Midnight's Knight: A Fae War Chronicles Novel (The Fae War Chronicles Book 0)

by Jocelyn Fox

  “Well, perhaps there is something that would come in a close second,” said Finnead. He brushed at his hair again. “The Queen has granted the Princess permission to travel to the White City. She has wished for many years to gaze upon the wonders of the City and the Great Gate.”

  “It sounds wondrous, sir,” Ramel said cautiously, not understanding what the Princess’s journey to the White City had to do with him.

  “Well, I hope you are all right with taking your studies on the road for a few months,” said Finnead. “The Queen has tasked me with guarding the Princess on her journey. It will be a small party, with a few of her ladies and perhaps a pair of Guards as well. The road is not traveled often, but it is well marked and there should be little danger so deep in our lands.”

  “Sir…I’m to go along?” Ramel felt his eyes widening. The earlier shock of being told he would be participating in the gauntlet had weakened his ability to control his expressions.

  “Well, you are my squire,” said Knight Finnead. “And we should be back at least a month before the gauntlet. But I think it would be a truly great opportunity to focus on your studies in a different way. Obviously I’ll be there to spar as much as you’d like, and I believe Lady Rye will be on the journey as well.”

  Ramel didn’t know if the strange squeeze in his chest was from the mention of Rye’s name or the compounded shock of a journey to the White City, one of the wonders of the world, and having his name put forward for the gauntlet. He finally regained his breath enough to speak. “Sir, I count myself the luckiest of squires to go on this journey with you.”

  Knight Finnead chuckled. “It is a unique opportunity, but you might come to regret calling yourself lucky. Just because we are journeying does not mean I will lower my standards.”

  “I would not expect it,” said Ramel. He smiled. “And sir, I will always count myself lucky to be your squire.”

  The Knight shook his head slightly, a smile of brotherly fondness lingering on his lips. “Now you may go back to whatever Queensday activities I interrupted.”

  “Sir?” Ramel blinked. “You don’t have any armor or…tasks…for me?”

  “Time enough to start preparations tomorrow,” the Knight said. “We leave in a fortnight.”

  “Aye, sir,” said Ramel, grinning again like a fool as he bowed and turned toward the door. When he was finally alone in the passageway, he paused and let the euphoria wash over him for a long moment, drinking in the feeling of excitement and envisioning how he would tell Murtagh and Rye. Then he took a deep breath, carefully ushered his jubilation into a corner of his chest and separated it from the rest of his emotions, to be taken out and savored only in quiet moments alone. There was still much to do, preparations to be made for the journey and final studying before the gauntlet…but he would see the White City and the Great Gate, and then at the Solstice he would earn his Knight’s sword. His grin lingered on his lips as he made his way back to the squire’s barracks, barely able to believe his good fortune.

  Chapter 26

  “Only five more days and then we depart,” said Andraste. “I don’t know how you show no excitement at all.”

  Finnead glanced at the Princess, letting his gaze linger on her unbound hair and the curve of her neck. They walked slowly in the grass along the riverbank, the afternoon sun warm on their backs. While the Unseelie Court did not mark the Summer Solstice with a festival like the Winter Solstice, they did celebrate the tipping of the scales toward the cool winter. Queen Mab sent a delegation each year to the Seelie’s Summer Solstice celebration, bearing a token gift for Queen Titania.

  “I focus on the preparations, not on excitement,” he said finally. “When all is prepared and we are setting out, then I will let myself feel excitement. Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps,” repeated Andraste teasingly, leaning close and linking her arm through his as they walked. “You are entirely too stoic and serious, Knight Finnead.”

  “Would you bid me not to take my duties seriously, Princess?” he asked even as he thrilled at the closeness of her and the brush of her arm against his side.

  “If you are going to take your duties so seriously, perhaps I shall just add to the list,” she replied with a little smile.

  “Oh?” He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “You know I am yours to command, my lady.”

