by Amelia Shaw
This world couldn’t really be a Fae world... could it?
And yet this wasn’t a dream, it was far too real, so that begged the question, with all the power and magic the Fae had, why didn’t these people look after themselves better?
A group of women walked past, and my gaze grabbed onto the features of their faces. These were the first group of actual people I had seen since stepping into this realm and I wanted to see what sort of feeling they carried with themselves. I frowned.
Unlike Abigail and Horlow’s realm, where the people thrived, strong and happy, these Fae people seemed under nourished. Cheekbones stood out prominently, like sharp edges to a weapon. Their skin was dirty and their hair was unkempt. How was that possible? Were they not meant to use their magic to feed themselves, perhaps?
I kept my questions to myself, though I was dying to ask. But I’d promised not to say anything, and just observe. So, I did. I didn’t want them to overhear my ignorance and get offended because of it. I didn’t want to upset them in any way.
Tavlor, still holding my hand, pulled me up the streets that led to the main castle on the top of the hill.
When we approached the main door, my father went ahead and introduced himself to a guard in a shabby grey uniform, explaining that we had organized a meeting for today. And if he had, that had been fast work on his behalf.
I could feel the eyes of the people around me, boring into the back of my head. Did they know who I was? What I was? Clearly, we didn’t belong here, which might be the reason for this inquiring gazes.
“Come,” my father called, and together, we walked through the locked doors and into a drafty old castle
I suppressed a shiver as I stepped through, snuggling deeper into my cloak. I might not have wanted to wear it, but it was doing its job of keeping me warm.
I glanced around. Where were the comforts I’d come to expect from anyone magical? The clean rooms. The heating. The opulent rugs and flooring.
This was all so... medieval. But not just medieval. It was cold. Uncaring. As though magic didn’t exist here at all.
I shivered despite my attempts at keeping myself warm, unease moving through my veins. Was this what my father and Tavlor had spoken about? How rough, and extreme these Fae were? Obviously, they hadn’t meant it in a magical sense. Perhaps it was more barbaric? This was the sort of realm I’d be interacting with if I were to be High Warlock? I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle myself here.
We continued to walk through the dark and dank corridors. The guard us lead into a room I had to assume was where the royalty lived.
I stopped in my tracks and my mouth dropped open. “Oh, my...”
Was this where all the magic in the entire kingdom was housed? Was it even possible to store magic away from the people, away from everyone else like it was a physical representation of power?
The room was amazing, with shimmering silver walls, goldthread curtains, and marble floors.
There were tables of opulent flowers and platters of food, obviously nutrition that his people had no access to.
In every corner stood a guard, massively built and heavily armed. They looked straight at us, their bodies unmoving, but their gazes assessing us.
In the center of the room sat the king of the castle. Or whatever he was. Draped over a throne, his shirt undone, a half-naked woman in his lap.
I swallowed hard as feelings of embarrassment rose in my throat. I had never seen something so vulgar before, and considering my father was right next me did not help things.
The woman was beautiful, amazingly so, with long, curling blonde hair and lustrous skin. She wore nothing above her waist, and a long, purple skirt pulled up around her thighs.
A gasp sounded in the room as she arched her back and shoved her breasts into the king’s face. He groaned, dropped her head, and licked her pink nipples, then poured red wine from his goblet all over her soft skin.
She giggled and moaned as though she were about to mount him. If it wasn’t for Tavlor’s fingers intertwined in mine, I would have run from the room.
They didn’t even notice us. They didn’t care that there were others in this room, that we were watching such an intimate act.
How was that appropriate behavior when expecting guests? Especially the High Warlock of the Magical realm.
Or didn’t they know who was visiting today?
But as the King Fae lifted his head and smiled at my father, I knew we were expected. If anything we were, quite obviously, welcome.
“Matlock! Come in. Please.” The Fae King beckoned with a spare hand.
He pushed the girl out of his lap, and she staggered over to the table with caskets of wine and other drinks set up against the wall.
She giggled as she poured more wine into a goblet.
As we walked forward, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Her breasts were even nicer close up, perky and full and round. And her skin was immaculate.
I forced my gaze back towards the king, who was drinking from a glass and staring at me with an expression I could only interpret as... interested. Lustful. Clearly, he had no idea I was Matlock’s daughter, or he would never be staring so brazenly at me, as though he could claim me as his with a single smile.
Tavlor’s warning growl was obvious even to my ears and the king laughed.
“Oh... half breed. Calm down.” He looked towards me with a smile. “Has the bastard child been claimed already?”
My eyes widened. So he did know who I was. At least, he knew what I was.
I glanced at Tavlor and back at the king.
“I’m sorry... are you talking about me?” I asked. I knew I was supposed to be quiet, but I couldn’t help myself.
The king sat up straighter, then stood up, his shirt gaping open. He was fitter than I’d imagined, and looked about thirty years old, with shoulder length black hair and keen, bright green eyes. “And you are, little one?”
