Telophy

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Telophy Page 9

by Wanda Wiltshire


  Olette was staring at her hands folded together on the table. ‘She was living with a man called Andrew,’ she said, looking up again. ‘Her human father. His wife had died some time earlier. They’d been unable to have children and so adopted Leinori, giving her the name Ruby. Andrew told me that until she turned eighteen her condition had been manageable, but after …’ Olette released a long sigh. ‘He had no answer for how quickly she began to deteriorate.’

  She took a sip of tea before continuing. ‘I took charge of the situation immediately, inventing excuses to visit Earth to take her what she needed, altering my looks and changing my name so she would think me different people. It was only in the last few years I let her know my true appearance and name.’

  ‘Was she content?’ King Telophy asked. ‘Did she find happiness? Peace? Love?’

  ‘My daughter was peace, My King. Even as an infant she had the ability to calm the storms in others. She made the best of her life in the human world. She had friends, made a career altering clothing from home. But she did not find love—nor did she settle for less. She had a few male friends over the years, but none who lasted once they wanted more. She would always say she was holding out for Mr Right.’ Olette caught King Telophy’s eyes. ‘I only wonder if she knew his name, My King … I wish I’d asked. I was often tempted, but why mention what could not be?’

  ‘She knew my name,’ King Telophy said quietly. ‘If you’d sought my help, I would have given it—betrothed or not.’

  ‘I came close. There was a new security after you took the kingdom and I thought perhaps it was time to make my daughter’s burden known. First, of course, I would have to make it known to her, and how could I without great cruelty? How could I tell her of all she’d lost? She appeared old—much older than a human of her years. I decided it was impossible. But as the years passed and the human world continued to take its toll I began to have a change of heart. Then Finelle came and told me she was in fear of you. She would not say why.’

  King Telophy dropped his face into his hands, groaning out loud.

  ‘I am sorry, My King,’ Olette said.

  ‘Please don’t be,’ he replied. ‘The shame is mine.’

  ‘No,’ Olette said with passion, ‘the shame is Charin’s and I will never forgive him.’

  ‘You said Finelle came to you,’ I said. ‘Does that mean you told her to leave me with Leinori?’

  ‘No, but when she and Tobias went missing, I suspected they may have gone to her.’

  ‘So they knew who she was?’

  She nodded. ‘Finelle and I were close. She promised to keep the information to herself.’

  ‘Did you ask Leinori if my parents had been to her?’ I asked.

  ‘It was the first thing I did when they went missing with their infants. Leinori told me she’d never met them. I believed her … I don’t know why she lied to me.’

  ‘She lied because they made her promise not to tell,’ I said, remembering the day I met Ruby. ‘They told her she was to tell no one they’d ever been. They said if she told anyone at all, their lives and mine would be in danger … I suppose they expected you to ask her.’

  ‘Of course,’ Olette said. ‘But if I’d known …’

  ‘How could you,’ the King said. He picked up the letter. ‘I’d like to take this.’

  ‘Please,’ she said, bowing her head.

  King Telophy stood. ‘We have been robbed Olette, your family and mine—the entire kingdom in fact. But none more than Leinori herself. She should have been immortal … She should have been Queen.’ He looked at me. ‘I see now the blood of our families was fated to come together. Everything I have failed to comprehend was due to this unrequited connection. My misunderstanding has caused me to make mistakes—terrible mistakes I mean to rectify as best I can, the moment my son is well.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  A few days after Ruby had been sung to the heavens, King Telophy requested I meet with him in his garden. I arrived to find him alone—not even a sentry guard in sight. As we strolled along the path he asked me how I was going with the care teams. I didn’t believe for a second it was the reason he’d sent for me. But I told him of my morning with Linden and Heath, of how pleased Linden had been with the King’s suggestion to be my personal guard for special events, and how together we’d taken his little boy flying and his wings had sprouted for the first time—cobalt blue, the cutest things.