  She pulled him gently to a stop and looked up at him with a puckish glint in her eyes. “Then I command you to kiss me.”

  He let himself smile – that was a command that he was all too eager to fulfill. Her cool lips ignited a roaring heat within him, counterpoint to his carefully contained emotions. She slid her arms around him and sighed softly into his mouth. Her sound of satisfaction only heightened his arousal, but even within the whirlwind of want, he was painfully aware of the line that they could not cross. After a few passionate moments, he drew back gently. Andraste made a sound of disappointment.

  “You know that we could slip away,” she whispered, her eyes dark with desire. She traced a line of kisses along his jaw, leaving him struggling for breath. “Rye and Ramel won’t tell a soul.”

  “Andraste,” he said, her name half a groan, “please don’t tempt me.”

  “Are you afraid that your noble restraint will crack?” she replied with a catlike smile.

  “I know that it will eventually, and we both know that it is no small matter,” Finn said, drawing back a step as gently as he could.

  Andraste pressed her mouth together in frustration. “I could talk to a healer, and have them brew me a tea.”

  “And what if the Queen heard of it?”

  “Why should she dictate every aspect of my life?” She tossed her head and her eyes flashed angrily.

  “In this, I agree with her,” Finn said calmly. “What if you were to conceive a child?”

  Andraste crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Well, then my sister’s worries about the line of succession would be solved, wouldn’t they?”

  “Andraste,” said Finn with a sigh.

  After a long moment, the Princess sighed too, her face softening. “I’m sorry, Finn.” She gazed out across the river. “I feel like I’m in a cage sometimes.”

  “I wish I knew what to say to convince you otherwise,” said Finn truthfully. He ached to brush away the crease between her brows with his thumb.

  She smiled slightly. “This is when I’m supposed to say that your love is the key to my cage, and together we can be free. But we’ll never be free.”

  Finn frowned. Her words quickly dampened any lingering ardor, and a chill raced down his spine. “Are you all right, Andraste?”

  The Princess heaved a great sigh. “I suppose I shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about what I cannot change.” She glanced at him. “Would you think I’ve lost my mind if I told you that I didn’t want to be Queen?”

  “No,” replied Finn. “I can understand it. If you were Queen, it would mean something happened to your sister, and you would never wish that.”

  “Oh, that’s not it at all,” she replied with a humorless chuckle. “I mean that even if Mab wasn’t Queen anymore…I don’t want to be Queen. I think it’s absolutely ridiculous, saying that we’ve been chosen by the powers to dictate right and wrong for everyone.”

  “There is certain power invested in the Queen,” said Finn carefully.

  “I suppose I could still hold that power. And I suppose that if everyone wanted to, I’d let them call me Queen.” Her eyes caught the light and glowed with luminous fervor. “But what I’m saying is that I would let everyone choose, Finn.”

  “Choose…?” It wasn’t often that he felt left behind by a conversation, but he simply didn’t want to pursue the line of thought that made Andraste’s eyes shine with such feverish light. “You shouldn’t be speaking like this.”

  Andraste grinned. “See, you fall into line as well. Although I suppose you are bound by your oath and your sword.”

  “I am,” he replied
gravely.

  “And that is part of why I love you,” she said earnestly, sliding her arms around him and pressing her cheek into his chest. He blinked and felt his arms embrace her even as he struggled to comprehend what she’d just said. She looked up at him, her alabaster skin pale against the dark blue fabric of his shirt, her dark hair a silken cloud about her face. Pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw, she murmured the word over and over, like an incantation. “Love, love, love.”

  After a moment, he emerged from his frozen shock and said quietly, “I love you.” He tasted the words on his tongue and found they were strangely bittersweet, but he quickly forgot the sharp bitterness as Andraste smiled brilliantly, her happiness banishing all his misgivings.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a strange haze. Finn supposed that was what it felt like to be so happy that it overwhelmed the rest of one’s senses – or that was what he told himself. He thought more than once that perhaps this was a dream, or he’d caught one of the summer fevers and lay delirious on his sweat-twisted sheets. But every so often Andraste pressed a kiss to his lips, and the sharpness of his joy, so piercing it was almost pain, cut through his chest again. Love, he thought dizzily, felt much the same as grief in its capacity to flood the senses and make all else seem dingy and gray.

