by Cayla Kluver
“Oh, Luka already knows about us,” I offered casually, the playful part of me wanting to throw him off his footing in the same way he’d done to me.
“Now I’m confused. How could Luka know about us when we just found out about us?”
I smiled mischievously. “That’s a story for another time.”
He shook his head, then motioned toward the steps. “Shall we?”
I made my way back down the winding stairway to the area where the birds were housed, then out into the fresh air, Tom trailing. I heard him loudly offer a greeting to the caretaker feeding the birds, but I didn’t slow or look around, slightly embarrassed at the thought of what the man might have overheard, never mind how deaf Tom said he was.
“Anya,” Tom called, coming to fall in step with me. “Meet me at the aviary after dark. Let me show you the stars and the lights of the city.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “I’m still betrothed, remember?”
“You should remedy that before tonight.”
He was grinning, gray eyes shining, brown hair ruffling in the light breeze—just looking at him made me giddy.
“Talking to Davic isn’t going to be as easy as you make it sound, Tom. But even if I do discuss things with him, I’m still not sure meeting you out here is a good idea.”
“No harm can come from it—we won’t be leaving the grounds of the estate. Meet me right after the servants have been dismissed for the day.”
“I’m not promising anything, Officer Matlock.”
“I know. But I’ll wait for you tonight, and tomorrow night, and every night until you come.”
I rolled my eyes at his persistence, all the while feeling my heart flutter like a snowbird about to take flight.
Without further conversation, we continued along the path that led through the gardens. I reentered the mansion, Tom a step or two behind me, and came face-to-face with Davic.
“I was just looking for you,” he said; then his gaze went to Tom and his expression soured.
“I was sending a note by snowbird,” I quickly supplied, knowing from the heat pulsating in my cheeks that my skin was changing colors. “Luka sent Officer Matlock to assist me.”
“As nice as it would be to chat,” Tom interjected, moving past us, “I must get back to work. Good day, Anya, Davic.”
“You said you were looking for me?” I prompted in the aftermath of Tom’s departure. I laid my fingers upon my mouth, afraid my promised might otherwise see the impression Tom’s lips had made upon mine.
“Yes. I thought perhaps we could take a walk on the grounds together. There are a few things we should discuss.”
His eyes, so trusting, so innocent, captured mine, and my chest tightened. Though this was exactly the moment I needed, I couldn’t bring myself to talk with him yet. I hadn’t had a chance to think through what I would say to him, how I would go about breaking his heart. I had loved him once, and I wanted to spare him as much pain as I could. He deserved that much consideration, if not more.
“Can it wait until after dinner?” I finally replied. “I’m rather tired—not the best night’s sleep, I’m afraid. I’d like to return to my chambers to lie down for a bit.”
“I suppose, but, Anya, it’s important we talk about our future.”
I knew with a sickening lurch of my stomach that he was thinking about my wings—and how I could never return to Chrior to live in the Faerie Realm. Yes, Davic and I needed to talk, although I doubted he realized the future he wanted to talk about was no longer “ours.”
* * *
I was spared from a conversation with Davic that night by my father’s declaration that the Queen and Governor Ivanova had called a meeting for the following afternoon. Since he had waited to so inform us until after Zabriel had departed the dining room, I suspected my cousin had something to do with its purpose.
“Zabriel wishes to make an announcement,” my father continued, making that clear.
“What sort of announcement?” I blurted, my brow furrowed. Had he made a decision about returning to Chrior?
Davic chuckled. “I don’t imagine your father knows since Zabriel hasn’t made it yet.”
I rolled my eyes, though the lift to my father’s brows suggested Davic’s conclusion was warranted. Then he and the Queen departed, leaving my friends and me to speculate about what Zabriel would say.
“He’ll return,” Ione confidently put forth. “He may be angry with his mother, but he’s still Fae. He’s enjoying his time with us, and he clearly enjoys flying. He doesn’t really want to be human.”
“I’m not so sure,” Davic countered. “He’s had two years in the Territory and never tried to return or contact anyone in the Realm—not once. How much can you miss your homeland if you never give it a thought?”
I sighed, then tried to explain what I understood about Zabriel and his motivations.
“He never contacted anyone in the Realm because he wouldn’t have been able to do so without word reaching his mother. And if she knew where he was, she would have sent someone after him. Or at least, that’s what he believed. But he never truly lost contact with us—he’s been looking out for Fae in the Territory in his own way.”
Davic scoffed. “While he’s been committing all manner of crimes? He didn’t get sentenced to execution for drinking and bedding women. Theft, plundering of ships, murder—aren’t those the usual pirate fare? Doesn’t seem like the best training for the future King of the Fae.” Ione’s eyes flicked between the two of us, her pallid face revealing that she felt a storm was brewing. Not wanting to engage in a fight in front of her, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. I didn’t have to challenge Davic now.
“I guess we’ll find out what this is about tomorrow.” Turning to Ione, I invited, “Would you like to walk me to my room? We’ve had little time together since your arrival.”
