I shook my head. “I’m not worried about Jax. There will be so many people at the ball, keeping out of his way won’t be a problem. But there’s no way I can turn up there looking like myself. They won’t even let me into the ballroom. There must be someone like Jax here in Seelie. Someone who could glamour me with their magic?” There was no one exactly like Jax. He was the last of his kind. But perhaps Everleigh knew of someone else.
Her lips pressed together. “You might try Myles.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Father can glamour things?” I hadn’t known that about him.
She shook her head. “What your father does is not a glamour. A glamour is something that must be held in place, constantly draining the magic of the user and it is only the illusion of change. The spell your father could once do makes physical changes that only puca like Jax can see through. Whether he can do it any longer, I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to use his magic anymore.”
I was out the door before she’d finished speaking, my heart in my mouth. This was a long shot. The only time I could recall Father using his magic since we rescued him from King Aengus was the night of the attack on Lanwick Island. Whenever I asked why he didn’t use it, he always laughed it off, telling me his magic was weak and useless. But he’d forgotten I had seen his magic when he used it that night on the island, and it wasn’t the pale shade of weak magic.
I found Father in the stables, as I knew I would. He had rooms in the castle, but I wasn’t sure how often he slept there. He seemed most comfortable down here with the horses. Other than the days when he helped me at court, he spent most of his time here. He smiled when he saw me, his eyes lighting. “Bria. You don’t look like you’re dressed for a ride, so to what do I owe the pleasure?”
I rubbed the nose of the horse he was grooming, ignoring the urge to find Raven, climb on her back and ride with no destination in mind, just for the fun of it. I’d hardly ridden her in months. There was no time for that on a normal day, and I was already certain today would not be a normal day. Instead, I settled for inhaling the smell of the stables—hay and other, less pleasant odors—which, strangely, I found relaxing. Perhaps I could understand why Father spent so much time here.
“I need someone to make me look different. Everleigh said you could do it.”
Father laughed. “No. I’m afraid Everleigh’s mistaken. She’d be better than me at putting some makeup on your face to change your look.”
“I don’t want makeup.” I watched him work, his brush making round strokes over the horse’s rump. I didn’t think Everleigh was mistaken. There wasn’t much that happened at the castle—or across Seelie—that she wasn’t aware of. Plus, she’d known Father for many years. “She said you used to be good at changing the appearance of things. When you were younger.”
A sad smile crossed his face as he brushed the horse. “Yes. I suppose I was.”
I waited, but he said nothing else. “I’m sure you still are. I mean, I don’t think using magic is something you forget how to do.”
He lifted his eyebrows in response, and I wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or disagreeing.
“Father, please. It’s an emergency. Fergus is in trouble.”
His eyes met mine. “Why do you care?”
I shrugged. I’d asked myself the same thing several times as we’d waited for Fergus to use his magic while Everleigh watched. I shouldn’t care. The removal of the bond had made sure of that. But there were other reasons. Less personal reasons. “It would be a pity if he were to die when, for the first time in many years, our two kingdoms are not at war. There are no more male heirs in his line and his successor would have to be found by a melee. There are no guarantees that fae would keep the status quo, and our people deserve to live their lives without the fear of war again, at least for a while.”
He watched me from the corner of his eye, still brushing down the horse. “I can no longer use my magic, Bria. I’m not sure why Everleigh suggested such a thing.”
“Oh, come on, Myles.” Everleigh spoke from over my shoulder. She pulled her cloak tight around herself even though the day wasn’t cold. “You know exactly why I suggested it.”
Father turned slowly to meet the older woman’s gaze. “I can no longer do the thing of which you speak.”
Everleigh raised one shoulder. “Of course you can.”
He shook his head, on and on, for so long it seemed he might never stop. “No … magic broken.”
I stared at him. He was speaking the same way he had when we rescued him from Unseelie. Slowly, and like he was someone else completely. “Father, what are you talking about? Your magic isn’t broken.” I glanced at Everleigh. It unsettled me to see him this way.
Everleigh’s voice was stern. “Listen to your daughter, Myles. You have magic. You just refuse to use it.”
He shook his head again, fast. “No. Magic gone.” A tear rolled down one cheek.
“Myles, stop this!” Everleigh sounded like a schoolteacher.
It didn’t help. Another tear leaked from Father’s eye.
I stepped closer to him. “It’s okay, Father. It doesn’t matter.” I’d find another way. I didn’t want him to revert to how he had been after we rescued him because I pushed too hard for him to do something he wasn’t ready for. He’d never spoken about the time he spent under the spell at the Unseelie castle that made him forget who he was and where he came from, but I couldn’t imagine it had been pleasant.
“No, Bria,” said Everleigh, moving closer to Father. “Myles needs to do this. It will be good for him.”
He took a step back and bumped into the horse he’d been grooming. “I c-can’t do it. Bria will die. Bria always almost dies when I use my magic.”
Everleigh’s lips pursed so tightly they turned white. “Don’t be silly. Bria’s alive. She’s fine. Just look for yourself.”
I bent into his line of vision, touching his shoulder as I did. “I’m here, Father, and I’m fine. Just like Everleigh says.”
