Destined For The Fae King (Mated to The Fae King Book 2)

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Destined For The Fae King (Mated to The Fae King Book 2) Page 11

by Bailey Dark


  I sigh and straighten in my chair. “My apologies, my mind is preoccupied. Verity has made a decision on a wedding date.” The councilors murmur happily at the news. I wait for them to fall silent. “She wants to be wed six days from now.”

  The councilors’ eyes widen with surprise as they sit in shock. “That’s impossible, we need more time to ensure our allies and trade partners can arrive comfortably,” one of them blusters. “We must ask the Curse-Breaker to reconsider.”

  “Impossible,” I say. “I’ve already tried. On this, she won’t be swayed.”

  “Then we need to spread the news immediately,” Thal says.

  I nod. “I will go myself; I can cover the distances in a day.”

  The councilors mutter at my announcement, pursing their lips. They aren’t pleased that I’ve kept the ability to change into my beastly form. They find any reminder of Maaz’s power over us unpleasant. But if I have the power, I say why not use it.

  Thal leans forward, clasping his hands together. “I’ll go, I can be your emissary to at least a few of the kingdoms. Send out your fastest ships and ambassadors to the rest.”

  “You? Taking on a responsibility?” I cock a brow teasingly and grin.

  He shrugs, chuckling. “What can I say? You’ve inspired me.”

  I press my lips together, considering his proposal. “You would likely only make it to Canes and Mensa, perhaps Stellium.”

  Canes and Mensa are important trade partners, our politics are different, but they are peaceful neighbors. It’s vital that their ruling family can enjoy the wedding. Stellium is our greatest ally and has been since my father’s rule. An island kingdom, they’re lands are filled with sands and tropical trees. They rely on trade and a fair relationship with us for the rest of their goods. In return, we get exotic spices and a powerful naval ally. Stellium’s ruler, Queen Haru, must be at the wedding.

  “I will make it to all three,” Thal assures me. “Lend me the Wind-Singer.”

  I bark out a laugh. The Wind-Singer was my father’s personal sailing vessel. It hasn’t seen the open ocean since his death, though I’ve kept it in good condition. “You want my father’s ship?” I chuckle.

  Thal looks at me seriously, and I know he isn’t joking. “It’s the fastest ship in Alnembra.”

  I purse my lips thoughtfully. “If you wreck it, if there’s even a small scratch on the hull, I’ll cut off your most prized possession, Thal.”

  “I spent almost a century at sea.” Thal grins. “I’ll be gentle.”

  I shake my head, a smile pulling at my lips. “Go now.” I wave my hand to the door. “Bring a scribe with you, have them draw up invitations on the journey.”

  “As you will,” Thal says, rising. He flashes me a grin from the door and bows his head sharply.

  I trust Thal more than any of my councilors combined. My cousin was spoiled rotten for most of his childhood and adolescence. In the end, as the youngest of his brothers, he had no claim to a position of leadership. So, he carried on his carefree ways and eventually no one expected anything of him at all. But I’ve always known how loyal he can be to someone he thinks deserves it. I trust him to get my allies here in time for my wedding.

  “This meeting is adjourned,” I say to my councilors. “I need to meet with the scribes and ambassadors.”

  Without waiting for my councilors to disband, I stride from the room. I climb the staircases to the south tower where the scribes do their work near the messenger doves. I take the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding with excitement. Finally, Verity and I will be wed. Finally, the curse will be permanently removed. The marriage might even save Verity from herself and the Bloodbane clutches.

  I push open the warped wooden door at the top of the stairs and step into a brightly lit room. It’s scantily decorated, every surface covered in books, papers, quills, and ink. A lone scribe sits in the middle of the room, the scratching of his quill on paper filling the silence. I approach. He doesn’t look up. A smile tugs at my lips as I wait, hands clasped behind my back. The scribes never paused in their work to honor my father either, it’s just their nature. Their loyalty is to pen and paper, not men.

  Finally, the scribe gently places his quill on the desk. He turns to me, his wizened face lined with wrinkles. “Your Grace,” he murmurs, dipping his chin.

  “I need invitations to my wedding drawn up immediately,” I say, taking a seat across from him.

