by Sarina Dorie
A Court of Faerie
SON OF A FAE SERIES
BOOK 2
SARINA DORIE
Copyright © 2020 Sarina Dorie
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 979-8648740938
WORKS BY SARINA DORIE
COLLECTIONS OF FUNNY SHORT STORIES
Fairies, Robots and Unicorns—Oh My!
Ghosts, Werewolves and Zombies—Oh My!
stand-alone Novels
Dawn of the Morning Star
Urban Changeling
The Chronicles of Dartania
Silent Moon
Fairy Godmother Mysteries
Wrath of the Tooth Fairy
The Memory Thief Series
Steamy Steampunk mysteries
The Memory Thief
The Geari Wife
Clockwork Memories
The Lost Memories of Meriwether Klark
Silkpunk and Steam
The Memory Keeper
NOT-SO-COZY MYSTERIES
IN THE womby’s school for wayward witches SERIES listed in order
Tardy Bells and Witches’ Spells
Hex-Ed
Witches Gone Wicked
A Handful of Hexes
Hexes and Exes
Reading, Writing and Necromancy
Budget Cuts for the Dark Arts and Crafts
My Crazy Hex-Boyfriend
Spell It Out for Me
Hex Crimes
Of Curse You Will
Cackles and Cauldrons
Hex and the City
Wedding Bells and Midnight Spells
Hex Appeal
Safe Hex
The Joy of Hex
Hedgewitchin’ in the Kitchen
The Trouble with Hedge witches SERIES
The Witch of Nightmares
A Cauldron Full of Curses
A Pocket Full of Poison
The Witch’s Familiar
SON OF A SUCCUBUS SERIES
A Familiar Magic
Curse of the Witching Hour
Magical Maladies for Beginners
The Physics of Souls
Incubus Charms
A Vial Full of Magic
A Devil of a Time
SON OF A FAE SERIES
A Court of Muses
A Court of Faerie
A Court of Nightmares
A Court of Ravens
A Court of Witchkin
A Court of Magic
A Court of Shadows and Lies
The vega bloodmire
cozy witch mystery series
Ghoulish Charms
The Hex Files With Felix Thatch
Paranormal Mystery series
Talented and Goblin
No Way in Spell
Other Titles to Be Announced
Table of Contents
WORKS BY SARINA DORIE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
1630
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
PREVIEW
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The Son of a Fae Series is a spin-off of the Womby’s School for Wayward Witches Series. The first two novels take place before Clarissa Lawrence was born and detail Captain Errol’s life and his mysterious past before the Womby’s School for Wayward Witches Series. The third book and onward is contemporary fantasy and take place after the battle with the Raven Queen.
The first two books are more prequels than what I consider book 1 and book 2 but there is no option to include prequels in a series on Amazon, so that is how they are listed.
The first three books are meant to be read in any order.
* * *
I want to encourage you to sign up for my newsletter if you haven’t already done so. This helps me as an author connect to my readers and lets you know when books are being released. Once a month in my newsletter, I send my readers at least one FREE short story or free novel.
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Happy reading!
1630
in the Faerie Realm
CHAPTER ONE
An Eye for An Eye and a Wing for a Wing
Errol of Ffynnoncaernpenrhynpentre, son of Gwendolyn and Wilberth—Captain Errol as he was known in those days—was away from the Silver Court’s castle, in the palace of the Verde Court, when his sister died.
He’d been housed with a troop of the royal guard, protecting King Viridios of the Silver Court—his sovereign and employer. He only learned the news when he returned to Ffynnoncaernpenrhynpentre—capital of the Silver Court. The Welsh word meant “spring fortress promontory village” but was more commonly called Caern.
Errol thought he was about to get some rest after his long journey when he returned to his quarters. His private room was a luxury only permitted to officers. That was where he discovered the note that had been slipped under the door while he had been away.
Alma had died three days before his return. She had been walking into Caern to place the week’s orders for the kitchen at the butcher when a flock of harpies from the Raven Court had attacked for the sport of it and left her for dead.
Now that Errol was all alone in the world with no parents left alive, his only sibling dead, and her husband, his best friend, some twenty years dead, Errol stared at the letter, numb with horror, not wanting to believe it was true.
Alma hadn’t died right away. She’d lain in a ditch for hours unnoticed. Another kitchen maid had come looking for her in the village, and when she’d found Alma, the other maid had tried to solicit help from people in the shops nearby, but the only man she could get to aid her was a brothel owner, who carried Alma into his business and placed her on a bed. The kitchen maid went to fetch a doctor, but Alma was dead by the time her coworker returned.
Of all the indignities, his sister had died in a brothel. If Errol had been home at the time, he could have prevented her death. Someone would have fetched him when she’d gone missing. Once he’d found her, he could have used magic to transport the court physician or one of the healers who tended to the guards.
