by Mary Dublin
Tessa met Brennan's scowl unwaveringly. "Are you so determined to make my decisions for me? I want to be alone. To live alone!"
Brennan scoffed derisively, looking her up and down with a critical eye. "With your wings in that state and no magic to speak of? You won't live alone, you'll die alone."
"You're—you have no idea…" Tessa's hands flexed at her sides, and Daniel swore her fingers were shaking, as if yearning to unleash a spell.
She abandoned whatever she was going to say when Aveline sniffled and broke the silence. "You can't go, Tessa. I don't want you to die."
"I'm not going to," she hushed, sending Brennan a scathing look.
"But you're hurt!" Aveline insisted. "What if the bad people hurt you more?"
Tessa pursed her lips, eyes flickering between Daniel and Brennan. Clearly her and Aveline's definition of bad people didn't run on the same spectrum.
Esmae rose from her seat so quietly that Daniel didn't notice until she spoke up. "If you won't see healers, then I'm going to have to insist that you stay," she said with finality, something grim lining her features. "Surviving on one's own without wings or magic is something I cannot take lightly. I'm sorry. Once your wings are in proper order again… you're free to go where you please."
Tessa looked from Esmae to Daniel, as though he might come to a different conclusion. Indecision played on her face for a short time, and when he said not a word to protest the ruling, she wilted in defeat.
"Very well," she muttered.
Daniel cleared his throat softly, certain he could soften the blow. "Can I take you somewhere more comfortable? There's ample room elsewhere, if you'd prefer a space of your own."
Predictably, she shook her head fervently at the slightest lift of his fingers. "This is fine."
He didn't dare push his luck any further than that. Beckoning Avie into his arms, Daniel stood, backing away from Tessa's perch.
"I'll see about getting you something to eat," he promised. "Our chambers are private. The staff is under strict orders not to enter unless ordered to. You'll be safe here."
Tessa granted him a tight smile. Her wings wilted a little as she looked around the sitting area as though it was full of ghosts. She had agreed to stay, but Daniel felt uneasy the moment he stepped away from her. He sought Brennan, giving him an imploring look. "Look after her, won't you? Keep her safe."
Don't let her try to run again.
Brennan looked unappreciative of the task, but loyal as ever, did not put up a word of protest.
"I'll do what I can," he said, lifting a brow disapprovingly at the pearly-haired woman.
For now, that was good enough.
Chapter
Five
"So, you plan to stay rooted to one spot until your wings naturally heal and you can make your grand escape?"
Brennan, seated lazily atop an armrest near the fireplace, didn't flinch as Tessa fixed her glare on him. With the room empty besides the two of them, there was little else to do besides attempt conversing with her.
"I have moved," she argued, gesturing at a distance upon the chest that couldn't span more than a few inches.
"To eat. That hardly counts."
She hadn't shown an inkling of gratitude to Daniel for delivering breakfast to her, but Brennan supposed he should at least be glad her stubbornness didn't extend to refusing the fresh fruit. If anything, she ate like she might never see food again.
"What does it matter to you whether I move or not?" she challenged, putting her hands on her hips. "Shouldn't you prefer I don't, in fact? You are my guard, after all. A turnkey."
Brennan snorted, standing up to stretch. "And yet, there are no keys for me to turn. Does it mean nothing to you that they didn't so much as entertain the idea of putting you back in that cage?"
Tessa's glare faltered. "What would you have me do, then?" she demanded rather than admitting Brennan had a point.
"Perhaps find a bed that Esmae keeps stowed away around here for fae guests. Set it up for you later. Evening is a long way off, but you must admit it's better than doing nothing."
Eyeing the island she was isolated on, Tessa caught on quickly that his suggestion meant she would have to be moved. The smooth sides of the chest had no handholds to offer.
"Or," Brennan added, flitting up from the armrest, "we could talk. Perhaps you can tell me about where you came from and how your magic vanished."
Her pale cheeks flushed. "Let's see about that bed."
Tessa was oddly quiet as Brennan took her into his arms, making only a small noise of complaint as she folded her tender wings to her back. She wasn't short for a fairy, but she was thin—too thin—and scarcely weighed him down when he took to the air.
Her arms seized tighter around his neck as he picked up speed.
"I haven't flown for years," Tessa said, her voice thin and breathy as air whipped past.
Brennan's heart gave a painful lurch. She had forgotten what it was like to do the most natural thing a fairy could do.
He flew into the curtained alcove that separated the king's bed from the rest of the luxurious quarters. To his relief, the closet door had been left ajar.
"I don't see any beds," Tessa said, skeptical as he set her down on the floor.
"That's because they're not stupid enough to keep it out in the open," Brennan snorted. "Follow me."
Folding his wings with a sharp snick, he led her deeper inside.
Tessa's steps straggled, her wide eyes darting about the dim closet shadowed by massive amounts of fabric overhead. Her gaze became searching as it trailed where the floorboards met the wall.
"Still looking for a way out?" Brennan wearily backtracked a few steps to urge her to keep pace.
"I'm just not fond of the dark," she said too quickly, snapping her eyes away from the corner. Her shoulder tensed beneath his hand as he ushered her along. "You never know what could be in it."
"Like clothes. Terrifying." When she shrugged away from him he dropped his hand. "Not everything is out to get you, you know. Relax. You're only shaving years off your life by being so jumpy."
She pursed her lips. "And you can cut yours to nothing by not being careful. But clearly you wouldn't know the first thing about being careful. Especially around them."
"I don't need to be careful," Brennan said dismissively. "They're my friends."
"They're still human."
He didn't begrudge this with a reply. In the back of his mind, he knew her words rang with a bit of truth. He hadn't considered how much he had come to rely on his friends' attentiveness. He didn't have to worry about being swatted or forgotten or mishandled even on the worst of days.
Maybe I have grown soft over the years.
"What exactly are you to them?" Tessa pressed, quickening her pace to keep up with him. "The king seems to trust you quite a bit, to let you keep an eye on me."
Brennan elected to ignore the bitterness in her voice. "I've known Esmae all my life. I was going to be her lead advisor when she came of age in Evrosea but… obviously, plans change." He smirked at this, but Tessa didn't seem to find it funny. "I advise Daniel now, much as I'm able."
"Surely not," she scoffed.
He raised an eyebrow at her in the deepening darkness. "Why is that?"
"W-well, you're… clearly, we're all some big secret around here, aren't we? You mean to tell me that the king has an advisor that the others don't even know exist?"
"That's right," Brennan said simply. "There have been rumors here and there about the crown's affiliation with the fae, but that's all they've been dismissed as—rumors. No one truly knows about us."
"That's not true." Shuddering, Tessa fiddled with her hands. "When the queen… withdrew me from the market, she wasn't alone. There was a large human fellow with a red beard…"
Brennan chuckled. "You must mean Sir Logan. He's harmless."
"That's enough joking!"
"I'm not!" he insisted, unable to suppress a smile. "The only ones who ne
ed fear him are those who raise their sword against Mirrel. And things that can be found on dinner plates, I suppose."
Tessa hardly looked convinced, but Brennan didn't bother arguing any further on the matter. They had reached the far side of the closet, where a stack of lightweight fae-sized mattresses lay neatly atop a swatch of folded cloth.
"Where did those come from?" Tessa inquired, narrowing her eyes at the shadows.
"Esmae made them herself." Brennan opened his wings and flew up to the examine the top of the stack. "Almost as if she truly cares about her guests' well-being and doesn't harbor whatever ulterior motives your mind has conjured up."
Tessa didn't have a bitter reply for once. She was quiet as she ran her hand over the bottom mattress, looking up at him. "The needlework is so fine." She wandered further towards the wall, where a long line of fairy clothing was hung on tiny hooks.
"Did she make these too?"
Brennan shook his head. "Esmae's old clothes, along with other spares. She had them brought over when visits from Evrosea guardians became more frequent than anticipated. Lengthier, too."
Tessa pulled on the sleeve of a gown as pale as her skin. She looked at it strangely, as though it was a dear friend of hers. "Do you think she would mind if I borrowed this one instead?"
"Try on whatever you'd like. But then come help me with this," Brennan said, tapping his foot on the mattress.
He turned his back when she began to fiddle with the silk strings on the front of her gown. The fabric dropped to the floor in one smooth motion, and he was left to stand there awkwardly, listening as she pulled the next gown off its hook.
After a minute or so, Tessa cleared her throat. He rounded, his breath hitching as she came closer. The pale gown made her an image of pure white. In the current darkness, she was a beautiful ghost. The ankle length dress had a low-cut bodice with a belt that tied off in the back. If not for the delicate, lace like fabric, it could have been a peasant dress in its simplicity.
"It fits you nicely," he managed.
Tessa smiled softly—the first true smile he'd seen on her yet. "I used to have one just like this back in… Well, it doesn't matter where. You said you needed help?"
"It's not very heavy," he said, blinking away from her. "But I'd rather not drag it along the floor to get it into the room. That is, unless you'd prefer to sleep here in the dark."
She grabbed the end of the mattress as Brennan shifted it over the side of the pile. He worried for a moment about whether he should be asking her to do anything in her weakened state, but she managed her end without complaint.
"So," Brennan said as they made their way back toward the light of the bed chamber with the mattress between them. "That dress of yours from wherever. When's the last time you saw it?"
She clenched her jaw. With Brennan walking backwards and facing her, there was little she could do to hide her expression. "You're not being subtle."
"I'm not trying to be."
"Then come straight out and ask how long I've been away from fae society."
"Seems you don't answer either way," he pointed out. "I'm not asking where you're from, if that makes you feel better. I just… want to know how long humans have been pawing at you."
Tessa bristled. "Why?"
"Because I want to understand," he said, abandoning his attempts to meet her gaze. "Perhaps your stay won't be quite as miserable as you seem to think if you had someone understand—"
"You can't," she snapped. "Certainly not you. You can't be friendly with humans and also understand. It's not possible."
It was Brennan's turn to scowl. He peered over his shoulder to avoid bumping into the closet door. The light made Tessa's pinkened cheeks more pronounced, but he didn't let up. "I can't pretend to know what you've been through. But don't assume you're the only one here who's been toyed with by humans."
Tessa opened her mouth to snap back at him, only falter halfway.
"What did they do?" she asked softly.
"It wasn't anyone around here, mind you. It was bandits in the east woods. Bastards nearly tore my wings off." Even now, the memory of that agonizing strain on his body made his wings flit nervously.
Tessa was quiet for a while, shuffling along with him to get the mattress out into the main bedroom.
"Humans can be so cruel," she said finally.
"Some of them," Brennan allowed. "Listen, don't pity me. I'm only saying you're not as alone as you think you are."
Her pondering silence was short. "I won't, so long as you return the favor."
"Consider it done. But I would appreciate it if you also took the rest of what I'm telling you to heart." Tessa made no promises there, so he pressed, "If you don't believe me, consider believing Aveline, at least. She's already vouched for her parents. And she seems quite taken with you."
Something strangely guarded glinted in Tessa's eyes at the mention of the princess. "She's… unique, that one," she admitted. "I can't deny that she has a good heart."
Brennan chuckled. "Do you think a heart like that could be raised by monsters?"
"That remains to be seen," she muttered.
The sun was halfway past the tops of the western trees by the time Brennan left the Mirrel palace. Esmae had offered him to stay through the evening to have supper with her, but he'd declined. Every so often, it was nice to dine in a place where he wasn't smaller than the silverware. He was sure Tessa would have agreed, had she come with him. She may have allowed herself to be seen and spoken to by the royal family, but that was the extent of her willingness to compromise.
A fairy who didn't want to be amongst other fairies.
There were no better hands for Tessa than Esmae's. He had no reason to worry, and yet the beautiful, pale woman haunted his thoughts the entire flight home and all throughout dinner with Evrosea's court. Tessa was a mystery. He couldn't begin to fathom what dark secrets were hidden behind those amethyst eyes. Where had she come from… What pain had she endured to lose her magic?
He was startled from his thoughts as the table gave a gentle quake. The man across from him cleared his throat, an eyebrow arched worriedly.
"Wake up, Brennan. You're in a daze, m'boy."
"Apologies," he mumbled, lifting his glass of red currant wine towards the offended fairy lord.
"No need." He stopped short, looking past him. "Ah, Lady Alyssa. Lovely of you to join us."
The name alone made Brennan sit up straighter. His eyes darted first to the head table, where the king and lords and ladies of high rank were situated. Even Rommen had joined them that evening. Sure enough, one of the council member's seats had been vacated—because she was instead taking a seat beside Brennan.
"Mother," he greeted.
"Brennan." She nodded courteously, albeit distractedly, across the table. "Lord Sarutus."
The lord must have sensed a certain rigidity in the air, for his politely excused himself and struck up a conversation with the lady beside him instead. Brennan couldn't blame him, really. Tensions between him and his lady mother were not as unpleasant as they were in the past years, but anything more socially demanding than basic conversation had the power to make bystanders downright uncomfortable.
"You've hardly touched your food," she pointed out.
"Dinner's barely started."
"Brennan, it's been at least an hour by now."
He frowned at the mostly-empty plates along the table and shrugged. "So it has."
"You look exhausted. Is it..."
Although he wasn't looking directly at his mother, he caught the way her eyes darted to the metal badge pinned to the front of his shirt. The wear had long since begun to show, seeing as he wore it whether he was paying a visit to Mirrel that day or not.
"No, before you can figure out a way to ask civilly," Brennan said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He's not working me too hard. I've got a lot on my mind, is all."
He speared a cut of glazed rose-root. Brennan grimaced as he chewed, finding that the d
elicate sauce had long since grown cold.
His mother sniffed disapprovingly. "Perhaps you would have less to concern yourself with if you weren't tearing yourself between two kingdoms."
Brennan pushed his plate away, refreshing his goblet instead. "Mother, I'm sure you can guess how this argument ends by now."
Lady Alyssa huffed deeply, but to his relief, she didn't press the discussion. "Aeron Bogdan was in Mirrel this morning, too," she tried next. "Why?"
Brennan scanned the high table. The blond fairy was currently seated three seats down from King Maison. He wasn't difficult to spot, in his gold and sapphire cloak and bright leather tunic.
"He's intrigued by Aveline," Brennan said. "He's taken a keen interest in her. Particularly her night terrors."
"Her nightmares? Whatever for?"
He shrugged, looking back to Alyssa. "I think he just wants to be a hero."
"That seems an odd way to go about it."
Brennan had to agree, though he didn't dare voice it. Chances were, his mother was merely miffed that a council member had been drawn away from Evrosea to attend to a matter in Mirrel.
"They're quite severe, the nightmares," he said, lowering his voice. "A boost to his ego is a small price to pay to give her restful sleep. She's far too young to be experiencing such horrors."
Alyssa gave a dubious nod and made no move to argue. Although she pressed on with polite conversation—and poorly-concealed suggestions that he should be spending more time in Evrosea—Brennan only half-listened. Since laying eyes on Aeron that evening, he couldn't help but notice there was something different about the way the man carried himself. He was more animated as he spoke to his fellow council members, helping himself to more wine than usual. Whatever he was speaking of, he had those around him with listening intently or trying to weigh in on the conversation.
"What do you suppose he's going on about?" Brennan asked, interrupting Alyssa mid-sentence.
She looked none too pleased about it, but she followed his gaze. "Who's to say? He always seems to be going on about something or other these days."