  “Certainly, how many?” He dips his quill into his bottle of ink.

  “Twenty, for now,” I say. “How soon can you be finished?”

  The scribe methodically and slowly jots down notes on his paper. “The end of the day, I’m sure.”

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I need them sooner than that.”

  “What is the rush?” He asks, raising his brows.

  “The wedding is in six days.” I grimace.

  “Six days?” His furry brows shoot up even higher in surprise. “Your Grace, the time –”

  “I know,” I say forcefully. “Have them finished as soon as you can, make it a priority. When you’re finished, find me.”

  I rise as he dips his chin in acknowledgement. I leave the old scribe to his work then. As the door closes, I hear the soft scratching of his pen against paper, moving quickly this time. I hurry down the stairs towards my ambassadors quarters to give them their instructions. They haven’t been sent to the neighboring kingdoms yet, I was waiting until I felt that Alnembra was prepared to open relations again. But now there’s no time to waste.

  Suddenly, as I’m striding through the halls, I’m wrenched backwards. I whirl, snarling, but find Navi panting, her eyes wide. “Navi,” I say, anger disappearing at the sight of her. Worry swirls in my chest, I haven’t seen Navi look so fearful since the curse took hold. “What is it?”

  “An army,” she pants. “Our scouts have spotted a Bloodbane army only a week’s march away.”

  My blood runs cold. “An army?”

  “Demons.” Navi shudders. “They said they looked like demons.”

  Fury and fear lance through me. I have no doubt that Maaz somehow got her hands on creatures from the ether, perhaps through some sacrifice and ritual to Sadal Melik. “How many?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “At least fifty thousand,” Navi says, her voice soft.

  “Fifty thousand?” I echo, my eyes wide.

  “A host like that would decimate our armies,” Navi murmurs.

  I narrow my eyes at the stone floor. “Shit.”

  “Altair,” Navi says, drawing my gaze towards her. “They’re on the move.”

  “Get our armies together immediately. I want all of our men stationed along the border and I want our scouts watching the enemy very carefully. If they so much as piss, I want to know about it,” I snap.

  She bows sharply and jogs down the halls. I watch her disappear around the corner towards the barracks and rake a hand through my hair. I lean against a nearby wall, my gut coiling with fear. I had known that Maaz wouldn’t leave me and my people alone, but I didn’t expect her to find a formidable force so quickly. Alnembra’s army is only starting to recover from the thousand-year curse. Our forces are low, and many of them lack training.

  I bite down hard on my lip and push away from the wall. With war on the horizon, a wedding may not be possible. If the demon horde marches into our borders within the week, there simply won’t be time for it. And I won’t invite my allies to Alnembra on the brink of devastation.

  There’s an open window nearby and I climb onto the lip of it, staring down at the gardens three stories below. Without hesitating, I throw myself off of it. In mid-air I let Maaz’s magic flow through me and change me into my beastly form. I spread my wings wide and catch the wind just before I hit the stones below. Quickly, I soar towards Desmarais’ bay, where the Wind-Singer will still be anchored.

  My shadow passes over Desmarais below, and my people glance upwards as I pass. I beat my powerful wings as the mast of
the Wind-Singer comes into view. The deck is a flurry of activity, with Thal at the helm shouting orders. He looks up as my shadow darkens the deck, but he doesn’t pause his preparations. I land deftly, the ship rocking slightly under my sudden weight.

  “Altair,” he says, tightening the moorings as I pad towards him.

  “There’s an army of demons from the ether on the move towards our borders,” I say softly, not bothering to shift into my Fae form.

  Thal pauses, his eyes widening slightly before he gets back to work. “What do you plan to do?”

  “I want you to go to Mensa and Stellium, bring them the invitations. Don’t mention the threat of war, but I want them here in three days if possible,” I explain.

  “And Canes?” Thal asks.

  “I will go to Canes myself,” I say, looking east. “He has the largest land army on the continent. I’ll need it.”

  Thal shakes his head. “If he accepts.”

  I growl low, feathers ruffling. “He will accept.”

  “Good luck, cousin.” Thal meets my gaze, pausing in his work.

  I dip my chin towards him. “Same to you.”

  Thal turns to his men. “Get your asses moving!” He shouts, shoving a sailor aside to take over.

