Reluctant Fae

by Margo Ryerkerk

  My face flushed as I wondered how many women Nathan had been with. He was twenty-four, old enough to have been in love at least once, but somehow, I doubted he had ever been in a relationship.

  I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. I couldn’t get too invested into Nathan, not before I knew what he was truly about, not before I understood my position in the Summer Court and how secure it was.

  Yet, I couldn’t stop trying to put together all the puzzle pieces I had about Nathan. He was a young man forced to grow up too soon, who had never gotten to be a child. He cared about his sister. He believed he was on the right side of the war. As we walked through the courtyard, elbows locked, into the castle and deeper into the party, I kept sneaking glances at him, trying to understand what he thought about the whole media spectacle around us. He seemed to like me, but it was clear that he was not a man guided by lust or even feelings. Did he find me a welcome distraction, good for politics? Did he think of me as just a friend? And why did that bother me? I set my jaw. I couldn’t get caught up in the media’s romance frenzy.

  Nathan and I stepped into a grand corridor filled with vines and small waterfalls. Fireflies darted around us, and lantern light, reflected off the water, danced on the ceiling. Fae stood in groups, some chatting, some laughing, and many with drinks in hand. A waiter offered us another drink, which was light pink and tasted of hibiscus and elderflower.

  I took a sip of the concoction. While sipping it didn’t make me feel fuzzy or warm like alcohol and there was no bitter taste, I felt my mood shift. All thoughts of romance were replaced by pride for the Summer Court, for the faeland. I shook my head. Was the drink magical? Mind-altering in a different way than alcohol?

  “You ran out of the cherry tarts? Are you kidding me! Fetch one, now!” a boy in the corner of the room demanded, tapping his foot impatiently.

  Nathan stopped, his body tensing, and I realized that the rude boy wasn’t just a boy, but the youngest son of King Peter.

  While the server he had harassed rushed off, the boy prince advanced onto Caleb and Peony, who were sitting at a table in the corner, talking quietly.

  “What are you doing with this earth fae?” the boy snarled, then snorted. “Ah, I forgot, no normal fae will have a bastard.” He let out a cruel, high-pitched laugh.

  “That’s enough, Percival.” Caleb balled his fists, looking as he was having a hard time not punching the boy prince, while Peony stared at the ground, appearing to be ashamed for once.

  “You two make a great pair of losers!” Percival raised his voice so that everyone could hear. Then he adjusted his golden cape, a cape that Caleb did not share. “You should be fetching me another drink, not lazing around.”

  “Go bother one of the poor servants,” Caleb said through gritted teeth.

  “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m the Crown Prince.” Percival emphasized the last two words.

  “Let’s move on,” Nathan whispered in my ear.

  But I wasn’t going to let Percival the Brat get away with this awful behavior. Prince or no prince this was no acceptable way to act. Shaking my head, I separated from Nathan and walked toward Caleb and Peony. Caleb’s jaw was set, his nostrils flared, but Peony’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. Back at Nocturnal Academy she’d been the bully and would’ve fired back. But now, she was trying to be the better person. Also, I sensed that she truly wanted to fit in and be respected here.

  “This is no way to treat party guests.” I glared at the kid prince, urging his mind to bend to my will.

  He whirled, cheeks red, looking like a younger version of his father. He, too, had a magical aura that I would have to work past to get through to him, but his was much thinner. “Do you know who I am?” He puffed out his chest like a big frog.

  Nathan took my arm and tried to pull me back, but I resisted. There was no media here to record this story. Peony gave me a look that was both worried and grateful. I dropped into a sarcastic curtsy. “Yes. I do. But just because you’re an heir doesn’t give you the right to treat others like shit.”

  There were a few gasps around me, and Peony’s face turned pale while the corner of Caleb’s mouth twitched upward.

  “You! You!” The kid prince’s face swelled, as he struggled and failed to hit me with a comeback.

  Nathan took the opportunity to motion for a servant carrying a tray of blue drinks to come closer. I hoped these had a calming tonic, as we could all use one.