“Yes, I’d love to go with you.” She glanced pointedly at Davic, then added, “We can talk about the boys in our lives.”
He frowned but nonetheless acknowledged defeat. He wasn’t going to be able to talk privately with me tonight. Though he was annoyed by the situation, all I felt was relief.
Chapter Twenty
THE ZABRIEL SHOW
Everyone gathered the next afternoon in the Reception Hall where we had first met on the evening of Queen Ubiqua’s arrival. We were all seated in essentially the same positions we had occupied before, although the Queen and my father had been given chairs at the front of the room along with those provided for the Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Zabriel, and me. Konstantin, of course, was perched once more on his pedestal. The atmosphere in the room was tense, though there was an underlying current of anticipation. This moment was of great import to the Fae because it was believed that the decision every member of the Queen’s delegation had come to hear was about to be revealed. It was important to the officials of Governor Ivanova’s government because they believed they had won.
Though the meeting had been called at Zabriel’s behest, it was Queen Ubiqua who rose to set the stage.
“Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Council members, my Lord of the Law, and distinguished government officials, it is my understanding that my son, Zabriel, the Prince of the Fae, has come to some decisions regarding his future. The purpose of this meeting is for him to convey those decisions.” She paused and looked toward Zabriel. “Is that correct?”
“That’s correct, Mother.”
“Then I yield the floor so that you may speak to this assembly.”
Zabriel, dressed once more in human attire, though this time his shimmering black wings rimmed with turquoise were on full display, rose from his chair. He positioned himself to one side, his body angled so both those seated at the front and those seated in the rows of chairs could hear. The sight of him gave me chil
ls, for his confidence and poise captivated everyone in the room. It was so quiet, I could hear Konstantin’s light snoring where he slept on his cushioned pedestal. After scanning the entire room and making each person feel he was about to address him or her directly, the Prince began to speak.
“You all know that I spent fifteen years in the Realm of the Fae. While my childhood was not without its tribulations, many of them unique given my parentage, it was, in general, a happy one. I would, therefore, like to express my appreciation to every Faerie who supported the union between my mother and father, and who acknowledged me as the rightful heir to the throne. I will always value my Fae heritage, embrace Fae culture, and support the Faerie people.”
Murmurs of approval rippled through the members of the Fae delegation, along with a smattering of applause. I glanced at my father, who also looked pleased, and at Queen Ubiqua, who looked worried. Since she presumably knew Zabriel better than anyone, I took my cue from her, uneasily fidgeting with the folds of my gown.
“After leaving Chrior, I spent two years on my own in the Warckum Territory, living independently, though not always wisely, among the humans. During that time, I gained a wealth of experience, a number of good friends, and a solid understanding of human lifestyles. What I lacked, however, was a connection to my father’s family. That is something I have only recently gained. It is also something I do not intend to relinquish.”
This time, the government officials representing the Warckum Territory reacted, applause and a few cheers filling the air. Those in attendance appeared to be engaged in a competition—one that was not likely to have either a graceful winner or a good loser. My cousin stepped to the side and accepted a glass of water from a servant, taking several swallows before resuming his speech.
“After thorough discussions with the Queen and Governor Ivanova, as well as other members of my Fae and human families, and based on much personal thought, I’ve made the decision that has been thrust upon me. It has been put to me that I must choose between a life in the Faerie Realm and a life in the Warckum Territory. Today I make that choice.”
He paused, and I glanced around, certain everyone in the room was holding their breath. I silently congratulated him on his theatricality—at least no one would be disappointed in the show.
“Since I gave my mother fifteen years of my life, it is my intention to likewise give my father’s family fifteen years. In this way, I will have equal and adequate time to learn about my human heritage, to embrace human culture, and to understand human nature. Then, and only then, will I be in a position to bridge the gap between our races. While I do not at this time renounce my claim to the throne of the Fae, neither do I embrace it. I don’t feel I can make a wise decision in that regard until my self-appointed time in the Warckum Territory has come to an end.”
The room erupted with a mixture of cheers, shouts, cries of outrage, and applause; and numerous people leaped to their feet. Both the Queen and the Governor stood, hands in the air to try to settle everyone down, for it did not appear Zabriel was through speaking. But it wasn’t until the Queen’s Blades and the red-uniformed Constabularies stepped forward that people retook their seats. Zabriel had not moved, watching the chaos he had wrought with a mixture of surprise and despair on his face, for it appeared he had thought he could make a truly diplomatic decision. But that was not the type of decision this assembly wanted.
When at last order had been restored, Zabriel crossed to Queen Ubiqua and removed the chain from around his neck. Upon it hung his royal ring, and my pulse pounded in my temples—was he going to return it to her? Doing so would be akin to renouncing his royal status, despite his earlier words.
“I offer my royal ring to you for safekeeping until the passage of the fifteen years I have hereby established,” he said, extending it to her. “If you would prefer I keep it, I will wear it with pride.”
