Fates Entwined

by Jules Barnard

  Keen didn’t bother with the nonsense of formal court dress. He was a soldier. He wore his uniform—black pants tucked into Fae military boots, and a black long-sleeved shirt that magically protected against extreme weather.

  The dress Keen had provided for Reese when she’d first arrived was a servant’s gown—it was also the most modest of the palace attire. He’d known it would enrage her, given how little she wore in the Earth realm, but he couldn’t help himself. Though he wouldn’t admit it if asked, he enjoyed riling the small human. She was most entertaining.

  Little did he know she would retaliate with the red dress.

  Reese had never backed down from him—a situation he found as infuriating as it was intriguing.

  He sighed. If he made it out of New Kingdom with the girl safely, it would be a miracle.

  Keen spotted Portia and Marlon at the head of the ballroom, dressed in full noble regalia. He placed his hand lightly on Reese’s lower back and guided her over.

  Portia took in each of them as they approached, her eyes narrowing on Reese’s gown.

  Keen quickly tipped his head in a shallow bow. “It is an honor to be here.” He nodded to Marlon, who never seemed to stray far from Portia’s side.

  Smart Halven. Regardless of Marlon’s current alliance, Keen’s people despised him. Should he leave his protector, he would find himself at the end of a sword.

  “Yes, an honor,” Portia said absently, still staring at Reese’s dress. “She does clean up nicely, does she not, Marlon? Quite beautiful, this one.”

  Portia’s thoughts were a jumble, cleverly hidden from Keen’s abilities, but Marlon’s mind was more transparent.

  Marlon’s gaze flickered to Reese, then drifted off. He felt no familial connection or care for his half-sister.

  Considering Marlon had had Reese thrown in the New Kingdom dungeon, Keen wasn’t surprised. Nor would he ever forget what Marlon St. Just had done to her, or his people. If it hadn’t been for Portia’s protection, Marlon would have been a dead man the moment Keen set foot on Tirnan soil.

  “Our guest this evening will arrive soon,” Portia said, searching beyond them. Her gaze drifted to Keen. “I believe your association with her will prove most fruitful. I am eager for the two of you to be reunited.”

  He nodded, not allowing his surprise to show. He had no knowledge of a special guest tonight.

  Reese glanced between him and Portia. She seemed to concentrate particularly hard on the queen. Her attention was so acute that he looked down to study her face. If only he could read her thoughts.

  “May I have this dance?”

  Keen had been so focused on Reese he hadn’t noticed another Fae approach. He glared at the man standing behind her, waiting for her reply. Wearing slim chartreuse pants and a deep navy tunic with flounces at the wrists, the man was clearly a dandy, with dark blond hair slicked to the side and jeweled rings on several of his digits. Not noble, but higher in the ranks than most.

  Keen rolled his eyes, but Reese smiled over her shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak.

  “No, you may not,” Keen said before she could reply.

  She shot him a look of annoyance.

  “Now, Keen,” Portia said, “if the girl wishes to dance, she may dance. We want her happy.”

  Since when did Portia care about Reese’s happiness? Portia kept the girl alive because she wanted to use Reese in some way Keen hadn’t yet figured out.

  Reese seemed confused by Portia’s sudden change of heart as well, because she looked at the queen in the same concentrated manner she had a moment ago.

  “Shoo,” Portia said, and waved Reese away. “Dance. Be merry.” With a shallow smile, she peered out over the dancers, searching again. For the surprise guest?

  Perhaps a dance would not harm the girl. It was early yet. A single glass of brune would make a human pass out, but it took much more before his kind became intoxicated. As long as the dandy kept his hands to himself, all would be fine.

  Reese accepted the Fae’s outstretched arm, and Keen watched them walk off.

  “She is safe,” Portia said, eyeing him. “Now, about our guest. It has been a while, but I’m certain you will remember her. Ah”—Portia stared past him, smiling—“here she is now.”