He blinked, his eyes clearing. “Yes, you’re here. Good. That’s good.” He turned back to the horse, the brush in his hand making circles over her body. At least he sounded like himself again.
“Myles.” Everleigh’s voice held a command and Father’s hand stilled. “Bria needs our help.” She cleared her throat. “Your queen needs our help.”
Father turned, glaring at Everleigh. “If she wants me to do the spell you’re asking, she wants to do something dangerous. If it goes wrong, it will be my fault for supplying her with the means to do such a thing.” He was back to himself again, though there was a harder edge to his voice than usual.
Everleigh shook her head, her tone softening. “Would you have denied her mother for the same reason?”
“I wanted to.”
“Yet you didn’t.”
There was silence between them, the only noise the movement of the horses in their stalls. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do it, I’ll find another way.” I wouldn’t force him. Not after what he’d been through to keep me safe.
“I’ll do it.” He looked at Everleigh. “I will make sure no one in Unseelie recognizes you. But you have to promise you won’t get hurt. Or die.”
“I promise.” I didn’t intend to be there long enough for such a thing to happen.
THREE
We returned to Everleigh’s rooms and I listened to both Everleigh and Father talk about how best to make the spell work for me, as if Father’s outburst and return to his previous state hadn’t just happened.
They put the spell inside a decorative pin that I could wear hidden inside the bodice of my clothing. So long as the pin touched my skin, the spell would remain in place. Though apparently, making it happen wasn’t as simple as waving a hand in the same way Jax created his glamours. Father needed time to weave the spell that would bind the pin to me, and then more time to weave another spell that would ensure the pin against my skin made my appearance change.
<
br /> While he worked, Everleigh brushed my hair and sent an attendant off to gather up a pale-yellow ball dress, as well as a deep blue one from my closet—she would decide which I would wear once my hair was done. She magicked me up an invitation, too, so I could get through the ballroom doors.
I drew in a breath. Going to Unseelie wasn’t without risk. “Everleigh, if something goes wrong tonight, you, Selina and Father must take care of the kingdom until I return. If anyone asks where I am, tell them I had to return to Iadrun to visit a dying friend.” If Fergus learned of my presence in Unseelie and took exception to it, I didn’t think he’d kill me, though he was within his rights to do so, especially because I was there in disguise. More likely, he would lock me up for a period to send the message that he didn’t take well to being tricked.
Everleigh gave a nervous laugh. “Nothing’s going to go wrong.”
I shrugged. “I agree. I will be fine and will return to Seelie at the end of the evening. But, it wouldn’t do to have no plan in place. Just in case.” I glanced at Father, prepared for him to argue with me going, but he kept his head down over his work, pretending not to listen. “Selina can make decisions on my behalf. She’s done so plenty of times before. You and Father can take care of almost everything else.”
“We can. And we’d be honored to.” She smiled. “And should you decide to stay with your prince, we can handle that too.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not staying, Everleigh. I don’t intend to get close enough to Fergus to even speak with him. And, I already told you, he’s not my prince.”
She lifted her shoulders, a look I couldn’t decipher on her face. “I’m only making sure you have options.”
I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me or not, and I didn’t want to find out, so I clamped my mouth shut. There was no way I would choose to stay in Unseelie.
I watched Father, bent over the little pin sitting upon Everleigh’s table, his face creased with concentration. “You’ve done this before.”
He nodded. “For your mother. To sneak her out of the castle. If her father had caught her, I can’t imagine what he’d have done to us both.”
“Where was she going?” I knew so little about their lives before they took me from Faery that I asked questions at every opportunity I was given.
“To visit me. Or Indira.” His voice was distracted, like he wasn’t really listening to himself as he spoke, and was instead concentrating on the task in front of him.
“I thought she could come and go as she wished, so long as her chores were done.” That was what Everleigh had once said.
“She could while her lodging was beneath the castle. Once her father reinstated her to her old rooms up on the top floor, she was expected to act like a princess again.” He glanced up at me. “You know what that’s like. No matter where you go, someone always wants something from you. You’re always supposed to smile, never have a hair out of place. Sometimes she just wanted to be … normal.”
“So you made her a pin?” I placed a hand on my heart. That was so sweet.
He nodded, a rare but genuine smile creasing his face. “I liked to see your mother happy.”
Everleigh pushed my clip—my intensifier—into my hair. Three smaller hair pins rested between her lips. She spoke around them. “It kept your mother sane, living with Rhiannon and her mother. But make no mistake, child, pretending to be someone else is dangerous. People don’t like to be tricked.”
I knew that. “I understand, but I’ll only be in Unseelie for an hour or two and no one will know I’m there. I’ll keep out of Jax’s way unless I’ve got something to tell him. Once he knows who is hurting Fergus, he won’t be angry.” At least I hoped he wouldn’t, but I would not consider that now. I glanced back at Father, recalling again the things he’d said in the stables. “Why do you think using your magic will kill me?”
Father sighed and looked up from his work. The panic that had been on his face earlier was gone, but his eyes remained troubled. “I used my magic at Lanwick Island and a water wraith almost dragged you into the ocean. Before that, I used it the day the Wild Hunt found me in Iadrun. Had I not reached our home when I did, they would have found you and your mother and killed you. Or worse. Bad things happen when I use my magic.”
