Wicked Court: A Noblesse Oblige Duet Book One

by Sage, May

  "Really?" He rolls his eyes. "You're terrible for a man's ego, you know."

  "Your ego doesn't need stroking."

  He smiles. "I'm going to be gallant, and refrain from saying the millions of retorts that have suddenly burst into my mind, princess."

  His silliness manages to exhort one short laugh from me.

  Then I remember the screams. I remember the feeling of invincibility when I'd sucked on the immortals—on my grandfather.

  I remember I liked it.

  Drusk leans forward on the polished wooden beam painted black, watching the dark river below. "Do you think there are selkies, this far from the sea?"

  "Probably not. Kappas and nokks, maybe, though they know to stay away from a kul's ship."

  He glances back at me. "How did you manage to get a favor from him?"

  I shrug. "He's fond of hats, and doesn't like to go on land. Anyone could have made the trade, but merchants don't like to go on his ship—and he doesn't trust his crew to pick a good hat."

  Drusk blinks. "The salvation of the court was due to a hat trade?"

  Smiling is a little easier now. "I spent most of my money on a book, just a few weeks ago. Who are we to judge what others love?"

  "And you love books." That seems to surprise him.

  I don't hear any scorn, so I reply. "I guess. It might have been that book in particular. I think I love making bargains, more than anything else."

  At least, I used to.

  Now, all I can think about—all I love—is raw power. Nothing else compares.

  "Make a bargain with me."

  Drusk has managed to surprise me again. I frown. "About what?"

  "I don't know. Anything. What would you want from me, princess?" It's the second time he's asked me that, and fifty years ago, I had no clue what to answer.

  Some things haven't changed, after all.

  "That's not how it works. If you want to bargain, tell me what you're after, so I can find a boon of equal value. Should I heal your wings?"

  I don’t think the energy I shot him with earlier would have been enough to completely mend broken wings.

  I should have offered weeks ago, but I hadn't. While I never voiced why, I knew the reason. He'd said he was supposed to return to his post when he was better—and he didn't want to.

  I'll bet that's why he hadn't asked either.

  "They're fine," he replies, looking up to the sky. "They have been for some time. I was scheduled to get back to the army in a few days."

  I try not to feel wounded that he hadn't thought to mention it until now. It felt like something we might have discussed yesterday.

  I shake the disappointment. We aren't friends. He owes me nothing but a promise.

  "I want you to tell me what happened a month ago," he says, his intense dark blue eyes, so like the sky, now fully focused on me.

  I'm confused. "A month ago?"

  "When my company was attacked. I wasn't just attacked. I wasn't just wounded. I died, Vlari. I could feel myself leave this world. There was nothing, no pain, no light—just darkness. Then I saw you, right in front of me, and I was back. In pieces, broken wings and all, but back all the same. Everyone else was dead around me. When I told my captain, they sent me straight to the king consort, who made me swear—"

  "Not to tell a soul," I guessed. "Not to tell the queen."

  The night I'd awoken after using so much magic the queen's men felt it—without realizing I had.

  Keep your heart much closer to your chest.

  Alven had known what I'd done—though I hadn't. I think back to the flower in my back. A mourning mark I'd not understood.

  My heart speeds in my chest, thundering, as I finally connect the dots. My mouth hangs open.

  "How did you do it? Why?" Drusk's voice is gentle at first, but the last word has another note; an edge of despair.

  And I know. I know why I saved him. I know why I could always find him—why my soul had recognized him before I'd even set my eyes on him, the very first time we met. Why he alone, not the voice of reason, not the screams of my kin, had pulled me out of the darkness earlier.

  Drusk was mine.

  Against all logic or odds, rare as they are, fate has given me a soulmate, with a strength to match mine and more kindness.

  I grin. "Oh, no. You'll have to figure that one out yourself."

  He sighs. "That's not fair."

  "Who told you I was fair?"

