by Elena Lawson
When I asked the council why there were no open lines of communication between courts, they said it was because the Fae of the Day Court lived like savages. They fought to the death for entertainment and took more than one mate. The denizens of the Day Court danced naked under the moon and drank to the sun. They were devious and not to be trusted. Maybe that way of life was strange—foreign. But to them, our way of life could seem just as strange.
Then there was the presentation of other matters that needed attention, like invitations to the Solstice Ball, and a disturbance in a northern village that ended with the disappearance of two Fae nobles, a male, and a female. It was all so trivial, and if I was being honest, a total bore. I didn’t care who came to the ball or didn’t, and it was obvious the two nobles had simply run off together, considering their homes were empty.
“You did what?” Thana asked, aghast when I returned to my chambers to find her awake and explained what I’d done.
“I didn’t trust Ronan, so, I fixed it. And I want to know more about the Day Court, and why everyone thinks they’re at fault for Enya’s assassination, so, I found a way to learn more,” I shook my head in exasperation. It had been a long night and soon, the sun would rise. I couldn’t handle another interrogation, “Isn’t that what you told me to do? Surround myself with people I trust? To learn quickly? And to trust my own judgment?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Please, Thana, tell me you support my decision.” I needed at least one person to understand. I wasn’t raised at court. I didn’t have the same prejudices as the others or the same way of thinking. I knew no one. I was all alone in the palace save for Thana, and I needed her on my side.
She took a long, exaggerated breath, “I support you, Liana. I always will.” She came forward to wrap me in a hug, “Even if I think you’ve lost your mind.”
I laughed against her shoulder, “Thank you.”
“Now,” she exhaled, pulling away, “On a less somber note, there’s a tailor waiting in the parlor to take your measurements.”
I scrunched my eyebrows, “What for?”
A slight roll of her eyes told me I should already know, but my mind was foggy and filled with longing for my bed, “For your gown.” She threw her arms up when I still didn’t understand what she was on about, “For your Blessing Ceremony. It’s in two days, Liana, or had you forgotten?”
“Oh.”
“Oh?’” She took my arm to pull me towards the parlor, “Honestly, Liana, it’s one of the most important days of your life, how could you forget?”
And she was right, it was an important day. And I had forgotten. In two days my ancestors would decide which of the Graces to bestow me with—if they Graced me with anything at all. They have to, I thought, because, without a Grace, I could never keep my throne.
“Ah, there she is!” a short male squealed as we entered the parlor, rising from his seat on one of the oversized settees. “Such beauty!” he exclaimed, taking my hand in his and twirling me around. I was so taken aback that I nearly fell on my face when he released me. The male bent to one knee in an exaggerated bow and righted his ornate green and gold tunic, which matched the coloring of his squinty eyes, “My name is Darius, majesty, and I’m honored to be your tailor,” and then to Thana, “Lovely to see you again, my darling, it’s been some time.”
“Darius,” Thana said by way of greeting with a nod.
“A pleasure to meet you, Darius. Thank you for coming on what I’m sure was very short notice.”
The tailor wasped the thought away with a flick of his hand, “I heard you were with the council almost the whole night through, so we’ll make fast work of this.”
“Word travels fast.”
Darius helped me to stand atop a small pedestal, pulling several things from a leather case near my feet, “Oh yes, majesty. Nosey bunch here at court, be careful who your trust, and who you confide in.”
“I shall,” I told him, helping him remove my skirts and corset to get a better measurement.
A small sound drew my attention to the doorway, and I turned to find Alaric there, staring at my all but bare backside, a slight blush crawling its way up his neck. Of course, he would need to be present when someone entered by chambers. For safety. And I had to admit, I enjoyed the way he watched me, with something like admiration painting his otherwise stoic features.
“Alaric, have you chosen your sentries for my Royal Guard?”
He cleared his throat, “Yes, majesty. I’ve sent riders to notify them. They should arrive by this evening for your approval.”
“Good. You can station them to guard the royal chambers and retire to the captain’s quarters this evening when they arrive, Ronan’s things should be removed by then. You need your rest, captain.”
He nodded.
The tailor scribbled several numbers down in a leather-bound journal before rising, hands on his hips, “Now, the traditional style of gown for a Blessing Ceremony is white—very conservative,” he said with a tight-lipped smile, “But are there any particular fabrics or embellishments you’d like added?”
I thought about it for a moment, taking in the ghastly white room around me, imagining the same dull shade draped around me, cloying at my neckline, and all the way down to my wrists. Ugh. “I won’t wear a white gown. Or anything too constricting. I’ll let you decide the color and the style.”
“Liana, the noble families will think it an insult to tradition if you wear anything but white,” Thana tsked from her perch on the arm of the settee.
I gave her a mischievous grin, earning myself one of her exasperated sighs, then I told her, “You of all people should know, I’m not traditional.”
It could have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I heard Alaric chuckle.
“Praise the gods! A queen with a mind of her own. It will be my pleasure to craft for you a gown that breaks tradition.”