If he had been at home, he could have pursued Alma’s attackers and punished them.
Instead, Errol went to the kitchen and spoke to the other kitchen staff, hearing the entirety of the story all over again. Alma had been the head cook in the castle and had been well liked, yet they had replaced her the day she died, smoothly filling in the gap made by her absence as if she had never been there.
When Errol learned it was Kendra who had taken Alma’s place, a woman his sister had never liked, he was even more enraged. He stormed off.
The idea that his sister was expendable and could be replaced so easily only fueled Errol’s fury further. He sent a petition to the king to seek retribution from the Raven Court. Being one of many captains, and having spoken with the king directly only a handful of times in his life, Errol didn’t expect to be summoned to the king’s personal study the next day.
It was a grandiose room full of art and books written by human authors the king had inspired himself. The l
ight of the chandelier flickered over crystals inlaid into the walls. The king sat in a chair nearly as immense as a throne behind the desk.
King Viridios wore flowing robes embroidered with silver and gold that matched his wiry shock of hair. His hair shimmered so much it was difficult to tell where his glittering crown of diamonds began and where it ended. On each finger he wore a ring, the most elaborate being a large ruby carved with an ancient rune. The shadows around him danced.
Errol knew too well that meant his shadow goblin spies were present.
He approached the king and bowed. King Viridios didn’t offer Errol a seat. Even if the two chairs opposite the king had not already been occupied, he probably wouldn’t have offered a mere guard a chair.
In each seat lounged one of the king’s sons. Prince Elric-Atherius was just over a hundred, fifty years Errol’s senior, though he looked slightly younger than Errol. Prince Beorhtsige was three hundred but didn’t look a day over thirty. Prince Beorhtsige wore attire similar to his father’s, though his tunic appeared to be made from the iridescent wings of dragonflies. His face was powdered and his facial features enhanced with glamour.
Prince Elric-Atherius was dressed in riding breeches, an Elizabethan collar, and layers of mismatching brocade. It had been twenty years since the king’s youngest son had last been to court. Errol liked to imagine it was his words to King Viridios that had permitted Prince Elric-Atherius to live in the countryside, free of the debauchery of the Silver Court—free to love as he chose without his sister-wife murdering his children or mistresses.
On the other hand, it was difficult for Errol to believe he had that much influence with a king.
Errol’s gaze shifted from the princes to the king, not knowing what to expect with the presence of three members of the royal family.
The king spoke, and a butterfly fluttered out of his mouth and landed on his ear. “I have read your petition for retribution. After carefully thinking it over, I have decided to grant you approval. As my sons need experience in handling matters of state, they will take over this matter for me.”
Prince Beorhtsige didn’t even look at Errol. His tone dripped with insolence. “Petitioning on behalf of a lowly guard is beneath me. If it were up to me, I would—”
“As I said before, it isn’t up to you.” The king’s voice rose, and his hair turned black, smoldering with flames, which quickly died out. The butterfly sizzled and popped before it managed to fly off. “Any atrocities committed by our enemies on my loyal subjects will be investigated, and consequences will be assigned. Those mercenaries of the Raven Court who trespassed on my land cost me a tax-paying citizen. I am entitled to collect for these damages. You will not allow the Raven Court to get away with one act against me or my subjects.”
Errol saw how it was now. His loss was being used as a political example.
“Also, she was a cook employed in our castle,” Prince Elric-Atherius said. “You didn’t just lose a tax-paying citizen, but a skilled and trained craftsperson.”
Prince Beorhtsige’s lips drew back into a sneer. “A scullery maid isn’t a craftsperson. The wording must be particular in our letter.”
The king rose and left his seat. Errol fought the urge to squirm back from his sovereign as the Fae king’s magic pushed up against his own.
King Viridios placed a hand on Errol’s shoulder, the gesture unexpectedly gentle. “Alma was your only kin?” His gaze swept over Errol’s face, as if searching for something in his expression.
Errol swallowed the lump that formed in his throat upon hearing his sister’s name. “Just so, Your Majesty.”
“It is a terrible thing to be all alone in the world without kin.” He patted Errol’s shoulder.
Prince Elric-Atherius nodded, his eyes full of sympathy.
Prince Beorhtsige rolled his eyes. “I think I should welcome fewer kin.”
Errol didn’t doubt Prince Beorhtsige would have liked fewer family members between him and the throne.
“I shall leave you in my sons’ capable hands.” The king strode out of the room.
The air became noticeably less thick with magic when he departed.
“Oh goody!” Prince Elric-Atherius leapt from his chair. “We get to use father’s seal to stamp petitions!”
Errol was left with the king’s most inexperienced sons, one a compassionate simpleton and the other an apathetic brute.
Perhaps he would have done better seeking revenge on his own.