I shook my head. “Father, neither of those things were your fault.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.” He held out the pin to Everleigh. “It’s done. Jax Sunfall will see through the spell, but no one else will.”
“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled. It would be a bad look if the Seelie Queen turned up tonight uninvited.
He puffed his chest out. “Your mother used to use my spells to get out of the Seelie castle. Past Rhiannon.” He lifted his eyebrows.
“Point taken.” Rhiannon had seen through almost all the same glamours as Jax. If Father’s spells had been good enough to stop her from seeing through them, then it was likely he was right and only Jax would know who I was. “Thank you.”
Everleigh took the garment pin from Father and pinned it to the bodice of the blue evening dress.
“I’m needed back in the stables,” he said. “Be very careful. If you don’t return because of this, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I nodded. “I’ll be back before you even know I’ve gone.”
My heart was in my stomach as I sat in the carriage that rolled toward the Unseelie Castle entrance. I looked nothing like myself. My dark brown hair was now silvery blonde, my eyes green, and my smile belonged to someone else. The biggest change, though, were my ears. Usually deformed and ugly, Father had given me the choice; human ears or fae ears. I hadn’t even thought twice before choosing human ones. I’d wanted normal ears all my life. Even after more than a year in Faery, normal to me was still human. In the mirror, I couldn’t recognize myself. Fergus, should he see me, wouldn’t either.
I’d ridden most of the way here across the sky upon Raven’s back, but close to the castle I’d brought her down onto the ground, pulled out the tiny snowball pumpkin Everleigh had sent me with, and placed it upon the ground behind the horse. The moment it touched the dirt, it transformed into a white carriage, which Raven—to her disgust, shown by the way she stomped her feet—had pulled the rest of the way to the Unseelie Castle.
A footman opened the door as we drew to a stop. I was purposefully late. I hadn’t wanted to risk anyone seeing the carriage appear out of the pumpkin. The footman held out a gloved hand. “Welcome, lady.” His voice was deep and warm, and it eased some of the worry for Fergus that had settled in my stomach. “Do you have your invitation?”
I nodded and pulled the card from the little purse I was carrying.
The footman took it from my hand, read it, and nodded. “We’ve been expecting you.”
On second thought, perhaps that worry had gone nowhere. “Oh, you have?”
His smile widened. “Why, of course.” He waited while I climbed from the carriage. “Now, if you’d follow me, I’ll take you inside.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I knew the way to the ballroom, but then I remembered I didn’t. I wasn’t Briony Ridgewing at the moment. If anyone asked, I was Miss Amber Thornlea, and I’d travelled from Iadrun to watch my cousin take part in the Declaration.
Rather than lead me in through the main doors straight into the ballroom, I followed the footman along a hallway to the right of those doors and climbed a flight of stairs. I clamped down on my tongue to keep from asking where we were going. Amber Thornlea didn’t know we weren’t heading for the main entrance to the ballroom.
My apprehension eased as we drew closer to a set of double doors and I heard voices. Perhaps Fergus wasn’t using the ballroom tonight. Or maybe, like me, he’d changed the way he used some rooms in the castle because of the memories they invoked.
The footman gave me a smile, then threw open the doors. “Miss Amber Thornlea. From Iadrun,” he announced and stood aside, nodding for me to enter.<
br />
I walked into a room that clearly was not the ballroom. It was small and well lit. Couches were scattered around it, and there were two other doors leading away from the room. There were about forty people here. All women. All dressed in their best, most elegant, most bejeweled dresses, the opposite of last night’s plain cornflower blue outfits.
All hoping to catch a prince for a husband.
This was a holding room. From here, the contestants would be officially presented to the Unseelie Court and to Fergus. I thought I’d arrived late enough that this would have taken place by now. I glanced back at the footman, already closing the doors. “There’s been a mistake.”
His eyebrows lifted, and he glanced at the invitation he was still holding. “I don’t think so.” He held it up for me to see.
My heart sank, and I moved closer to make sure I was seeing it correctly. It was an invitation to join the Declaration. As a contestant. I could have sworn it didn’t say that when Everleigh handed it to me.
Should I insist there had been a mistake? Tell him I shouldn’t be here with these women? Or did I pretend I belonged in this room? I could check all the women while they were in one small space, and then sneak away once I had my answers. Maybe this would work out for the best.
“It’s okay.” The footman gave me a smile, sensing my indecision. “You’re going to do fine.”
I nodded because he was right. I wasn’t taking part in the Declaration, but this was exactly where I needed to be. The footman backed out the door.
An older woman stopped in front of me. Her purple hair towered so far above her head I doubted her arms were long enough to reach the top. She carried a clipboard and had a pencil in one hand and another behind a pointed ear. “Name?” she barked as if she hadn’t heard the footman’s announcement.
Around the room, women stood in twos and threes, whispering. I had the feeling they all had one ear on our conversation, too. Checking out their competition, no doubt.
Kingdom of Future's Hope (Royals of Faery Book 4) Page 4