Following shortly behind him, a young guy comes in. There’s no doubt he’s the king’s son—he looks exactly like him. For the first time, I’m looking at the boy I’ve been betrothed to since I was twelve. Only he’s not a boy. If this guy were to set foot in my high school back in Atlanta, there would be some sort of hormone-infused girl-fight in the cafeteria.
Like his father, he’s tall, broad-shouldered, with loose blond curls and remarkable green eyes. My fiancé is probably the best-looking eighteen year old I’ve ever seen in my life. And there’s no way I can marry him.
I rise to greet them. Instantly a tremor begins in my fingers. The tiny earthquake travels up my arms, to my stomach, down to my legs where it settles in, making me want to fall back into my chair.
I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I can do this.
Greetings Vancia, and welcome to our home. I trust this occasion is as happy for you as it is for… all of us? The king shifts his face slightly to give his son the evil eye, as if daring him to disagree.
This is it. My opportunity to say what I’ve come to say.
Well, actually…
The door opens again, and a panicked-looking servant pokes his head in, capturing the full attention of my groom and his father. And then the younger guy spins and runs from the room. Heaving a heavy sigh, King Ivar turns back to me.
Forgive my son. And excuse me for a moment. We have an unexpected visitor and must deal with her. I shall return shortly. He sweeps from the room, leaving me breathless and confused.
Her? Who would dare come to Altum uninvited? I sit, but stand again after only a minute. Pacing the room, I start on my fingernails once more. What’s going on? What if they don’t come back before the ceremony? I didn’t get a chance to tell Ivar about Pappa’s plan.
Finally I peer from the room into the empty hallway. Around the corner is the ballroom and past that, the entrance to the royal dwelling. If there’s a visitor—that’s where she’d be, right?
Looking left then right, scanning the hall, I leave the room and make my way toward the front door. Indeed, my groom is visible through the open doorway. Just beyond him, I see the back of his father’s head. Crossing the distance to the door, I stand just inside, watching.
Clearly the king is engaged in a very serious conversation. Since it’s all conducted in our native language, I can’t hear it. When we communicate silently, our messages go only to the person for whom we intend them, like text messaging, rather than Facebook.
But then I do hear something—a human voice—a girl’s voice. And then my fiancé speaks—out loud. I didn’t even know he could do that. I can’t stand it any longer. I slip through the opening and go to his side, touching his shoulder.
Is everything all right? Who is this?
He tears his eyes from the human girl and gives me his attention. His gaze is wild, desperate-looking. I’m sorry. I haven’t seen her for a while. I don’t know what she’s doing here. Please go back inside, and I’ll explain later.
Darting one last glance at the pretty, sad-looking girl, I turn and go back to my small sitting room. So this is why my fiancé seems so reluctant to follow through with the ceremony. There’s someone else. A human. Is the son of the Light Elf king actually in love with her? I can’t prevent a hysterical laugh from escaping my lips. I would never have dreamed there’d be a scandal to top the one I’m about to cause.
The pounding of footsteps draws my attention to the open door, and I see the prince’s back disappear into the darkness at the far end of the corridor. Another involuntary giggle erupts. Maybe this conversation with King Ivar won’t be necessary after all. Apparently I have a runaway groom.
After another few minutes, the king returns. Forgive the interruption. My son will join us momentarily—he needs a few moments to regain his composure.
No he doesn’t, I say.
Excuse me?
He doesn’t need to go through with this. I look straight into Ivar’s eyes, hoping he’ll be able to read my utter sincerity. I don’t want to marry your son. Nothing against him or you. It’s because I don’t want to deceive either of you.
The king’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t respond, only stares, waiting for me to continue.
My father’s intentions for this marriage are not pure. He wants me to influence your son. He wants to use us both to draw your people into his scheme to enslave the humans, to bring back the old order of Elven rule and human subjugation. I look down at my feet, ashamed to have ever considered going along with the plan. I’m so sorry it’s gone this far. I don’t want to dishonor my father or your son, but I cannot go through with this.
There is no answer. Looking back up to see Ivar’s reaction, I’m shocked to see his eyes fill with tears. Finally, he responds.
Thank you for telling me this. Of course, I release you from the marriage pact. But you may not be welcome to live among your people after this. Please know you will always have a home among mine.
Thank you. But I plan to go my own way. Hesitating, I finally gather the courage to ask about his puzzling emotional reaction—I’d expected anger, not sorrow. Are you well, sir?
He nods. I’m ashamed of myself—I have a lot of work to do to repair my relationship with my son. I need to go find him. Remember what I said about your father—be careful. From what I know of him, mercy is not his first nature.
I will.
He leaves the room and strides down the corridor where my now-ex-fiancé disappeared. I emerge from the room and turn in a bewildered circle. Where to go now? What to do?
I’ll have to face Pappa eventually, so I might as well find him and get that over with. He’s probably glad-handing inside the ballroom, accepting congratulations as the father of the bride-and-future-queen. Oh, this is not going to be a pretty conversation.
