by Skye Horn
The members of her council glanced at one another, as if trying to decide who would speak, and Thea felt the corners of her mouth being pulled farther and farther downward with each passing second.
She tried to read their expressions. Had they discovered something about Ainé or Morrigan? Had there been an attack she wasn’t aware of? Did they need to prepare her for battle sooner rather than later? She’d only been telling them all of this for the past six months. They claimed she was nowhere near prepared to lead them into a war, but instead of training her, the council had been more worried about what she’d look like to the people. She’d become a symbol rather than an actual leader, and she’d hated every single moment of it.
These questions pounded through her head, but none of them matched the strange arrangement of words that erupted from Lord Brennan’s mouth.
“After quite a lot of discussion, we believe it would be beneficial to both you and our kingdom if you were to marry before your coronation.” Thea could see spit flying off his lips as he spoke the words quickly, and although she knew they were all awaiting her response, looking ready to dive out of sight from her reaction, a low buzz had formed inside her ears. It only grew louder as she replayed the words over in her head, as if that might change them.
“It will have to be a royal Fae, of course,” Lord Byrne added hastily from the farthest right seat of the semicircle. His eyes darted around to his fellow council members, but never dared to look at Thea directly. “Someone from another kingdom so you can rule side by side.”
Deafening silence fell over the council once more, and Thea’s fingers gripped the arms of her throne until her knuckles turned a sickeningly translucent shade of white. The buzzing in her ears only grew louder.
They believed she needed a man by her side to rule her kingdom. In fact, they’d had “quite a lot of discussion,” as Lord Brennan had so graciously put it, regarding the very topic of her marriage. And yet, none of that discussion had involved her. They’d decided her future without even bothering to consult her. Their nervous looks were completely understandable now, and Thea thought of throwing her throne at them to show just how unacceptable this situation was. She fought the urge though, realizing it might make things worse—if that was even possible at this point.
“Absolutely not.” She forced her voice to rise above the buzzing in her ears, but even with the extra emphasis, her vocal cords felt shaky and the words trembled off her lips. She dug her fingers harder into the arms of the throne, allowing the pain of the splintering wood to pull her out of the numbing haze she’d been trying to sink beneath. “I realize that I am new to being a princess and have no experience being a queen, but I don’t need a man to run my kingdom for me. I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”
She glared at each of them as her trembling words steadied, and then half-listened as they told her they hadn’t meant she needed a man to run her kingdom. Each member talked over the other, and as their voices rose, the room dissolved into the chaos of reasons she needed to listen to them.
She was done listening.
“The Goddess wanted you to bring peace!” Lord Walshe had risen from his chair. He puffed his chest, and his wrinkled face reminded her of ripened grapes as it darkened. Thea stood in response, towering over them all on her raised platform. Lord Walshe’s anger was nothing compared to the fire that burned beneath her skin.
“How dare you tell me what the Goddess wants when you refuse to spend any amount of energy to find her!” The buzzing returned as she met Lord Walshe’s beady black eyes. Her fingers, bloody from their grip on the now-splintered throne, curled into fists that shook, but she felt no pain—only numbness. “No one has heard from the Goddess in months and yet, you think it’s more necessary to continue to put off my coronation so you can arrange a marriage for me with a man who will run the kingdom for me? This is absolutely absurd!”
No one remained seated now, yet all but Lord Brennan took a step back from the venom in Thea’s voice. At least, that was what she’d thought they were shying away from until she felt the vibration beneath her feet. The growing buzz within her ears and shaking of her hands was transferring into the ground beneath her, a clear signal that she was losing control of her magic. Thea felt the heat within her palms where a soft blue glow burned as blood dripped from her fingertips onto the floor.
She bit her lip, forcing herself to take a seat with a steadying breath. As she closed her eyes, the magic calmed within her veins and the buzz of power subsided into only a soft vibration in her bones. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her, but she regained the control she needed before opening her eyes once more.
Her council stared at her with a mixture of relief and fear.
“I’m sorry, but it is absurd of you to think I will marry a stranger just because you tell me to,” she said, trying to soften her tone and settle the magic that wanted to lash out at each of them. This loss of control didn’t happen often, but when it did, she knew the tragedy it could bring and didn’t feel like displaying that in the small council chamber today.
“Princess Thea,” Lord Thompson, who was the only one who had stayed semi-quiet during this discussion, said. “Queen Ismara of Gimmerwich has a nephew. He’s only a few years older than yourself and quite handsome from what we’ve heard.”
Each of the council members nodded in agreement, as if being young and handsome changed everything. It made Thea want to yell all over again.
“If you married him, you’d be helping him rise in our society. Queen Ismara has raised him as her own son, but she has an adolescent son who has a rightful claim to her throne. Her nephew has nothing.”
“So you wish for me to give him a rightful claim to my throne?” Thea glared again.
“You would still be the Queen of Ivandor and would still make all executive decisions,” McCarthy stated, envisioning a light at the end of the horrible tunnel Thea found herself in. She didn’t believe a word he said, but the fact that this nephew was from Gimmerwich gave Thea an idea.
