by Shona Husk
He looked at her for a moment, shock on his face for a second before he masked it. He’d always been able to set his expression to unreadable very quickly. It wasn’t natural, but then again, he wasn’t human.
Felan took a few paces and turned to look at her, as if expecting her to fall into step like she once had. He’d always liked to be moving when having difficult conversations. Maybe that was a habit that came from being at Court—if he stopped too long, someone would overhear. She’d always suspected his life in Annwyn wasn’t easy, but he’d never shared the bad bits. If he wanted to be moving for this, it wasn’t going to be a nice, simple answer. Her heart sank a little. She’d wanted simple with a simple solution. She caught up with him and they started following the path that ran alongside the beach.
“They aren’t monsters. They are banished fairies.”
“Banished fairies? They don’t look like you.” Did all fairies look like him? Pretty, sharp, and sensual all in the same heartbeat.
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Greys are cut off from the Court, so they lose their looks as they slowly fade away to ugly nothing. It’s a slow death and our harshest punishment.”
Right, that explained why some were big and some were small, but all were ugly. “I thought it was being pregnant with a fairy child that made me see them, but it didn’t stop afterward.” She’d thought it would, had hoped it would, but instead it had become worse. “You didn’t send them as punishment for losing the baby?”
“No!” He looked aghast. “I never wished you ill. Mostly I just wished I’d been with you instead of in Annwyn.” He sounded so wretched about it that she began to realize that he was still coming to grips with the loss. How deep did his feelings for her run? It didn’t matter. She just wanted to be rid of the monsters.
“How can I stop seeing them?”
“You will always see Greys.”
She stopped walking. “What do you mean? I’m stuck seeing Greys for the rest of my life?” He’d never told her that would be a side effect of being pregnant. She didn’t want to always be watching where she looked in case she gave herself away.
Felan turned and looked at her. “When a human eats or drinks food from Annwyn, it binds them to the Court as well as giving them the ability to see fairies.”
“I’ve always been able to see you.” When had he fed her food from Annwyn?
“Because I use magic to be seen while I am here.”
“Like now?”
He nodded and started walking again, and she followed. “The wine we celebrated with was from Annwyn. I was so sure we’d be together I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t realize seeing the Greys would scare you.”
It took a couple of steps for her to realize what he’d said. “You gave me wine from Annwyn, deliberately?”
“I thought we were going to be together. I wanted you to be able to see any threats, instead of letting them sneak around you.”
“You never told me that.” What a fool she’d been to ever trust him. She took a step away from him, certain he wasn’t back in her life just to catch up. Her grip on the flowers tightened. Should she have accepted them?
“I didn’t get around to it.” He smiled and his face softened for a moment. “We were too busy celebrating.”
And then he’d left and hadn’t come back until it was too late.
Felan stopped. “What fairies have you seen?”
“None recently. I stopped taking meds and learned to ignore them. When the monst…Greys believed I couldn’t see them, they stopped bugging me.”
“That’s good. Ignoring them is the best way to stay safe. Have you seen any Court fairies, pretty fairies?” His gaze slid across the people around them, never stopping, yet she knew he was taking in everything.
“Only a couple, mostly in a crowd—none since I moved to California. Why?” She shifted, suddenly concerned. The old fear of fairies and being viewed as delusional returned and gave her heart a squeeze. This wasn’t a normal conversation, and she’d spent years trying to be normal again. A few minutes with Felan and it all came undone.
“You knew every time I saw you it was a risk. That someone might follow me and try to use you against me. That hasn’t changed. If anything, things are more precarious.”
“And you decided now was a good time to drag your baggage to my door?”
“I wasn’t ready to come back sooner. This is all fresh for me. It hasn’t been years in Annwyn.”
She sighed and tried to remember how she’d felt only a year or so after their breakup, but it was a drug-induced haze. Part of her life had been absorbed into a place where time seemed to stand still and days bled into each other. While he might still be dealing with the fallout, she wasn’t. “I’ve moved on, Felan.”
“You’re with someone?” He stepped back as if surprised.
She was so tempted to lie and say yes so he would leave. But she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t lie to him. There’d been too many half-truths and misunderstandings. He’d been honest with her, and she had to be honest with him. The way they had been once…maybe. He’d lied, or at least left out the truth about the wine. What else had he misled her on?
“No, but I know you. I know that you come and go as you please, and I need more. I deserve more.” If he could promise to never leave, that he’d be there when she needed him, she’d be tempted to play with fire again—it was hard to let go of something that had felt so good when it was going well. Of course, when it all went wrong, it hurt far worse than anything she’d ever known.
“I have responsibilities—”
“Exactly.” Somewhere in her teenage heart, she’d once hoped that he’d give them all up for her. She knew now that was never going to happen.
“Annwyn comes first. It has to.” His voice was soft and sharp. She glimpsed the Prince and the man he was in Annwyn. There was no joy, only work. She had been his fun times, R and R in the mortal world.
“And that’s never going to change.” She turned around and walked away, half expecting him to follow and put up an argument, half hoping that he would. He was a mistake she’d happily make again.
Don’t look back. Just keep going.
Chapter 4
Felan watched her walk away. He took a step after her, then changed his mind and started back toward the cemetery where he’d crossed the veil. She was right. Annwyn was always going to come first; he didn’t have a choice about that. He blinked slowly and let the glamour go, invisible now to everyone except those who could see fairies, like changelings and people who’d tasted fairy food or wine.
Even though most people could not see him, they still avoided where he was, as if unconsciously sensing he was there.
Hearing the truth from Jacqui’s lips had only made him realize what he’d lost. No, not lost—thrown away because he’d been unable to see past his own pain. Talking to Jacqui had only reopened the wound. He wanted her the same way he always had. Time away hadn’t diminished that, but it had changed the way she felt about him.
He was no longer enough.
He was a virtually immortal fairy Prince, and she wanted more. He shook his head and tried not to let the bitter laugh escape. He could give her a life beyond the mortal world, one that would last for centuries, and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because he’d never directly explained what he could offer her. She could have a life few even dreamed of, and she’d live for centuries with him as they ruled Annwyn. He’d just assumed, once she knew he was fairy—and the Prince—that she also knew they would live in Annwyn.
But he’d never actually asked her to be his Queen. Perhaps he’d been a little afraid she’d say no—he still wasn’t ready to hear that response—nor had he ever stated exactly what would be required of her to save the mortal world. He’d just expected that because they were in love it would all fall in place.
Apparently
not. He kicked a soft drink can and watched as it scuttled down the sidewalk. And they weren’t in love anymore. They were someplace where love cast a long shadow but it hurt to step into the sun.
Any other woman would’ve jumped at the chance to take what he had, but not Jacqui. It was her refusal to grab the power being offered that kept drawing him back to her. Even if he didn’t still love her, that quality still made her an ideal candidate for Queen. She wouldn’t be corrupted by Court. That she still looked at him with more heat than she should if she were truly over him—and he was damn sure he hadn’t hidden his feelings very well—gave him hope that perhaps there was still some love.
He still didn’t know the answer to his problem. He could pursue her and hope their love grew back, risking making her unhappy for millennia, or find someone else and risk a cold, power-hungry bitch like his mother who would sacrifice her grandson in a heartbeat if she thought it would bring her more glory. After his mother had involved Caspian in her plot with her lover, and a subsequent attack on the woman who was now Hunter of Annwyn, he wasn’t bothering to try and defend her. Annwyn was safer with his mother locked up.
He really didn’t want to end up married to someone like her because he was in a rush—just like his father had been. Damn his father and his deadline. In the same breath, he knew his father didn’t have the strength to give him any more time. He wasn’t ready to lose his father.
A few blocks away from the shore, he reached the church and the cemetery. It was quieter here—the tourists and shoppers stayed close to the beach—and he was glad to put some distance between him and the ocean.
He buttoned up his knee-length waistcoat and made sure his clothing was neat. Then he ran his fingers through his hair and hoped he looked calm, as if he hadn’t been anywhere interesting. At least he could use monitoring the tearing veil as an excuse to spend more time away from Annwyn.
Just before the threshold, he hesitated. His skin was still warm from the California sunshine, but he could feel the chill of Annwyn in his blood. Even before he was fully across, the cold was crawling over his skin and sucking away the heat.
This was why Annwyn had to come first.
Through the doorway, the ground was crisp with frost. The grass was virtually dead; the field where people had once played boule and watched the doorway was now more like a muddy paddock with frost rimming the edges of the puddles. The trees were bare, all but the last few leaves had fallen, and there were no new buds. His breath clouded in front of him as he walked. It wouldn’t be long until snow not only fell but settled.
The castle was grim, a skeletal reminder of the summer days now past. The Court had just celebrated the midsummer festival. They’d danced and ignored the falling leaves. The festivals were tied to the mortal world, while the seasons of Annwyn were tied to the King and Queen. With the Queen imprisoned, things were getting cold fast. Felan was almost missing California, ocean and all.
He walked into the castle. Where once the ground had been a lush carpet of grass that always sprung back, it was now mud churned up from being walked on. In the main hall, people were dining and dancing as if nothing was wrong, but the hems of their dresses and cloaks were now edged with dirt, not gold or silver.
They chose to ignore the failing magic and carry on playing, hoping the problem would get solved. Some were on his side; others were on Sulia’s. Some were hedging their bets and watching both sides while committing to none. Those were the ones he really needed to watch.
“So glad you could join us.” Sulia stood, a glass goblet in her hand. The cut of her dress emphasized the gentle rounding of her stomach, revealing how she threatened the throne. She was not far along but enough that she looked like a sure thing to claim the throne; plus, she now had her human consort here. She’d snuck him across the veil while Felan had been away. He gritted his teeth but refused to let the tension show.
The man next to her stood and gave Felan a look mortals usually reserved for gum stuck to a shoe. Others at Sulia’s table turned to look at him, none of them with the slightest bit of respect. It was as if he were interloping on a private dinner.