  I launch myself from the deck, rustling the white sails of the ship. I head east, towards Canes. The Wind-Singer falls behind as I fly, and soon Desmarais is gone as well. I soar over open fields and forests, apprehension nestling in my gut. The great city of Civisilva is on the horizon as the sun reaches its apex in the sky. Civisilva is the last city in Alnembra before the border we share with Canes. The second largest city in Alnembra, it was built on an ancient ruin from a long-lost civilization. The forest has still reclaimed it, and its people live in harmony with the trees jutting through their homes and buildings, vines climbing all over the walls.

  Verity would love Civisilva. My heart pangs at the thought of her. I want my Verity to return to me. I want to travel the world with her, to show her the vast and distant lands of this realm; places that used to be only fantasy to her. I fly low over Civisilva, peering down at the crumbling roads and roofs. When I return, I’ll tell her of this place. Perhaps that will draw her away from the Bloodbane, if she had something else to occupy her.

  Civisilva disappears into the forest as I cross the border into Canes. King Moritz has made his seat in the city of Suden, on Canes small coastline. It takes me less than an hour to make it to the city, and the sun hasn’t yet begun to set. Suden is built on an incline, the highest point of which is Mortiz’s castle. I only hope Moritz doesn’t take it as a huge offense that I’ve arrived alone and unannounced.

  I drop down outside the castle gates, amid a chorus of shouting. The people shriek, darting into alleys and down the road at the sight of me. Soldiers run along the ramparts; crossbows aimed towards me. I shift back into my Fae form and raise my arms to show that I have no weapons.

  “I’m King Altair of Alnembra, here to see His Grace, King Moritz,” I announce, shouting so my voice will carry to the soldiers.

  A guard in the red armor of Canes’s armies’ jogs towards me. He studies my face and then shoves his sword against my back. I wince as the sharp point of the blade pierces through the leather tunic I wear. He urges me forward through the gates. I drop my arms and eye the soldiers as I pass. They stare emotionlessly at me, a well-trained unit intent on protecting their king.

  Inside the walls, the grounds of the castle are nothing but stone. No trees line the walls, no grass grows. The castle is made of gray stone, drab with small windows. I haven’t met with Moritz for a thousand years, since before Maaz cursed me. Our last meeting wasn’t promising.

  I’m led through the grand doors and into a great throne room. It’s three times the size of my throne room, with ceilings so high they disappear into shadows above me. Huge columns line the room, holding up the grand ceiling. My footsteps echo loudly as I approach the dais where Moritz is waiting on his throne. The dais is a full head higher than me, I crane my neck to look up. Moritz gazes imperiously at me, wrapped in a heavy red cloak despite the heat of summer.

  His golden hair glimmers in the light of the torches that line the walls. His sharp eyes match perfectly with his sharp jaw and slim nose. Delicate and yet covered in hard edges, Moritz looks even more imposing than he did the last time we met. A thousand years my senior, he’s ruled since I was a baby.

  He stares down at me, colorless eyes glimmering. “You arrive unannounced outside my castle; in the beastly form you wore for the last thousand years. What is the meaning of this?” His powerful voice is at odds with his slim frame.

  I dip my head in a shallow bow. “My apologies, King Moritz. But I have urgent business with you and little time.”

  “Come,” Moritz says, rising. He strides down from the dais to stand before me. He purses his thin lips and waves away his soldiers. “Follow me.”

  Moritz leads me out of the throne room, towards a small door hidden behind one of the huge columns. He slams through it, not bothering to hold the door for me before it slams closed. Biting back an insult, I push through, following him towards the desk that sits in the center of the small room. I look around, taking in the book cases that line the walls and the various maps pinned to boards throughout. There are no windows, the only light coming from the chandelier above the desk and the blazing fireplace.

  I tug at my collar, loosening it as heat washes over me. Moritz looks comfortable in the heat. He drapes his cloak over the chair behind the desk and sits down stiffly. I wait until he offers me a seat before following suit. I can feel sweat beading on my brow as the fire blazes.

  Moritz eyes me. “I haven’t seen you since before the curse. I heard you managed to find a mortal woman to break it. A Bloodbane woman.”

