Kingdom of Future's Hope (Royals of Faery Book 4)

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Kingdom of Future's Hope (Royals of Faery Book 4) Page 9

by Hayley Osborn


  Piper’s smile grew. “Have you now?” It didn’t sound like a question. She buried one hand deep amongst her skirts. “Have you heard anything about what happens tomorrow?” The question was conversational, like she expected I might share some secret with her.

  I shook my head. “I imagine they’ll tell us when they’re ready to tell us.”

  She nodded. “I guess so.” She looked to be standing awkwardly, and she stared at me without speaking.

  I frowned. “Was there something else you needed?” I just wanted to get into my rooms and climb into bed.

  “I don’t think so.” She turned and started down the corridor, beckoning with her head to her friends. They followed behind, the two of them giggling into their hands as Piper’s voice rang sweetly through the air. “See you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I mumbled, opening the door.

  I changed into my nightdress and sat brushing my hair as I thought over the past few hours. The conversation with Piper was weird, but after spending time with Jax, I couldn’t stop thinking about Fergus and the space he’d designed to remember the people we lost in the battle with Rhiannon. I had never once considered doing such a thing, even though Seelie had lost plenty of people in that battle. Fergus was far more caring than I’d ever be. I would never understand why Fergus’ father didn’t see those parts of his son. Or perhaps he had and considered them a weakness.

  As I brushed out my hair in front of the mirror, the piece of black glass sitting within arm’s reach seemed to glow. I looked away. I would not spy on Fergus. That was exactly how I’d ended up here in Unseelie in the first place.

  Yet my arm reached out and picked it up anyway, and before I could blink, I was looking at Fergus, dressed head-to-toe in black, his shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms. His hair was loose and blowing about his face and though he was smiling, he didn’t fool me. I’d seen the tension around his lips enough to know he wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed. He stood outside the maze, tiny lights scattered over the trees behind him, casting their glow so he could see. He extended his elbow, drawing my eyes from him to the woman walking beside him—Piper’s friend Kaylor. She must have gone to meet him as soon as they’d left my door. Kaylor slipped her hand into the crook of Fergus’ arm as they walked.

  A stab of something I couldn’t name shot through me. No. That was a lie. I could name it. I just didn’t want to admit the jealousy surging through my veins. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Or perhaps I should. I had no clue what I should expect now the bond was gone. All I knew was that I had to push that feeling down deep where no one else could see it. Fergus and I were over, and no one was happier about that than me.

  Fergus threw his head back and laughed at something Kaylor said.

  I slammed the glass back onto the dresser, face down. I had enough to worry about without concerning myself with his new bride. Whoever she might be.

  I wished I’d never picked up the glass.

  I woke early the following morning when three Unseelie fae entered my room and ripped open my curtains. One of them laid a pale lilac dress on the vacant side of the bed, while another pushed aside the items on my dressing table and began laying out brushes, makeup, and combs. The third ripped back my sheets, then clapped her hands twice in the same manner my school teacher in Iadrun had once done.

  “Get up! You must be ready to leave inside the hour and you’re not even out of bed.”

  The fae at the dresser shook her head, and her words sounded like a scalding. “She won’t have time to bathe, Sapphire.”

  The third screwed up her nose.

  I sat, pulling the sheet up with me. “Excuse me, but why are you all barging into my room at this early hour?”

  Sapphire let out a deep sigh. “Because it’s competition day. Surely, even a human can comprehend such a thing.”

  I bristled, my back straightening. “Of course my poor human brain can understand—I could hardly forget such a thing. My problem is that no one bothered to tell me what time I must be ready, or what is expected of me today.” Surely Jax could at least have warned me of the early start.

  “Details were left pinned to your door while you were at dinner last night.”

  I shook my head. “No. They weren’t.” There had been nothing of the sort pinned to my door when I returned from speaking with Jax.

  Sapphire lifted her chin. “They were. I delivered it myself.”

  My stomach sank. “Pinned, you say? Could someone else have removed it from my door?”

  “Of course. It was just a piece of paper.” Her chin rose even higher. “But there is no reason for anyone to do such a thing. The same list of instructions was provided to each competitor.”

  But there was a reason. If, say, someone felt threatened by the girl who had jumped the queue and taken the first dance with the prince. I should have known Piper wasn’t hanging around outside my room on a social call. “What happens if I’m not ready in time?” The lilac dress lying on the bed was covered in a layer of silver organza and beaded around the hem. The skirt was wide and came with layers and layers of petticoats. Whatever was happening today appeared to be a formal occasion. And those took more than a few minutes to prepare for.

  Sapphire’s brow furrowed, as if she couldn’t believe what I was asking. “Why, you won’t look your best for the prince.”

  I gritted my teeth against their snobbery toward humans. It would do me no good to call them out on it.

  “He will not choose you to remain in the competition if you smell like the floor of the stables because you didn’t get up early enough to bathe.” The fae who’d carried the dress up shook her head.

  I might not want him to choose me, but I’d thought about what Jax said and didn’t want him to send me home yet, either. Not until I found out who was trying to poison him. “Let’s assume for a moment that I don’t stink like the floor of the stables—”

  Sapphire sniffed and wrinkled her nose.