Chapter Six
The official farewell to the fallen queen took place before we arrived. Alaric wasn’t exaggerating when he told me how covered her tomb was in offerings. Deep below the palace, in the cavernous catacombs lay my mother, in a coffin of polished gray stone. Hundreds of softly flickering candles surrounded the raised platform, along with thousands of white flowers—each enchanted by the those Graced in earth and fire, so the candles would never burn out, and the flowers, never wilt.
My being there was a formality. They expected for me to grieve her loss, and to lay an offering of my own on her tomb. When Thana asked me if she should summon a Graced noble to enchant my offering, I told her it wasn’t necessary.
The air in the catacombs was cold and thick with moisture and the unpleasant odor of mold. Alaric unclasped his cloak and draped it over my shoulders, “Are you alright, majesty?” he asked, true concern flitting into and out of his gaze.
“Yes. Fine.” I told him. He likely thought it was sadness that made my jaw clench and my hands ball into fists. Good, let him think that. Because the truth was ugly. I hated her. I was angry. Upset she never gave me the chance to know her.
She left me to rot on that island my entire mortal life, never once coming to see me, or even sending a letter. All for my protection. All because once, a very long time ago, her first-born child was taken from her, found dead beyond the line separating the Night Court from the Wastes. Perhaps it was that she couldn’t stand the sight of me, only bearing me so that her line could someday continue. Either way, she was no mother of mine.
With barely concealed restraint, I pulled my offering from the concealed pocket of my gown and placed it at the center of her tomb.
Thana gasped. Alaric stiffened. I knew what they would think, but I didn’t care. It was customary to leave flowers, or a candle, for someone you mourned—someone you would miss. But I would do neither of those things.
The ashen gray pebble looked out of place among the flowers and flames. I chose one small enough to carry, but not so small it wouldn’t be noticed, from the shore w
here I spent my childhood skipping stones. It was her death that set me free, and now, it was her turn to be trapped in stone.
That evening, Thana retired to her chamber early, saying she had enough excitement for one day. For me, the thought of sleep flitted away sometime ago, my body and mind wired from days spent with so much, well, everything. So many people. So many sights, sounds, smells. I was high on the effect of it all.
Alaric stood guard as the servants laid the table with more food than I’d ever seen in my life, only relaxing his strained posture after the royal taster, a pretty female whose name I’d already forgotten tasted each of the dishes.
“Join me,” I asked more than ordered him as the servants left. “There’s enough here to feed the entire Horde.”
He pulled a chair from against the wall and set it to my right, “Yes, majesty.”
“Liana,” I corrected him, “There’s no one else here, we can drop the formalities.”
He relaxed into the chair, “Forgive me for saying this Liana, but you’re unlike any female I’ve ever met. And certainly not what I was expecting.”
I filled my plate with roast meats and some sort of fruit that was the richest color of red I’d ever seen, smirking, I asked him, “And what did you expect?”
Alaric filled his own plate with a monstrous helping from each platter, smiled, “I don’t know, maybe for you to be more…”
“More queenly?”
He chuckled, and I stopped mid chew to admire the dimples in his cheeks. He was a fine male. I couldn’t find a single flaw in his face. “Yes, that. Exactly that.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I teased, pouring both myself and him wine from an ivory pitcher.
I was about to ask him if he’d heard anything about the Day Court emissary’s arrival. The Queen of the Day Court had not only accepted the invitation, but hand selected someone to attend my Blessing Ceremony—when a servant entered the room, unable to hide her surprise at finding Alaric seated at my table, “Your sentries have arrived, captain. Should I tell them to wait outside?”
Alaric moved to stand, but it was me who answered, “Send them in.”
The servant bowed and left the room. Alaric busied himself brushing crumbs from his leather armor, his lips firmly sealed.
I heard them before I saw them and knew straight away who he’d selected. Pushing myself from the table, I stood to greet the winged twins as they barged into the room.
“Hello again,” I said, pushing my hair back behind my shoulders.
Alaric came to stand at my side, leaning in close to my ear, “I know I said they were trouble-makers, but they’re loyal, and two of the best fighters I commanded. I can… choose others if you’d like.”
“Trying to get rid of us already?” one drawled, a brow raised. He took my hand, planting a warm kiss on the back. “Your Majesty, we’ll protect you with our lives.”
“We are at your service,” the other added, his tone serious and voice deep. I shivered. Protection was great and all, but what about other kinds of service… Stop it, Liana!
Alaric pulled my hand from the twin who still held it, “Enough, you two. She still hasn’t appro—”
“I approve.” I couldn’t help it, I was beaming at them.
“The council has petitioned to select the other two sentries,” Alaric said, “But, of course, you will have the final say.”
I nodded, unable to wipe the smile from my face. Kade was the one who had kissed my hand, and Finn was the other. I could find nothing to physically to tell them apart—but where Finn was calm and cool, with a pensive stare and steady eyes, Kade was the opposite. He had an aloofness, and a crooked mischievous smile that made me want to break all the rules.
They were known as trouble-makers, and I bet they knew how to have fun. I was looking forward to knowing what that would be like.
Maybe they can teach me.
