by Kailin Gow
At last Kian and I descended to a small glen in the middle of a snowy wood. In the glen there was a small manor-house, with a thatched roof, covered with snow. Sharp mistletoe adorned the doorway, and the windows were obscured by pine trees.
“What is this place?” I whispered. My throat was dry and my voice was croaky.
“It is one of the outposts for fairies in this part of the country,” said Kian. “There are many – only Winter magic will unlock them – this region is dangerous. It was part of the Safety Policy we initiated at the beginning of the wars – they are for traveling fairies of any sort.”
“Is it safe?”
“The strongest magic in Feyland protects us,” he said, “It is not far from the Court. I will take you there tomorrow myself, and then the exchange will be made.” His voice almost wavered. “You will go home to your family. I will have my family here with me in the Winter Court. I will not trouble you again. You will be able to return home to the mortal world – at least for now.”
He tried to maintain his customary regal air; his voice was shaking.
He took my hand at last. “I am sorry for what has befallen you,” he said. “I never meant you harm. It was only...”
“An affair of state,” I said, bitterly.
He looked miserable. “Your friend was very honorable,” he said, “Very brave. Most unlike an ordinary werewolf. He died a hero's death and you should be very proud of him. A man can ask for nothing greater.”
“Yeah, how about being alive?” I said, and sniffled.
He put out an arm, giving me an awkward embrace, his back still stiff – the posture of a warrior, of a soldier.
“There is no greater honor than to die in battle for a woman whom one loves,” said Kian. “That is the way of the Winter Court.”
“Logan didn't...” but my voice trailed off. I knew deep down that I had been lying to myself, and the guilt rose up in my throat again. Logan had always been there. He had always stood by me, supporting me in everything I did, encouraging me to be the best I can be, accepting me for who and what I am. He had come looking for me in Feyland to make sure I was safe, to bring me home. Now he was gone. It was too late. I was going home, but I couldn’t bring Logan home safely with me.
I couldn't help it; I started crying at last – great, racking, heaving sobs that overwhelmed me. It had been a long day – too long a day – and everything was so new, so strange.
“Bree...” Kian said, hugging me close. “Princess.”
“It's all my fault!” I cried. “If I hadn't gone back to rescue you – if I'd been a better fighter…”
He kissed me on the forehead. “Nonsense,” he said. “You are – you are one of the bravest women I have ever known, Princess, Summer Court or not. You learned the ways of magic and broke your way out of the Pixie Prison. You taught yourself to bring down the chandelier when we were trying to escape. You kept your head when under the threats of the Pixie King. You chose to save me – although you knew the risks – because your sense of honor would not permit you to leave a soldier behind. You came up with a plan – you held a knife to the throat of the Pixie King himself – all within a few days of coming to fairyland! You are a remarkable woman, Breena,” he said. “No wonder Logan would risk everything for you.”
I was sixteen. I had never thought of myself as a “woman” before. But I had grown older since coming to Feyland. Much older. And now I understood.
I remembered him as I had seen him in my dreams – his beauty, his intensity, the sense of longing I had felt for him for so long before I had ever met him – these feelings all came rushing back to me, dissolving my pride, dissolving my fear, even, though quite, dissolving my pain. Magic was stronger than fairy law, Kian had said, and as he sat beside me I felt the force of magic overwhelm us – its strength overwhelming. More important than affairs of state. More important than fairy contracts. More important than war.
He leaned in, slowly, hesitantly, his lips trembling near mine.
I remembered what Kian had said about my mother – that she had risked her life – that a fairy kiss burned most humans into madness.
It didn't matter. The risk was worth it.
I kissed him, at last – took his face in mine and allowed myself to succumb to the longing that I had been forcing myself to bury since my arrival in Feyland. It was time.
At once, everything changed. I felt like I had when in the midst of the fairy picture, surrounding by the waltz, as I had when in the deepest trances of magic back at the Pixie Court, like I had in the dreams that had haunted me since my youth. But this feeling was greater, stronger, than that. This was an older magic, a deeper magic, the ancient foundation on which all other magic was built – a longing that had allowed him to cross the Crystal River to find me, a longing that had brought me to him...
And he was kissing me back, and suddenly I knew him – knew his thoughts, knew his feelings, knew his fears and his loves and his secrets, all flooding into my brain as if they were my own. I felt his love for me, his fear, his struggle between duty and passion, his desire, his strength, all overwhelming me; there was no space afterward for thought, or logic, or reason. There was only magic.
The Pixies, the Minotaurs, the Crystal River and the transfigured hay – they were all parlor tricks, like a rabbit out of a hat.
This was magic.
I was alive.
As we pulled apart, I couldn't help but laugh. “Still here,” I said, softly.
“I knew you would be,” he said. “You're strong, Bree. Stronger than any fairy.” He gave a little laugh too. “I cannot lie to you, Breena. I have known many fairy women – it is expected, when one is a prince. But I have never been kissed – I have never kissed a woman – like that. It has never been like that.” He sighed. “You were once my intended, Breena. What has been bound with magic cannot be unbound.” He took my hands in his.