  Grogan gives orders to dock the ship in the harbor. In the distance, I see torches and fairy lights; some of the courts have made it here, at least.

  I'm too impatient to wait; I leap to the shores, and run all the way to the school.

  Nero and Ciera are the first to greet me—they aren't in a better state than me, covered in human blood. My father hugs me, and my mother kisses the top of my head.

  Someone clears their throat; I smile down at my grandmother, who stays at a distance, no doubt for fear of signs of affection.

  I know better than to try to get a kiss or hug from her.

  Behind them, some of the knights guarding Whitecroft stand guard, stiff and formal. I eye them with approval.

  "How did it go?"

  "We had to drag her away from the humans." Nero sighed, helplessly. "She was cutting her way through most of them, but they outnumbered us. We did what you asked."

  I smile gratefully. "Did the other courts make it?"

  "Storm, Silt, and Stars are here, so far. We were all attacked at the same time. Stone and Ashes are on their way. We haven't heard from Ichor."

  That's more than what I hoped for. "I take it you have a plan? We have a better chance standing together, but if the Álfheimr forces were strong enough to take the courts separately, they might cut through us."

  "They won't have a chance. Come. I don't wish to repeat myself."

  I walk the familiar drafty halls, heading to the headmistress's office, fairly certain that the lords have chosen to retreat to the most luxurious chamber in the building.

  Lera Frost and her husband Genrion are huddled in an armchair, near the roaring fireplace; their son Wilden chats with Dekren Thorn. The head of the Thorn family has taken a seat on the headmistress's chair, behind the desk. To my relief, both Sylph and Esea are here. I smile at my friend, glad to see her safe.

  I have seen the other lords in passing, but I'm not overly familiar with any of them.

  They all rise as we enter the room.

  I don't let my discomfort show.

  "My ladies. Is it true, then? Is the queen gone?"

  I nod.

  "I heard something else." Vikro Thorn narrows his eyes. "I heard you brought some lords back to life. Is it true you wield this power?"

  To that, I make no response, heading to the fire. I reach out, warming my hands.

  "Then why didn't you bring the queen back! We're under attack! We need her strength to keep together."

  "Sir." My voice cuts through his tirade, coated with all of my power, hitting like a whip.

  Angering me isn't wise. Not today.

  Never again.

  "You're standing before your queen. When you ought to be kneeling."

  I turn back to him, staring him down, despite my small stature and his great height.

  The entire room watches me, various degrees of shock registering in their gaping mouths and wide eyes.

  There's nothing but silence. As they stare at me, I feel the current in the room. I feel the air and the earth under my feet respond to my command.

  I feel that the land has recognized my claim, and so have they.

  I turn back to the fire. "I meant my mother, Genrion."

  I am in no position to hold the crown.

  I cannot lead them well when everything in me wants to succumb to darkness, to take lives. Lives of folk, and men, and gods.

  Like Nyx, I desire to protect Tenebris.

  That includes protecting them from me.

  "Lord Thorn meant no disrespect, my lady. We wer
e unaware that Void had returned. And if indeed—"

  I hear others enter the room; more lords, alight from the boats. I close my eyes, willing my strength to stay with me just a little longer. Then, I speak.

  "I let the hag die because I wanted to, and because I could. I brought the court back to life because I wanted to, and because I could. Controlling me will never be within your abilities, my lords. Now, if we could move on to more pressing matters."

  I ask about each court—the number of folk they've brought with them or left behind. Which of them can fight.

  I estimate that half of Tenebris is with us. Some of those dwelling in the north fled to the seelie lands; in the south, others asked for asylum from the Sea Lands. In the west, a few have gone to Mithgarth.

  "We need to send scouts to learn the extent of the human army—and how many immortals are with them," I say. "And in the meantime, we ward Whitecroft."

  They exchange glances, either unsure about taking orders from me, or doubting the viability of my plan.