  The King smiled and gestured to a seat by the pond. We sat down and I watched a dragonfly flitter around the fountain as I waited for King Telophy to tell me the real reason I was here. When eventually I turned to ask him, he was staring at the ground between his feet. ‘Marla, the very least I owe you is the story of your mother.’

  Immediately I was alert. More than ever, I’d been trying to think of a way to bring the subject up, but he’d been so distant since that day at Ruby’s, as though only half of him were present. Atara especially was feeling it. Not many knew the reason for the change in the King—just a few members of his family and Most High, me and Olette. My great-grandmother stressed she saw no reason to upset her surviving daughter.

  The King stood and released his wings. ‘Would you be comfortable coming with me to my chambers? I can speak freely there.’

  I’d glimpsed the King’s bedroom in Leif’s memories. I thought I’d see decadence, but had discovered instead golden light and floating curtains. His sitting room matched the bedroom perfectly.

  He held a hand to the chaise longue, and I sank into cream silk. He took the chair opposite and leaned forward to fill two goblets. ‘I had thought to tell you only of your parents,’ he started, sitting back and linking his fingers across his abdomen. ‘But I’ve decided to take you back further still.’

  My eyes widened. After all our history, the secrets and hostility, he was about to confide in me. Just like that. But I knew why. Despite everything, we had a connection, the King and I. He was the betrothed of my great-aunt, and I the betrothed of his son. A family connection, twice aborted. I picked up my drink, just for something to take my mind off the regret.

  ‘Even when I first experienced it, I knew the power I inherited was meant for good.’ King Telophy smiled faintly. ‘You might be pleased to learn that each time I’ve used it otherwise there has been a consequence … like a tiny death of a small piece of what is good in me.’

  The old me would have wondered how there was any good left, but now I could see it shining from him like sun.

  ‘I grew up privileged but alone. Every prince must, for although we don’t know our power until we become immortal, we are set apart.’

  ‘Set apart?’

  ‘Even the relationships we share with our parents must change once the transition to King occurs. We become separated by responsibilities to our subjects—and to find friends among them is almost impossible when they look upon us as King. Until I met Hilary, I believed it was impossible. She used to speak to me most bluntly. I remember the first time. I don’t recall what I said to warrant the reaction, but she told me she’d lost her entire family so there wasn’t one thing I could do or say to her that would even touch her.’ The King dropped his eyes to his hands. Before I could sink into sadness, I felt that strange sense of peace, and knew Hilary was right there with me; I only had to look to the side to see her.

  ‘When I was very young, I was honourable,’ the King continued, ‘and certain I would be a great king. As I travelled through Faera, meeting the subjects of each kingdom and witnessing the rule of my grandfathers, I pondered just how great I would be, confident I would not succumb to the vices of those before me. I was impatient for the chance to prove myself, but who knew when my kingdom would come? It might be hundreds of years and what was I to do in the meantime? I was beginning to suspect I had no betrothed to share my life with, to love and to have love from, to discuss deep things with as I’d seen others do. Add that to events beyond my control and I suppose it was no surprise I lost my way.’

&nbs
p; I was intrigued, and burned to ask him what happened. But I waited and he soon carried on.

  ‘After I became immortal, I learned the name of my betrothed and spent every day of the following months calling to her. I couldn’t understand why she would not answer. When I heard of the declining state of Mirren, I became worried she was among the lost of that kingdom.’

  ‘That must have been horrible.’

  He picked up his goblet and turned it in his hand. ‘I spent those early days wondering about her. Was she gentle or bold, timid or brave? Was she quiet and reserved or did she converse easily and laugh readily? Was she dark haired or light, slender or curvaceous? Each day I tortured myself with my imagination. After dark, I would search my dreams for clues. Sometimes I would find her in the bright sun, swimming in the lake or dancing on the plains, her arms stretched to the sky. Often I would find her tumbled beneath me in a tempest of heat. More often though, I would wake in a sweat after watching helplessly as she was pinned to the ground by a group of Shadow Fae who drew every drop of life from her body. But they were all just dreams. I never once felt close to connecting with her—not even in sleep.’