  The servant lowered the tray and Percival’s thick fingers closed around a glass. “At least, someone knows how to act around here.” A second servant hurried over to the kid prince and handed him a tray of cherry tarts. Percival stuffed one into his mouth and grabbed another one. Then he stalked away.

  “You shouldn’t have challenged him,” Nathan said quietly, so that only I, Peony, and Caleb could hear.

  Caleb snorted. “It’s time somebody put him in his place before his big head explodes.”

  Peony grinned. “The look on his face was priceless.”

  But Nathan didn’t look amused. “He’s our future king. We’re going to serve him.” He turned to me. “You’re lucky he took a blueberry drink.”

  “Because it has a calming effect?” I raised my eyebrow. “Are all the drinks at the Summer Court infused with magic?”

  Nathan’s silver eyes turned to steel.

  Caleb sighed. “It’s necessary for parties, to keep the crowds balanced.”

  “Really, you need a Hibiscus-elderflower drink that makes you a patriot?”

  Nathan shook his head. “It’s very subtle and no one made you drink it.”

  “But a lot do,” Caleb added, “as the same drink also makes you more daring.”

  “You have to be careful,” Nathan said tightly.

  “Then, why did you give me the drink?”

  Caleb chuckled, and Nathan glanced away.

  My shoulders tensed. “Is that some romance potion?”

  “Yes, it also makes people more open to flirting.” Caleb, still seated, glanced between Nathan and I with a grin, but I did not find the situation amusing.

  “You shouldn’t have to drug people to make them want to spend time with you,” I hissed and stalked off.

  Nathan hurried after me. “It wasn’t planned. I only wanted to help you cope with the media.” I had to remind myself that since Nathan couldn’t lie any more than I could, he was telling the truth.

  “Don’t give me anything again without telling me what’s in it,” I said tightly and picked up my speed, needing to get rid of the annoyance swirling through my body.

  “I promise I won’t. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

  The sincerity and regret in Nathan’s voice made me come to a halt. I met his gaze and nodded, letting him know I accepted his apology.

  He reached out, but then dropped his hand. “Please, be careful about what you say at court.” His magic wavered. I had gotten so used to it that it had faded to background noise until now. An image of a boy running toward his mother and father flashed through my mind. I blinked. Where had that come from? Nathan’s eyes were glassy like he was lost in memory. Had he let his walls down and allowed me to read his mind? Or was my ability to do telepathy developing?

  “Where are your parents?” I blurted.

  Nathan faced one of the fountains. “They died a long time ago.”

  I stepped next to him. “How?” but even as I said it, I already knew the answer.

  “War is brutal. Nerissa and I are lucky the royal family took us in and trained us from a young age.”

  My chest ached for Nathan and Nerissa. How old had they been when they had lost their parents in the war? “I’m so sorry, Nathan. Was it the Winter fae?”

  “Yes.” Nathan fell silent.

  The safe path would be to drop the topic, but I couldn’t. I needed to understand how Nathan’s mind worked, and I needed him to understand that not all Winter fae were alike. “I bet a lot of fae in both courts never wanted a
war,” I said gently. “Even vampires who are known for their bloodlust have a few good ones. I met a vampire once who helped free some fae.”

  Nathan faced me, eyes wide. “He did?”

  “Yes.” I would not offer details and inadvertently out Onyx or Thorsten. “War is awful. We don’t need to lose any more people. What if the Summer Court and the Winter Court could come to a treaty? Isn’t it best if we avoided another war that would cost more lives?”

  Nathan’s jaw tightened as his mask went back up. “It’s not that easy. War strategy is complex.” And just like that he once again dismissed me.

  But before I could give him a piece of my mind, a terrified scream rang out from the main courtyard.

  Chapter 13

  Nathan pulled out a glinting, long, crystal sword from his bejeweled scabbard. I stared at the weapon for a few beats as other fae around me drew their daggers and bows, while others had vines spring from fingers. Drinks clanked to the ground, and glass shattered. It was a brutal awakening. I had done my best to ignore the danger until now. I’d lost myself in a fantasy, hoping the media and fitting in could be the worst of my worries.