* * *
The response from the Raven Court came two weeks later. Errol was summoned from dinner with his commander and the other officers. The messenger said he was to go to the king’s private study to meet the king’s sons immediately.
Errol knew precisely why.
“Also, they said to be sure to bring your saber,” the messenger said.
Errol was in his dress uniform, so the saber with him was more ornamental than practical; however, it would do. He was so eager to hear the news that he transported himself with magic to the interior of the castle, an enchantment few were permitted to use within the walls of the Silver Court, aside from the royal family and their guards.
Errol found the door to the study open. It was usually the custom to be shown in or invited inside. The two princes squabbled before a heap of quivering rags, too distracted to notice Errol and invite him inside.
“I told you not to include that part in the letter.” Prince Beorhtsige crossed his arms. “What did you expect they would do when you put such emphasis on the king losing a kitchen maid?”
Errol cleared his throat, but neither prince noticed him.
Prince Elric-Atherius sat on his father’s desk. “It isn’t a complete loss. It’s a learning experience for us all.”
Errol stepped forward reluctantly, uncomfortable about the breach in protocol. As he neared the heap of rags, he saw that it was a filthy young woman. He barely recognized her as being such with her mottled purple-green skin and dark hair hanging in clumps. She had little magic within her, and what was there, tasted like a Witchkin affinity for plants rather than that of a Fae with a wider range of abilities. The woman’s head was down, and she kneeled on the floor crying.
Errol’s brow furrowed. “What’s this?”
“Your restitution,” Prince Beorhtsige said.
Errol looked from one prince to the other. This had to be a jest. “You sent a letter with our king’s seal, seeking justice. How is this justice? They were supposed to send me the harpies who murdered my sister.” He placed a hand on the hilt of the sword at his belt.
The young woman whimpered.
Prince Elric-Atherius waved a letter in the air. “No one came forward and admitted to the crime. Therefore, there was no one to find guilty to send to you.”
Errol was so impatient to read the letter himself, he snatched it from the prince, not caring whether he was considered insolent for doing so. The vellum was so soft, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it were made from the skin of human babies. The ink was the dark rust of dried blood. Nauseating waves of magic rose from the vellum, an essence of nightshade and pain. Even if he hadn’t seen the Raven Queen’s seal, he would have known it came from her court.
He scanned the letter.
King Viridios,
I have questioned every subject about the matter of this unfortunate incident. As we cannot find the culprit that robbed you of your precious head cook, I have sent you one of ours to do as you see fit. You may employ her and tax her, or you may execute her to satiate your need to create a balance between our kingdoms.
Yours,
Morgaine, Queen of Pain and Pleasure
Rage fizzled and popped inside Errol.
“No.” Errol threw down the vellum and gestured to the filthy girl. “This is not what I want. You were supposed to ensure I could kill Alma’s murderers. I need to be granted permission to go to the Raven Court’s territory and find her killers. I will avenge m
y sister’s death with their blood.”
Prince Elric-Atherius’ brows knitted together with concern. “Father isn’t going to allow that. The Raven Queen would then be able to demand restitution for any damage you cause. It’s because you’re one of his loyal subjects employed in this house.”
Errol’s face flushed with heat. If the king had really cared, he wouldn’t have allowed his imbecile sons to practice their hand at politics with him as the test subject.
He would do anything for his sister, even after her death. Yet all he could do was avenge her murder, and even that had been taken from him.
“Very well,” Errol said. “Then I will resign from His Majesty’s service and renounce my allegiance to the Silver Court.” He would become a rogue Fae, not aligned to any Court. He would be free to seek revenge.
“Permission denied,” said Prince Beorhtsige.
Errol glared. It hadn’t been a request.
Prince Beorhtsige sighed dramatically. “For some reason I cannot fathom, Father likes you. He’s already told me you aren’t allowed to resign because you have so much potential. If you go off on a rampage and run amok in the Raven Court, he said we will have to pay for any damages out of our allowance.” He nodded to his brother.
Prince Elric-Atherius fidgeted with the ruffles on his sleeve. “We did get a new cook out of it.”
“No one cares about getting a new cook,” Prince Beorhtsige said. “Even if she is capable, no one can trust her to prepare meals for the royal family after serving the Raven Queen. She might be an assassin or a spy.”
The maid shook her head and hunkered lower.
“You’ve been given a gift by the Raven Queen to serve as a substitution for those on whom you cannot take your vengeance.” Prince Beorhtsige nodded to Errol’s saber. “Go on.”
Errol stepped back from the prince. “How is killing someone innocent going to help? That won’t bring my sister back.”
Prince Elric-Atherius strode toward Errol. He placed a hand on his shoulder. “How will killing her murderers bring your sister back either?” His eyes were full of sorrow and sympathy.