by Gia Blue
I didn’t want their blood on my hands.
My throat was dry when I forced my next words. “Am I still your liege?”
Everyone answered in unison. “Of course, Your Highness.”
“Is my wish your command?”
Bres kneeled. “Your Highness, our loyalty is something you should have no doubt of.”
I drew a deep breath. “Then you will do this without question.”
Sarene and Bres looked petrified when I told them my plan.
*
Faery weddings have always been extravagant. Even in lower caste, the bride’s parents would have saved their gold from the day their daughter was born, so their child could have a proper wedding. Naturally, royal weddings were bound to be beyond lavish. Valerian spared no expense on this one. I don’t know how he did it, but overnight Midnight Palace had been transformed into a wedding paradise that even the most finicky bridezilla would have nothing to bitch about. White lilies and roses graced every available surface. All the staff, including the guards, was swathed in white-cream with striped gold livery. Finest confections and delicacies were served in pristine gold-rimmed china. Rare vintage wine was abundant and dispensed liberally. The guests looked happy, chatty. The staff of Midnight Palace was quiet, sorrowful.
I stood in front of the mirror, scowling at my own reflection. I wore the same wedding dress that had been made for me when I was sixteen. Sarene had altered it to accommodate my growth over the years. I now had fuller breasts and hips, and was slightly taller.
My hair was arranged artfully on top of my head. Heavy makeup was applied on my face. I looked beautiful. Too bad I wasn’t marrying Jaime.
My mood darkened when Prince Valerian popped into my room uninvited. He took one critical look at me and pointed out the fact that I wasn’t being pleasant or joyous.
“We aren’t in public,” I argued.
“A deal is a deal. Do you not wish to honor me? Think about that filthy human lover of yours rotting in a cell.”
I drew a deep breath and forced out the most fake smile I’d managed in my life. I must have looked like a corpse grinning from its coffin. But Valerian seemed satisfied.
“Much better,” he purred.
Fuck you. “You know you’re twisted, right?”
Valerian lifted an eyebrow.
“We’re cousins. Our kids will be retarded or genetically deformed.”
He didn’t understand what I said. Human diseases didn’t apply to faerykin. And inbreeding practice was common in the faery realm, especially in royal and noble families to keep their bloodline pure. Which now, having been in the human realm and learning their customs, it kinda turned icky for me.
Valerian dismissed it with a snort. “Having thoughts about our children already? Good. I don’t need to force you.”
I folded my arms across my chest, pouting. “Since I’m going to be your queen, I want you to banish all of your consorts.”
“Oh?” Valerian looked interested. “Why is that?”
“If you are fucking me, I want you to only be fucking me. I don’t want you sharing your dick around.”
“Why?”
“It’s a human thing.”
Valerian took this seriously. He must have thought I had finally come to my senses and accepted my fate as I should. He gave a slight nod. “Very well. I shall banish them.”
I couldn’t believe he took my bait so easily.
Too easy.
“Anything else you desire?” Valerian mocked.
“I don’t give blowjobs.”
Valerian laughed. He snagged my arm and herded me to the door. “I want a perfect queen, and a perfect queen you shall be.”
*
I played a perfect bride during the ceremony and reception. I was generous with smiles, acting all doting and happy. I fooled Valerian’s guests, but not my own people. Some of them looked shocked and disgusted with my sudden change. Some flooded me with pity. They just didn’t know what I had up my sleeve yet.
When it was time to bed Valerian, strangely, I felt calm and composed. I thought I would be panicky and the bastard would see through my deception. I waited for him in my room. Sarene helped me undress and slipped me into a sheer robe. My hair was unbraided and let loose. My makeup was removed and replaced with light tint and sheer gloss on my lips. My governess and the other maids retreated in silence when Valerian came. The door was closed. Locked.
To my surprise, he wasn’t as inebriated as I thought he would be. He had kept himself sharp. Dangerous. My heart beat faster. Could I go through with this?
I could.
I must.
Valerian disrobed. With a flick of his finger, he ordered me to lose my robe.