  But as Nathan broke into a run, Caleb joining him, I could no longer keep my head under the sand. I took off after the High Commander, Peony by my side. A rushing river of people headed to the main courtyard and even if I wanted to turn back, there was no pushing against the throng.

  “What happened?” I wheezed, not slowing my tempo.

  “I have no idea,” Peony panted.

  We reached the main courtyard to find that King Peter had finally made an appearance. The crowd had parted around him, forming a ring, and stilled. In front of him, two fae kneeled, their bodies bound by thick, green vines that had risen from between the cobblestones. Those weren’t just any fae, but Winter fae, evident by their crushed blue wings and black-and-cobalt uniforms.

  “How dare you teleport right in front of my castle?” King Peter boomed as the vines around their bodies tightened and the golden leaves on his crown curled.

  “Your Majesty,” a female fae with jet black hair and a muscular build began, ignoring the vines digging into her wrists and torso. “I am Sela Snow, and I have come with a truce offering from the Winter Court.”

  The Summer Court collectively let out a gasp and then broke out into whispers, but one glare from King Peter silenced them all.

  Nathan sheathed his weapon, but kept his posture tense. He was ready to spring into action should King Peter order him. His silver eyes had turned to steel, and he was once again the High Commander.

  “Is that so?” King Peter stepped forward as did Caleb and Nathan, who flanked him, while six more guards hovered nearby. It all seemed over the top given that the two Winter fae were in vine chains, but I supposed that since they’d been able to enter the Summer castle through a portal, so could more Winter warriors.

  King Peter opened his mouth, slowly turning to face us all and flashing a terrifying smile. “The Winter Court is offering a truce after my son disappeared mysteriously, and the Winter king himself banished my daughter to the wastelands!”

  Sela nodded, steely even though one motion from the Summer king would send her head rolling. “With King Olwen vanishing into the wastelands, his daughter, Princess Onyx Vinter has taken over. She hopes we could work out a truce and is asking for permission to enter the Summer Court with her guards.”

  I struggled to keep my expression neutral and my jaw from falling. Onyx was planning to enter the dragon’s den. Was she insane? Didn’t she realize that King Peter would put her through the most torturous death once he discovered that she had killed Preston?

  Around me, the Summer fae exploded into loud whispers.

  “Outrageous!”

  “How dare she?”

  “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at this Winter princess.”

  “Silence,” King Peter growled. He stepped toward Sela, ignoring the male guard next to her completely, then lifted her chin, his grip digging into her flesh. “I am King Peter Kallan. I do not negotiate with princesses.”

  My throat dried. King Peter wanted a war, that much was clear. He ached to decimate the Winter Court.

  Sela smiled. How she could do so was beyond me. “Then, it’s a good thing that Princess Onyx will soon be crowned queen.”

  King Peter narrowed his eyes. “Do not tell lies, foolish Winter warrior! You want me to believe that the Winter Court is putting a clueless teenager on the throne in King Olwen’s absence?”

  “I cannot lie.”

  King Peter balked and worked his jaw, unable to come up with a retort because there wasn’t one. Finally, he said, “You must be mistaken. Your court will never allow a half-fae from Earth to be crowned.”

  The King had heard of Onyx, then. Did he suspect the role she played in Preston’s death and in Petra’s banishment? I winced and cleared my mind. While Nathan had said that telepathy didn’t equal mind-reading, I was afraid I had practically shouted my worries for everyone to hear. I had to be more careful.

  “I have the letter with me to prove how serious we are about crowning Princess Onyx queen. It is signed by all six generals,” Sela said with dignity, and I filed this information away. It seemed like the Winter Court was a bit more progressive. From what I understood, King Peter only used his generals to boss them around.

  King Peter snorted, but stepped back, then jerked his head into Caleb’s direction.

  “Get me this letter.” He spoke to Caleb as if he were a dog ordered to fetch. No wonder Percival had no respect for his older half-brother.

  I cringed as Caleb stepped forward and asked Sela, “Where is it?”

