by H. L. Burke
To Court a Queen
H. L. Burke
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Copyright © 2019 H. L. Burke
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Dragonpen Press
To Han:
I know.
—Heidi
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Devin should’ve never wandered from the path.
As the glinting spear tips of the fairy soldiers lowered towards his chest, he thought back on how he should’ve known better—did know better. However, with daylight fading and his map showing that the path looped around a stretch of land he could easily cut across to get to the human village on the edge of the great forest, he’d listened to his weary feet and hungry belly instead of his common sense. Now, staring at the moonlight glistening on the silver helmets of the fae, he cursed his past self and the bravado that had drawn him from the relative safety of the road in favor of the ever-shifting trees and strange patches of mist beneath them.
He considered going for the short sword at his side. However, considering how swiftly the fairy folk had appeared around him, materializing from the mist itself, he wasn’t foolhardy enough to believe that he could take even one of them down before they skewered him—let alone all twelve. No, his only hope was that they were feeling merciful. Not likely considering the stories of disappearing men and transformed maidens commonly told about the Fairy Wood. Best case scenario, they were feeling sporting and would turn him into a stag to chase down, rather than just kill him outright.
The fairy directly in front of him, the one with the long purple plume on his helmet, lowered his spear. Cold eyes gleamed through the lace-like metal work of the fairy’s visor.
Devin cleared his throat. “Look, there’s been a mistake, and it’s my fault, I admit it. I got lost. I wandered into your territory, and I know that’s bad, but trust me, I’m just as eager to get out of here as you are to see me out.” To cap off the camaraderie of his words, he added a wink.
The fairy recoiled. “You are a man?” the fairy said in a high, feminine voice that sent a jolt through Devin. Somehow he hadn’t anticipated female soldiers, even among the fairies.
“Last I checked I met the qualifications for that label, yeah.” He forced a chuckle. Sure, it was poor lighting, but after a week journeying in the wild with no access to a razor or soap, he felt a little too manly even for his own taste.
The plumed-helmeted fairy sniffed and turned to her companion. “We can head back to the palace now. We’ve got one.”
“Olysa, do you think that’s wise?” the second replied, her voice likewise revealing her as female. “He’s human. What will Queen Agalea say?”
“She said to find her a man, Cress. She didn’t specify what race. It’s not like we can afford to be picky at this point.” A surprisingly strong hand clamped down on Devin’s shoulders. Now, knowing that the soldiers were all, apparently, female, he briefly considered fighting his way out of it, but even as he weighed his options, the trees about him swayed, their sturdy trunks wobbling like stalks of wheat in a breeze. A prickling sensation crept through his body. His senses blurred, and he had just enough time to curse his past self and his arrogant shortcut one more time before his knees hit the damp grass of the forest floor and all went black.
Devin’s mind regained consciousness far before his body. His eyes remained pasted shut, his muscles limp and useless, and his tongue swollen and dry. The only outside sensation that penetrated his cocoon of senselessness was the disconcerting one of drool running down his own chin. Well, it could be worse. At least it wasn’t other substances running down his trouser leg. After a failed attempt to assert control over his own body, he lay in the dark inside his mind and glumly considered the circumstances that had led him to this fate.
There was the ill-considered shortcut, of course, but if he were honest, that was only the last in a long series of misadventures that had turned him from the sufficient if not promising squire of his youth to the penniless, luckless knight who now found himself marinating in his own saliva. First there had been his choice to go adventuring rather than take up duties at court or go on a nice, respectable crusade. It wasn’t that he had any aspirations towards heroism—his mother liked to tease that he’d been born a cynic—but the idea of being stuck in one place, or maybe worse traveling but not by choice but by command, made his skin itch like the one time he’d rolled in prickle vine during a juvenile fight (the other guy got it worse, and that was all that mattered).
Errant leave had not gone as hoped. A few bad investments—well, gambles—had cost him his horse, his good sword, and most of his travel fund. For every successful or enjoyable adventure he’d stumbled upon, there’d been another that cost him dearly in wealth and comfort, to say nothing of his pride. He’d been on the way home, ready to crawl back to his small family estate, every bit the prodigal, when he’d decided to take one last risk: an innocent shortcut through the woods.
His body hit the ground with a jolt that penetrated his magic-induced stupor and sent his ears ringing like church bells on Christmas morning. He doubted this particular ringing heralded any sort of merriment, however. Putting all his willpower into a single eyelid, he somehow managed to pry one eye open.
His cheek flattened against a cold, smooth surface he suspected to be marble or some other form of polished stone. Whatever it was reflected light into his one open eye and sent it squeezing shut again. His head throbbed in protest.
“Is this really all you could find, Captain?” a haughty female voice scoffed.
“Yes, your majesty, it is,” Olysa replied. “We searched every settlement within your realm and found no eligible males. If we hadn’t stumbled across this trespasser, we would’ve returned empty-handed.”
“Which I expressly forbid.” The queen’s tone sharpened.