  "Whitecroft is the intersection of Nyx's ley lines. The power of all courts converges right here. We can use it to shape our wards into impenetrable walls. The Álfheimran might raid, and destroy our land, but as long as we're all here, we can prepare. Wait. And when we're ready, retake Tenebris."

  There is a problem with this plan; it will work considerably less without the other courts. Stone, Ashes, and Ichor have to make it before we close the wards.

  Before Kraver finds us and sends his army in earnest.

  "That could work," General Frost says, somewhat reluctantly. "Though maintaining a ward like that will take a considerable amount of energy."

  I close my eyes, feeling the strength of the gods I've stolen. The strength of a thousand fae.

  "That won't be a problem."

  Sleeping Beauty

  Unlike one certain infuriating princess, I help the crew land the ship before returning to Whitecroft. Then, when folk and gentry from other courts arrive by land and water, I help them too, carrying wounded through the hall to lead them to the infirmary.

  The walls feel smaller than they did back when I'd been a student here, for a mere six years. Six good years. Some of the best, frustrating as they might have been.

  I'm stunned into place, spotting familiar faces in the crowd gathered in the courtyard.

  My little sister is the first to spot me. "Rystan!"

  She drops the pegs she'd been holding to help Ma put up a tent, and runs to hug me. I hug her right back, numb. I hadn't let myself hope, or even think of them, for fear of giving into despair, but they're all here, along with hundreds upon hundreds of folk.

  Not just the gentry; sprites and imps and brownies and hobs swarm around us, mingling with the wilder, more dangerous of us. I spot a white lady, and shiver.

  At least they'll be useful in the battle to come.

  As my family fusses over me, forcing a bowl of broth in my hands and a blanket over my shoulders, I try to look for Vlari.

  I usually try to look for Vlari, if I have any reason to believe she's near.

  I can't find her.

  I try to focus on my family, asking about their escape, but my mind is on a delicate, tiny, sassy, and fierce princess.

  "We heard the court sound the alarm bells in the distance, but we were so far." My father sighs. "I was about to lead the family east when a pixie covered in blood found us. She told us to go with her, and, well, I wasn't about to argue with that."

  My sister giggles. "Mera looks feral! She's amazing."

  Count on my sister to admire brutality. We are definitely related.

  "And the pixie brought you here."

  They nod. I am rather bewildered, given that I know no pixie; I can't think of why one might have helped my family. I'm grateful all the same.

  I can wonder about it tomorrow.

  Right now, I need to sleep—and find Vlari.

  Not necessarily in that order.

  I struggle to keep my eyes open, but when a burst of light flashes through the sky, cloistering us in a sphere of bright energy, I stand to attention, recognizing the energy signature behind that magic.

  Whatever it is, it comes from Vlari, of that much I am sure.

  Sleep is the least of my concern now.

  "I have to—I'll be back."

  I leave my baffled family to rush inside the school, toward the source of the magic. It's shooting upward from the inside of the building, and covering the school—the entire ground.

  Wards.

  Wards so powerful they feel like physical walls of energy, pulsing with life.

  I practically trip, walking so fast I run right into Alven.

  I don't even think to apologize. "Where is she?"

  The king consort—former king consort—smiles at me. I don't understand why it looks so sad.

  "Calm down. You can go in, in a few moments."

  "Where is she?" I repeat.

  This time, it sounds like a threat.

  Alven is no useless sprite. Not only does he outrank me, he's also ten times my age; there's a chance that if we fight, he'll wipe my face on the marble floor. Especially now. I'm too tired for a brawl.

  I'll still punch him, if he doesn't answer.

  I don't quite understand my urgency, but I feel like something fundamental is wrong.

  My family is safe. We're all safe.

  Why does it seem like we lost?

  I lost.

  "Right here," he said, pointing inside the professors' dining hall. I'd snuck in there a time or two to steal wine and fairy fruits.

  I move to enter, but he holds my arm. "Patience. The queen's with her, now."