Chapter Eighteen
Sighting
I grasp one of the ballroom’s double door handles, preparing to seek out Pappa and discreetly lead him to a private location where we can talk. Happy sounds drift through into the hallway—clinking glasses, lilting Fae music, and laughter. The crowd inside is ready for a good time, a celebration.
Taking one last fortifying breath, I press a clenched fist into my stomach to quell the stampede of butterflies gathering steam. I squeeze my eyelids shut and give the handle a tug. But my fingers loosen and the door softly closes again when a voice grabs my attention. A loud voice. An angry voice. It’s coming from just outside the royal residence, in the common area.
She’s still here.
Unable to resist one last peek at the girl who’s claimed the heart of the Elven prince—my former fiancé—I go to the palace’s front door and peer through the opening.
She stands in the middle of the path, halfway between my hiding place and the tunnel that leads out of Altum. She’s upset. And she’s not alone.
Her face is red, her hands clenched, as she argues with an extremely tall, dark-haired Elven guy whose back is to me. Maybe he’s a guard who’s kicking her out or something?
But no, she’s storming away, and he’s grabbing her sleeve to stop her. Interesting. There’s more heated conversation, the words of which I’m too far away to understand, and then she succeeds in pushing him away and runs toward the opening of the tunnel to the surface.
The guy stares after her, tension holding his powerful body in a state of suspended animation. Then his shoulders fall, and he slowly turns my way.
Oh my God.
By the time I see him in profile, my adrenaline is spiking to fight-or-flight levels. Could it really be him? I fling open the doors and launch myself through them.
And my entire body jerks back as if I’ve been struck by a moving vehicle. Something has snagged my dress, and I’m going down fast, but I don’t hit the ground. Powerful arms catch my fall a moment before my head impacts the stone floor.
“What have you done?” Pappa yells, yanking me upright to face him. He slams the door shut, closing out the shadowy male figure
in the distance.
Pulling toward the door in desperation, I try to wrench myself away from Pappa. “I… I need to go—I need to see—”
“You’re not going anywhere until you explain to me why I’ve just been informed there will be no wedding today.”
His grip on my bare upper arms is punishing, fingertips digging into the tender flesh. Squirming in an attempt to dislodge them only makes his hold tighter.
“I can’t do it Pappa,” I cry. “It’s wrong. You’ve always warned me that bonding is forever. I can’t bond myself to someone based on a lie. Especially when he’s as opposed to it as I am.”
The veins in Pappa’s neck bulge dangerously. “You talked to him. You told him.”
“I told the king. I didn’t get a chance to tell his son. It’s for the best, Pappa. You’ll see.”
I hear the crack of his palm striking my cheek a split second before the stinging pain registers in my brain. Staggering backward, I stare at Pappa in shock.
“The only thing I see,” he hisses, his pointing finger shaking in the air between us. “Is a foolish girl who’s destroyed five years of my careful work in one moment of ignorant self-interest. You have no idea what you’ve done. You will regret this.”
Holding my fingers to my throbbing cheek, I respond in a voice thick with tears. “I regret disappointing you. But you’re wrong. I do know what I’ve done—the right thing. And I’m not going to just blindly follow your orders anymore. I will have my own life.”
He barks out an ugly laugh. “Yes. You are on your own. No one will help you now. No one will care about you. And no one will want you.”
“You may be right.”
He probably is, and I do want to belong somewhere to someone. But not at any cost. Swiping the wetness from my face, I turn to leave, to go back to my room and pack the few meager belongings I brought with me—which now amount to all my worldly possessions, I suppose.
Pappa’s bitter voice follows me, curling around my ears like black smoke from a trash fire. “You’ll be back, you know. Someday you’ll fall at my feet and beg me for forgiveness, beg me to take you in again.”
I shake my head, not turning back around, not even glancing over my shoulder. There’s no point in it. I know what’s behind me. My past.
And out there somewhere, far above us on the surface, where the sun shines on the humans and the Elven race alike, is my future.
Somewhere out there—perhaps not too far away—is Nox Knight. I will find him. I will determine the truth about the fate of my beloved childhood friend, my first innocent love.
And if he’s the same boy I knew long ago, if he really is alive, then perhaps Pappa is wrong.
Perhaps there is someone who will want me. Who will love me for who I was then, for who I really am deep down inside, and for who I will become.
THE END
Would you like to know more about the world of the Light Elves and find out what the Dark Elves are really up to? The Hidden Trilogy begins with book one, HIDDEN DEEP. Here’s the story:
HIDDEN DEEP… Lad’s not even supposed to talk to a human, much less fall in love with one…
Ryann’s just run into the guy who saved her life ten years ago. You might think she’d be happy to see him again. Not exactly. She’s a bit underdressed, and he’s not supposed to exist.
