by Meara Platt
She tamped down the thought, concerned that he would somehow read it … or worse, that every Fae could read it. Instead, she concentrated on the seemingly endless procession of guests, and as the night progressed, she began to despair that her evening would be spent in this very spot, eternally condemned to greeting every Fae in existence. When Cadeyrn muttered something about moving things along, she smiled and nodded eagerly.
He took her hand and they were suddenly in a banquet hall filled with tables draped in delicate white lace cloths. Beside each table stood ornately pillowed benches and gaily decorated tufted chairs. Upon each table were silver platters and sparkling crystal goblets, all perfectly set.
As Melody took it all in, more of Cadeyrn’s subjects began to fill the room, appearing out of thin air and not bothering with the wide double doors that were pointlessly thrust open. It seemed the only purpose for those doors to remain open was to allow the air to circulate through the crowded room, for none of these Fae considered using them as a means of entrance.
“Where are we, Your Majesty?”
“In the dining hall of my royal court, of course.”
“I gathered as much, but where is all this located?” She waved her hands in a large circle to embrace all of their surroundings.
“In your bluebell garden.”
She shook her head and frowned. “How is it possible? We traveled a great distance.”
“Passage through these faerie portals cannot be measured by your earthly calculations.” He arched an eyebrow and smiled at her. “You’ve done well, Melody. Our subjects have accepted you.”
Our.
He’d said it again.
She turned back to the throng of elegant Fae now milling beside the rows of dining tables. Eight perfectly spaced silver candlesticks stood on each table, and each held three branches of honey-scented, burning candles. More lights blazed above them. At first, Melody thought they were crystal chandeliers, and then she realized stars blanketed this ceiling as well. She was staring at more Fae, all come to welcome her as their new queen.
“I’m Melody,” she whispered under her breath. “I’m no one special.”
As she glanced down, she realized that she was no longer clad in her plain wool gown and walking shoes, but had on a gown of forest green satin with matching satin slippers. Her transformation must have occurred some time earlier, likely before the start of the procession, but she had been too distracted to notice.
“My people expect to look upon a queen,” Cadeyrn explained when she tossed him a questioning glance. “I couldn’t present you dressed as you were, no matter how pretty you looked in that gown.”
“Looks don’t make a proper queen,” she grumbled, feeling rather dull not to have noticed sooner, but she had been so busy studying Cadeyrn’s court and his subjects that she did not think to look at herself.
“I know. In time, my people will learn to appreciate your valor and kindness as I do. It is your warmth, your inner beauty that makes you a queen.” He cast her another smile. “That you happen to be outwardly beautiful is an unexpected stroke of good fortune. We’ve had little of that for many years.”
Melody ought to have been angry with Cadeyrn, but he looked at her with such earnest admiration that any resentment she felt simply melted away. Cadeyrn didn’t love her, she reminded herself. How could he when he didn’t understand the simplest human feelings? Yet he certainly stirred dangerous feelings within her. She wouldn’t allow herself to be swept away by him or all this grandeur. She refused to care about Cadeyrn or his people.
As Melody turned away, she caught her reflection in a nearby mirror and sucked in her breath. She hardly recognized herself, for the young woman staring back at her did resemble a queen. Was she really looking at herself? Or had Cadeyrn created this illusion?
The woman in the mirror had hair like her own that fell long and loose over her bare shoulders and down her back in tumbling waves. Gemstones sparkled amid her lush strands, and though everyone knew that a fancy chignon or other fashionable upsweep was proper regal style, Melody rather liked this look.
“They’re emeralds and diamonds,” Cadeyrn said, frowning slightly. “It is the custom among the ladies of my court. Do you not like them? I’ll remove—”
“No,” she said in a rush. “I was surprised, that’s all. Is this me?”
“The mirror reflects truth. This is how your soul appears to me … how you appear to all Fae.”
“But I’m …”
“Beautiful? That is you, Melody,” he said, his voice as warm as melted chocolate. But in the next moment, his manner turned formal. He drew to attention, his shoulders back and body stiff as a small cluster of intensely bright stars descended toward them. “My council,” he said in a murmur that hinted of pride. “I’ll introduce you to them.”