“The bastard child?” I said and instantly wanted to kick myself.
So much for keeping quiet.
The king began to chuckle.
My father stepped up, in front of me, as though to shield me from the Fae King.
“King Ankor. Thank you for allowing us to visit you. I wanted my daughter to see some of the realms that the Council oversee.”
“Oversee?” The king laughed. “Is that what you call it?”
I stepped forward, next to my father. “Thank you for having me. It is nice to meet you.”
Tavlor moved up next to me and bowed, deeper than I’d ever seen him subjugate himself before.
He spoke a few words in Faerie, I assumed because I couldn’t understand a thing he said, and the king nodded. The gesture, I had to assume, was a good thing.
Then his gaze came to rest on me.
“So... Ava... you are the heir that no-one knew about,” he said. There was an arrogance to his stare. My instincts wanted to punch the arrogance off his face—or, at least, magic it away—but I needed to behave. I couldn’t let another leader get to me or there was no way I’d be respected as High Warlock.
If I wanted the position. I still wasn’t sure.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah... including me.”
His eyebrow quirked up and for the first time I really looked at how strong, and handsome, he was.
His jaw was angled and his ears were pointed, but he had a strength to him that I liked.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I sighed and glanced at my father for approval. How much of my story was I allowed to share?
When my father didn’t say anything, so I assumed it was all right to keep speaking.
I inhaled through my nose and chose my words carefully. “Well, my mother kept me hidden in a private realm for my whole life. She only revealed to me about ten years ago, who my father was.”
He nodded. “That would have been... enlightening.”
I laughed out loud. “Well, yes, but I’d never left the private realm I
grew up in, so I took it with a grain of salt that the man who had sired me was some sort of... ruler. I had no idea that when I came looking for my father, that I’d stumble into...”
“This...” He held out his hand and indicated to the opulent room.
I shook my head. “Ah, more like... the Council, the bounty hunters, jail.”
He grinned at me, his teeth white and straight. “The Council doesn’t like anything new. Nor anything different. And you, my girl, stirred them up like a tornado.”
I glanced from my father to the Fae King.
How did he know that?
Chapter 12.
I HELD MY BREATH, WAITING for the Fae King to continue. He didn’t. Instead, he buttoned up his shirt, his fingers moving with grace and dexterity. It was like he was waiting to say something more, holding me captive for as long as I would allow him to.
I shot him an annoyed look.
He grinned, making sure I saw every single one of his glossy white teeth.
“So, princess... what would you like to see? What would you like to know?” he asked.
I pointed to the girl that still stood at a nearby table, half naked and staring at us.
“Could she, like... put some clothes on?” I asked, shifting with unease. I didn’t want him to know I was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t concentrate, feeling her stare on us, on me, like she thought I wanted to take the Fae King away from her.
I was already happy with my own Fae, thank you very much. I had no interest in this one.
The Fae King laughed. “Why? Is she... disturbing you?” He emphasized the word, trying to annoy me further.
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to let him shame me for feeling disturbed. I figured honesty was the best policy. “To be honest... yes. She is.”
How could I lie about that since I could feel the blush on my cheeks, the heat on my neck and face?
He shook his head as though amused. “Oh, you young witches. So... fragile.”
“Fragile?” I repeated. Young?
He nodded but didn’t say anything more.
“Ah, how old are you, exactly?” I asked. Why had he called me ‘young?’ Especially when technically, although I was only twenty-three, he looked about ten years older than me.
But I had learnt from the other Fae I’d met, that age with them was not easily identifiable.
“Eight hundred. Or so.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “We stop counting the years after a few centuries. That half breed you’re with... is a baby in comparison.” He gestured to Tavlor with a smirk. “He probably doesn’t know much in many areas, especially areas that might mean a thing or two for a female witch. Tell me, does he please you? Perhaps don’t answer that.”
I tilted my head to the side, ready to play his game. “Why? Because my father’s here?”
“I could care less about your father being here,” he said dismissively. “I just don’t think you would know pleasure if it slapped you in your pretty little face.”
My back straightened and I narrowed my eyes at him. Under his good looks, he was pretty damn ugly.
“No need to worry your pretty little head about my pleasure,” I returned with a sneer. “But, since we’re on the topic, sure, let’s talk about my beaux. Let’s discuss the elephant in the room. He’s a half-breed, sure, but there’s something else that annoys you more than that, isn’t there? He’s more powerful than you... isn’t he... King Ankor?”
I raised my eyebrows as though I was waiting for an answer to my question, though it was clearly rhetorical.
Angry clouds rolled in over the king’s face. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. He snorted and moved too quickly as he paced in front of his throne.
Oh, my god. I’m right!
I refrained from doing a little dance of happiness. I had taken a shot in the dark and I hit my mark dead on.
Tavlor truly had inherited the best of both races. No wonder neither the Fae nor the Warlocks liked him. He was genuine proof that our people would be stronger if we bred together.
