Diadem

by Kate Kelley

  “What’s your name?” she yelled over the rapture as he twirled her in a circle.

  “Finn,” he replied before hopping into the line of Fae, pulling her along. “Hop, lass.”

  She held up her skirt and did as she was told.

  “Skip, side, hop,” he continued demonstrating, “Good, lass! Twirl!”

  Lyra stumbled and ran into a woman, her arm squishing into a large breast. She giggled even as she blushed deeply and covered her face. They returned to their beginning position and started the steps again. A few more tries and it was muscle memory. Hop, side, hop, skip, twirl, clap, stomp, hop...Someone passed her a canteen and she drank as she danced, a sheen of sweat veiling her skin and dampening her hairline and nape. She tasted the unmistakable taste of fairy rum and shook her head, shoving the canteen at Finn.

  “I won’t drink that again,” she said breathlessly.

  Finn scowled, incredulous as he spun her. “You don’t like it? Are you daft?”

  “Oh, I like it very much! But last time I drank it,” she clapped, then stomped, “I fought naked with the King.”

  Finn’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Well, shite, lass, drink up then!” He passed the canteen back to her and she laughed, a deep, belly tugging joy and she passed it to the Fae woman she had tripped into earlier. Frey appeared next to the woman, hand outstretched. The woman placed a coin in Frey’s palm, then took a swig of the drink.

  Suddenly Finn was whisked away by a topless Fae with curly dark hair and a nubile body and a different partner was thrust into her hand. He was much bigger and darker than Finn, and she’d recognize that chest anywhere.

  “You learned the dance?” she asked Terrin as he clasped her hands, then twirled her and fell into the jig beside her. His eyes appeared obsidian in the firelight and his hair was tied back with a leather strap at the nape of his neck, revealing his sweat sheened hairline.

  He winked at her. “Am I man of pleasure now? Do you approve?” he asked her, his voice blending in with the rumblings of the drums.

  Lyra’s stomach flipped. The canteen was pushed her way again, but she passed it to Terrin instead of drinking from it.

  He didn’t miss a step, drinking deeply and twirling her at the same time. He came in close, tossing the canteen in the air behind him. Someone caught it and cheers erupted.

  She spotted Frey, topless, swaying her hips in circles with a gathering of Fae around her. Several tossed her coins as they took sips from the canteen.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” Lyra shouted at him.

  He clamped onto her waist, holding her against his body.

  A trill went up her spine.

  “Faun? Oh, she’s over there.” He jerked his head back and Lyra spotted her, kneeling in the grass, slamming a deck of cards down while a gathering of Fae around her pounded the ground, laughing boisterously. Suddenly Faun disappeared. Wait, no. A tiny blue light replaced her, zipping back and forth.

  Is that…

  Terrin turned to look and then turned back. “I was wondering if they could change size like the legends say. Seems it’s true.”

  Lyra stopped dancing, jogging away from the fire until the blessed cool air whisked the sweat from her forehead. She plopped down on the plush grass, cooling her hands on the soft blades. Terrin looked down at her as she watched Finn dancing. He was winding around Frey now, his movements slow and sensual. His hands came up to Frey’s waist, smoothing up her ribcage just under her breasts. She raised her arms and snaked along his front. Lyra blushed and looked away.

  “Is that your new endeavor?” Terrin asked, not bothering to turn to look at Finn.

  Lyra scowled when Terrin sat next to her. His musky, clean scent incensed her.

  She eyed his profile. His beard had begun to grow again. Her hands itched to pet it. “Finn? No, I have no desire to be in a relationship with a Fae man.”

  “Hmm. Why not? Magical folk will return to earth now. It will become likely for cross breeding to occur.”

  “Cross breeding? Is that what I am, a cross breed?”

  Terrin shrugged. “Yes. What else would you call it?”

  “The Fae don’t wholly accept me as their own, and the humans don’t fully accept me as human. It’s probably better for people to stick to their own ilk.”

  Terrin stared ahead. “Like royals should stick to other royals?”