“Yes, your majesty, and we would never defy your direct orders.” Olysa’s voice dropped to a whimper.
“See that you don’t.”
Something prodded Devin in the ribs.
“He doesn’t look like much. Human, obviously.”
“I believe so, your majesty, though I haven’t seen one in decades. Most are smart enough to avoid our realm.”
The queen laughed. “So he’s not just a human, he’s a stupid one. Perfect! Really, Olysa, you couldn’t have chosen a worse candidate for my future consort if you’d tried.”
Devin gulped for air. Consort?
“I understand, your majesty, but even with a prize such as yourself, the number of men who have died during the trials has the male population spooked. This man, while he may not be the ideal catch, is a stranger to our land. Even when he inevitably fails, seeing that another has taken the challenge might embolden others to do the same.”
The blackness around Devin’s mind faded to gray, then white, then with one final effort, he forced his eyes open and stared up at two fairy women. The first wore armor that mostly masked her feminine figure. However,
she now held her plumed helmet under one arm, revealing snow-pale skin that glistened like diamonds and long, lavender hair carefully plated into tight braids. Her tapered ears pricked through her purple locks to sway over her head almost like feathers.
At her side stood a woman with similar pale skin, but her hair shone in glittering sapphire waves, held up in a net of silver and diamonds. In contrast to Olysa, she wore a filmy, sleeveless gown the color of water over rocks that left no question of either her femininity or her shapeliness. Most eye-catching, however, were a pair of peacock-patterned wings that rose from her back like the sails of a ship. His throat tightened. Not just a fairy, then, but a powerful sorceress. According to his mother’s stories, as well as the study he’d done before setting off on his adventures, only the most magical of the fairy race could manifest actual wings.
Her pale-blue eyes narrowed at Devin who became acutely aware that he was sprawled on the floor in a messy heap, his cloak wrapped about his body, his face smushed against the floor.
Immediately he tried to rise, but found himself as unsteady as a newborn calf. He floundered to escape his own garments in a way that very much resembled a netted fish trying to flop back to water.
“Is he half-witted?” Queen Agalea didn’t bother to lower her voice.
“Not to my knowledge, my queen. I think it’s just the stupor I put him under to be certain he came peacefully.” Olysa knelt and tapped Devin’s forehead. Immediately strength flooded through his limbs.
Hopping to his feet, he pushed back his cloak, revealing clothes that, while travel worn, had once been well-tailored. A twig tumbled out of his hair. He grimaced but resisted the urge to pick through his locks to dislodge any other souvenirs he’d collected from the forest floor.
With at least some of his dignity salvaged, he did his best to scan the room for potential escape routes without turning his head or being too obvious about it. They appeared to be in some sort of foyer. The walls were white wood with pillars of still-living birch trees marking the five corners of the room. In the center sat a throne of braided silver and gold flowers behind which stood two guards, dressed identically to Olysa, only with their helmets still on and spears in their hands, and a woman in a brown dress, notably plain. She carried a platter heaped with fruits, nuts, and a loaf of golden-crusted bread. Devin’s stomach grumbled. He quickly averted his gaze from the food, and accidentally made eye contact with the serving girl.
Her dark eyes pierced him. While still fair, compared to the snow-white fairies, she had a more pinkish tone. Her blond hair was long and a bit unkempt, held back by a single leather cord. Only her ears spoke to her being anything but human, but even those did not resemble the other fairies’. They were long, but not as long, and capped with tufts of golden-brown fur, almost like a wildcat’s. Perhaps some sort of elf? He’d heard that elves could be kinder than fairies, though this one appeared to be here in some sort of servant-role. She probably wouldn’t have the power to help him even if she wanted to.
“Well, at least he’s tall.” The queen’s words drew his attention away from the servant girl. She stepped closer to him and traced her finger lightly across his jawline. Magic, wild magic not like the scholarly sort practiced by human wizards, hummed in her touch, a quivering, living thing struggling to break free from beneath her skin and … and what? What was she going to do to him? Devin managed to keep still though his pulse pounded.
She continued her inspection. “Nice broad shoulders, too, though the hair—” She tugged painfully at a section that had flopped over his forehead. He grunted and flinched away. “Ugh, it’s the color of the mud by the river’s bank, and his eyes nearly the same. Why must humans come in such dull shades?”
Pride bristling, Devin scowled at her. “Well, I guess we can’t all be butterflies. Some of us folks have to be moths.”
Her mouth wrinkled. “Well, he’ll have to do. After all, if he’s not worthy stuff, he won’t make it past the first challenge.”
“What challenge?” Devin stepped back. “Look, I’m sorry I trespassed. As I told your guard, I didn’t mean to, so is there any way we can just forget this whole thing ever happened? I’d like to continue my journey.”