“Well,” she responded, and with a careful attempt to look like she was considering it, met each of their anxious gazes. “I’ve wanted to meet Queen Ismara for some time now.”
Just as Thea had expected, this caught the attention of every single council member. Lord Brennan was the first to speak up about Queen Ismara being an excellent role-model for Thea as the only other female leader in their lands.
“Her husband passed away from illness a decade ago, but she kept her people protected for the entire Dark War,” he said.
Thea had heard all about how protected the people of Gimmerwich had been during her father’s tyranny. Queen Ismara had sealed off the entire region the minute she heard Queen Brielle was dead, fearing that King Malachi would come for her next. There were few people who spoke of Gimmerwich kindly, remembering only their abandonment of the other kingdoms and people. Even her own council had mentioned their displeasure with Gimmerwich’s decision to remain neutral in the war. So why was it that the queen would open her wards to them now? Why even entertain the idea at all if she could remain behind the walls of her kingdom to hide from yet another war?
Perhaps she isn’t strong enough to continue hiding. Thea tucked that thought away for future reference.
“So, if I say that I will meet this nephew of hers…” Thea said, feigning hesitation. She still fought for control over the unstable magic in her veins, but focusing on one tiny glimmer of hope that she might see Kieran was enough to settle it for the moment.
“We could have you escorted to Gimmerwich within a few days!” Lord Byrne said, taking the bait that Thea had placed in front of them. That glimmer of hope blossomed into desire as Thea’s heart raced. She had felt nothing like that hope for quite some time now, but its very existence within her brought a sliver of life back to her soul. For the first time in six months, there was a chance for answers straight from the source.
“I’m not promising to marry
anyone,” she clarified, meeting each of their triumphant gazes. They were completely clueless of her actual intentions for going to Gimmerwich, and she planned to keep it that way. Thankfully, their experience with past compliant rulers, such as her mother, had blinded them. They met her with nods of agreement, but Thea realized that meant nothing. As far as her council was concerned, Thea would fall in love as soon as she laid eyes on the handsome Fae nephew of Queen Ismara. It made her want to roll her eyes, but she thought better of the action. “I’ve been wanting to visit the other kingdoms anyway, and it would be nice to see how Queen Ismara’s council addresses her suggestions.”
Thea let the last sentence hang in the air between herself and her council, enjoying the looks of unease that filled their faces.
“Have you decided who will be in your guard?” Lord Brennan asked to shift the conversation back into the council’s control.
“Not yet.” Thea averted her eyes, pretending to be interested in her injured fingers. She focused the magic which thrummed beneath the surface into her raw fingertips. Instant relief flooded her hands as the cuts healed themselves slowly. It was a neat trick that Iris had showed her before returning to Grimwalde. They had been training in one of the private courtyards of the castle, and Iris had been trying to teach Thea to use her wings not only as a means of transportation but as a weapon too. Physical training had become much more important to Thea since her fight with Malachi, but it was clear when Thea started training with Iris that Kieran had learned most of his tricks from his aunt. Iris won nearly every spar, and Thea ended up with bloodied knees and elbows to prove it. That was when Iris had showed her how to use her magic to heal smaller wounds. The magic couldn’t save a life, but it could at least take care of minor injuries.
“Choosing your guard is extremely important, Princess Thea. It will be difficult to get you to Gimmerwich without a guard to protect you.”
Thea looked up from her healing skin to meet Lord Brennan’s gaze. Choosing her guard would mean letting go of the shred of hope that Kieran might keep his promise, and given the fact that she now had a chance to confront him about that broken promise, she was not ready to give up on that hope—not yet.
“I’m sure that as my High Council you will come up with some way to protect me,” Thea said coolly. She stood, intending to leave before they could spring any more unwelcome news on her.
Seeming to understand that they’d gotten all that they could out of her for the day, the five council members lowered their heads in respectful bows. It was something she was not used to yet, but at this point she was just happy they were letting her leave. As she made her way down the steps from her throne and into the center of their semicircle, she said, “I’ll be prepared to leave by noon.”
Unsurprisingly, the council looked shocked. After her outburst, it was clear they hadn’t expected her to be ready to go so soon, especially considering how long she’d been putting off choosing her guard.
“But Princess— ” Lord Byrne began.
“Unless that’s too much to ask of you?” Thea said with a raised eyebrow at him. “I thought it was of grave importance for me to meet this royal nephew.”
“No, no. We will send a message to Queen Ismara.” Lord McCarthy cast a wary glance at his fellow council members. “And I will gather a personal guard for your journey myself.”
“I request that my handmaiden, Ethel, accompany me,” she blurted and received no arguments from anyone. “I also request that Mica, son of the seer Mirielle from Grimwalde, travel with us. It would be a learning experience for him, as he is training to join King Aragon’s army.”
Her last request gained a few wary glances, but no one told her no. This pretense to consider their arranged marriage proposal could benefit her, at least for the time being.