A dozen men and women—black haired except for a few with gray or blond hair, blue-eyed, all clad in lustrous, black velvet robes—appeared before her.
Melody’s heart sank.
I can see you … all of you!
Cadeyrn began to introduce her to each council member, but it was hard to listen and smilingly nod while her heart was thrumming in her ears and panic had set in, for she hadn’t been able to see his council before. Had she let down her guard? Allowed them to slip into her heart despite her resistance? Cadeyrn must have known this would happen, that her heart would accept what her mind refused to consider. She sensed that no good would come of her ability to see its members now.
“Fiergrin is my chief counselor,” Cadeyrn said as he entwined his fingers in hers, which escaped no one’s notice. Fiergrin bowed before her so she curtseyed back, which must have been the proper thing to do, for Cadeyrn seemed well pleased … not that she intended to please him, though she didn’t wish to humiliate him in front of his council either.
“And this is Ygraine,” he continued as a beautiful woman, tall and slender with long white hair and gentle blue eyes, came toward her. “She’s our healer. We all have the power to heal, but ours are nothing to hers.”
Ygraine stepped close and surprised Melody by taking her right hand, for it was not Fae custom to touch. She is the healer, Melody reminded herself, and therefore different. She smiled at Ygraine and the elegant faerie smiled back. “I’m pleased to meet you, Ygraine. I hope we shall have the chance to speak at length soon.”
“We shall, if you so choose,” she replied, bowing as Cadeyrn cast her a nod to signal the end of their introduction. He nudged Melody forward to speak with others of his council.
Cadeyrn’s hand was now at her waist as he guided her from one to the other and had a brief conversation with each. Melody realized that Cadeyrn had maintained a connection between them throughout the evening, a tight hold during their travel—understandably necessary—and a lighter hold, sometimes merely a graze of their shoulders as they stood side-by-side receiving their guests. No, his guests. She was merely a visitor, not his Fae queen.
Would something dire happen if he let go of her while they stood in his court?
She chose not to worry about it. Cadeyrn knew what he was doing, and right now she felt as elegant as a damsel in a fanciful medieval tale. Wishing to savor each moment, she thought of Cadeyrn as a valiant knight and decided it would be great fun if he were to pick the finest morsels off his trencher and lovingly place them on the lips of his beloved … not that she was his beloved.
Ygraine, who had not moved far from her side, laughed. “I’m sure he would if you asked him.”
Melody’s face heated, too late realizing that his Fae council had the ability to read her expressions. Goodness! Did all Fae have that ability? “I … I wouldn’t think of asking such a thing.”
“But you just did. I saw it in your eyes.” Ygraine paused a moment, and then shook her head and sighed. “I remember the old days when we lived as you humans do. I’m eldest and the last of our kind to have memories of that ancient time. I will die soon and all that was once known to the Fae wi
ll be gone forever.”
“We must all die,” Melody said with a thoughtful nod. “The time and place will not be of our choosing. My father often said that we must accept our fates with grace and be thankful for the time we’re given. I shall be ready and accepting when my time comes.”
Ygraine’s eyes brightened. “Your Majesty, you’ve told her. I feared you would delay—
“I haven’t,” he said with a sudden urgency, shooting Ygraine a warning glance.
Melody’s heart skipped a worried beat. “What is it that you haven’t told me?”
“We’ll speak of it later,” he said, dismissing Ygraine with a scowl and drawing Melody in the opposite direction to introduce her to the final few members of his council.
Melody met Lothair, Geofrid, Beogrin, and others with names she feared she would never be able to properly pronounce, much less remember. Last to be presented was an exquisite, golden-haired faerie by the name of Edain. She appeared to be Cadeyrn’s age, possibly a little older, for Cadeyrn had earlier mentioned he was youngest among the Fae. Her eyes were not the cold, crystal blue that marked most of the Fae, but were a turbulent mix of blue and green. Whatever Edain’s age, Melody decided with some disappointment, this faerie was breathtakingly stunning.
