by Mila Young
Please, no! I raise my wounded hand, needing to get out of here fast. I give a quick blow over my palm, concentrating on my room in the mansion, yet not a single spark of energy comes. The more I try, the more I start trembling. This is the worst-case scenario, being taken to a random place. Sure, I escaped the dungeon, but where in the world did I land instead?
Wasting no time, I swing toward the black, wooden door and quickly grasp the handle…
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” a female's voice sweeps around me from behind.
My shoulder muscles bunch up, and I turn around swiftly.
Several feet away stands a jaw-droppingly beautiful woman who looks so familiar. She's older, maybe in her mid- to late forties, long blonde hair falling over her shoulders in soft curls. Delicate round face with the bluest eyes, pale lashes and deep red lips. She's slightly taller than me, curvy, and wearing a teal gown that’s tight around her bust and billows outward like she has layers of fabric underneath. If there was ever an image of a perfect fairy tale princess, this woman was the epitome.
There's something quite familiar and calming about her.
“I-I think I've l-lost my way,” I say softly, playing the innocent card.
She looks at me from head to toe, then to the door.
“You came exactly where you needed to,” she answers. “The portal brought you here because this is your place.”
What is she talking about? Looking around the room for anything familiar, I find nothing, and outside all that's in view are snow-covered woods for as far as the eye can see. There are no mountains, which is strange, as I'm used to seeing them from the mansion windows.
“Who are you?” I ask. “What is this place?”
She steps toward me, and there's a daintiness in the way she saunters. She is a woman of higher standing, someone used to always appearing perfect. I've seen the princes' mother, so I know it’s not her.
But why is this woman locked in a room?
“Come with me.” She offers me her hand, palm upward, the tips of her fingers slightly curled.
I should be afraid, but the energy around her calms me. There's something about this woman that makes me want to curl up and listen to her tell me tales. And she seems to know more about me than I do.
So I reach out and place my hand with the bite on my wrist in hers.
In response, she rewards me with a beaming smile that I feel deep inside me, like she's the sun filling me with a strange tranquillity.
She guides me over to a window, both of us standing side by side, staring outside to where the morning sun is just peering up over her horizon.
Down below is a lofty stone wall surrounding the building, the grounds dotted in trees, and beyond the barrier lies a creek frozen over by winter. Then the forest explodes outward in every direction.
It takes me seconds to realize I've seen this place before. I've been here... and as the memory hits me, I gasp and pull my hand from hers, wincing with discomfort from the bite.
The yard below is exactly where Deimos and I first stepped out of a portal when he brought me to this realm.
I can't breathe.
I've teleported myself into Ash Court.
Fuck!
The woman smiles. “You remember, good. I watched you arrive that night from up here and have been keeping an eye on you ever since.”
“How?” My knees wobble. The last time I came here, the king's mother tried to kill me, and well, will this woman do the same?
“There is so much I have to tell you. We don't have a lot of time—no one must find you here.”
“Please tell me what's going on?” I hug myself.
She steps toward me, and I retreat.
“Let’s take a seat.” She waves for me to follow her back to the couch, where she sits and pats the seat beside her.
Not like I have many other options right now, and she hasn't threatened me, so I go and join her. She sits with her back straight, hands in her lap on the opposite end of the couch, facing me.
“I know who you are because I recognize the scent of your magic,” she says. “I always knew you were powerful, with abilities like opening portals, like affecting other fae’s abilities or vice versa. To me, you are beautiful, but your presence scares many others. You are a threat to them.”
I wait quietly for more information, taking it all in, eager for the punchline to understand how all this ties together.
“What I was forced into doing to you has destroyed me.” Her voice chokes. I don't even know this woman, but I lean closer and place a hand on her arm. She trembles under my touch.
“What do you mean?” I whisper, almost afraid to find out the truth.
She lifts my hand and kisses the back of my fingers tenderly. Not in a creepy way, but with a loving nature like I'd expect from a family member... a parent...
Then I see everything clearly, like a door has been opened in my mind.
The similarities I’m looking at are mine. The hair, the body shape, her tenderness. The agony that burns behind the gaze when she looks at me.
Tears prick my eyes. “Are you my mother?” My breath catches in my throat as her fingers tighten around mine.
“Leaving you in the care of the Women's Refuge on Earth was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I still haven't recovered.” Tears slip freely down her cheeks. “You were just a baby, and if I didn't hide you, my husband and his mother would have killed you.”
My head spins. I can't even respond at first from the shock of what I've just discovered. I try to hold myself strong, but my chin trembles. I shuffle closer, and she hugs me tight against her. I cry against her chest, and she's sniffling, both of us emotional wrecks. I always imagined laughing and smiling crazily when I finally met my parents, not crying.
But to discover I lost my father was devastating enough, and now... I found my mother. Is this why the portal brought me here when I asked for my room? It delivered me to where I belonged. To my mother.
Sorrow and unbelievable happiness twist inside me, tugging me in different directions until I don't know what I feel anymore.