  Keeping a close eye on Reese as she whirled about the room in the arms of another, Keen paused to glance at the entrance.

  And met the gaze of an Old Kingdom companion from his youth.

  “Illa Radnor,” Portia said in greeting once Illa had made her way over. “I assume you remember Keen of the now deceased Albrechts?”

  Interesting that Portia chose to point out Keen’s solitude in Tirnan—no family, few he’d call friends. A situation similar to hers.

  The only true ally Portia had was her daughter, Beatrice, who’d made few appearances these last several days. Portia’s old friends had been the New Kingdom royal family, Elena’s ancestors—and the first people Portia had murdered in order to rule New Kingdom.

  “Greetings.” Illa smiled brightly.

  Keen nodded. “It has been many years.”

  “It has.” She blushed and looked at Portia.

  Portia stepped closer and linked Illa’s arm through Keen’s. “Far be it from me to intrude on a wonderful reunion. You must dance. Go, go—” She waved them off the way she’d done with Reese and the Fae courtier Keen was still keeping an eye on.

  Reese and the Fae dandy had finished their dance and stood off to the side talking, Reese smiling at something he’d said.

  Keen frowned. He took Illa’s hand and led her to the dance floor. They danced for a moment before he asked the obvious. “Why did Portia bring you here?”

  Illa looked out at the crowd, a smile on her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Her mind was filled with New Kingdom guards twirling in pirouettes like ballerinas, but something else he couldn’t quite piece together flashed in the background. She was attempting to block her thoughts. Most weren’t as adept at blocking their minds as Portia. Given enough time, he’d figure out what Illa was keeping from him, but he wanted to know now. “You could not have changed this much in the quarter of a century since we last spoke. You were a bright girl—world-wise in the ways of the royal families. So I’ll ask again: why are you here?”

  “Such a charmer.” She cut him an irritated, but playful glance. “I see nothing has changed.”

  He snorted. “I am still the masterful warrior Niall predicted I would be. And still irresistible.”

  “Still arrogant.”

  He grinned. “It is good to see you too, Illa, though I must insist on an answer to my question.”

  She peered in the direction of Reese and the dandy. “Who is the girl?” The question was light, curious. And a direct attempt at avoidance.

  Keen nodded at a passing soldier. “What girl?”

  “The one you can’t keep your gaze off—the Halven, if my senses are correct. Even in Old Kingdom we’ve heard of her capture.”

  Keen’s back tensed. “I am here to ensure her safety while she resides in New Kingdom. Nothing more.”

  “Truly?”

  Illa had known him well when they were younger. It seemed she still knew him. “Of course.”

  She made a sound in the back of her throat. “Very well. Keep your feelings for the girl to yourself. They are of no concern to me. As for why I’m here… I’m to become your bride.”

  9

  Keen might be a soldier, but he’d grown up in the Old Kingdom court. Old Kingdom rarely held soirees and social gatherings the way New Kingdom did, but he was still expected to know how to dance. Despite his skills on the dance floor, he nearly stumbled at Illa’s words. “My bride? Were we promised without my knowledge?”

  Illa smiled at Portia, who was watching them from afar. “Of course not. Your new queen wishes the union. We are of royal blood and full Fae, unlike the current ruler of Old Kingdom.”

  Derek. Portia wanted to take control of Old
Kingdom from Niall’s son, the Halven. And it seemed this alliance would make her quest easier.

  Keen had known there had to be more to his bargain with Portia. She’d been too eager to allow him to stay and care for Reese. She’d ordered his fealty, and it seemed she wished to control his personal alliances as well.

  He glanced down. Illa was a beautiful woman with light brown hair and dark blue eyes, and a flawless oval face. She didn’t possess a dimpled chin, golden hair, and a full, obstinate mouth that told him what he could do with his orders.