“I was immediately drawn to the cool, quiet tranquility of the woods. The details jumped off the page in deep green leaves and cold clear water. Then Lad and Ryann swept me right off my feet... I was glad that I started Hidden Deep on a Friday so that I could read straight through the night into the breaking hours of dawn. It ended way too quickly. I hope the continuation will be out soon. I will be making plans for another Friday night lost in the world of Lad and Ryann.” AJ- Bitten by Books
“I really got into this story, and every time I reached the end of a chapter I couldn't resist going onto the next one… Hidden Deep was a YA fantasy novel like no other. In a world of vampires and demons and witches, a new story with a new mythical background is always welcome. It was a funny, romantic, refreshing read that I'm glad I got to pick up. I'd definitely be interested in reading the rest of this trilogy.” Jessica-- The Book Bratz YA book blog
Thank you for reading THE SWAY: A Hidden Trilogy Novella. I hope you enjoyed it!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Patrick is a two-time Golden Heart finalist (2013 and 2014) who writes Contemporary Romance and Young Adult fantasy/paranormal romance. She is the author of the Hidden Trilogy and the 20 Something series. Living in New England now with her husband and two sons, she actually craves the heat and humidity of Mississippi, where she grew up. She's been a professional singer and news anchor and currently narrates audio books as well as working as a station host for a Boston TV station.
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~FAERY TALES CONTENTS~
THE MORRIGAN
HOW TO BABYSIT A CHANGELING
FAELEAHN
ARRANGED
WITHOUT ARMOR
Want more multi-author bundles filled with fae magic, romance, and adventure? Scoop these enchanting collections up for only .99 cents!
FAERY WORLDS
FAERY REALMS
HOW TO BABYSIT A CHANGELING
A Feyland Tale
Copyright 2015 by Anthea Sharp. All rights reserved. Please do not share or upload this book without permission – support indie authors! This is a work of fiction - any resemblance to characters living or dead is purely coincidental.
Cover art by Ellerslie, via Fotolia, used by licensed permission.
~*~
NOTE TO READERS: This story takes place during the events depicted in The Twilight Kingdom (Book 3 of the Feyland Trilogy). The storyline of How to Babysit a Changeling is woven throughout The Twilight Kingdom, and this novella reveals the ending. If you have not yet finished reading the complete trilogy, be aware that there are spoilers ahead!
Recommended reading order:
Feyland: The First Adventure (free ebook on all retailers)
Feyland: The Dark Realm – Book 1
Feyland: The Bright Court – Book 2
Feyland: The Twilight Kingdom – Book 3
How to Babysit a Changeling
Trinket (short story)
Spark: Feyguard Book 1
Royal: Feyguard Book 2
Marny: Feyguard Book 3 (Coming Summer 2015)
Don’t miss Marny’s release! Sign up for Anthea’s mailing list to be notified the instant the book is on sale. You will also receive a bonus free short story upon joining. http://eepurl.com/1qtFb
HOW TO BABYSIT A CHANGELING
The cafeteria at Crestview High was filled with the din of conversation, the clank of silverware on plasmetal trays, and somebody’s tunes cranked up too loud, screeching tinnily out of their earbuds. Despite the noise, despite the smell of floor cleaner mixed with cooked cabbage, despite the fact that high school was all kinds of tedious, Marny Fanalua never let things get to her. It wasn’t worth getting tangled up in small annoyances—and almost everything was small, when you took a breath and looked at it.
She sat across from her friends, slightly scruffy Tam Linn and rich-girl Jennet Carter. They’d all found out recently that life was a lot more interesting than they’d ever imagined.
A little too interesting at times, maybe. It wasn’t every day a person discovered that
their favorite sim video game was actually a portal into a treacherous magical world.
Marny leaned forward and rested her broad arms on the table, studying Tam’s face. She’d known him a long time, and she could tell by the tightness around his eyes—what she could see of them behind the screen of his overlong brown hair—that something was severely wrong.
Wrong beyond the usual tweaked state of Tam’s life, which was bad enough. Nobody could call scraping by in the Exe fun.
Maybe his mom had taken off again. In Marny’s opinion the woman barely qualified for the title, other than the fact that she’d given birth to Tam and his little brother. So, either his mom had gone off her meds and left Tam and the Bug in the lurch again, or something freaky was going on.
And if it was something freaky, that meant magic. Fey magic.
“Okay, spill it,” she said.
Jennet sent her a grateful half-smile, but Marny stayed focused on Tam. He clenched one hand, then smoothed it out flat over the scraped tabletop. Before speaking, he shot a quick glance at the neighboring tables, but nobody was paying attention to them. Why should they? She and Tam were misfits—always had been. And Jennet had become a lost cause to the status-conscious Viewer kids since becoming Tam’s sort-of girlfriend.
“They’ve taken my little brother,” Tam said, his voice tight.
Oh, crap. Marny narrowed her eyes. Tam’s brother, the Bug, was a sweet kid, if a bit random.
“They, as in the Dark Court faeries?” she asked. Tam nodded, and coldness settled in the pit of her stomach. “How do you know?”
Faery Tales: Six Novellas of Magic and Adventure (Faery Worlds Book 3) Page 14