  Like I had with Leif. It had taken Leif more than a year to finally reach me with his mind. For the first time, I truly considered the effort on his part. Had he been tortured with his imagination like his father had? I shook the horrible thought away and King Telophy continued.

  ‘Then one day someone put an end to my dreaming—a female called Nilla. She was one of my chamber maidens and would come in the evening to prepare my bath. She would offer to wash me and occasionally I would allow it, just for the comfort of her hands on my skin. I was not one year immortal, she older still. Nilla had lost her betrothed, leaving her alone and available. She made that as clear as her desire for me. But I resisted her attempts to entice me, my thoughts still firmly fixed on my missing betrothed. Then one night I woke to the sensation of being caressed in the most intimate way. When I opened my eyes, Nilla stood some distance from me, so I could not be sure if I’d only been dreaming. In any case, she was the most enchanting of visions. She wore a white dress— long enough to brush the floor but crafted from fabric so sheer it foretold each curve. Her arms and shoulders glistened with coloa oil, and the scent of shaden flower rose from her skin.’ He stopped. ‘I find myself being much more frank with you than I’d intended.’

  Maybe I should have felt awkward, but his vulnerability took any of those feelings away. ‘I can take it.’

  ‘It is because you are easy to talk to … One of your gifts, and no doubt the reason you do so well with your care teams.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said with a smile. ‘But I’m curious, what happened with Nilla?’

  He pressed a finger to the centre of his chest. ‘She wore a locket here, decorated with a red stone. She asked me to open it.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Here is where I should have been alerted, for I was well accustomed to female attention, and well accustomed to keeping that attention in its place. But Nilla, in this moment, held me utterly captivated. I was unable to deny her, so yes, I did as she requested.’

  ‘What was inside?’

  ‘A tiny portrait of me, painted by Nilla herself. As soon as I saw it, I had to have her.’

  ‘You gave into her?’

  ‘I should not have. But a fire had started inside me, consuming all thoughts of anything else. After the first time, she was all I thought about. There was something calling me to her. That knowledge made me uncomfortable, but my desire overshadowed it. Before long, she started making demands of me—a special moment, a token, the promise she was my only, and soon, marriage. I knew my feelings for her were not love, but I was utterly obsessed and didn’t know how I could live without her. So, I approached my father who immediately demanded a meeting with her. In less than a minute he’d extracted a confession. Nilla had used dark magic to enchant me into wanting her. My father was furious. He demanded to be alone with his subject … I never saw Nilla again.’

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘When a faery wins a Dark Fae bargain, there are not many ways to break the enchantment. The first is resistance, of which my father considered me incapable; the second a replacement bargain; and the third—’

  ‘The death of either of the bargain makers,’ I finished in a whisper.

  King Telophy took a drink from his goblet. ‘Within a few days I no longer felt the effects of the dark magic. I no longer craved her.’

  A heavy sensation hung in the air before King Telophy carried on. ‘But my problems didn’t go away. Lust had awakened in me. I resisted for a while. Until one evening the maid Asline came to make ready my bed and bath. Her arms were full and I startled her. I went to help her pick up what she’d dropped, and then for the first time, and for utterly selfish reasons, I offered my hand.’

  ‘But she would have wanted that.’

  ‘Naturally, but I did it for me, not her.’

  ‘What difference does that make?’

  ‘There is a universe of difference. My power—every king’s power—is a gift to be shared. It does not belong to us. It is not even of us. Rather it is an essence we draw inside of us. Once within, we can use the power in any way we desire.’

  ‘To heal or comfort, to punish or reward,’ I said, remembering a conversation I’d had with Leif when I’d first come to Faera.

  ‘All of that and more—only think it and the power is transferred from me to whomever I wish. Most commonly, a king uses the power to infuse feelings of joy, thus connecting his subjects to him, or more accurately to something beyond him.’