Looking peeved enough to slap him, the Queen rose to her feet. Removing the white gold band with a ruby center from the chain, she placed it on her son’s right middle finger—she wasn’t about to give up any claim over Zabriel that he was willing to allow. It was the first time since my arrival in the Territory that I’d seen the ring on his hand. To his credit, he then acknowledged the gift by kissing her once on each cheek, drawing cheers from the Fae delegation.
Next Zabriel moved to the Governor. Standing before his grandfather, he deferentially shrouded his wings.
“I offer myself in service to you, Governor Ivanova, for the good of humankind, and pledge to remain in my shrouded form for the duration of the time I’ve established here today.”
“While I gladly accept your service, Zabriel, I embrace you as a grandson of both races. I would never ask you to be less than you are, so give you leave to shroud or display your wings according to your personal desires. The only request I make is that you wear the Ivanova family ring in addition to the royal ring of Chrior.”
To the surprise of the Fae in the room, Wolfram removed a ring from one of his own fingers and offered it to my cousin. Zabriel slipped it onto his left hand; then he and the Governor clasped arms. This time, everyone clapped, for this gesture was pleasing to all.
Having made his decision known, Zabriel strode down the carmine carpet between the rows of filled chairs and out of the room, never once looking back despite the argumentative voices that rose in his wake. The Queen, my father, and I left by means of the side door leading into the formal banquet hall, surrounded by members of the Queen’s Blades, for it looked as though blows might be struck in the reception room. Both sides were now claiming victory, neither was willing to admit defeat on any grounds, and each insisted the other was in the wrong. In some sense, Zabriel had perhaps accomplished his purpose of finding a middle ground, for no one was clear exactly what his decision meant for the long-term.
The Queen did not stay in the banquet room, probably because the Governor and his son would likely be following behind. Instead, she marched into the hallway and on to a small sitting room, my father on her heels with me in tow. I knew she was angry and wanted to talk to her Lord of the Law. Why my attendance was needed wasn’t clear, but I wasn’t about to raise the question.
The Queen’s first act upon entering the parlor was to direct one of her Blades to summon Davic and Ione, and my confusion grew. What purpose any of us could serve was a mystery to me. She did not wait for them to arrive, however, to launch into a discussion with my father.
“You must exert your influence over him, Cyandro,” she instructed, stiffly sitting down in an armchair, her jaw and lips tight.
“I doubt I have any more ability to influence him than you do,” my father replied, taking me by surprise. I had expected him to assert that he would do everything in his power.
Ubiqua nodded, then turned to me. “Anya, you know better than perhaps anyone the consequences to our Realm if Zabriel does not recant this decision. I placed my faith in you to rule should he continue to forsake our people, but that is now beyond your means. That puts Illumina in line for the throne.”
Though that outcome made my skin itch, a desire to defend Zabriel rose up in me.
“But, Aunt, he didn’t renounce his claim to the throne. He just—”
“You do not need to explain his decision to me, Anya! But the throne in Chrior will be vacant long before fifteen years has passed. Who do you believe will fill that vacuum of power?”
Knowing she was referencing the Great Redwood’s prediction, I raised the question that had no doubt also sprung to my father’s mind, my voice trembling.
“Are you unwell?”
“Well or unwell does not matter. I feel in my heart that my days are numbered. Zabriel must be made to understand that. If he desires to remain in the Territory until the time of my death, I will not argue. But he must not set an expectation of fifteen years. The Realm of the Fae will decay and die along with my body
if he does not rethink his position.”
I paled and stumbled to a chair, my father coming to my side in alarm.
“Would you like some water, Anya?” he asked, motioning for one of the Blades to approach.
“I’m feeling a little faint from the warmth of the day, but it will pass. I just need to sit down.”
While it was true I felt faint, it was not from the thought of the Queen’s death but from the thought of Illumina ascending the throne. The drawing in her diary had resurfaced in my mind, along with all the doubts I had tried to quell about her participation in the hunt that had cost me my wings. Queen Ubiqua was right—I did know better than anyone the consequences to the Faerie Realm should Illumina rule. But I also had the evidence to potentially convince Zabriel of that fact, and the idea of facing him with it had me quaking.
Still concerned about me, my father instructed the Blade at his side to send for some liquid refreshment. As she was leaving, Davic and Ione entered, looking confused and frightened.
Ubiqua smiled at them in greeting, though the expression did not reach her blue eyes, and I knew her anger had not calmed.
“Good. Davic, Ione, and Anya, you must listen carefully to me. I need each of you to put pressure to bear on Zabriel to change the decision he has just made. It is imperative that he return to Chrior, if not with me when I depart after the Governor’s Ball, then immediately upon my death. And he must return with the intention of ruling. In the meantime, his claim is intact and indisputable, and is evidenced by his royal ring.”
“Yes, of course we will,” Ione and Davic murmured in stunned agreement, the prospect of convincing Zabriel of anything no doubt a bit daunting. I could not find my voice, so merely nodded my head, feeling like my insides were being peeled apart in layers.
Displaying granite conviction, Ubiqua then motioned her Blades to come forward to receive her next command. She lowered her voice, and my back muscles tensed, for I knew what was coming before the words left her mouth.