I draw away from her and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, then remember her last words. “I'm confused by so many things. You say my father wanted me dead, yet—"
“I didn't say your father, but my husband. I am married to the king of the Unseelie in Ash Court, but I never loved him. It was a forced marriage to unite two powerful houses.”
“You’re the queen of Ash Court!” I gasp and blink at her, processing everything I'm learning. “And you had an affair with the king of Shadow Court?”
Fresh tears gleam over her eyes at the mention of my real father, and she nods. “I loved him, but there was no way we could ever be together. Seelie and Unseelie don't mix.”
I loathe that saying. I am a result of both, so I must be the most hated person in the world. I hold onto her arm and think how much it hurts to have Ahren taken from me, and I can see that same excruciating ache in my mother's eyes.
“Listen to me very carefully, Guendolyn.” She leans in closer. “You are more powerful than any of us. The fairy blood that runs through my mother's family bloodline is the purest, from the queen of fairies herself. It’s laid dormant in every generation since her demise, but when you were born, the fairies surrounded the castle in the hundreds of thousands, chanting the word Eirian.”
“Fairy queen,” I whisper.
“Yes, my little one. You carry the fairy queen's power inside your veins. It’s one of the reasons the king and his mother wanted you dead. Your power is too great. It's why the king's mother put a curse on you when you were born, unbeknownst to me. She made it so that if you did somehow come back to our realm, your presence in our kingdom would unleash hell on the Shadow Court. A fitting punishment to King Tibout, my husband would remind me.”
“So they knew you had an affair with the enemy king?”
She nods. “It’s why I've been living under constant security for m
ost of my life.”
There's so much information coming at me that I sit back and try to sort through it all. Things are starting to make sense now... like the fairies’ attraction to me, why everyone would hate me, and how I ended up on Earth.
“There’s something else you need to know,” she says.
“In all honesty, I don’t know how much more I can take.” With everything else that’s happened in Shadow Court, all this news is overwhelming.
She continues regardless, “The main reason most fae want you dead is because you are the one true heir to reign over both Ash and Shadow Courts.”
My mouth drops open.
She turns to me and grabs my arm tightly, her expression beyond serious. “King Tibout is gone. Before his son Ahren takes the throne, you need to claim that position and marry a royal quickly. Once you hold it, you will lay claim to the throne in Ash Court as well, meaning you can influence this court’s decisions while the king and I still rule here. Once one of us passes, then you can claim this throne with your king and reign both courts. You will bring them back into one kingdom as it once was. The other kingdoms in the realms will join as well.”
I'm shake my head. “What? You can’t die!”
“Hush.” She places a hand on my mouth. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited for this moment for too long, I’ve lost too much—but now is the time to strike.”
“I don't want the throne,” I whisper.
“It’s not about what you want, sweetie. This is the only way to stop the bloodshed between our courts, to end the deaths, to restore balance in our world.”
I swallow past the mountain in my throat, pondering her words, mostly considering my three fae. “What will become of the princes? Can I marry one to take the throne?”
She looks at me strangely and smirks. “Has one caught your eye?”
I smile too widely, unsure how to tell her that it's in fact all three. “Sort of.”
“To claim the throne, you must take someone royal as your king anyway, so yes.”
There's an explosion in my stomach of anticipation and excitement at what she tells me. I can marry Ahren!
But just as fast, doubt settles in me as I consider the enormity of what she is proposing. “I'm not sure this is going to work. Why would they believe me when King Tibout can’t back up my claim? And how does that unite the courts?” My knees are bouncing; I can't believe I’m even contemplating this. I barely understand fae customs, let alone know enough to rule. It's a joke to think that I could reign over anything when half the time I can't even control my own mouth.
“The answer is in your blood. Mages can test your bloodlines with magic—that is your evidence.”
The mention of mages makes my skin crawl, because there is no way Jasion will ever help me. But the king has other mages, so maybe I just need to get them on my side. My breaths are coming fast now, and I'm struggling to fill my lungs. Am I really thinking of trying to claim the throne?
I shouldn't feel guilty, though part of me wonders how Ahren will react to this. Me stepping in...
“Maybe this isn’t the best thing to do. I just want to fit in somewhere and have a normal life.”
My mother stares at me with sympathy and cups a hand over my cheek, rubbing my tears away. “The biggest mistake I made in my life was that I never fought for what I wanted. I let fear rule my decisions. As a result, I lost my daughter and the fae I loved. I don't want you to live with such regret. It eats away at you; it’s crippling. This is your chance to take what you want, to make a difference in a world that once tried to kill you just because you were different.” She gets to her feet and takes my hand. “It’s time to stand and show everyone who you really are.”
I don’t move at first but look at her, and the question swirling on my mind comes forward. “Did my father know about me?”
Her head lowers, but I catch the glint in her eyes before she whispers, “Yes. But he lost the chance to meet you.” Her soft, wavering voice breaks me. She moves across the room to a display cabinet and pulls a drawer open.
I’m on my feet and meet her as she turns around. Taking my good hand, she places a long, pink ribbon in my hand. The fabric is soft like silk under my fingers, and on one side my name is embroidered in white, repeatedly. Guen.