  Any Fae would wish for an alliance with Illa, given her beauty and lineage. She was calm and obliging. She didn’t take Keen too seriously, which was to her credit. But he felt nothing romantic for her. She did not set his blood on fire. That the small Halven did was most vexing, and something he refused to give in to. He’d not make the mistake his weaker brethren had by succumbing to the allure of a pretty human face. Keen was considered one of the strongest soldiers in any of the realms. He was the last of his family line, and he would not disgrace himself or his name with a human or Halven dalliance.

  He looked over at Reese and found her gaze on the woman in his arms, a frown on her face.

  Despite Keen’s decision never to be with Reese, her unhappiness had a most unsettling effect on his temperament. He didn’t like to see her upset. “I will speak to Portia,” Keen said. “There is no need for us to marry if neither of us wishes it.”

  “You may try, but my father sent me.”

  Keen studied her. “Does he know…?” He must not give away too much.

  “That the Halven held captive wears his emblem? Yes, he knows.”

  Keen let out a deep sigh. Portia and Illa’s father, Hakon Radnor, must already be negotiating for Reese if Illa was here speaking of marriage. But what was the ultimate goal?

  An alliance between Keen and Illa would smooth the way for Portia to gain power in Old Kingdom, though Keen didn’t know how much power he could possibly wield after having been gone so long. Portia handing over Reese into Radnor’s care must be the price she was willing to pay in order to gain the union between Illa and Keen.

  Surely Reese’s own father would not hurt her? He seemed devoted to Illa, and he’d been more forgiving of his Halven son, Marlon, than any human or Fae could have expected him to be.

  Keen glanced at Reese again—and halted in the middle of the dance floor. Four men surrounded her. She was smiling, but that was no reassurance. The men were circling her like the predators they were.

  “Where are you going?” Illa called from behind as Keen stormed across the ballroom.

  “This old thing?” he heard Reese say as he approached. “Oh, it’s just something the palace ladies put together for me.” She whirled in a circle and her gown billowed out, showing off her flawless figure.

  The guards and courtiers leered at the glimpse of Reese’s legs, then caught sight of Keen. They slowly moved away from her. Probably due to the lethal look he leveled at them.

  Taking in the expressions on her admirers’ faces, Reese turned around. “Is there a problem?” she asked Keen.

  He stared at the backs of the retreating cads. “You will remain at my side from now on.”

  “Excuse me?” she said. “Pretty sure I’m safe in a ballroom with my guards surrounding me, including you. Or is it the other men who worry you? They’re very friendly. This party was just getting fun.”

  Keen grabbed her hand to drag her back to her bedroom, when Illa, whom he hadn’t noticed following him, spoke up.

  “Keen,” she said in her gentle voice. “Will you introduce me to my sister?”

  Illa smiled at Reese as Keen said, “This is Illa Radnor, your half-sister.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you. Please excuse my fiancé’s behavior. He’s being unpardonably rude.”

  Reese’s jaw dropped. Her gaze landed on Keen with the force of a tumbling boulder. “Fiancé?”

  “Well.” Illa blushed. “Soon to be. Isn’t that so, Keen?”

  “No.”

  Illa shook her head. “You may speak to my father, but there is no way around it.”

  Reese hadn’t tried to pull out of Keen’s grip, so he began to drag her away again. “We shall see.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Portia sweeping across the room, her expression stiff with anger.

  “What is the meaning of this?” She glared at Keen’s hand clasped around Reese’s.

  He slowly let go of the girl and pulled his shoulders back. “It isn’t safe for Halven among our kind. There is no reason for her to be here tonight.”

  “Oh, but there is. I wish everyone in the palace to witness your declaration to me. In fact, I see no reason to wait any longer.” She turned and clapped her hands. “Begin the ceremony,” she called.

  The ballroom was crowded—dozens of conversations going on at once, music floating out—but at the queen’s order, the music stopped and the room went silent.

  Reese stood beside Keen, staring at the ground, which concerned Keen more than the angry look she’d leveled at him moments ago.