  They rode back to Darkhill in companionable silence, as though words would puncture this strange, fragile bubble of incandescent happiness surrounding them. Ramel and Rye rode behind them, deep in conversation.

  “I can find no evidence in the history texts that the Seafarers even existed,” said Ramel.

  “Perhaps everything isn’t in your history texts,” countered Rye in good-natured argument.

  “You’re saying you expect me to believe an old legend with no shred of evidence?”

  “No, I expect you to consider the idea that not everything is contained in your books,” said Rye. “There’s precious little on the ulfdrengr, for example, and that’s why I went north. I wanted to know them, I wanted to learn about them.”

  “There aren’t any Seafarers to ask,” pointed out Ramel. “No one sails beyond the horizon at Queensport, because no ship has ever returned. It’s a useless waste.”

  “Perhaps they never returned because they found something lovely and enticing beyond the horizon,” said Rye.

  “What, like a cove of mermaids and fields of golden wheat that sow themselves?”

  Finn heard the shrug in Rye’s voice. “Perhaps.”

  “At least someone’s seen a mermaid. I’ll believe in them.”

  “You’ve never seen a dragon, do you believe they exist?”

  “That’s debatable. Some Scholars believe Ralclyf the Red was the last, and he was killed over a century ago.”

  “A pity, if that’s true,” murmured Rye.

  “Why?” demanded Finn’s squire. “Dragons are nasty, destructive creatures. Good riddance if they’re all dead, they won’t be able to flame any cities and wreak havoc.”

  Rye was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “Why do we celebrate the Summer Solstice, if we are a people of winter and darkness?”

  “Because it marks the turning of the year back toward winter,” replied Ramel. “You know that as well as I do.”

  Rye hummed in agreement. “Yes, but think about that on a grander scale. There is a balance of light and darkness in the world, just as there is a balance of summer and winter, night and day. I don’t think we can truly understand that equilibrium. It isn’t our place to try to eradicate all the darkness.”

  “You mean darkness like evil,” said Ramel. He made a considering noise. “And why not? What would be so bad about a world without evil?”

  “Light does not exist without darkness. Good does not exist without evil.” Rye paused. “Freedom does not exist without sacrifice.”

  Finn didn’t miss Andraste’s sudden alertness and attention to the conversation.

  “That third one doesn’t really fit in with your first two comparisons,” murmured Ramel.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d catch that,” said Rye with a chuckle. She turned the conversation back to mermaids, and Ramel happily discussed the differences between mermaids and sirens for the rest of the ride back to the west gate. Finn, for his part, felt the euphoria of the afternoon slowly fade, withering away as the weight of his duties and his obligations to his oath and his service to the Queen settled back onto him. He saw the disappointment on Andraste’s face when he did not mirror her giddy smile when they bid farewell, but he also saw the question in Ramel’s eyes and the caution written across Rye’s expression.

  His squire followed a stride behind him back to his quarters. He felt strangely exhausted as he lit the fire-rune at the hearth with a snap of his fingers. The flames flared to life and he stared at them for a moment.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Ramel asked quietly.

  “I don’t know, Ramel,” Finn replied with a sigh. He frowned slightly. Why did he feel so despondent? Shouldn’t he be exhilarated at the prospect of being in love with the Princess, knowing that she loved him as well?

  Does she love you, or does she think she loves you in her youthful ignorance? whispered a small voice in the corner of his mind.

  “You know that you have only to ask for my help, sir, in any form that may take,” said his faithful squire.

  Finn smiled slightly at the loyal words. “I know, Ramel. I think this is something I must puzzle through on my own, though.”

