“Yes, dear son, but don’t look so sad. If you miss me, you’ll have to visit more often.” With that, she turns and slithers back the way she came.
“Adjourned,” Aspen says, even though Cobalt and I are the only ones in attendance aside from the guards.
Cobalt looks from Aspen to me, hesitating, then leaves the balcony. I’m tempted to do the same, but there’s something I need from Aspen.
He remains seated on his throne, scowling after his mother. I shift in my seat to face him. “We need to talk.”
His scowl disappears, turning to mischief as he eyes the length of the gown. “I can think of something better we can do. It doesn’t involve talking at all.”
I blush. “No, thank you. You are never taking advantage of me like that again.”
He scoffs. “Take advantage? I’m not the one who forced secrets from my lips in a vulnerable state.”
“I never imagined you could admit to being vulnerable.”
“I never imagined you could kiss the way you did.”
My heart races at his words. The truth is, I never imagined I could kiss like that either. Honestly, I think he did most of the kissing. I just opened to it, followed his lead. Moved the way he moved, breathed the way he breathed—I shake my head, squeezing my thighs together.
“Stop trying to change the subject. I need you to explain some things. First of all, why didn’t you tell me my sister was alive? You let me believe she was dead.”
His expression darkens, looking from his guards to the other end of the balcony. “Keep your voice down.”
“Then answer the question.”
He lets out an irritated grumble. “I never planned on lying to you, but you seemed so convinced the body you saw was hers. I figured it might be safer that way, for everyone involved. At least until I discovered the truth.”
“How in the bloody name of iron did you figure that was safer?”
“I don’t know who’s behind this,” he says, rubbing his brow. “If the person responsible thinks we assume your sister is dead, they won’t expect us to be looking for her.”
“Does that mean you are looking for her?”
He nods. “Not that it’s doing any good. There are no trails. No clues. Every day I await the ransom note, the bargain. Every day nothing comes of it. I hate dealing with assassins I can’t see. They should at least have the decency to face me head on.”
“Who would hold Amelie against you like that?”
“It could be anyone. Any of the unseelie who want war. Any of the humans who want the same. Any of the seelie council fae who’d prefer to see my brother on the throne. The hosting court of the Chosen is always at risk during the month following a Reaping. What I do or don’t do with you could turn the tide. If I treat you badly, refuse a marriage alliance, halt compensation to your mother, any of that could forfeit the treaty. It makes me a target from all sides.”
My heart does a flip at the mention of my mother. “How are you compensating her, anyway? I imagine it isn’t with farm animals.”
“She refused all talk of compensation. There was no bargain Foxglove could tempt her with. So I purchased her apothecary and put it under her name, in addition to leaving a heavy fund to maintain it. She will never have to worry about rent or repair. Even if she refuses to spend a coin from the fund, it will be done on her behalf.”
A lump rises in my throat. My mother. She’s being taken care of. Her life’s passion—the apothecary—is secured. Was that Aspen’s doing? Foxglove’s? The council? I can’t bring myself to ask.
“Regardless,” Aspen says, interrupting my thoughts, “even before the Reaping, I tended to attract the disdain of seelie and unseelie alike. I have many potential enemies. Many who would like to see me lose my throne.”
I remember what Cobalt had said about Aspen. How he constantly shifts sides. “Why do you do it?” I ask. “Why do you attract the rage of the council? If you just chose a side and stuck with it, they wouldn’t resent you the way they do.”
He lets out a cold laugh. “No, I’m sure you’re right, but that’s not something I’m willing to do.”
“Why? You talk about maintaining the safety of the isle. Isn’t that more important than childish games?”
“What I do isn’t a game,” he says, meeting my eyes with his steely gaze. “What I do creates balance. A balance that—if upended—could create chaos for my people.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
I lean toward him. “Then tell me. I need to know what’s going on.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s something you should understand. The seelie, the unseelie, it isn’t a matter of good or bad. The seelie want the experiences the humans opened for them. To love. To feel. To hate. The power of choice and consequence. Luxury. Lack. Poverty. They want all of it. The unseelie want the old ways. They want solitude. Connection to nature. Instinct.”
“That makes sense,” I say.
“Since the war ended, we’ve maintained balance. The seelie live how they want to live, and the unseelie follow their own ways. There is give and take. Each court and ruler and citizen has the right to choose. For most of us, it’s enough, but for others…”
I lean closer, entranced by his candid words, his serious tone. He’s never spoken this way before, not even when he was recovering from his wound. “Go on.”
“Some of the seelie see the unseelie as barbaric. Lesser. Vile, dangerous creatures that shouldn’t be allowed the level of freedom they get. You’ve met the kelpie. Would you say he should be allowed to torment stray travelers the way he does?”
I shake my head, the memory of nearly drowning still fresh in my mind.
“But it is the kelpie’s nature. Lost travelers are his prey, the same way a rabbit is prey to a wolf. The radical seelie want the unseelie ways to end. To force them seelie or destroy them. The radical unseelie feel the same way, but in reverse. They want the human influence off the isle, to free their kind from the shackles of the seelie way. Without human influence, clothes, food, the seelie would cease to exist. We would revert to our unseelie forms and the isle would return to what it was long ago. Can you see the conflict?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with you shifting sides on the council?”