  Servants entered the grand ballroom and rolled out a narrow red carpet with golden embroidered vines climbing the edges. The crowd parted down the middle, giving them space.

  Portia strode the carpet and swept her gown forward to sit upon the massive gilt chair at the head of the room. Marlon slithered up and stood beside her.

  Portia flicked her fingers for Keen to approach.

  He hesitated. Catching Ulric’s eye several feet away, Keen tilted his chin up, signaling for the guard.

  Ulric walked over.

  “Stay with her,” Keen said, and Ulric nodded, moving closer to Reese.

  “Wait.” Reese grabbed Keen’s arm, pulling him aside. She swallowed, her breaths shaky. “Don’t do it. Her emotions—the queen’s—they’re a storm. So much anger. I can’t explain it, but no one has emotions like hers.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You can’t trust the queen.”

  “Of course I can’t. But what is this about her emotions?”

  Reese shook her head. “They said I would have powers. I don’t know if this is a part of it. If it’s a precursor, or just something weird among Halven and Fae, but…I can tell what someone’s feeling. Except for you; I’ve never been able to tell what you’re feeling. That’s why I wasn’t sure if it was a magical ability or something else.” She glanced at the dais. “But with Portia, there’s no question. I know her emotions like I know my own.”

  Keen stared at her. “It is not a Fae or Halven thing. There is no such intrinsic ability, but I’ve heard of others possessing this power. We call them empaths.” He let out a deep breath. “It makes sense—your not being able to read my emotions. I’ve never been able to read what you’re thinking either.”

  She shook her head quickly, as if to clear it. “What are you talking about?”

  He glanced at Portia, who spoke quietly into Marlon’s ear as he leaned toward her. “There is no time. We’ll discuss it later.”

  Reese rubbed her temples. “Look, all I know is that you can’t bind yourself to that woman. She’s evil.”

  Keen had known this moment would come. That he’d officially pledge himself to Portia in front of noblemen and kingdom—and he no more wished for it than Reese did. Once he pledged himself, he could not betray Portia—without dying. But tonight’s oath was a formality. The deal had already been struck inside the queen’s chambers days ago.

  He touched Reese’s shoulder. “It is the only way.”

  “The only way to what?” she called as he walked off.

  To keep you safe.

  10

  Reese stood helplessly as Portia’s personal guards divested Keen of his weapons and he knelt at the bottom of the steps to the throne.

  The red gemstones of the gold circlet on Portia’s head winked in the ballroom candlelight. She peered out as though ensuring she held everyone’s attention. “Keen Al
brecht, last of the Albrecht line, do you swear loyalty to me, your lady and mistress, to protect above all others?”

  Keen was the decisive sort, but he seemed to hesitate.

  Portia’s gaze dropped to the top of his head, anger, thick and ropy like sap, stretching off her. But there was no need for such emotion, because in the next moment, Keen’s beautiful, deep voice rang out.

  He said the words Reese had begged him not to. The words that sealed his fate…

  “I do.”

  For a moment, it seemed the floor had dropped from beneath Reese’s feet. Bad enough she found herself irritated watching Keen dance with a beautiful woman—her sister. But this? Pledging himself to someone Reese could only describe as pure evil? So wrong. How could it be the only way? She couldn’t stand by and watch.

  Everyone in the room stared, fixated on the proceedings. Reese quietly and very slowly slipped toward the back of the room. Not even Ulric noticed her leave his side. Like many, he seemed distracted, a storm of emotions whirling through him—banked frustration and anger, mixed with resignation.

  Reese watched as Portia touched a golden sword to Keen’s head, her own frustration rising. Finally at the back, she spun around and exited, alone for the first time since she’d arrived. The guards at the door gave her a passing glance, but they didn’t stop her. And why would they? She was one Halven among hundreds of Fae nearly twice her size. And Reese’s special power?

  Fireball creator? Nope.

  Massive, inhuman strength? Not that either.