  “In my breast pocket.” Sela stared straight ahead as Caleb gingerly pulled out the letter, managing somehow not to touch her chest.

  King Peter’s face grew darker at the sight of the letter. “Read it!”

  Caleb unfolded it. “The Winter Court would like to hereby notify the Summer Court that in the absence of King Olwen Vinter, Princess Onyx Vinter will be crowned Queen of the Winter Court. The ceremony will take place in two moon cycles.” Tension rolled off Caleb, as if he expected his father to tear off his head for being the messenger, which given King Peter’s temper wouldn’t surprise me. “The letter is signed by all six High Generals of the Winter Court.”

  My head spun. In two months. They sure were moving fast. From Blythe’s history lessons, I had learned that preparations for a coronation ceremony normally took a minimum of six. The Winter Court must be desperate and for good reasons. Rumors had it that Onyx was the last of her line, and while it would be difficult to kill her as the crown princess, she would be much better protected as queen. The crown on her head would pull power from her kingdom, making her much stronger, another tidbit I had picked up from Blythe’s lessons. How Onyx would get her father’s crown was a mystery to me. Certainly, he couldn’t have given it to her before being pulled into the wastelands. The Winter smiths must be forging her a new one.

  “Guards!” King Peter barked and jerked me back into the present. Six warriors with bronze wings brandished their swords, and I swallowed hard, preparing for them to decapitate the Winter messengers.

  But instead of sentencing the intruders to death, King Peter said, “Bring the messengers into my throne room. I want to talk to them privately.” King Peter turned on his heels, and Caleb and Nathan followed him into the depths of the castle. I tried to go as well, but a hand grasped my wrist. A warrior shook his head at me. I swallowed down my frustration. I needed to influence Nathan as he would be part of any big decisions.

  Yet surrounded by all these Summer Court warriors and with King Peter’s magic bubbling like angry lava, ready to spill over and destroy anything in its path, I could do nothing but watch.

  The vines around the Winter fae fell away and they slowly rose to their feet, probably to show they wouldn’t attack as they were escorted away by the Summer warriors.

  I faced Peony. “What happens now?”


  Her greenish-white wings fluttered. “The king will probably grill them more and then decide what message he wants to send to the Winter Court.”

  I bit my lip. “It’s nice that she wants a truce, but sending two of her warriors into the Summer Castle seems very bold.”

  “What other choice did she have?” Peony lowered her voice to a whisper. “I doubt this was her first attempt to establish a line of communication. I’m sure she tried writing to King Peter only for her letters to end up in the trash. Caleb says that King Peter absolutely hates Onyx since she had been with King Olwen when he banished Petra. He also suspects her of having something to do with Preston’s death since she was the only Winter fae at Nocturnal when he taught.” Peony stopped talking, eyes darting to the surrounding crowd.

  I motioned her to the edge of the courtyard and into a quiet corner. The fact that the crowd had exploded into nervous chatter made it easy. Some tried to gawk at the departing Winter fae, despite the guards blocking the way into the corridor that must lead to the throne room.

  “So King Peter knows that Preston is dead?”

  Peony didn’t meet my gaze. “I cannot lie. He asked me if I thought Preston was dead, and I said yes. He also asked if I thought Onyx killed Preston.”

  “And you said yes.” Horror overcame me.

  Peony shook her head. “I said I had no proof that she did, but that I never liked her because she was always causing trouble. I did my best to divert his attention, and eventually, he got bored.”

  I exhaled slowly. It wasn’t great that Peony had painted Onyx as a rebel, but at least she didn’t know that Onyx had killed Preston and thus couldn’t betray her secret. I, on the other hand….I needed to work on my persuasion skills, so that King Peter wouldn’t even think to ask me about Onyx’s involvement in Preston’s death.

  Peony twirled a hair strand nervously. “Even if King Peter won’t get information out of us, there are other sources. When I worked in the plant museum, my master told me that there were rumors that Onyx had killed Preston, which was good for the vampires, as it meant no retaliation from the Summer Court.”