With a last nod, she headed for the door, eager to escape their expectant gazes for fear that they might see right through her plan. She had no intention of marrying the queen’s nephew, but if this was the only way she could see Kieran then this was what she’d do, whether or not he liked it.
“Leave us,” Queen Ismara told their two escorts as they led Kieran and Amara into the throne room. No questions were asked as the two soldiers exited the room and the door slammed shut behind them. Kieran moved first toward the throne where the queen sat, watching them with piercing silver eyes. He felt Amara sticking close behind him, hiding in the shadows of his massive wings.
“Queen Ismara,” Kieran greeted, lowering himself down onto one knee in front of her. “Thank you for allowing us into your kingdom.”
He knew the words did not drip with gratitude, but with the intensity of emotions growing within him.
Amara, who knelt behind him, kicked his leg as if to say “Get control of yourself.”
“You may rise, soldier,” she said and a rush of lilac-scented air brushed beneath his chin, raising his gaze up to meet the queen’s. Air, he told himself as the magic danced across his skin, pulling him to his feet. Amara didn’t dare move, keeping her eyes lowered to the ground. “And explain to me why you would bring the bastard daughter of Malachi to my court.”
There was no mistaking the anger in the queen’s voice or eyes, but Kieran stepped into her line of sight, as if it would protect Amara from anything the Queen of Gimmerwich did to her. He was only one soldier, but he hoped his next words would be enough to keep the peace.
“Milady, with all due respect, Amara is under the protection of the Princess of Ivandor.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Iris had asked him to protect Amara, and he knew she never would have asked such a thing if Thea were against it. He’d spent the last six months defending Amara from not only the angry villagers but also the royal Fae who recognized her. Being under the protection of Princess Thea carried a lot of weight throughout Faerie. In fact, it seemed to be the only thing that kept Amara alive.
The story of the lost princess of Ivandor’s return to Faerie did more than give the villagers hope. It intrigued the leaders of Faerie with the prospect of a new alliance. Ivandor had once been the ruling kingdom in Faerie; no one wanted to be on the wrong side of that kingdom by murdering the half-sister of its future queen.
By the look on Queen Ismara’s face, Kieran could tell she would not differ from the other royal Fae. She would not risk a future alliance with Ivandor over the life of a sixteen-year-old girl, no matter what that girl had done.
Amara released a breath behind him as the queen’s eyes focused on Kieran.
“I was under the impression that you are a soldier of Grimwalde, not Ivandor,” she said in a chilling voice that made Kieran’s heart clench. The tattoo on his chest burned as a painful reminder of his betrayal. He wished for nothing more than to be a soldier of Ivandor, but he could no longer go home—not after what he’d done to Thea. Not after he’d been the reason Morrigan escaped.
“I am a messenger of King Aragon, but I was born in Ivandor. I will always follow the orders of my queen.” His voice cracked on the last two words, despite the control he fought to keep. He couldn’t meet Queen Ismara’s gaze.
“You are as loyal as your father was,” Queen Ismara said with a tone of pride that drew Kieran’s eyes back to hers in shock. She noticed and added, “Oh yes, I knew your father. He fought alongside my husband when Ivandor and Gimmerwich joined forces.”
Before Malachi. The unspoken words rang through the air. Queen Brielle had agreed to an arranged marriage to end that war, but not before someone had killed King Rorie. Kieran had been too young for his father to tell stories of the war, but he recalled the haunted look that often found his eyes when the topic came up with his mother. They had all thought the marriage would end the wars… if only they had known what Malachi really planned.
“The past is a terrible place to linger, Kieran. But your loyalty is admirable. Your princess should be proud of such a man in her services,” the queen said, not unkindly, but with a tone of knowing that sent a chill down Kieran’s spine. No one kne
w about his relationship with Thea—if you could even call it a relationship—but something about the way the queen had spoken made it seem like she knew more than she was letting on. “I hope that you find your way back to Ivandor when this is all over.”
Kieran believed the kindness in her words, but it made his stomach churn to think of all the reasons he could never go back.
“King Aragon sends his regrets that he could not come to speak with you himself,” Kieran said, trying to steer the conversation away from his loyalty to Ivandor. He didn’t think he could handle feeling any more like a traitor than he already did.
“Ah, yes. It has been far too many years since I have seen my old friend. It saddened me to hear that he no longer travels, but we all must decide what is best for our kingdoms, of course.”
Like shutting your kingdom off from the world when we needed you, Kieran thought as his jaw clenched once more. He focused his attention on that fact rather than his suffocating guilt.
“I know what you must think of me,” the queen said without conviction. “But until you are in my position, I ask that you withhold your judgment of my decisions.”
Kieran felt as if someone had slapped him, but he kept his mouth shut. He convinced himself that no matter what, he would never abandon the innocent the way she had, but with thoughts of Thea still fresh in his head, he wondered if that were true. If it meant saving her, wouldn’t he abandon everything and everyone? Wasn’t that part of the problem? He tried to tell himself that he wouldn’t, but how could he really know?