I turned back to the table, pouring two more chalices with wine, “A toast,” I announced, “To the Captain of the Royal Guard and his sentries.”
The twins needed no coercion and took the chalices from my outstretched hands.
“And to Liana, the Queen of the Night Court,” Alaric said, lifting his own chalice from the table and handing me mine, “Long may she reign.”
“Long may she reign,” Kade and Finn echoed.
I tipped the contents of my chalice back, savoring the tart sweetness as it slid down my throat and warmed my insides. I knew that flavor, even concealed as it was in the wine.
“No!” I shouted, lunging to knock the chalice from Alaric’s hand, it’s contents pitching onto the white rug. “Stop, don’t drink it!” I shouted again before either of the twins could do more than wet their lips. “Spit it out,” I ordered.
“Your Majesty?” Alaric’s eyes widened, and his face drained of color, “What is it?”
The pain began in my stomach, reaching its burning claws up the back of my neck, causing a thunderous ache in my head. I swayed. Kade caught me, his strong arms curling around my shoulders. Finn and Alaric raced to my side. “Verbane,” I choked out.
“Finn, go get a healer, now!” Finn charged to the balcony as opposed to the door and I watched as he spread his great black wings. They were magnificent, strong, and unlike anything I’d ever beheld.
“Wait,” I called to him, earning myself confused looks from the threesome. The pain already subsiding to a tolerable level, I told them, using Kade as a crutch to get back to my feet, “It won’t kill me. It’s just… uncomfortable.”
“But, Liana, the poison—”
I shook my head, “I’ve been eating verbane berries since I was a child. I’m all but immune to its effect.”
The three of them shared a look, Finn not moving from his place at the balcony’s edge.
“That is incredibly smart, majesty,” Kade said, leaning in, one arm still braced at the small of my back. His breath caressed my neck, raising the small hairs there. He smelled of spice and something akin to the forest on a hot day. Intoxicating.
I could have told them it wasn’t purposely done, that I was a stubborn child who liked the tart sweetness and nothing more, but I kept my mouth shut instead. Let them think I was smart and cunning, perhaps one day, I would be.
Alaric blew out a strained breath, the color returning to his face, “Indeed,” he agreed with Kade, “But we should send for the healer anyway, if only to ease your discomfort.”
“No,” I stated, “I will not give the person to blame for this the satisfaction of knowing they succeeded.”
Finn nodded his agreement, striding to where I now stood, legs still not steady enough to stand on my own, “She’s right,” he said, “The walls of this palace have eyes and ears. The denizens of the Night Court shouldn’t know what happened here.”
“The taster,” Kade said, his hand now rubbing soothing circles into my back, setting my nerve-endings ablaze, “We should—”
Alaric lifted me into his arms, taking me from a jealous looking Kade. I wrapped my arms around his neck, relishing in his musky vanilla scent. He strode from the room, his face set in stone.
Before we entered my chamber, he called back, “Find the taster. If she isn’t dead, follow her. She could lead us to the person responsible.”
Chapter Seven
I didn’t tell Thana what happened the night before. She would only be sick with worry. I let her putter about my chamber, commenting on the late morning hour and how I had to get out of bed. There were things to do, apparently. My Blessing Ceremony was the following day, and I had yet to decide what I would like for the feast that followed.
“The cooks need notice for these things, you know. They can’t conjure food from thin air.”
Alaric bit back a laugh, causing Thana to tremble with frustration, “And what did I tell you,” she chastised, “He should not be allowed to enter your bedchamber, it’s—it’s…”
“Improper?” I finished for her, with a quirk of my brow.
Tha
na shook her head.
Alaric hadn’t left my chamber since the night before, standing diligent guard over me while I slept off the poison still setting my veins ablaze. It had been strong. The verbane must’ve been distilled to increase its potency. I was only sick once in the night, and Alaric was there, holding my hair as I wretched into the ornate basin. Though I felt as though I’d spent the eve drinking Thana’s store of wine as I had when I was still mortal, I was trying to maintain a façade of strength. If only to ease the lines of worry still carved around his eyes.
“Improper,” Thana mimicked, “Indeed!”
I threw back the covers, hauling myself from their warm embrace, “Then you’ll speak of it to no one, will you?”
She huffed, tossing me a robe that I took my time wrapping around myself, “And raise even more questions from the nobles than you already have? I think not.”
“Good.”
Thana tossed a simple lilac gown into my arms, turning to leave the room, “Dress yourself,” she said with a hint of bitterness, “The cooks are waiting for instruction. I’ll tell them to make what they please since you have no opinion on the matter.”
Alaric crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching Thana leave the room, “Why do you allow her to speak to you in such a way?”
I hadn’t ever considered I had any say in the way she spoke to me. It was how she was, and I had grown accustomed to her temperament, had grown to love her more for it. Thana would always say what she meant, without worry about the repercussions. In that way, she was of great value—even if she could be the most vexing creature I’d known—I wouldn’t change a thing about her. She was the closest thing to a mother I would ever know.
“If you knew what I put her through as a child, you’d be more surprised she didn’t simply drown me and be done with it.”