  The queen.

  Her mother, I glean.

  Vlari is chatting with her mother. That is all. I shouldn't be this agitated.

  But I can't calm down, whatever I tell myself. For one, I can hear no words. I can hear nothing at all.

  Four heartbeats; three strong, the other one, slow and weak.

  Vlari's presence is there, there’s no mistaking it.

  But it feels wrong.

  So wrong.

  Finally, footsteps approach.

  The queen is the first to come out, her beautiful face wet with tears. Then comes her husband and mate—the common fae I'd chatted with when I picked up Vlari.

  Had that just been last night? It feels like a thousand years have passed since.

  He is crying too.

  The last to exit is a pixie, unfamiliar, unlike the rest of them. No tears from her, but her eyes look like they might set fire to heaven itself.

  A fierce pixie.

  I stare at her, my mind starting to connect the dots.

  Vlari hadn't just written a word to her family—unlike the rest of the courts. She'd sent a few words. I'd taken it for sentimentality.

  She'd sent her after my people.

  Where was she?

  The queen stops right in front of me. She's almost as tall as me, standing far above her husband.

  It occurs to me that I should kneel, or at least bow my head.

  Before I can attempt either, she stretches her elegant hand and touches my shoulder. Then she attempts a smile through the tears.

  I stumble away, toward the door.

  Pushing it open, I freeze. My very blood freezes.

  Vlari's lying on a bed, eyes closed, as though in a deep sleep, her loose, dark hair falling to the floor. There’s something at her feet; a fur, I think at first, but I see it rise and fall steadily along with her heart. A wyr, black as night, wrapped in shadow, curled up to keep her feet warm.

  I only have to see her to understand there is no waking her. No amount of shaking or screaming her name will work.

  She is under a curse of her own.

  "What has she done?"

  I don't recognize my voice. I don't recognize myself at all.

  "What needed to be done. We'll be safe here, as long as it takes."

  I watch helplessly, not attempting
a word, a step. I can't. I can't. I can't.

  I should have died tonight. I should have died a month ago. It would have hurt less than this.

  "She's gone," I say.

  Her life isn't extinguished, but there is no waking from curses such as these. North of here, in the wilderness, a prince has been asleep for a thousand years, guarding his mountains.

  Alven shakes his head. "No, she's very much here. Her consciousness remains with us. There's more strength in her than in any one of us combined. She can wake herself, as long as she does so before her mind falls to the darkness."

  I force myself to look away from the sleeping princess, and face the old king. "How long?"

  I don't need to elaborate.

  "It depends on her strength, and on her desire to hold on. Thankfully, in her case, we have a physical indication as to the state of her magic."

  I look at the long hair sprawled on the bed; dark like heart's blood, rather than silver-gray, as it had always been, for as long as I've known her.

  "When her hair is back to normal—" I don't finish the thought.

  Alven is less kind. "She'll be too weak to come back." He repeats, "She's given us what we need. Time to regroup."

  At what price?

  All of us, the seven courts, for her life.

  It seems like a fair bargain. I'm not surprised she's taken it.

  I hate her for it.

  I hate her with all my heart.

  And I'll hate her a thousand times more if she lets herself die.

  I turn back without entering the room.

  "Drusk—"

  I cut Alven off. "If anyone's looking for me, I'll be training the folk."

  Epilogue

  The girl ran as fast as her bare feet could carry her, without daring to look back. She could hear her pursuers closing in, laughing as they chased her. It was a game to them.

  Another arrow flew past her ear, drawing a line of blood.

  So, so close. To death and salvation both.

  She saw the dome of light in the distance.

  She'd never been there, but she knew it. All the folk knew it.

  Before she was born, years ago, there was a battle, and a curse, and a princess.

  It sounded like a fairy tale, but she believed. She had to believe. If she didn't, she'd just curl up and let the huntsmen kill her and cut off her ears, like they did to all the folk they could get to.