  Her head snapped to face him. The music had died to a slower tune, the beats of the drums vanishing in replace of more romantic plucks and tones of stringed instruments. She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t think of anything to say. The royal rule was his own, not hers, so why did he seem angry at her?

  Terrin chuckled darkly. “Navi won’t be happy with me once she learns what we are about to do.”

  “She won’t find out,” Lyra said unconvincingly. She didn’t even believe herself.

  “I’ll take her out if she turns on us,” Lyra added, playing with a blade of grass.

  Terrin snorted. “No you won’t.”

  “You don’t think I’m capable of it or you won’t let me kill your evil little wife? I’ve wanted to off that woman ever since I found Poppi in that tower.” Lyra pulled a chunk of grass up from the earth, her fists curling tightly around it. Nevermind that Poppi hated her now. She would still defend her, friend or not.

  “You mean ever since you found out the two of us were engaged,” Terrin murmured, his eyes hooded.

  Lyra rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the blush from creeping into her cheeks. “You think too highly of yourself.” She sprinkled the grass in the rush of wind at their backs.

  Terrin leaned into her, his arm brushing hers. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about our kisses, Lyra," he purred, his lips brushing her ear.

  Lyra fought a shiver. She swallowed thickly. “I haven’t,” she lied.

  Terrin’s mouth hovered lower, just below her jaw, and he inhaled her scent. “You can’t tell me Oriel was any better than me.”

  Lyra pushed his face away even as her breathing picked up. “Stop.” She took a deep breath. “You flatter yourself.”

  Terrin stilled before pulling back fully. She noticed his pupils were dilated, the gray almost eaten up by the black of his pupil. “Who will I marry now that Navi is all but off the table?...Poppi is half royal, and a mage now. She’s not hideous,” he surmised, stroking his short beard and looking into the stars.

  “You’re drunk,” Lyra pointed out.

  He shrugged. “It’s a good night then.”

  “Maybe Vale is looking for a husband. It would be good to align yourself with them. She’s almost certainly a better person than Navi. And you can show the Kingdom that we can trust the Fae.” The words felt like ash in her mouth.

  Terrin gave her a sidelong glance. “It isn’t a bad idea. But I thought you just said we should marry of our own ilk.”

  “Royals are an exception.”

  “Indeed.” He hesitated for a moment, then peered at her through thick ashes, “Had you not abdicated the Ursa throne, maybe it could have been you I call wife.” His voice was soft but might as well have been a roar.

  The remark reeled her, and she sucked in a ragged breath as her stomach twisted into knots. She’d thought of that already. To be Terrin’s wife, his alone and he hers. Why did she want it so bad? She hated the man. Didn’t she?

  “You said it yourself, we aren’t compatible.” Her voice was calm even as she fought off the stab of despair that punctured her heart.

  She jumped to her feet in an instant, leaving him behind in the grass.

  She walked blindly into the fray, her heart beating out of her chest, her hands trembling.

  I fucking hate him. Hate him.

  She spotted Finn standing and laughing with another Fae man. She made a beeline trail for him, spun him around, and kissed him on the mouth. Hard.

  His hands floated in the air near her head for a moment of surprise before he clamped her waist and picked her up as if she
weighed nothing, kissing her back hungrily. She circled her legs around his waist and he broke the kiss. The Fae around them whistled and cheered. Lyra laughed and drank from the fairy rum someone passed her, bending her head back for a long swallow, her golden tresses flowing freely in the warm breeze. She looked at the clear, dark night, the brilliant stars that told her the world kept turning and no matter what world it was, it always ended the same.

  Finn tilted her head back to his and his golden eyes searched hers. He smiled wickedly before kissing her again. His kiss was strong and sensual, his tongue freely exploring her mouth as if he was the most experienced kisser in the world. She met his tongue with abandon, forcing herself to forget about Terrin.

  “Hmm, I think I’m starting to grow fond of human women,” Finn murmured against her lips. He slowly slid her to the ground, careful to make sure her body touched every part of his.