“Your father had this made especially for you and sent it to me, but you were already gone by then. I never told him it was too late; I couldn’t.” She covers my hand with hers, curling my fingers over the treasured ribbon. “I can now say I’ve kept my word to him.” She hastily wipes a loose tear from the corner of her eye, and the ache in my chest intensifies.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I spent time with him in Shadow Court, but I don’t think he knew it was me. He made me feel comfortable and welcome when we had the chance to speak.”
She reaches over and collects my cut hand, still embedded with shards of ruby, and places it between her two palms. “Sometimes, fate has a way of uniting those who are meant to cross paths, even if they don’t know it.”
Suddenly, her touch sends a flare of scorching heat up my arm.
I wince, and she lets me go. When I look at my hand, the cuts are all gone, and only dried blood remains. I glance up at her, bewildered.
“I have the power of healing and a few other tricks.”
So it’s her I gained my healing from. When I look at my hand again, I can’t help but wonder if she’s sealed the shattered pieces of the ruby inside my skin.
“Call your portal,” she says abruptly, her tone rushed. “There isn’t time to waste.”
“Wait, what about you?”
“The wedding is today,” she whispers, “so stop the marriage and claim what is yours. I will be fine. You coming here has been promised to me by the fated fairies, and everything will change from now on. You will see very soon.”
“There’s already been so much change,” I murmur.
“Quickly now, you must go and claim your true heritage. Nothing else matters.”
I have so many more questions for her, but she’s right. I need to stop Ahren from marrying someone else. I lift a shaky hand to my mouth and blow a breath, blue air misting outward past my lips. Return me to the Shadow Court in—
My words fade as the portal materializes before me within seconds. This has never gone so easily before. Is it the ruby inside me, or my mother's help?
“Go swiftly.” She nudges me in the back.
I stumble forward and cross the threshold into darkness.
Chapter 14
Deimos
“Have you seen Guen...Gainy?” I ask the twentieth staff member this morning, almost slipping up her name each and every single time.
The maid shakes her head, her gaze low. “Sorry, Your Highness, but I’ve asked around too, and no one has seen her since yesterday.”
I snap away from her and march down the hallway, then swing directly into her chamber again, but I don’t even know what I’m searching for, what could possibly indicate where she’s gone to.
Luther charges into the room behind me, and my heartbeat spikes with hope, with anticipation that he brings news.
But the devastation on his face sinks through me, dragging me to a horrible place where I imagine that she’s somewhere hurt. We never should have left her alone.
“Absolutely fucking nothing,” Luther growls. “We’ve searched the palace and mansion, along with the grounds and town. I can’t even reach her with my thoughts. Something’s blocking her off from me.”
I turn to my brother. “How did Ahren take it?”
Luther scoffs incredulously at my questions. “You think I’ll tell him on his wedding day that the girl he loves has gone missing? But I did ask him when he saw her last, and like everyone else, it was yesterday.”
I trudge over to the window, scanning the courtyard below for her long blonde hair, the adorable way she walks with a swing of her hips. I keep hoping I’ll spot her and that this is just some huge misunderstanding. “He ne
eds to know,” I murmur as I turn to Luther. “Ahren will murder us if we don’t tell him and she ends up hurt.” I swallow against the lead ball pressing into my throat.
Luther runs his hand through his hair like he does whenever he’s holding onto a secret. He’s easy to read like that, plus his gaze is miles away.
“What aren’t you telling me, brother?” I lean back against the couch, watching my brother, who stands several feet away by the window.
His head cocks up toward me. “Guendolyn healed Ahren’s wings.”
My eyes bulge. “That’s incredible! He should be in a great mood then.”
Luther’s face scrunches up as his mouth tugs to the side. “Not quite. He told Guendolyn about his marriage and why he can’t be with her. She ran away from him, and it’s the last he’s seen of her.”
“Fuck, Luther, you could have started with that! So it means she’s upset and maybe ran away to hide somewhere?”
Luther looks at me in disbelief like my suggestion is improbable. “She loves us,” he says. “She wouldn’t hide from us.”
“We weren’t here when she needed us most,” I remind him.
His deadpan stare tells me everything. Yeah, we had no say in going to meet Father, but this fucking sucks.
“Alright,” I state. “Where would someone devastated go?” Just saying those words out loud has my chest squeezing as I picture her somewhere alone and heartbroken. She needs to be in my arms where I can remind her she’s not alone and explain why Ahren is in a shitty situation that will haunt him his entire life. I just wish Ahren would have spoken to her earlier as he promised he would.
I curl my hands into fists. This isn’t how any of this is meant to play out. Luther and I had spoken about asking Guendolyn to marry us; we’d intended for the three of us to live in this mansion, making a new life together. It’s everything I want, but I know she hurts for Ahren. And that’s going to be a hard obstacle to overcome.
“We split up,” Luther begins. “And we do another sweep, keeping in mind we are searching for places she’d use to escape everyone.”