Then the cloud of anger disappeared, and the king began to laugh. Like, really laugh. The way my sister Courtney did. With full acceptance of the situation and the fact you may look a fool.
He sat down, then moved to the edge of his large throne and looked down at us.
His gaze moved to my lover.
“Tavlor, how... how have you found someone like this in such a short amount of time?” he asked. It almost sounded as though he knew Tavlor, but I couldn’t be sure if that was just the king being arrogant or the two did have some sort of history together. “Despite my long life... I have not known this type of... devotion.” He waved at hand to gesture to me and shook his head as though in disbelief.
I glanced at Tavlor, who didn’t move. And didn’t speak. But I could feel the pride he felt from the king’s words.
I turned back to the king who was shaking his head and laughing still. I felt myself relax. There did not seem to be an animosity, at least, not right now. That could change, but for now, it seemed okay.
“All right. You need to see my kingdom. Let us go.” He stood up and one of the male servants came forward. The king grabbed the large black cloak the servant offered to him.
“Come with me, my dear,” the King said, offering me his arm as he sauntered towards us. “I’m sure neither of your escorts will object.”
I glanced over at my father, then at Tavlor, who had been watching and listening. Exactly what I was meant to be doing.
He was right. They couldn’t object to such a simple thing, could they?
I took the arm he offered, tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow, and glided with him through the opulent room, towards the grand entrance.
I looked up at him, catching his gaze and admiring the bright green of his eyes. “I was worried about coming here. You know?”
The king patted my hand. “Yes. I do. We’re a dangerous race, are we not?”
I shrugged as we moved through the arid halls and moved out into the fresh air.
I shivered, the atmosphere wrapping around me and chilling my nose. It was cold, much colder than I remembered walking in.
“I don’t actually know about your race in general,” I began. “But I... feel the danger in Tavlor, the barely contained violence. The other Fae I’ve met have all been very kind. And knowledgeable. Powerful beyond belief.”
The king stiffened, the muscles beneath my hand growing harder.
“That’s good to know, but not Fae from my realm I have to assume,” he said, steel behind the soft words.
It sounded almost like a veiled threat, though I didn’t understand why.
“No. It wasn’t. Why do you ask?” I said.
We continued to walk through the streets, and I cringed at the way the people were living. The dirt on the children’s faces, the unkept clothes.
Where were the schools? The hospitals and facilities? Or did they not need such things here?
“Your father has not told you about my realm, has he?” The king asked, his tone gentle, his arm stiff.
I shook my head, pulling my gaze away from a particularly dirty Fae child with sharp cheekbones that spoke of starvation rather than genetics. “No. I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Do not be sorry. I... like that your father did not influence you before you got here. Although I doubt you are influenced easily.”
I grinned. “You’ve got that one right,” I said, nodding. I didn’t want to admit it, but the king was more charming than I anticipated him to be. He was arrogant, certainly, but he was good at lessening the arrogance and replacing it with an easy smile or a complimentary word. “Why do you think I’ve had such trouble with the Council?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything, as though he was taking in everything I was saying and assessing me. He was calculating. I couldn’t trust him, not yet. As much as I was a little more comfortable in his presence, I still couldn’t be sure he didn’t want something from me.
I glanced behind me, noting that my father and Tavlor were still following us, but at a little bit of a distance. They weren’t talking, but watching us and the people around.
I put my focus back on the King. I had to ask. I knew I probably shouldn’t, but it was practically bursting out of me.
“King Ankor, please forgive my impertinence if I offend you, I would never mean to,” I said quickly. I was trying to slow down and really think about what I was asking, but the words came out too quickly and I couldn’t.
“Ask whatever you wish to ask, Ava,” he said, flickering his eyes down to me. “I will not be offended. Not today.”
Not today... Interesting...
“Okay. Thank you.” I took a breath and ploughed forward. “Where is all the magic? Do you have... rules, on what your Fae people can do with their magic? Or...”
Did he take all the Faerie magic for himself? I didn’t want to ask because that definitely felt like an accusation.
The king glanced over at me, his eyes searching for an answer I obviously didn’t have.
“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked in a soft voice, his lips nearly tickling my ear.
“I wouldn’t ask if I knew,” I said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his nearness bother me.
He sighed, almost like he was tired of the game. “You are an... unusual witch, Ava.”
I laughed at that one. “I have been told that on occasion. Not growing up in the magical realm has its perks, I suppose.”
I sighed and glanced up at him.
Some days, I wasn’t sure if I was mad at my mother from keeping me away from all the things the magical realm could have offered me growing up, or if I should be grateful to her forever, for sparing me the damage that may have been done. It all depended on my mood, and it changed constantly.
“You have taken the half-breed as your lover,” the King said, rather abruptly. It was a statement rather than a question, especially considering he already knew Tavlor and I were together.
I bit my lip to stop myself from lashing out.
“I want you to know that I hate that term,” I said, trying to keep my patience. He was a king, after all. I still needed to be respectful.