She arched an eyebrow. “No, you aren’t leaving.” With that she spun around, her wings battering his face like a slap from a lady’s fan at a dance. They folded behind her to resemble a cape and didn’t seem to hamper her as she sat on her throne. “I have long desired to find a worthy consort, a mate to help me continue the royal line. Unfortunately, it is so hard to judge a man’s character these days. Few heroes exist with deeds to prove their value.” She leaned closer. “Because of this, when the time came for me to seek my mate, I devised three trials, through which a man could prove his worthiness to rule at my side …” She fluttered her eyelashes. “And share my bed.”
Heat washed through him, and he shifted from foot to foot.
“Unfortunately, only one man has ever gotten as far as the second trial—and he failed that rather than reaching the third.” She sighed. “Ah, the days of true heroes are long past. A queen such as myself deserves a mate who will be spoken of in legend for centuries to come, and I can’t even find one who can pass three simple tests.”
“That’s rough.”
If the queen caught his sarcasm, she didn’t reveal it. Directly behind her, however, the servant girl’s lips quirked in a barely perceptible smile. Well, at least someone was amused by the situation.
“Still,” Devin returned his attention to the queen, “maybe some of your suitors want to give it another go. First thing I learned in jousting, if you get knocked off a horse, you don’t throw away your lance. You get in the saddle and try it again. Maybe with what they learned in the first try, they’ll get farther on the second.”
The queen arched an eyebrow. “How very motivational of you, but I don’t have patience for failures. Those who fail, well, let’s just say they won’t be trying again, unless we open up the trials to ghosts.”
A chill swept through Devin. With the way this conversation was going, plus what Olysa had said during his capture, he had a bad feeling where this was going.
“Look.” He backed a step up only to hear a forbidding crash. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a set of silver bars blocking the room’s only apparent exit.
The queen’s mouth hardened. “I’m offering you the chance to fight for my hand. A chance to win my hand. To be the consort of the most powerful and beautiful queen in fairydom, if not the world.”
“I’m a bit of a confirmed bachelor is all.” He swallowed. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather leave more interested parties to fight for your hand.”
She bolted from her chair, literal lightning flashing from her eyes. A bolt of it crashed into the floor before him. The air crackled with energy. Devin gasped for breath, gaping at the blackened scar left on the marble floor inches from his toes.
“You insult me? You suggest the opportunity to win my hand is not worth risking your pitiful life?” Her whole being quivered, and from the sparks circling about her head, another burst of rage-induced hellfire was imminent. “I should turn you into a rat for your insult! No! A toad! No!” Her smile broadened. “A worm which I will cut slowly into smaller and smaller pieces—”
“Hold up! That’s not necessary! I didn’t mean it like that!” He held up both hands. His pulse threatened to drown out his ability to think.
The sparks quieted to a static but still crackling halo around her head. “How did you mean it then?”
Uncertain what else to do, Devin said a quick prayer. Lord, I know You don’t approve much of lying, but if You could grant me the ability to convince her this one time, I’d appreciate it.
He stuck out his bottom lip ever so slightly and widened his eyes, an expression that had worked on more than its share of barmaids and innkeeper’s daughters. “I only mean that I don’t see myself as worthy of you. I’m not a fairy lord, nor even the son of a mortal king
. Only the least of knights. Surely you would not have me compete for a hand better men have failed to win. I am beneath your notice, even to bother slicing me to bits in worm-form.”
She tilted her head to one side. “This is true.”
“We could just kill him, your highness,” Olysa whispered. “If you don’t think he is worthy of your trials.”
“I suppose if he doesn’t want to compete, then there’s no need to keep him around. Might be easier just to transform him into a frog.” Queen Agalea shrugged and extended her hand. The tips of her fingers glowed an amphibious green. “Garden snakes will take care of him soon enough—”
“On second thought, I would be a fool to turn down the opportunity to fight for the hand of the most beautiful, gracious, powerful queen in all of fairydom!” The words escaped Devin in a panicked rush. “Perhaps I may not be worthy, but how can I know until I’ve had a chance to face your trials? I swear, my queen, to give it my all, in the hopes that I may at least live in your presence a little longer … as a man, not a frog, preferably.”
The queen’s brow furrowed. “Are all humans so fickle? First you do not wish to marry me. Then you claim you are not worthy to compete, and now? Now you wish to face the challenge, even having admitted your own unworthiness?”
He forced a smile. “Your beauty is making it hard for me to think. I’ve never been in the presence as one such as you. It is overwhelming, to say the least.”
“Perhaps that is understandable.” She rested her hand on her knee. The green glow blinked out as she drummed her fingers gently against her skirt.
“What should we do with him, my queen?” Olysa whispered. “Should we announce that we have found another competitor?”
“For now it seems we have, but he is obviously of an indecisive and impressionable nature.” Agalea stood. “Yes, announce that we will begin the trials in a few days, once the preparations have been made. However, have the hounds assigned to him. In the event that he wavers in his resolve and tries to flee, they will keep him here. It would not do to announce the trials only to have no competitor when the day arrives because this one developed cold feet.”