of the night.
“Wait!” I shout. I take off after him, but Ryn grabs onto my shirt and pulls me back.
“What are you—Let go of me!”
“Stop, Violet. Just think about this for a second.”
“What’s there to think about? That’s my father!” I scream. “Let me go!”
“How?” Ryn shouts, shaking me. “How can that be your father? You saw his body. You watched him float away under the Infinity Falls. So did I.”
I sag against Ryn in defeat as I realize the truth. Of course it isn’t my father. It isn’t possible. But for one tiny moment I wanted so badly to believe that it was. “Shapeshifter,” I whisper. That’s the only explanation. Some shapeshifter has taken on my father’s form.
“It must be,” Ryn says quietly. “I’m sorry, V. I didn’t want you running off after him and having your heart broken all over again.” He squeezes my arms in a comforting gesture, then rubs his hands up and down them.
Ryn is right. The man isn’t my father. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know who the hell he is and why he can’t use his own damn form to get around in. I take a deep breath, bring my heel down hard on Ryn’s foot, and tear out of his grasp.
“Violet, stop!”
But I’m already sprinting across the grass after the shadowy figure of the man. He runs down a hill, leaps over the cushioned chairs in the small blossom-laden pavilion we had tea beneath earlier, and heads into a copse of trees. I rush after him, but I realize once I’m surrounded by trees that there’s no path to follow, and I can’t see him anymore.
“Where are you?” I shout. “What are you afraid of? Come out and face me, you two-faced shapeshifter!” I search the darkness, twisting around as I weave through the trees to make sure I don’t miss a single shadow or movement. But when I reach the other side of the copse, I’ve found no one. The palace grounds spread out around me, still and quiet. He can’t have disappeared through the faerie paths because doorways can’t be opened here at the Seelie Court. So he must be really good at hiding. And running.
My hands are shaking. I ball them into fists as I stomp back through the trees, across the grass, and up the hill. I wish I’d never seen him. Yes, it’s suspicious that there’s a guy running around pretending to be my father, but if I hadn’t seen him, I wouldn’t have all these memories swimming painfully to the front of my mind. I’d be happy and ignorant on my own little exploration mission instead of feeling like—oh hell—like I just lost him all over again.
I find myself standing in front of my bedroom door blinking tears away. I place my hand against the wall and take a deep, shuddering breath. All the pain I felt when he died is threatening to resurface, and I do not want that. I didn’t want to feel it then, and I don’t want to feel it now.
I open the door and see Ryn sitting on the edge of my bed. I cross my arms over my chest as he stands. “He got away because you wouldn’t let me go.” My voice is quiet, but I can hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. Half an hour ago I wanted to do stupid things like run my finger over Ryn’s lips. Now I don’t even want to look at him.
“I was just trying to get you to think sensibly for a moment.”
“I hate you right now.”
“No, you don’t.”
I don’t, but I hate that he’s so sure of himself. I hate that he’s right. I look down at the floor as I say, “I’d like you to leave now.”
He comes toward me. “Please don’t shut me out, V. I want to be here for you.”
I hold my hand up to stop him from coming closer. “There’s no need for you to be here. Okay, so there’s some random guy out there pretending to be my father, and I don’t know why. But that’s all it is. No big deal. It’s not like someone just died.”
Oh hell, oh hell, it is like he just died all over again. A sharp pain stabs the core of my being and threatens to make me double over.
“Stop lying, Violet. I know that’s not what you’re feeling, so why don’t you just say what’s really going on in your head.”
“What are you, my freaking counselor?” I back away from him, tightening my arms around my middle. “I won’t talk to Tora about my feelings, and I sure as hell won’t talk to you either.”
“Fine, don’t talk to anyone, but at least admit you’re feeling something instead of going on about how it’s no big deal.”
“I am feeling something! I’m pissed off at you!”
“And?”
“And get out!” I point to the open door.
“No.”
“GET OUT!”
He walks over and slams the door shut. “No. I won’t leave you alone like this.”
“Yes you will! Don’t you get it? Everyone leaves. My mother, Reed, Cecy, you, my father—and you will leave me again! I’ve been stupid enough to allow myself to care about Tora, but that is it. So you need to leave now. Go!”
He shakes his head.
“I said GET OUT, Ryn!” I shove him hard toward the door, and when he still makes no move to leave, I start pummeling his chest with my fists.
He grabs my wrists and holds my arms away from his body while I do my best to hit him some more. Why isn’t he fighting back, dammit? “That’s more like it,” he says, as though this is the kind of reaction he was hoping for all along.
Furious, I tear my arms out of his grasp. After one last shove at his chest, I cross the room to the en-suite bathing room and shut myself inside. The tears are already falling as I drop down onto the enchanted grass beside the pool and bury my head in my hands. A tremor passes through me
. My throat burns. Sobs begin to shake my body.
My father. It looked just like him. He was standing right in front of me, so close he could have enveloped me in his warm, strong embrace, the way he used to when I was afraid of a storm or when the children at school had been mean to me.
But it wasn’t him. He’s still dead.
And right now I miss him so much.
“Violet?”
Ugh, why is Ryn still here? Why didn’t I lock the door? I curl further into myself, wrapping my arms around my waist and hoping Ryn will be scared away by the tears. Boys don’t like crying girls, right? This should be his cue to leave.
Instead, I feel him kneel down beside me. “I wasn’t there for you when it actually happened,” he says quietly. “Why can’t you let me be here for you now?”
I don’t cry in front of people. I don’t, I don’t, I don’t. Yet here I am, violating my own rules.
“Okay, well, you’re not hitting me anymore, so I’ll take that as a good sign.”
No. No more hitting. But I can’t stop crying, and I can’t see anything except for the blurry outline of my fingers in front of my face. What exactly does Ryn plan to do? Sit here until I cry myself out? If he’s still hoping I’ll open up and spill every thought and feeling torturing me, he’s going to be waiting a long time.
“I’m sorry, V,” Ryn says. “When the Unseelie Queen locked us up inside my head and I came face to face with Reed, it really messed with my head. I can imagine seeing your dad must be doing the same thing to you.”
Messed with my head. That’s one way of putting it.
I feel Ryn’s body shift closer to mine. His arm slides around my shoulders. I suppose he’s waiting to see whether I’ll jerk away and punch him in the face because after a few moments of sitting frozen in the same position, he wraps his other arm around me and pulls me gently against his chest.