I dutifully did what he asked. He tugged my chin up.
“You are the fairest maiden in Midnight Court, Aine.”
“Thank you.” My voice was hoarse.
Valerian sat next to me. He had a big erection, but it just churned my stomach. He touched me. Felt me. At one point, I couldn’t help shuddering from it.
Valerian fisted my hair and yanked me in his direction. “You can at least give me some excitement. Where’s the good girl you promised?”
“Well, maybe you should learn more about bed sport. Your foreplay technique sucks donkey balls.”
Valerian growled. He seized my arms and slammed me on my back. He came down on top of me and kissed me ravenously. I obliged him. I kissed him back. Tentatively at first, then I became as rough as he was. Valerian looked pleased. He devoured me until he suddenly choked. He scrambled up, trying to get his footing on the floor. His face was a mix between grim realization and rage.
“Where are you going, my lord?” I whined. “I’m just getting hot. Kiss me some more…”
“Harlot!” Valerian staggered, clutching his throat. His face turned blue. “What did…what…”
“What did I do to you?” I finished the sentence for him. “I ate Night Blooming Lotus while I waited for you.”
His eyes widened, his body convulsing.
Night Blooming Lotus was a rare flower in the faery realm, beautiful, fragrant, and also a deadly poison. Spies had used them in many heroic tales as a last measure of killing their targets and also an ultimate sacrifice. When I ate Night Blooming Lotus it rendered me a walking, breathing poison. Whoever touched me and exchanged saliva or bodily fluid with me would die in great pain instantly. But death didn’t spare me. Only slower. Don’t ask me why. It was the Night Blooming Lotus’ magic property. One flower gave me three days to live. Two flowers gave me two days. Three flowers one day. I ate about ten or fifteen. I just wanted to make sure Valerian was dead. I couldn’t take a chance.
Valerian couldn’t speak as he stumbled to the floor. He went into a violent seizure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. I laughed with delight in watching him die. Maybe I had turned looney. Whatever. This man, after all, had commissioned the death of my father.
My laugh cut short with a coughing fit. When I wiped the spit, I realized it was blood. My body was hot. My intestines felt as if they had been replaced with coals.
I slunk back in the bed. I was sure Valerian was dead by now.
It was my turn.
Bitch. It fucking hurt. Seriously.
The door burst open. Sarene and Bres came to me.
“Don’t touch me,” I warned my governess.
She broke into tears. “Your Highness…”
Bres took out his frustration by kicking Valerian’s lifeless body repeatedly.
“Bres!”
He stopped.
“Don’t forget about Jaime. You’ll release him and return him home?”
Bres hung his head. “I will, Your Highness.”
“Good.”
Everything darkened rapidly. My tongue swelled, turning rubbery. I wanted to order Bres to tell Jaime that I loved him. My voice had left me.
Eternal blackness claimed me.
*
Faerykin don’t believe i
n the afterlife. When a faery died, that was it. We don’t have gods. Or hell and heaven. No reincarnation.
So imagine my shock when I opened my eyes and found myself in a hospital bed with all kinds of medical gadgets hooked to me. IV. Heart rate monitor. I writhed. Catheter. Ewww. Gross. Gross. Gross. How could I get these things off me?
My attempts to remove the needles and other things attracted a nurse’s attention. She scurried into my room and closed the door.
“Don’t do that, Miss Walker,” she chastised.
I stopped. Miss Walker? I used Jaime’s last name when I lived with him.
“You’ve suffered a skull fracture, three broken ribs, and you’ve lost a lot of blood after the accident.”
Accident? Right. We hit the invisible barrier. Valerian and his hunters.
I still didn’t get all of this.
I died. I had poisoned Valerian. How could I still be alive?
The nurse leaned down. She was a middle-aged woman with black curly hair and a round face. The hospital scrub covered her generous boobs and hips. Her eyes glittered. Face glowed.
I tensed. Somehow she looked familiar.
“Your Highness?” she whispered. Her voice changed.