  “She’s not a Bloodbane,” I say bitingly, lounging back in the chair.

  He shrugs. “Enough pleasantries.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I can’t imagine what he considers uncomfortable if he insists that our abrupt conversation was pleasant. “Why have you come?”

  “I came to personally invite you to my wedding,” I explain. “Verity and I will be wed in six days.”

  “Short notice,” Moritz quips.

  “My apologies,” I say, dipping my chin again.

  “I’m disappointed in you.” Moritz shakes his head. “You seemed promising before Maaz cursed you. Now, I’m not so sure. But so far, I’m less than impressed.”

  I bristle. “Circumstances outside my control have forced my hand.”

  “You are a king,” Moritz says bluntly. “There are no forces outside your control.”

  I inhale sharply at his brusque words. There isn’t time to argue the finer points of duty. “There is a second reason for my visit today,” I say. “A Bloodbane force of fifty thousand is marching on Alnembra.”

  “And yet you are planning a wedding?” Moritz’s eyes glitter.

  I purse my lips. “It’s necessary. The curse, you understand.” I don’t wait for Moritz to reply before pushing on. “My army can’t protect my people from the enemy forces. We need more men.”

  “My men, I presume,” Moritz says. He leans back in his chair, looking thoughtful.

  “Maaz won’t stop at Alnembra’s borders – you know that,” I say fiercely. “We need to stop them where they stand, before they grow more powerful.”

  “You may find that allies are in short supply,” Moritz says. I narrow my eyes. “Rumors are swirling that your mortal woman has an unhealthy interest in the Bloodbane.”

  I purse my lips, fury lancing through me. There aren’t many in the castle that know of Verity’s recent change in behavior. But I won’t tolerate a spy in the midst, or a gossip. “I don’t know what you mean,” I say stiffly. “Verity comes from the mortal realm; she knows nothing of magic and witches and Fae. She’s simply curios.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity,” Moritz murmurs.

  “Yes,” I say softly, my eyes flashi
ng angrily. “I know what they say.”

  Chapter 18

  Cleo

  This mortal body is strange, I think as I study her pale, thin arms. Sadal is gone, having ensured that the spell went smoothly, he disappeared soon after. I almost felt sorry for the mortal when I saw her staring at Sadal, hoping he had answers for her. I clench my hand into a fist and then stretch out my fingers, testing this new body. It’s weak, and I don’t sense much magic in it either. I scowl, it will be difficult to cast spells in her body while maintaining my own enchantment. I’ll have to be careful.

  I stride through her room, towards the balcony where the precious Bloodbane text was abandoned. My reflection in the mirror catches my eye and I pause to study myself. To study her. Verity’s eyes are the same pale blue that Maaz and I share. Her hair is a dusty brown shade and pulled into a loose braid. Her ivory skin is pale, a sickly pale with little color in her cheeks. I wonder if her coloring was always this way, or if it has something to do with her relationship with Sadal.

  I pity her for falling so easily to his guiling ways. But Sadal has that effect on most people he meets. He had that effect on me once. Verity’s eyes grow dark as I think of my early years with the Bloodbane. So many nights spent waiting for Sadal, craving him. I grew out of my fascination for him quickly in comparison to most. For that I’m grateful.

  I take one last glance at this new body in the mirror before moving to the balcony. I collect the text and tuck it away in a secret place. When I accomplish my goals here, I will take the text back with me to the keep. Under Maaz’s rule, we’ve lost many records and created even less.

  I glance out the window and see a shadow streaking across the orange-hued sky. The sun is setting, and I spot the beastly form Maaz cursed Altair to wear in the sky. I smile as he draws closer, admiring his magnificent wings. It wasn’t much of a curse, in my opinion. She made him stronger, fiercer, and angrier. She made an enemy.

  I turn away from the balcony as Altair disappears over the castle turrets. I smile to myself; I’m looking forward to this next bit. I hope that Sadal is keeping his demonic horde from the march long enough for me to make my move against Altair. My plan is a delicate one, but in the end, it will be much more successful. If Maaz had any brains at all, she would have thought of this years ago. I sigh, shaking my head. If I had any guts at all, I would have suggested it long ago and saved the Bloodbane from hundreds of years of suffering.

 

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