  “If I may, sir, I haven’t known you to puzzle through much,” said Ramel. “You evaluate a situation and make a decision. I have never seen you hesitate or falter.”

  Finn shook his head. “I’m not perfect, lad. I’ve never said I was and I don’t want you to see me so.”

  “Never said you were perfect, sir, just that you don’t puzzle,” corrected Ramel with a hint of impishness.

  Finn chuckled. “I hope your sharp tongue survives the gauntlet.”

  His squire opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it. They both knew what he’d been about to say: I hope I survive the gauntlet. Ramel cleared his throat and shifted uneasily.

  “Any tasks for me tonight?”

  “Let’s see. We finished the provisions yesterday,” said Finn. He stared into the flames and directed his mind toward the preparations for the journey to the White City.

  “And that includes the feed for the faehal, though I don’t think we’ll need it,” added Ramel.

  “Guard Elias and Guard Halin have contributed their share?”

  Ramel nodded. “And we packed provisions for a party of ten, though we only have eight going on the trip.”

  “Two Guards, a Knight and his squire, the Princess and three of her ladies.” Finn nodded and paced slowly in front of the fire. “I think perhaps we should add one more to our number.”

  “A Healer, sir?”

  “Perhaps. Or a Walker.”

  “I know of a candidate,” said Ramel, carefully controlling his voice to contain his sudden eagerness.

  “Not a journeyman, I’m afraid,” said Finn with a smile. “I have the utmost faith in Murtagh’s abilities, but I think it was a stretch to justify taking you along, to be honest.”

  “You are the Princess’s close guard,” said Ramel, as though that explained everything. In a way, thought Finn, perhaps it did.

  “Yes,” he replied neutrally.

  “Sir,” ventured Ramel, “perhaps this is forward of me…but is there any concern with the increase in the number of the wolf-creatures killed by the patrols?”

  “It is something that has become rather commonplace,” said Finn. “I don’t think they would attack a party as large as ours.”

  “If the creatures attack mounted Knights and Guards, why wouldn’t they attack us?”

  A prickle of unease crawled across Finn’s neck. He rubbed it away. When had his squire gotten so damn perceptive, and how had he not thought of this already himself? Was he letti
ng himself be distracted by thoughts of Andraste? “We’ll use fire runes in a circle about our camp and set a watch.”

  Ramel sighed slightly at the mention of a watch, knowing full well that as a squire he’d catch the brunt of the darkest hours. But he nodded in agreement. “Yes, sir.”

  “Ensure we have our maps in order tonight. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll meet with the two Guards to go over our route. Hopefully everyone will be in agreement.”

  “Will you be going over the route with the Princess as well?” Ramel asked carefully.

  Finn frowned. “It’s our duty to protect her on the journey to the White City. Part of that is selecting the appropriate route.”

  “Just saying, sir,” his squire said, each word placed as delicately as footsteps around a snoring old Knight in the Knight’s Hall, “that at least giving the Princess a glimpse of our plan might make her feel…included.”

  I feel like I’m in a cage sometimes. Andraste’s words echoed in his head. He took a breath and then nodded. “We’ll brief both her and Lady Rye.”

  “You know Lady Rye considers herself a part of the protective detail,” said Ramel.

  “And I’m glad to have her,” said Finn without hesitation. “But at least for the purposes of our planning, she is one of the Princess’s ladies.”

  His squire nodded. “Understood, sir.” He paused. “Do you think we shall continue with our practice sessions during the journey?”

  “I can’t say. I think the Princess’s interest in archery is common knowledge at this point, though I don’t know that I can say the same about her competence with a blade.”

  “You would call her competent with a blade?”

  Finn looked sharply at his squire, but there was only courteous interest on Ramel’s face. “I would, yes. Perhaps not by the same standard as I would judge you, but she is more than competent to defend herself until a Guard or Knight can step in.”

  “And why not judge her by the same standard? If we wish women to be given the chance to earn their sword, the standard should stay the same, as you’ve said before yourself, sir.”