  I ignored her. I’d bathed before bed last night. I couldn’t smell as bad as she was making out. “—how long do I have to get ready?”

  “Less time than you require.”

  I suppressed a sigh and gave her a tight smile. “Best we make a start, then.”

  Sapphire’s apprehension about how much time we had was justified. I reached the common room just as the rest of the girls were filing back out the door. Jax, standing inside the room, caught my eye and raised his eyebrows. He’d thought I wouldn’t make it. Or perhaps that I’d chosen not to come.

  I joined the end of the line. All of us were dressed in the same hue of lilac today—though the style of each of our dresses remained individual—and each of us currently wore a cloak against the cold. Apparently, today wasn’t about how we looked, but how we spoke. Though they’d spent so much time on my hair and makeup, I wasn’t sure I agreed. And that was as much as I currently knew.

  We filed down to the ballroom, where we were split into three groups. Jasmine was in my group—thank goodness for a friendly face. And, lucky me, I also had Piper, Essie, her friend, and Samara, one of the human girls.

  With Phyllis leading, the first group entered the tunnels, their voices hushed and quickly disappeared to silence. “Where are we going?” I whispered to Jasmine. Her lilac dress was thin-strapped and fitting, with a deep slit up one side. It looked about a thousand times easier to move in than all my layers.

  She shook her head. “The Court of Darkness. There are three coaches taking us through the tunnels to get there. What are you like at public speaking?”

  I blinked. “That’s what we’re doing today? Giving a speech?” I’d never considered the challenge would be such an easy one.

  She nodded. “That’s what they said right before you arrived this morning. Apparently, a good queen needs to be able to speak to her people on short notice, and today we must tell them why we would make the best wife for the prince, and queen for the kingdom.”


  I let out my breath. That was a relief. Speaking in front of people didn’t bother me. Neither did speaking without notes, which seemed to be how today would go. I wasn’t going home because of this challenge.

  Phyllis called our group forward and herded us into the tunnel. We walked for a few minutes along the pathway before turning into another arm of the tunnel. Sitting in front of us was an open-aired carriage that seemed like a horse should pull it, but which had no horse in sight. There were seats for the five of us, and once we were all sitting, everything outside the carriage grew dark and we started to move.

  Samara squealed. “What’s happening?”

  “Oh, relax,” snarled Piper. “They don’t want us to know our way through the tunnels. Just pretend you’re riding in your daddy’s horse-drawn carriage with all the curtains closed.”

  The girl blinked, tears filling her eyes. “There’s no need to be so mean.”

  Piper shrugged. “There’s no need to be stupid, either, but here we are.”

  “Leave her alone, Piper. It was a valid question.” Not one I would have asked, but then, I wasn’t stressed about the challenge in front of us. But perhaps Samara was.

  “For an imbecile,” muttered Piper. She looked around with a smirk on her lips, like she was expecting laughter. All that came was a nervous giggle from Essie. Piper fixed me with a glare, which I ignored, glad when the carriage slowed and the surrounding darkness dimmed.

  Phyllis stood outside the carriage, purple hair pulled back into a bun and wearing a grey suit jacket and skirt—all business. Her lips were pursed, like we’d somehow taken longer to arrive than we should have, even though we weren’t in control of such a thing. “Hurry, hurry. You’re the last group to arrive and people are waiting.”

  I stepped out of the carriage last. By the time my feet were on the ground, the other four girls were looking around them, mouths gaping.

  “Is this … Wildeguard?” asked Essie.

  I already knew the answer to that. I’d been to the enormous cave that housed the main village in the Court of Darkness twice before. Today was my third visit, though I’d never been to this part. A creek tinkled past on one side, right next to the moss-covered wall of the enormous cavern. Across the narrow road was a large community hall with groups of people standing out front. They held up signs, asking for food or gold.

  Phyllis stared at them, and her shoulders stiffened. “Come now, girls. You will complete your challenge in the community hall. Please don’t stop and talk on the way. We are short on time.” She started toward the group of fae. When she reached them, she continued walking at the same speed, without making a move to go around them. The fae stumbled back, their chants momentarily forgotten.

  The rest of us followed, Jasmine and I at the back.

  Bright sunlight rested high on the cave wall as the early morning sun came through the skylight. Wildeguard was still a quiet village compared to others I’d seen, but it was busier than it had been the first time I visited. I wondered if Dora was here somewhere, or if she was already in Iadrun.

  “Miss Amber?” A woman’s voice made me look at the fae beside us. There weren’t many of them, and their clothes were old and tattered, something I rarely saw on this side of the Faery/Iadrun border.

  I nodded.

  She reached out and took hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I just wanted to wish you the best of luck and tell you I’m a huge fan of yours.”

  I smiled tightly, hoping to hide my confusion. “But you don’t know me.”

  “We all saw you at the last challenge. On the black glass. And how the prince danced with you first.” She hugged her spare hand to her chest. “I bet you’ve had a romantic date with him since. Please say you have.”

  My smile loosened. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. Our date wasn’t the most romantic.”