Cadeyrn had said faeries did not have feelings, but Melody wasn’t sure about this one. Edain disliked her, Melody sensed at once. But why? Ygraine had made no secret of remembering the ancient ways, and though Edain was too young to hold such memories, Melody realized that this beautiful faerie was not all that she appeared.
Ygraine calmly came forward once again and stepped between her and Edain. Though Ygraine’s act seemed casual, Melody knew it was not, for Melody had felt an odd, sickening tug at her heart while looking upon Edain. That tug was broken by Ygraine when she stepped between them. “Your Majesty, we have little time before the demons strike,” Ygraine reminded Cadeyrn and the others of his council.
“Ah, yes. Melody, my subjects expect us to lead them in a dance before this feast ends.” Though Cadeyrn quickly guided her away from both Fae women, she caught him glancing a time or two at each. Did he know that Edain had tried to harm her? Or that Ygraine had intervened to save her?
Melody began to panic as Cadeyrn drew her into his arms. “I don’t think I can,” she said in a groaning whisper. “I don’t know how.”
“Close your eyes and let me guide you. Dancing is much simpler than traveling through space and time.” There was a note of amusement in his voice.
She glanced around. They were alone in the center of the dance floor, a thousand eyes upon them. “I shouldn’t have come. I wish you hadn’t brought me here. I’ll trip over my own feet. Or yours.”
“You won’t. Trust me, Melody.”
She wished she could, but didn’t yet.
The dance turned out to be a waltz. Melody knew none of the steps, for it wasn’t the sort of dance allowed at country assemblies, but Cadeyrn led her through the glides and turns with masterful ease. She had to admit that she rather enjoyed being held in his arms, and tingled each time his warm fingers caressed her through the silken fabric of her gown.
However, their magical dance was bittersweet, for Melody did not feel merry and sensed that despite Cadeyrn’s outward ease, his thoughts were now on tonight’s impending demon battle. These demon battles scared her. The demands Cadeyrn wished to place on her terrified her. Her human powers were nothing compared with what she’d seen tonight. Even the simplest of Fae had abilities beyond her wildest imaginings. How could she help any of them?
Yet there was an emptiness … a quiet desperation about them that made her ache inside.
She had felt it about Cadeyrn from their first meeting, the urge to run away from him and at the same time a compelling need to kiss him, to put her arms around him and assure him all would turn out well. But would it?
Would he ever escape this war between forces more powerful than any she could ever comprehend?
She was relieved when the dance ended, for no other couples had joined them on the floor. The music had played for her and Cadeyrn alone. Though all eyes remained upon them throughout the entire dance, she’d closed her own eyes and dreamt of herself with Cadeyrn, lost in an enchanted garden beneath a silvery moon, swaying gently in each other’s arms as a soft summer breeze rustled through nearby rose bushes and magnificent weeping willows.
Cadeyrn eased her out of his arms as the music ended, bringing her back from her rose-scented dream to the glare of candlelight and gleam of silver. “You did well, Melody.”
“How can you tell?” He seemed obviously pleased, but his Fae subjects stood in disconcerting silence, their faces expressionless.
“Unlike humans, we don’t need to speak to convey our thoughts,” he explained. “Can you not sense it? The room is abuzz with excitement.”
She arched an eyebrow and tossed him a wry smile. “Abuzz, you say? I suppose I’ll have to trust you on that.”
“Aye, Melody. Trust me. You must if we’re to survive the Prophecy.”
We? Survive? Did he mean he and his subjects? Or was she included in that definition? Trust him? She wasn’t ready to do it yet.
At Cadeyrn’s nod, uniformed men appeared out of nowhere, carrying large platters of food on their shoulders. Melody caught the scent of freshly roasted meat stewing in plum juices. The aroma of sweet buns also filled the air, and she grinned, knowing they were Cadeyrn’s favorite treat.