“You are my Queen. I cannot deny it. You have always been.”
Chapter 14
After he had kissed me, Kian was delirious in his awkwardness. He offered me mermaid tea; he forgot to heat the whistling kettle. He wondered if we should take a walk; he remembered it was nearly three in the morning. He tripped over the tablecloth and confused the butter knife with the jam knife. On his face there was a smile I had never seen before, a picture of true happiness and ebullient joy. I had never seen anyone look happier, more exquisitely radiant in my life!
Until I looked in the mirror. I looked different, I thought – so much older. The kiss had brought rosiness to my cheeks and a sparkle to my eyes I had not seen before. I could not wipe the smile off my face even if I tried.
“It is late,” said Kian, after we had finished eating some bread with jam and butter to settle our aching stomachs. “We must go to sleep, and we shall solve everything on the morrow. There is – there is a bedroom upstairs – and here, downstairs, there is the couch.” He stumbled over his words. He looked less like a prince, then, less like a restrained and honorable prince of the Royal Court, all cold and noble, and more like a young man, alive and full of energy, of desire.
“Stay,” I whispered, and took a corner of the couch, curling up with him. I wanted his strong arms around me in the morning when I woke.
“It is not right,” he said. “I will not insult you...”
I smiled. “Don't worry,” I said. “I mean – I only mean...stay until I fall asleep.”
I fell asleep with his fingers stroking my hair as I dozed into unconsciousness. I could feel him kiss my hair and forehead before he tiptoed upstairs to sleep.
He woke me in the morning with another kiss.
“Good morning, Princess,” he said. He took my hand. “You've been sleeping like you've been bitten by the Lethe Bug.”
“That probably makes more sense in fairyland,” I said, rubbing my eyes. The sun was hot in the air; it must have been afternoon.
Kian’s eyes roamed my face lovingly. Without warning, he took me into his arms
then and kissed me softly and then deeply. I responded back, winding my hands into his thick black hair and pulling him closer. When we finally broke apart, our breaths were ragged, and we held each other tightly. “Oh Breena,” Kian said. “I wish - I wish we can hold each other like this forever. I wish we were not who we are so circumstances between us would be different.” He put his face to mine where our cheeks touched each other’s. “Ah Breena, my Breena, what has fate done to us?” said Kian, and laughed bitterly. “I – I must apologize for last night. What happened could not be.”
“Why?” I sat up.
“As a chivalrous soldier – as a man – I cannot keep the lady I love imprisoned.” he said. “But as a Prince of the royal Court, I have a duty to follow the commands of my Queen, to whom I have sworn allegiance and fealty beyond that of any other bond...” he said gravely. “I cannot deny my...inclinations towards you; nor can I deny that there is little I love so well as the Winter Court! I do not want to see it burned up by Summer – and this is a war, Princess. My family, my people, my country is under siege from yours; as long as there is war – to love you would be treasonous.”
“Don't worry,” I said. “Don't you see – if we unite our kingdoms – if we were to...join together - surely then the war would have to stop!” (Marriage? I thought, in the back of my mind. I was beginning to sound like Kian. I had no desire to get married, for goodness's sake – I was only sixteen, and had had enough of proposals following Delano's attempt on me).
“It is impossible,” said Kian. “Even if we were to defy the wishes of the current rulers – who would never allow it – I promise you – we would have to contend with our duty to our people. The winter fairies trust me; when you ascend to the throne, the summer fairies will trust you! How will it look as a ruler if you succumb to your passions, your feelings, for the enemy, no less, instead of leading your people? If the two of us were to marry, we would be forced to unite our kingdoms; how could Summer and Winter fairies live side by side. Two different sets of customs, of traditions! There would be the question of the occupation of the Autumn villages; there would be the question of language, of military forces. Your people would always see you as having betrayed them and put a winter king on the throne – think how many of them know Winter as the land that killed their sons, their husbands, their fathers in war...”
“But we were intended, once!” I cried.
“That was before the war,” he said, darkly. “Since then much has changed in Feyland.”
He had a point. I had paid attention in history class well enough to know the basics of politics, and I gathered that allowing a hated enemy on your throne wasn't the best or smartest move.
I slipped my hand in his. “We'll figure it out,” I said. “Together. We'll find a way to make peace.” I had always been a hippie, I thought to myself.
“Easier said than done!” said Kian.
But he took my hand and kissed it. He allowed his eyes to linger over my face, his expression full of adoration, of passion, of love. “My Queen,” he said. “My prisoner – my Queen.” He stood. “I cannot keep you here,” he said. “And yet I must keep you here...” I saw the torment in his eyes, the frustration he had in loving me, yet loving his kingdom. Fate and the law of magic had an ironic sense of humor.
“Stop,” I said. “I am not your prisoner any longer. I am a willing delegate from the Summer Court, offering myself up willingly in order to help broker peace in the region. So you can stop worrying about your honor. I'm as free as you are, Kian, and I want to stay with you. I want to help fix this. And,” I cupped his cheek in my hand, “I want to give you your sister back.”