  Her grip on my hand increased, even as I made to leave. “Oh, pity.” She shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter. The prince has good taste. I just know he’s going to choose the most special place to take you soon.”

  I nodded and pulled against her grip. If there was one thing I’d learned since becoming queen, since coming to Faery actually, it was that it was best not to anger anyone without good reason, and I had the feeling that this woman was no exception. “Thank you for such kind words. Now I really must be going.” I glanced at the door ahead of me, where Jasmine was already disappearing inside. The rest of the girls were well in front of her.

  The woman nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. But before you do, could you sign my…” She looked around for something I might sign, then reached across and took the placard of the man beside her. “My placard?”

  I chewed on my lip, aware that I needed to leave, but also knowing this would take only a few seconds longer. “Certainly.” She held out a pen. When I was done, I said, “Have a lovely day.”

  She moved in front of me, her smile huge. “Thank you.” So fast, I wasn’t prepared, she wrapped me in a hug.

  As she hugged me, she looked over her shoulder in the direction of the door. Something wasn’t right. I pulled away, but her grip was tight. “Please let go of me.”

  She waited a fraction longer. “Of course.” She stepped away. “Good luck, Amber!” Her voice took on a fake happy timbre, and I followed the direction of her gaze.

  Piper was framed by the door to the community hall. She nodded at the girl, smirked at me, and slammed the door shut. The unmistakable sound of a lock turning came from the other side.

  SEVEN

  “No! Wait!” I ran to the door, already knowing I wouldn’t get in. The handle didn’t turn, the door didn’t even rattle on its hinges as I shook it. “Help!” I banged my fist against it, but it was so dense, my fist barely made any noise. “Let me in!”

  The door remained firmly shut.

  I cursed silently and turned on my heel. There had to be another entrance, even if it was the one the guests used. There was no chance I was bowing out of this contest quietly, not now that I had my suspicions of who might be attempting to hurt Fergus. Perhaps the same person who’d just locked me out.

  Most of the group we’d walked through as we entered were now leaving, and the street beyond was empty, too.

  “Fae’s breath.” The curse came out as a whisper as I looked along the street, trying to work out which direction I should go to find the back of the building. The door was in the middle of a white wall that had no other entrance on this side, only high windows, all of which were closed.

  “You shouldn’t speak that way.” The voice of a child drifted up to me.

  I looked down to find two children staring at me with big eyes. Between them they held a sign, carefully written in what looked to be their handwriting, asking for food rather than gold. “You’re quite right. I shouldn’t. And I apologize.”

  “This is the only entrance.” The younger of the two—a boy—nodded at the door I’d been hitting with my fists.

  “Are you sure?” That seemed a little unsafe to me. Not to mention inconvenient.

  He nodded.

  I bit down on the curse that wanted to slip from my mouth. I would not curse in front of them a second time.

  “I know another way in.” His gaze traveled down my body, taking in the layers of skirts I was wearing. “Though I’m not sure you’ll be able to use it.”

  He was wrong about that. “I will. I have to get in there. Can you show me?” I slipped my hand into my cloak pocket, hoping I’d left a coin in there. All I found was the ball Jax had left with me last night. “I can’t pay you right now, but I will find you some food after.”

  The other child stepped closer. Her hair was matted and her face dirty. “That’s okay. You don’t need to pay us. We’ll help you, anyway.” She slipped her hand into mine. “It’s this way. Your ears are funny. Are you from Iadrun?”

  I stopped and crouched next to her. “I am.” A few strands of hair still covered my ears, even though
my hair had been pulled back into a rose shaped bun. “Did you want a closer look?” I imagined children of Faery were as fascinated with the differing looks of human’s as human children were with the fae.

  Both children nodded, eyes wide.

  The little girl dropped my hand and reached out, brushing the tips of her finger over my ear. “They’re beautiful.”

  I smiled. There weren’t many who thought like her in Faery. “Thank you. So are yours.” I got to my feet, and they led me to the end of the block. “Where are your parents?” I assumed the children were with the people who’d so suddenly disappeared earlier.

  The girl shook her head. “They died.” We took a left turn.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. They were too young to be left on their own.

  Another left turn brought us to an alley that led to the back end of the community hall. The alley was narrow and littered with rubbish. There was a back entrance to the building, but it hadn’t been used in a long time, if the old crates and piles of rubbish stacked in front of it were any indication.

  The boy pointed. “See up there.”

  I looked where he was pointing to find a window, too small to climb through in the bulky dress I was wearing. Its size was the least of my worries. The window was much too high to reach. I let out a sigh. “I can’t get in there.”

  “It is the only way,” said the boy.

  I stared at him. “If I lifted you up there, would you go inside and open the door for me?”

  The little girl dropped my hand and jumped between us, her face twisting in sudden anger. “No!”

  I took a step back, surprised by her vehemence. They’d been so helpful until now.

  She didn’t give me time to question her, grabbing the boy’s hand. She glared at me as she spoke, sounding much older than the twelve years she seemed to be. “If he gets into trouble, they will take him away from me, split us up.” She shook her head. “No. I won’t let it happen. Not for you. Not for anyone!” She started back along the alley, dragging the boy with her.

 

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