Supper was quickly served and Cadeyrn offered her a choice of meats, fish, and other manner of delicacies spread out on the long tables before them. She had no appetite, but ate lightly nonetheless as all watched.
She wasn’t used to all this attention.
Cadeyrn ate lightly as well, she noticed. However, his subjects were hearty eaters, which surprised her, for they were all tall and thin. Where did they hide their weight? She supposed it didn’t matter. Though they appeared similar to humans, they were different in many important ways … not always for the better, she decided, watching them as they reveled and now chattered gaily. Demons were about to descend on their kingdom—their aim, to kill their king. Were they heedless of the danger? Is this what lack of feeling had wrought? Fae subjects who gorged themselves on nightly feasts while their king faced daily torments?
“You’re mistaken, Melody. If we had the time, I would show you how my subjects truly spend their time, but the hour is late and demons are approaching. I must return you to the vicarage now.”
Melody nodded, eager to leave Cadeyrn’s realm and return to her familiar surroundings. She had questions to ask him about his glittering castle and the beautiful courtiers who attended him. Despite the lavishness of their surroundings, the magnificent feast, and the lilting songs, his realm and its inhabitants struck her as profoundly sad and empty.
Their laughter rang hollow.
These Fae were fading embers about to die out.
How desperate they must be to think of her as their savior.
Cadeyrn placed her hands around his neck and told her to rest her cheek against his chest, which she did as he drew her into his arms and whirled her away. She wondered whether he was disappointed with the evening. She wondered whether he was thinking of her or already preoccupied with thoughts of the battle immediately ahead.
“I must leave you now,” Cadeyrn said when they reached her bedchamber.
He released her and was about to step away, but she held him back. “Not yet. Please. I have questions.”
“They’ll have to wait.” He glanced at the sword hilt now gleaming at his side. “Demons are on the march. They’ll soon come through their portal in search of me. They mustn’t find me here.”
“Where will you go?”
He disappeared into the ebony darkness of the night.
Melody let out a small sigh of frustration. She had seen Cadeyrn’s council and his subjects. What did it mean for her? Was she their One? No! No! No! She was scared of her own shadow. She hated the dark, alw
ays had. “I won’t be there to save you, Cadeyrn … not even if you cry out for my help. Call out to Edain, for she’s obviously more suited to be your queen.”
Indeed, let him cry out for Edain, she thought unkindly. The beautiful faerie felt something for Cadeyrn. It had to be so. Why else would Edain hate her?
And why did Cadeyrn abruptly silence Ygraine? “Your Majesty, you’ve told her,” Ygraine had said earlier with marked relief. “I feared you would delay.”
But Cadeyrn hadn’t told her anything. What was he hiding?
A shiver ran through Melody, then another. She slipped out of her gown, which was once again her own plain, green wool. She no longer wore satin slippers and there were no gemstones woven into the curling strands of her loosely bound hair.
Climbing into bed, she buried herself under the covers. “I don’t want to see you again, Cadeyrn. I don’t love you. I never will. I can’t do this. Leave me alone.”
But deep in the bowels of the night, something large and dangerous stirred within her chamber. Melody knew by its hot, foul scent that this shadowy presence wasn’t Cadeyrn. She heard the click of talons upon her wood floor and the sucking slurp of oily demon feet as the presence crept closer. “How did you get in here?” she grumbled, reaching for the candlestick on her night table as she sat up. “Don’t you demons ever give up? I’m warning you, get away from me right now or I’ll light this thing and ram the flames so far up your—”
A hot wind shot past her, rattling her windows on the way out.
“And don’t come back, you sniveling coward. I didn’t invite you in and never will!” She burrowed deeper under the covers and closed her eyes. Goodness! What had just happened?
It was a dream.
It had to be.
She hadn’t invited any demons in … had she?
Ugh! What a stench!
*
Cadeyrn stared down at Melody, watching the soft flutter of her eyelashes against her pale skin as she slept. He could tell by her fitful breathing, by the uneven rise and fall of her breasts, that her sleep was troubled. This did not surprise him, for the girl had endured an eventful night. Unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet.