“Thank you,” Faythe called.
The ward paused to look back over her shoulder. She answered with nod and a small smile.
Faythe welcomed the solitude when the guards filed out behind her and the door clicked shut. She remained on the balcony, letting the cool, crisp air engulf her, while she pondered her new twist of fate. She looked past the sea of lights, over the waves of uneven rooftops, and reminded herself one of thing: Though she was now physically chained within the castle, her spirit would remain free and unbroken.
True to Tauria’s word, a short while later, there was a quiet knock on her door. When Faythe answered, two young women stood holding fresh clothing and a meal tray. Her stomach grumbled and ached at the sight, and she wondered when she last ate.
She let them inside and went immediately for the food they left on the dining table before even considering a bath.
“Is there anything else we can get you?” one spoke timidly.
Faythe looked up at her and smiled gratefully. They were both human, and it was a comfort she desperately needed. “No. This is perfect, thank you.”
The women looked a little taken back at her warm response, and it pained Faythe to think of what kind of reception the human servants in the castle were used to from the fae. They bent over in a short bow and went to leave.
“Wait,” Faythe said quickly. “What are your names?”
They blinked at each other and didn’t immediately respond. “I’m Elise, and this is Ingrid. We’ll be your personal servants, Lady.”
Faythe nearly choked on her bread. “Please—my name is Faythe. Just Faythe.”
Elise gave her a small answering nod.
Faythe had not expected to have anyone tend to her, and she would have refused their service, but she had to admit, having frequent human company might just keep her sane in this place.
“Would you like us to help you bathe and dress for bed?” Ingrid asked.
Faythe shook her head. “No. Thanks again, Elise and Ingrid.”
They both took their leave, and Faythe greedily devoured everything they had brought for her: stew and bread with a side of cheese, grapes, and wine. The food was glorious, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for fine dining while all the people she loved still lived in poverty in comparison. At least she knew Jakon would have all her coin from The Cave. It would keep him and Marlowe comfortable for a while.
She stretched from the dining table and wandered into the bedroom. Elise and Ingrid had laid out a short silk nightgown and a soft robe for tonight as well as a rather lavish gown for tomorrow. She was to be blended into the court as one of its ladies, so the fae wouldn’t undermine her presence when it came to the important tasks. They could dress her in all their best finery, but it would never disguise her human heritage, and she was sure she would never truly feel at home among the fae—at least, not under the current social divide and friction.
Tauria’s earlier words echoed through her mind, offering hope for the future.
There was a sharp knock on her door and then a pause before it opened. A familiar head of sleek black hair cautiously stepped inside, deliberately closing the door slowly to give her the chance to cast him out.
Nik lingered just in front of the closed doorway, and they stared at each other for a moment.
He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to see how you were settling in,” he said awkwardly.
It pained her to see Nik standing before her now as a different male to the one she’d opened her heart to. She pushed back the ache and huffed lightly.
“It’ll take time to adjust, for sure.”
He nodded in understanding. “The views are—”
“Why are you really here, Nik?” she cut in, not in the mood for idle chatter.
His face fell, and he came a few steps closer. “I need to know you don’t hate me for who I am.”
“I hate that you lied to me,” she admitted.
“Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
It was the truth, and she refused to meet his eye. Instead, she distracted herself with the folds in the dress splayed out on the bed.
He stepped closer again, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught his hand going to her face.
Faythe retreated a step. “Don’t,” she warned.
Pain flashed across his face. Then it was gone, and he straightened.
“We can’t pretend anymore—not here.” Her heart cracked. She couldn’t hide her sadness as she looked him in the eye. “You’re a crown prince and will one day be the King of High Farrow. Maybe not in my lifetime. We were doomed from the start, Nik.” She blinked back the burning in her eyes. It wasn’t just who he was; there had always been the fact of what he was that Faythe had tried so hard to forget. But no one could outrun time. She would grow old and pass away, while his immortality would keep him young and thriving.
She wanted so badly to take away the despair in his eyes at the cruel reality they had both avoided confronting until now.
“When you said the fae guard you felt for was never real…did you mean it?” he asked in no more than a whisper.
“Yes.”
He winced a fraction.
“And no.” She held his intense stare. “What we had between us was real. But I have no idea who you really are, Nikalias.”
He bowed his head in understanding. “Will you give me a chance—to find out? The real me, no more secrets?”
She smiled then—a warm, genuine smile. “I’d like to.”
His shoulders loosened in relief. “I will always care for you, Faythe.”
It was all the closure she needed. Though it was torture to have him close and not be able to find comfort in his touch, she would be able to move on knowing she had a true friend in him for as long as she lived. There was no denying the bond between them.
“I will always care for you too, Nik.”
They went out onto the balcony and sat chatting together on the cushioned chairs. She listened, awestruck, while he talked passionately about his life as the Prince of High Farrow. It was liberating to finally learn more about the fae male she had spent months in the company of—the one who had saved her from herself, and then from his father. Despite everything, she would always owe him a great debt for what he had risked—more so now, as she discovered how difficult it must have been for the prince to roam incognito through the town.
“Tauria seems like an interesting female,” Faythe commented when Nik mentioned the ward.
He huffed a laugh. “You two could wreak havoc in this castle.”
Faythe grinned wide, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, it was genuine happiness she felt. Her friends were safe, she was alive, and her ability had become her salvation instead of her doom in the face of the king. Her secrets were out and could no longer destroy her. She despised the reason why she’d ended up in the castle, but she was exactly where she needed to be—to find the temple ruin and free her soul, which was still anchored to the eternal woods. Whatever else she learned about herself from the Spirit Aurialis, she would be ready for it.
“I knew your path would lead you to the royal household. That is all.”
A small smile tugged at her lips in awe and disbelief. Whether Marlowe had known before exactly how she’d come to be here, Faythe couldn’t be sure. She supposed it didn’t matter.
She turned her head to look over the glittering city. If she had to now call this home, she could at least make the most of it.
With a mischievous smile, she said, “I can’t wait.”
Epilogue
- Reuben -
The faint intermittent scraping of scuttling rodents had been the only sound for some time now. Still, Reuben remained silently cramped in his small wooden cell, not even daring to breathe too loud. Every time a rat screeched or clawed at the ground, the disruption of the deafening stillness sent his heart into a frenzy.
He knew they had docked from the loud commotion of e
xiting crew members a while ago and the fact he no longer swayed nauseatingly with the motion of wild, thrashing waves. He was relieved he had managed to hold back the vomit that rose in his stomach too many times on their journey across the sea. He couldn’t be sure how many days had passed since leaving High Farrow or how many hours since they’d finally reached their destination of Lakelaria.
His whole body had ached during the first stretch of the grueling journey, and he’d tried to shuffle his position routinely as best he could within the painful confines of the crate. Now, he was completely numb all over and worried about the functionality of his limbs.
Deciding no one was coming back for the cargo anytime soon, Reuben braced his splayed palms against the lid above his head. His pulse drummed in his ears in anticipation of being free from his confines and setting foot on completely new land; unknown territory. He strained against the enclosure and would have tasted the fresh air sooner were it not for his dead muscles that were agony to stretch, protesting against the strength it took.
Finally, the lid popped off, and he slid it to the side with steady caution.
He tuned his hearing again. Silence. Though he couldn’t be sure if there were any fae stationed outside the ship, they were likely to detect him from inside if he was brazen in his movements.
Reuben was slow to rise from his crouched position as pain started shooting up every muscle and bone that had sat dormant for days. He knew it was dark in the cargo hold from the small cracks in the barrel, but he could barely make out the distorted shapes of the other containers around him when he fully emerged. He felt around and braced against the solid form beside him. Then, as stealthily as he could, he hauled himself free at last.
When his feet met solid ground to stand straight, he almost buckled under his own weight. He took a moment to stretch and then reached back into the barrel for his very few belongings. Turning, he spotted a rectangular slither of light: a door! The only one he could see. He crept toward it, wincing with every creak of the cursed floorboards.
When he crossed to it, he paused for a moment to press his ear to the exit. Nothing alerted him to any man or fae within hearing distance. With his heart a wild rattle in his chest, he grasped the handle and slowly pulled it open. He dared a wary peek out the door first, finding no bodies in the dimly lit cabin—to his great relief.
Reuben didn’t have a plan, but once he made it off the ship, he supposed he would be able to find another human and beg for refuge…if the fae didn’t catch him as a stowaway first. He was never blessed with the skill of stealth—not like his childhood friend, Faythe. The thought of her, the thought of every friend, and his mother! He’d been forced to leave them behind, and it sent him into a dark pit of despair. He couldn’t think of them right now. Not until he at least got to safety, or he would be crippled with grief.
Reuben felt the wisp of wind before he found a sure exit off the ship. He followed that wind, and it took him up a set of narrow, winding stairs, down another damp and dingy hallway, until…
The outside at last!
Moonlight signaled the way out where it pooled in from a doorless gap at the end of the passage. His steps quickened, so eager to feel the force of fresh air on his face that he momentarily forgot his life depended on him being slow and quiet. He approached the exit with caution, stopping to crane his neck around and scan the main deck. Surprisingly, there was not a soul—man or fae—left on the ship or the sandy shore.
Reuben straightened and strolled out of the cabin.
Out in the open, he filled his lungs with the salty fresh air and welcomed the blissful freedom. He didn’t feel the need to hide or remain inconspicuous as it was clear the docks were abandoned and unpatrolled during the night. A relief, since it was unlike High Farrow where fae soldiers crawled at all hours.
He disembarked the ship with a slight skip in his step. Perhaps this kingdom wouldn’t be so bad after all if they were lax on security and control.