Nice. Felan didn’t acknowledge the mortal.
The chill in the air thickened and settled around him like a wet, heavy wool blanket. Sulia was holding court—or at least pretending to. She had the man she wanted on the throne with her, a mortal willing to give up his soul to save Annwyn, and a child growing in her belly that would secure succession. It was no wonder that she was gaining supporters.
She was looking brave and strong while he was looking weak and afraid, as if he couldn’t protect his future Queen if he brought her here. To many that would be a sign that he wasn’t fit to rule. Yet Sulia had made no public declaration of her claim.
Felan carefully noted each fairy that was in the chamber and was relieved to find that the ones he considered loyal to him weren’t there. But that could’ve been because they were being careful. He didn’t know whom he could trust these days.
“Someone has to stop the veil from totally disintegrating.”
Sulia shrugged, her white-blond hair trailing over her shoulder in a long braid elaborately threaded with silver and gems. “What are a few less humans? There are billions of them. They won’t miss a few.”
Her Court laughed as if she was making a joke.
“I’m sure all mothers miss their children, and children miss their mothers.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall made of a tree, trying to look as relaxed as ever.
Her hand brushed her stomach and she smiled, as if she didn’t care what he thought. He knew her goal, just not how she planned to achieve it or when. He really needed to act first and cut her off before she could finish what she’d started. That meant he had less than two weeks.
When the fairies looked at her, did they see the Queen they wanted to rule them? Or simply a return to spring and summer? Probably both. They knew Sulia would continue with the parties and gambling and deal making that his mother had encouraged. It was familiar, and Felan wanted change—not that he’d said it in as many words. After all, to most, he was nothing but the wastrel Prince. A part he had played too well.
Sulia walked toward him, her red dress trailing in the mud and a cruel smile pasted on her lips. “You haven’t brought your beloved to Court?” She trailed her fingers over his chest, but he kept his face a perfect mask. He was used to hiding everything at Court.
“Why would I bring her so soon?” He caught her hand and kissed her fingers.
“So we can judge her worth.”
“My choice of consort is of no one’s concern but mine.”
“Or maybe you don’t have one.” She plucked her fingers free and grinned at him.
That was what everyone thought. And they’d be right. But he didn’t need to let anyone know that. He would have someone before the two weeks were up. Sulia would be taking the throne only after she’d drowned him in the river of damned souls.
“I value her safety. I know our history, Sulia, even if you don’t. Human consorts have been murdered before by rival factions.” His father and uncle had fought viciously for several years, killing many lovers in an effort to secure the throne. It was how his father had ended up with Eyra. She hadn’t been his first choice, or even his second, but she had been there and she knew how to rule, and at the time, that had been important.
Sulia’s back stiffed and she half turned. “Do you not trust me?”
“I’m the Crown Prince of Annwyn.” He paused and let the words sink in. Let her supporters think again about who they were backing. But perhaps they didn’t have a choice. Many of them would’ve made deals and promises, and wound up trapped and on the wrong side. “I don’t trust anyone.”
Sulia tossed her head. “You are too much like your father.” It was aimed as an insult, and to many it would be. They saw Gwyn as a King who’d let his wife control every
thing, when, in fact, he’d been mitigating any damage Eyra would do for well over a human millennia. Now Gwyn was old and tired.
“And you are too much like my mother.” Now that was an insult.
“I know how to run the Court. I have broken no rules.”
Yet.
“Let’s keep it that way. I’d hate to send the Hunter after you.”
She laughed, and it echoed in the cold hall. “That little chit barely knows which end of the sword to hold.”
That may have been true at the start, but Taryn merch Arlea was doing everything a good Hunter should, including supporting King and Prince. She’d quite happily stick the blunt end of the sword through Sulia too if she thought it would get her back to the mortal world faster. The love that Taryn and Verden had was what he wanted. Not even Verden’s banishment had touched it. It was possible for a fairy to love and be loved so deeply they forgot about status and deals and the things that most Court fairies considered important.
If Sulia ever caught on to the half-truths Felan was telling, there would be trouble. He couldn’t appear to be lying or no one would trust him. He trusted Taryn, Verden, Dylis, and Bramwel, and also Caspian. That was five people, not enough to win the throne if it came to war. But it might be enough to steal it before Sulia sat on it and proclaimed herself Queen.
He’d still back himself in the battle for the throne—but not for much longer if he didn’t do something soon.
“You mock the Hunter?” Aside from the King, the Hunter held the most power and sway. Taryn, who was only doing the job until a new King, or Queen, sat on the throne, could arrest fairies if she thought they were committing treason. She was also spending a lot of time training with Verden and was far more dangerous with a sword than Sulia gave her credit for. Not that Sulia needed to know that.
Sulia rested her hand on the human’s shoulder. “No, just stating a fact.”
“I’d hate to think you were questioning my father’s choices—he is King after all.” Felan walked out of the hall before Sulia could think of a retort. He wanted her followers to question what they were doing and why. While he couldn’t free them from the deals they’d made, he could at least make them think about where they were placing their loyalty.