“What do you think would happen if the council shifted too heavily one side or another?”
I lift my shoulder in a shrug, even though I think I know where he’s going with this.
“If one side or the other got total control, the other side would be eliminated. If the seelie ruled the council, the unseelie would be outlawed, banished, executed. Strapped into clothing, human food forced into their mouths. On the other hand, if the unseelie took control, they would exterminate the humans in their sleep, not bothering with the formalities of war. They would force the seelie to abandon all that they have come to hold dear.”
My eyes widen with realization. “You’re trying to prevent that from happening.”
“I believe every fae has a right to choose. For that, we must maintain balance.”
I sit back in my throne, feeling drained. Everything I thought I knew about Aspen is crashing around me. He may be arrogant and irritating and possibly paranoid, but he’s fighting for something I can understand. For not the first time in my life, I wonder just how wrong I’ve been about faekind. “This is indeed complicated.”
“It is,” Aspen says. “Sometimes I feel like the unseelie are right. That it would be better not to feel pain or pleasure. To take my stag form forever and live on instinct in the pure radiance of my true nature. But other times,” he meets my eyes, “I feel like I couldn’t possibly give all this up.”
“Why did you choose me?” I find myself asking, voice barely above a whisper.
“I told you the first time you asked,” he said. “My words were true. I chose you because you put a knife to me.”
I narrow my eyes. “When you were recovering, you said you hadn
’t wanted to punish me.”
“No, you’re right, but my words are true just the same. After the assassination attempt by the Holstrom girls, I nearly agreed to wage war on your kind. The seelie on the council talked me out of it, encouraged me to choose another for the Reaping. I could have left it to random choice, but there was a name I couldn’t get out of my head. The name of the woman who could have tried to kill me but held back, even when I feigned an attack on her at the wall.”
“Why was such a thing so unforgettable to you?”
He shrugs. “If you’d been an assassin, you’d have tried to kill me then. Your ferocity paired with restraint made me think you’d be strong enough to stand at my side, yet not so full of hate that you’d try to kill me.”
“Oh,” I say. That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “But I didn’t know who you were at the wall. I didn’t even see your antlers. If I’d been an assassin sent to kill you, I wouldn’t have known you were my target.”
“I may have glamoured my antlers and dressed in the colors of the night, but if you were an assassin, you’d have known me anyway. You’d have been expecting me.”
I chew my lip, processing the information.
“Was I right about you?” he asks. “Or are you still thinking of turning that blade on me?”
I look down at my thigh and the blue chiffon hiding the dagger beneath it. I’m not ready to answer that question, so I stand. “I should take my leave, Your Majesty.”
He takes hold of my hand, gently. “I meant it, Evie. It’s Aspen when we’re alone.”
I turn to go, but he doesn’t release me. I’m about to throw him a scowl, but his expression is serious. “Come back to our room,” he says.
“Why, so you can take advantage of me again?”
“I’ll sleep elsewhere tonight. You claim the bed.” Finally, he lets my hand slip from his fingers.
“I’ll consider it.” I feel his eyes on me as I make my way across the floor.
It’s no surprise when I hear him say my name. I turn. “I never glamoured myself in your presence but once.”
I tilt my head. “Excuse me?”
“At the wall. That was the only time I’ve worn a glamour in front of you.”
“But the day I arrived at the palace…in the dining room…you said—”
“I was teasing you, allowing you to believe I’d donned a glamour. But I hadn’t.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I thought you said you couldn’t lie.”
His eyes sparkle with mischief. “I told you no direct lie. Deception, on the other hand, is what we fae excel at.”
I bristle. He just admitted to being able to deceive me without lying. A dangerous confession. But even more dangerous is the truth—that all those times I was drawn to Aspen, pulled by his strange beauty, powerless before it, I had no glamour to blame. It leaves me with a confession of my own. There is a very strong part of me that wants him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
That night I meet Melusine on the shore. She stands near the edge of water, waves lapping over the end of her tail. The sun is setting in brilliant shades of pink and gold, and a gentle breeze catches my hair, sending stray tendrils blowing behind me. With slow, confident steps, feet bare in the cool sand, I close the distance between us and stand before her.
“Your Majesty,” I say with a curtsy.
She gives me a deep nod. “Come, Evelyn, let us stroll.” She turns and slithers down the shore, away from the palace.
I follow, silence falling between us. The only sound is the crashing of waves and the occasional splash of something breaking the surface of the water. I catch sight of a whale’s tail in the distance, then the leaping of a fish. Then another. Moving closer and closer to the shore.
Melusine smiles upon each visitor, each crab that scuttles from behind its rock to watch its queen.
I catch movement up ahead; seals leap upon the large rocks at the far end of the shore, then beautiful women with long, opalescent tails climb upon the higher rocks. Are they naturally drawn to their queen and simply want to see her? Or is she trying to demonstrate her power? I swallow my unease, wishing I hadn’t left Aspen’s guards at the other end of the shore.
“How gracious of you to meet with me tonight,” she says in her melodious voice, waving a greeting at a siren with emerald green hair.
“Yes,” I say, “and so gracious of you to want to get to know me better.”
“That I do. You are my eldest son’s mate. Soon-to-be queen of the palace that once was mine.”
“I…am determined to take great care of the palace,” I say, careful to avoid words like vow and promise. “And to serve the interests of human and fae alike.”
“Yes, but your interests will always lie more with humans, will they not?”
I think about everything Aspen said about balance. About freedom and choice. “I’m certain I can learn to hold both my kind and yours in equal affection.”
“Even the unseelie?”
I swallow hard and don a pleasant smile. “You mean like you?”
She tenses, lips peeling back from her sharp teeth.
I pretend it doesn’t frighten me. “If I can walk peacefully at your side, I’m sure I can advocate for others. My mate, as I’m sure you know, often shifts his alliance to unseelie. I will have to learn to appreciate both parties.”
“Spoken like an ambassador.”
“Like a queen,” I correct her, before I realize the boldness of my words.
“You aren’t quite what I expected. Not after everything I heard about you. And your sister.”
The blood leaves my face. It’s a struggle to keep my voice neutral as I ask, “What exactly have you heard about my sister?”
“Oh, that a terrible tragedy took place here. Word has it the poor girl died. Yet, my son has said nothing of this to the humans. Could it be he fears their wrath?”
We’ve stopped, coming to the end of the shore where a large cliff extends over the water, giving way to the enormous rocks the selkies and sirens are so fond of. I face her, searching her eyes for truth. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with my sister’s disappearance, would you?”
She laughs. “What use would I have for a filthy human girl?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I didn’t take her, nor did I kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I study her words, seeking every crack she’s left unfilled, every hole she’s left unburied. There’s a lot of room for deception.
“Now let me ask you a question,” she says. “And I’ll ask it directly. Will you or won’t you perform the Bonding ritual with Aspen?”
This surprises me. “What?”
“A simple yes or no. Will you or won’t you?”
“How do you know we haven’t already?”
She slithers closer to me, sniffing the air like she did the day before. When she pulls away, she laughs, amusement dancing in her eyes. “No, you haven’t. There’s a distinct smell about a human who has been Bonded with a fae. You don’t have it.”
“What kind of smell would that be?” I ask, out of defensiveness more than anything.
“It is nothing a fae can explain to a human. Just know it’s obvious to all of us that you aren’t his true mate, no matter how well you lie.”
“On the contrary, I am his mate. Your ambassador was here to witness the ceremony. We—”
“You and I both know that ceremony meant nothing to you.” She flicks her wrist in a dismissive gesture. “To be honest, it hardly means much to the fae. Aspen could have a hundred mates if he wished. It is but the first of three steps required to fulfill the treaty, and even if you were to perform the human wedding next, you’d still be missing a vital piece.”
“I don’t understand.” I regret the admission as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
Melusine lets out an exaggerated gasp. “You mean he hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?”
&
nbsp; Her lips pull into a sympathetic smile, making my blood boil. “What a devious boy he’s been. You see, if you fail to Bond before the timeframe given by the treaty, the pact will be considered void.”
My pulse quickens at her words. “You mean we’ll revert to war?”
“It’s obvious that’s what Aspen wants, otherwise he would have told you.”
My mind is reeling for the second time today.
“Now, Evelyn, I can see you are hurt by this. I can almost promise you, my son will only hurt you more the longer you are together. End this farce and return home to your people.”
“So we can go to war?”
Her tone darkens. “So we have a chance at securing the isle for who it rightfully belongs to.”
“Which you think means the fae. The unseelie. You want this war.”
She shrugs a delicate shoulder.
“Whatever happened to the mercy you felt after giving birth to Aspen?”
“That wasn’t mercy,” she says. “That was weakness. A symptom of birthing a seelie son. I made a bargain to end the war in exchange for his life. Once the human I’d made the bargain with died, my mind became clearer little by little. I was a fool to give up the isle. And I will never be that fool again.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because our interests are aligned. I know you don’t want to do the ritual. I don’t want you to either. Promise me you won’t.”
“I can’t make that promise,” I whisper.
“You can and you will. I know you don’t love my son. Set him free. Otherwise, the ritual will Bond the two of you by the power of your names. It is a terrifying thing to give one’s name to another, and a curse to have another’s name within your control. That’s just the Bond itself I’m talking about. Think of the other heartaches you could avoid by forgoing a relationship with him. Love between a human and a fae is a tenuous thing. It’s intoxicating but devastating. If he leaves you for another, mistreats you, your heart will break, cutting deeper than any normal heartache. If you stay together, he will resent you for standing in the way of his true nature.”
I think of Doris Mason, her lifeless eyes. Of her cousin who passed away from neglect. Is that the dark side of all human-fae pairings? And what about what Aspen said? How sometimes he thinks it would be better to give up the seelie way? Could I trust he won’t eventually turn unseelie in earnest? We’ll only be allies, not lovers, I tell myself, but it doesn’t give me comfort.
To Carve a Fae Heart (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 1) Page 22