  As soon as her feet touched the grass, Finn was on the ground, Terrin standing over him. Finn was up an instant later, slamming his fist into Terrin’s jaw. Although lean, Finn’s strength seemed to rival the bigger Prince’s. Terrin countered with another swing, the movement precise even though Lyra was sure he was drunk. Finn ducked and swept his leg with his own and Terrin jumped over it, spinning to land a kick to Finn’s jaw, snapping his head back. Finn flipped backwards and landed surely on his feet, a blade in his hand and a gleam in his eye.

  “STOP!” Lyra screamed then. She ran up to Terrin and shielded him with her body as Finn stepped closer.

  “Is this yer man?” Finn asked her, narrowing his eyes on Terrin.

  “No, but he’s my friend. I won’t take kindly to you carving him up.”

  “He attacked me, Lyra. I don’t want to fight, but he’s testing my fecking control.” Finn’s eyes had gone a dark gold, almost sunset orange. Terrin growled behind her.

  She spun around to face him. “You’re an ass!” she screamed.

  The dancing and music had died down and a crowd had formed around them, waiting for the rest of the scuffle.

  “Kick him in the balls!” someone cried from the mob.

  Terrin smiled, his calm belying the intensity of his gaze. “What are you doing, Lyra? You want this man to take advantage of you?”

  “I kissed him, Terrin. Once again, I don’t need your permission to be with someone,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Aye! Let the lass make her own choice,” Finn said behind her. He laid a hand on her waist. Terrin eyed Finn’s hand as though he wanted nothing more than to cut it off.

  “Get your hand off of her,” Terrin said clearly, in that same calm manner.

  Finn smirked and held on tighter. Lyra leaned back against him, lifting her chin defiantly at Terrin. “I don’t belong to you,” she spit at him.

  A flash of wrath jolted in Terrin’s eyes at the same time his aura flashed with pain. He spun on his heel and stormed off.

  “Right gobshite, that one,” Finn growled, his eyes trailing Terrin’s retreat. She turned and watched him wipe a trickle of blood off the corner of his lip.

  “I’m tired,” Lyra sighed, “Do you know where I can stay?”

  “You’re staying with me, lass,” he said softly, cupping her cheek with one hand and pointing up with the other. Lyra looked up, admiring the Faerie homes nestled among the branches. She could imagine how comfortable and lovely it would be to sleep up there. How safe she would feel despite her fear of heights.

  Lyra smiled wanly, taking in his heated eyes. “No. I’d better not.”

  Freydis pulled on her arm behind her, her eyes round with concern. “You really have to tell me your secret. How do you get so many men?” she asked. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”

  Finn called as she walked away, “You sure ye don’t belong to him?” His question froze her insides but she refused to stop walking.

  She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure at all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The smell of maple syrup permeated Lyra’s dreams and she sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her stomach flipped for a moment as she got that strange feeling of being out of place and not quite knowing where she was. She looked around the room. It was small and circular, the walls like the bumpy underside of tree bark. She sat in a small cottage-sized bed. To her right was a wooden night table with a plate of piled cakes. The cakes she’d made. She bit into one, relishing the sweet taste from the maple syrup and dense, buttery texture. The door opened, and in walked Terrin. He wore his rumpled clothes from the day before, his slightly dirty hair tied back again.

  “Good morning. Are you ready to head back?” he asked. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Lyra tugged her blanket up on her chest.

  “Do you know how to knock or did you never learn that particular manner in royalty school?” she asked him, head quirked to the side.

  Terrin grunted. “I don’t have time to knock. Besides, I’ve seen all there is to see. Don’t pretend as if you’re shy now.” He gestured to her form with a sweep of his hand.

  She glared at him and took another bite of cake. Terrin walked over and plucked one from the plate, promptly biting into it. He gave a hum of pleasure as he chewed and put the entire thing in his mouth on the next bite. Lyra watched him.

  “For all the trouble they are, the Fae do know how to bake,” Terrin said through the mouthful of food.

  Lyra smiled. “I made those.”

  Terrin swallowed and reached for another. “So there is something you’re good at,” he said, surprise in his voice.

  “I suppose you forgot about the time I opened a portal to an otherworldly realm to rescue your sister and the world?”