The thought made him smile, and he crossed the sandy shore to head into the woodland. It reminded him a lot of Westland Forest, though he supposed little could be different about a woods. It was too dark to pick out anything that might set the scene apart from his homeland. It was quiet, however—almost too quiet—but he put that down to the late hour and the fact there maybe weren’t as many small woodland creatures in Lakelaria.
There wasn’t much he could remember about the mighty land from old teachings in school, but he knew from maps that Lakelaria was famously named for its channels of water that ran throughout the kingdom. There was one chilling tale that had stuck with him since childhood though. This was once a kingdom ruled and occupied by the sirens, who held the ability of song to lure man into their waters. Of course, it was all myth and scary stories, but Reuben would be keeping far away from the lake paths…just in case.
Walking through the crooked rows of trees, he was eager to get out of the woods that were starting to make his skin crawl. But he stopped dead in his tracks, certain he caught one of the skinnier tree trunks…moving.
His calm heart picked up a rapid, uneven rhythm, caught between remaining paralyzed in fear or taking off in flight. He decided on something in the middle, pressing forward slowly while clutching the straps of his backpack painfully tight should he need to make a run for it.
Capturing another flinch of movement out of the corner of his eye, he whipped his head around.
It could just be the leaves.
He reeled in his panic. There were infinite things that moved in woodland areas; his mind was simply jumping to irrational conclusions in fear, triggering mild paranoia that he was being tracked. Still, he quickened his pace.
Just as he took his next step and a branch cracked underfoot, all went black.
Reuben cried out when something was thrown over his head, followed impossibly quickly by someone restraining his arms and binding them behind his back. He didn’t even catch a breath before he was fully captured by his stealthy assailant.
“Please! I—I mean no harm! Please, let me go!” Reuben cried frantically in his panic.
No one spoke back to him. Still, he knew the first attacker wasn’t alone when he felt an arm hook around each of his elbows and begin to drag him away. He didn’t have it in him to fight as his crippling fear froze his movement, triggering an incoherent slur of pleas and protests instead.
His captors paid him no attention and didn’t loosen their grip or slow their fast pace that had Reuben tripping over his own feet. He soon gave up trying to walk and let them drag him.
It was the most agonizingly long few minutes of his short life, and it shook him into a frenzy to imagine they would be his last if he was being led to his death. He heard the screech of door hinges, then he felt the change in the ground. His toes didn’t turn up dirt or catch over sharp branches. Now, they glided over a far smoother and much more even surface.
Then they halted, and he was suddenly released.
Reuben went from dangling limply in his captor’s arms to falling against the cold ground, his shoulder taking the brunt of the force thanks to his bound hands. He shuffled himself to his knees, and then the bag over his head was roughly snatched away. His neck snapped back painfully with it, and he blinked rapidly to the beat of his heart as he adjusted to his new surroundings.
He was now indoors, in a shoddy hut that was barely illuminated by some nearby torches. He glanced to his side and shrieked, flinching back at the sight of two huge fae males, cloaked and hooded in a black uniform. He knew that uniform, and when realization hit, Reuben thought he would pass out from the wave of flashbacks to his last encounter with such a force.
Valgard.
He stared at them wide-eyed and wide-mouthed, unable to speak, move, or switch emotion from cold-blooded terror. The fae remained stationary and didn’t return his stare as they stood straight and poised, eyes fixed behind him.
The floorboards creaked, signaling a new presence in the room. Reuben snapped out of his
shock to whip his head around. Only, when he did, he wasn’t met with the death-promising, brute-force male he expected.
Instead, his horror soothed into gawking awe at the tall female fae who emerged from the dark hole in the wall. He was struck by her beauty—it was matched by no fae or human he had seen before. Her hair blazed such a dark amber it was almost red, and it moved like real flames. Her face was delicate, pale, perfect. But when he looked into her eyes…
He’d seen those eyes before—their color.
No. It’s only a coincidence.
She came to a stop in front of him. The female crouched down to where he knelt paralyzed by bewilderment more than fear. She wore a feline smile that made every hair on his body stand on end. She was beautiful—but dangerous. He didn’t know what it was, but something told him not to be fooled by her graceful exterior. With the beauty of the leopard came the capacity to kill.
Finally, the temptress spoke. “Yes,” she said in an elegant melody. “I think you’ll be of great use to me.” Even her voice sounded not of this world; hypnotizing.
And he felt it too, as he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Perhaps he was still in a deep stupor at the thought of who else surfaced in his mind at seeing her eyes—eyes of glittering gold. There was only one other he knew whose irises shared such a color, except the female’s in front burned slightly brighter, almost glowing, in comparison. The ethereal beauty’s rouge painted lips twitched in a cruel smile that had him trembling violently. Reuben stared and stared into those blazing orbs, straining his mind to not let the face morph…into Faythe’s.
The story continues in…
A Queen Comes to Power
- COMING 2021 -
When courts collide, blood may be spilled. But when destinies collide, blood may hold power.
An Heir Comes to Rise Page 35