Heaven and stars, she sounded like my mother.
“Lady Brigid?”
She sighed. My mother had taken over the body of a human nurse. “Your body is weak, my dear one. Do not strain yourself. You are a mortal now.”
Mortal? “H-how?”
“I learned about your plan from Sarene, but it was too late. We cannot let you die. The elders and I made a pact with a weaver…”
“Are you nuts?” Making a deal with a weaver was the same as making a deal with the devil. Nothing good would come out of it. At least, that was what I learned from books. Or I had watched Supernatural too much.
“We had no choice. You must live. Midnight Court needs an heir.”
“But you say I’m a mortal now. I can’t rule the throne as one.”
“Your body might be a mortal, but your lineage won’t be.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your firstborn will rule the Court of Midnight.”
“What? You gonna take away my kid? Assuming I have one.”
“You will. And more. But the elders and I will take your first one back to Midnight Court. It was part of the pact we made with the weaver.”
“I don’t agree to this.”
“You do not have a choice. You were dying.”
Oh great.
My mother took my hand and squeezed it. “Forgive me. But it was for the greater good. You will be able to live with your human lover and have the life you’ve always wanted. And in exchange we take your firstborn.”
“That’s still a shitty deal.” I scowled. “What did the weaver want from you and the elders?”
My mother stiffened. “That, you do not need to know. We just want the best for you. Trust me, if there were a better way we would have taken it.”
“Is Valerian dead?”
She nodded. “The prince was buried in a pyre yesterday.”
“And his men?”
“They all returned to the Court of Light with the prince’s ashes.”
“No resistance?”
“They all grieved and were too shocked to offer a reprisal. Cut the head off the snake and they all surrender willingly.”
Good thinking. “I assume Jaime is here too? Did he get hurt?”
“Minor injuries. The weaver put you two back at the time of the crash. We’ve erased his memory about the faery realm. He won’t remember or suspect anything.” My mother touched my cheek. “Take good care of yourself, Your Highness. You might not know, but I am always thinking of you.”
Words evaporated before they reached my tongue. I had never guessed that my mother cared for me.
She nodded and left. Jaime was at the door a few minutes later.
“Aine? You awake?”
My heart melted instantly. Jaime. My Jaime. In the flesh. Alive and well.
He kissed me. I felt as if I’d been submerged into a holy spring and was born anew.
“Poor baby. Are you okay?” Jaime had a stitch on his left temple. Other than that, he looked unscratched from the accident.
Why did I have to be the banged up one? I didn’t understand the weaver’s thinking. You would think since my mother and the elders had made a pact the weaver would bring me here unscathed. “I’m okay. Where are we?”
“Omaha. But I’ve made arrangements to move you to a hospital near home tomorrow. St. Margaret Mercy.”
“We’re going home?”
“Yes, Aine.”
“What? No Vegas wedding?”
“In your condition?”
“I guess it could wait.”
“Or I can look to see if the chapel has a priest who could marry us.”
“Please. Let’s do that. I really want to be Mrs. Walker.”
“You serious?”
“Of course I am.”
Jaime straightened. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll be back.”
I grinned as I watched him disappear into the hall. He looked as excited as a three-year-old in a candy store. I thought of my mother, the pact and my firstborn.
Whatever. Still a long time. If I could get pregnant, anyway.
I had Jaime now.
That was all that mattered.
The End
About the author:
Lizzie Lynn Lee was a guitarist, receptionist, executive assistant, tarot reader, boutique owner, and graphic artist before she discovered that writing is her dream job. The advantage is that she can do it in her pajamas and socks. She’s an incurable chatterbox, heavy metal aficionado, book worm, digital enthusiast and a night owl since most of her stories were done in the wee hours of the morning because of her caffeine-induced insomnia. These days she still plays her guitar whenever she gets bored staring at her computer’s screen or plotting the most elaborate scheme of world domination. Fortunately, she has a chronically short attention span.
She loves to hear back from her readers, so drop her a line at [email protected]
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three