  Terrin shoved another cake into his mouth. He swallowed before speaking again. “We need to find Frey so she can show us where Vale and Zuri reside. We need to discuss details for the plan of attack.”

  Lyra shoved her covers aside and stood. She found her tunic on the floor and tugged it over her head and scanned the floor for her skirt. Terrin swiped it up from under the bed and held it behind his back. Lyra huffed, reaching for it. “I don’t think we should take all the Fae in just yet. Half will do for now until we figure out the rest,” she said as she reached for her skirt again.

  Terrin held it out of her reach. “No, we need to take them all in now and they need to attack right away. We can’t know when Edwin will attack next and we need the Fae to fight with us. We need to transport into Ursa immediately, let them overthrow Ursa as soon as possible so they can join our army against your ex fiance. ”

  Terrin threw the dirty skirt to the side and grabbed a parcel from a table behind him. He pushed it toward her. Lyra hesitated, peering up at him with a question in her eyes. “What’s this?”

  Terrin shrugged. “Just open it.”

  Lyra pulled on the strings, and the paper fell away to reveal a beautifully intricate skirt, jewel tones of all colors melting into one another to paint the soft, layered fabric. It was the same kind of skirt she’d seen on most of the Fae women the night before.

  “Gods, Terrin, what’s this for?” she breathed, holding it up.

  She opened the ties of the waist and put a leg in, hopping on one foot when she lost her balance. Terrin steadied her with a quick hand around her upper arm.

  “I can’t have my ambassador looking like a bedraggled pixie.”

  She tightened the laces of the skirt and marveled at how it swished around her ankles like a breeze. “What are you going on about? Ambassador?”

  “I’m head of militia and battle strategy. You’re Gem’s ambassador. It looks unprofessional of me to drag in a weakling nobody to do business with me. Just go along with it,” he said with the wave of a hand.

  Lyra bristled as she found her vest and pulled it on, feeling for Edwin’s ring as usual. It was there. She still didn’t know what to do with the enchanted thing. She knew it was a tracking device but it didn’t feel right leaving it just anywhere. If she left it here, Edwin could come here a
nd wreak havoc among the Fae. She couldn’t allow that.

  “I don’t knows that I can transport two thousand Fae at once.”

  “She’s humble now, huh?” Terrin walked closer and Lyra’s heart skipped when his callused thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, sweeping a crumb off her lip. “You eat like a wild animal.” His eyes ran lower at the stays on her vest Lyra was attempting to straighten. He knocked her hand away and grabbed the stays, tightening each tier of laces. Lyra hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he stepped away. Their gazes met.

  Frey knocked on the door but didn’t bother waiting for an invitation before she barged in.

  “Zuri and Vale are waiting in the throne room for you two,” she said before turning out of the door again. Lyra and Terrin caught up with her. She combed her hair with her fingers as they wound through the curved passages, passing servants involved in various tasks. Finally they came to a door with wood so old it looked like it should have been rotting. It shimmered with a silver light at the slight turn of the head. Frey knocked and stood back, her hands clasped behind her back. A large Fae man clad in leather armor opened the door, his eyes flitting over each of them.

  “Enter.” Zuri’s cool voice greeted them.

  The throne room was much bigger than Gem’s. Round, like the rest of the rooms, a circular, textured rug taking most of the floor space and embroidered with an old style of art that depicted vague impressions of Fae royalty. Zuri was sitting on the tall, silver throne in the center that was covered in intricate carvings. Oblong tables decorated the perimeter overspilling with various florals and foliage. Narrow, diamond-shaped skylights pushed sunshine into the room, the gauzy white rays shining down on them like a divine grace. If Lyra tilted her head at the right angle, she could see the twisting branches of the tree through the windows which were carved out between them.

  “When do we leave?” Terrin asked her as he approached. He wasn’t one for small talk.

  Zuri leaned back and eyed him, her expression bored. “You humans are a dull bunch.”

  Terrin shifted, unsure how to answer. Lyra noticed the glint spark in his eye and wondered if she were the only one who could tell he was irritated.