He smiled through his gloom.
“I will take you to the Winter Court,” he said. “But we will find a way. Do not worry, Breena. We will find some way... I – my heart, my soul won’t give you up so easily.”
Chapter 15
We went through all the possible options in trying to figure out what to do next. We considered first taking me straightaway to the Winter Court and trying to get the whole debacle over with as quickly as possible, but such a tactic gave us a great deal of pause. We feared in the end that the Winter Queen might not hold up her end of the bargain. “She has been known to torture prisoners,” said Kian, with a coolness that terrified me – considering that she was his mother. “And to leave them for days festering in the dungeon. I do not wish to risk your beautiful head on such an agonizing fate.”
“Well, let's avoid that, then.”
“Sometimes she is perfectly pleasant to them,” Kian continued. “It all depends on what mood she is in. And of course how much she misses Shasta.”
“Surely she must miss her dreadfully,” I said. “After all, Shasta is her child!”
“So am I,” said Kian dryly, “and I don't think she thinks much of me. I am an heir – that is all – and I am useful so long as I am fit to govern. If I am found unfit – if the Fairy Court deems me an insufficient ruler – say, if I were to be found liaising with a future Summer Queen – no doubt she would remove me from her sight and lock me away in some cavern up in the northern mountains to prevent my attempting to take over the throne from one of my younger brothers or until I come to my senses.”
“But she's your mother!” I cried out. “Surely she must love you.”
“I have said,” Kian said, “We fairies have tried to limit love long ago. When we have magic such as ours – things that lead to deep magic are far, far too dangerous not to be sanctioned by laws. And love leads to some of the deepest, most uncontrolled magic of all.”
“In our world,” I said, “Love runs free – we're allowed to marry who we want, and to date who we want for that matter, and we're free to act on our feelings!”
“Yes,” said Kian. “And in your world there is a great deal of war – this fairy war is the only one of its kind – and there is selfishness, there is divorce, there are people who let their feelings run away with them and blow up buildings. I know all about your world. You do not sanction love – and it is dangerous! Imagine how much more dangerous it would be if magic were involved. Your world would not survive it.”
“We've survived a lot of things,” I said hotly. “We're not so bad.”
“In any case,” continued Kian, “I am perfectly content in the knowledge that she does not love me. She respects me – and that is far more important.”
“My mother loves me,” I said.
“Your mother was never Queen,” said Kian. “Your mother never had to run an empire. She was only a concubine.”
I went white with rage. “How dare you?” I said. “My mother was the best – the strongest woman you'd ever know! And if she were here right now, she'd solve this mess with a lot more common sense than any of you so-called rational fairies ever could!”
I stormed into the upstairs bedroom and remained there until sunset. At last I heard a knock at the door.
“Come in!” I said miserably.
Kian entered, stiffly and awkwardly. “It is not the way of fairy princes to apologize,” he said. “But I owe you an apology. I meant no ill of your mother – in our world, concubines are not without respect. They fulfill a vital role in fairy society, and the more enlightened among us can respect it. There is certainly no – innuendo – associated with the position. It is seen as lesser than that of Queen, of course, in the same manner that an Emerald Knight is seen as inferior to a Gold Knight, in terms of rank. But I was not – I had no intention – of making you think that your mother was anything but a well-respected woman of the Summer court.”
I couldn't help but give a weak laugh. “I guess we've got some culture shock to figure out,” I said.
“But I must say,” Kian said. “If you are to be offended when I speak of your mother as a concubine – I must ask that you understand if I prefer you not to act as if there is something unspeakable in my lacking my mother's love. That is the way of things here, as other things are the way of things in your land. And you are a
Halfling, after all; you must learn to adopt both ways. If you are to rule the Summer Court, after all, you must learn fairy custom.”
“I'm sorry too,” I said. “It's just hard for me – getting used to all this. It's all so new – and every time I turn around there's some custom that just seems crazy to me. Where I come from, love is...well, you listen to the radio and every single song is about love. And here, it's frowned upon! Viewed as a sign of weakness! Everything's so...technical here.”
“I find your world very perplexing,” said Kian. “For one thing, your idea of entertainment – a film, they call it? It's only in two dimensions, and you can't even control the players!”
I realized that beneath his gruff exterior he was trying to make a joke. I laughed.
“We'll manage,” I said to him. “Don't worry.”
He smiled at me. “We will never make peace between the Winter and Summer Courts if we cannot first broker peace between fairies and humans,” he said. “Come, let us sign a treaty of our own.”
He took me downstairs, to where a sumptuous banquet awaited us.
“I thought you would be more prone to forgive me if I prepared dinner,” said Kian.
The delicious smell of roasting vegetables and potatoes wafted into my nostrils.
“It is a traditional fairy meal,” said Kian. “In Feyland, it is traditionally men that do the cooking. It is seen as a symbolic presentation of the hunt.”
I decided there were some customs I preferred in Feyland after all.
After dinner we decided that Kian and I would hide out in the manor until we could better assess the situation and tell whether or not the Winter Queen would be amenable to the Geneva Conventions.