  ‘But what is this power?’

  ‘Many believe it is the very breath of the Great Spirit.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I hope so, Marla.’

  So being a king didn’t guarantee faith. ‘And do you feel it when that power passes from you to another?’

  ‘No, a king only knows the sensation when the power is given to him by another king, or by his subjects when they swear allegiance to him, for every faery carries this essence inside—they just can’t use it in the same way as a king.’

  ‘You said subjects, but I don’t see males clamouring for your hand.’

  ‘Males too crave the power that runs through me, they are only more covert about how they receive it. On any day or night, five of my guard at least come to me in private.’

  ‘Leif never said.’

  ‘He is not King, he would not know. But let me continue my story. I was speaking of Asline.’

  I nodded.

  ‘With her, I did not use the power in any of the usual ways, and I did not use it for her benefit. I am ashamed to say I combined it with something of me—or more accurately something of the male in me. She went to her knees. And not out of reverence. I felt something die in me as she pressed against my legs. But I was so caught up in the sway I held over her that I did not care.’ A muscle tightened in his jaw. ‘I never called for Leinori again. Even if my betrothed lived still—which I was certain she did not—I no longer deserved her.’

  The King’s gaze was fixed on the floor. ‘That night I lay awake, filled with shame. I was the next Fae King. But what sort of king would I be?’ He drew a breath and let it out in a long sigh. ‘The problem with shame is that it provokes further wrongdoing. Before too long, desire unrewarded becomes craving. Asline left the castle soon after our indiscretion and later when I considered her feelings, I could only suppose she left because, like me, she was consumed with guilt. I avoided females in the castle after that, discovering the willing elsewhere. And soon I learned the use of my power was unnecessary—that I was Prince was enough.’

  ‘Being a king or prince in Faera must be a bit like being a movie star in the human world.’

  His eyebrows drew close. ‘A movie star?’

  ‘An famous actor. Sometimes people scream and cry and throw themselves at them—like they’re gods or something
. Faeries want you because of what you are, not who you are.’

  ‘A base reason, I know,’ he said with a nod. ‘But that did not stop me. One female after another I took, safe in the knowledge they could not become pregnant. If I made a female pregnant, I would have to take her as my wife. And I had no delusions I was capable of fidelity.’

  ‘I remember Leif saying something about this—the Prince must become King before he can make his wife pregnant, right?’

  ‘That’s correct, and in order to maintain balance, ancient law permits each king just one child. Within Faera, there are only so many kingdoms in need of kings. Anyway, none of this was of concern to me, so my bad behaviour continued for many years—until I was nothing but a shell, numb to the sordidness of my life and so addicted I thought of little else. Then one day my father came to me and told me it was time to claim my kingdom. Mirren had deserted and I was to go there immediately. I told him I could not, that I was unfit for the task. But he made it clear it was my duty. And so, I decided I would do the best I could while continuing my lifestyle. I was appalled by the state of the Kingdom of Mirren—so many deaths, so much heartbreak, so many injured and fading Fae. At once I began giving allegiance to my new subjects and by nightfall I’d made the kingdom mine. I cannot describe the joy my new subjects gave me. Each, in their moment of connection with me, became most cherished. Don’t misunderstand, I was an addict and still found females a temptation. But I made a point of wearing myself out day and night, and only my extreme busyness and utter exhaustion kept me sane. At last, the cravings dulled, and I started to regain my sense of honour. And although the old loneliness returned as I began to feel again, I was whole.’

  There was a pause as he refilled our goblets. ‘But my wariness of females had turned to fear, and among my grandparents I was a problem to be solved. After several years and still no sign of a Queen-to-be, my elders formed a committee to locate and bring to my attention every willing and available female in Faera. Many came, some with betrothed ones as yet unknown, ready to forsake them for the chance to become Queen. I rejected every one.’

 

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