‘Being King is an illusory thing,’ he said. ‘Everyone you come into contact with reveres you. When I’m feeling excessively high with it, I try to remind myself that when my subjects leave me, they go back to their lives and seldom consider me—if at all.’
‘Unless they get caught by the Shadow Fae.’
‘But then their thoughts are of survival, not of me—which makes me what? Their servant.’
I thought of colours whirling towards him, blending in the air around him, faeries drawn to him as though he were a magnet. ‘You’re not only their protector, you’re their connector, you bring them together.’
‘Which still makes me their servant.’
‘You’re more than that.’
‘Why should I be? This is the role I was born with. I’ve done nothing to earn or deserve it. I didn’t even have a choice in it. And I didn’t create the power that flows through me either. I am a servant—no more or less than any other.’
‘That’s very humble but I don’t know that it’s true.’
‘I do know, and I’ve made a decision to remind myself often. The adulation is seductive, dangerous too. I only have to look at any one of my grandfathers to know it. Good kings all, beloved by their people. But prideful and arrogant. You saw that at the assembly. Up high they sat, filled with their own importance while they decided your fate based on their own experience, or more correctly, their lack of it.’
‘You noticed that too?’
‘I’m ashamed to say I barely considered it—not until you made me see how they set themselves above others. You told me I don’t do that. You told me I was different … I want to remain different. But it’s hardly being humble to make this conversation about me. My point is that it’s possible, as a king, to be so blinded by self-importance that you have this sense of people loving you when perhaps they do not.’
‘Why would anyone not love you?’ I could have given him a hundred reasons why his subjects loved him—a thousand.
‘I wasn’t really thinking of me,’ he said, interrupting the list I was making in my head. ‘I don’t think I’ve done anything to trouble anyone—yet. But my father has. You know of his past. He told me what he shared with you. How many people do you think he’s upset with his behaviour?’
‘If you’re talking about the faeries he’s been with, I’m pretty sure they wanted to be with him too.’
‘No doubt. But later, when not in his presence, there may have been regret, admissions to husbands, broken trust and erosion of betrothal connections. My father’s behaviour was an abuse of his power and it would be foolish to imagine grudges have not been stored up against him. Marla, the dark magic you are experiencing may be the result of a vendetta against him.’
‘What does his past have to do with me?’
‘Nothing. But what better way to hurt a king than to hurt those closest to him? It’s not like anyone could punish him directly. Perhaps I am wrong, but I can think of no other reason for the dark magic than this.’
I thought of how furious Lysander had been with King Telophy, the way he’d vowed to get back at him. ‘I suppose it’s possible.’
‘Whatever the reason I intend to discover it. Not only has somebody been interfering with you personally, but they’ve been attempting to tamper with the future of my family.’ He peeled himself away from me and rose from the bed. ‘I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, Marla, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am to know of it. But will you excuse me now? I have some business to attend.’
‘Business?’ I said, sitting up. ‘Is it important?’
He touched the backs of his fingers to my cheek. ‘The most important.’
I smiled. ‘Then I suppose I’ll excuse you.’
He held my hand as we walked down the hall. I loved him. He knew it, and the whole way I willed him to stop, to acknowledge it, to just turn and kiss me and tell me he loved me too.
At the bottom of the stairs he told me he wouldn’t be at breakfast, nor would he be around for the rest of the day, but that he was looking forward to seeing me the next morning. Then he left me with a smile and no clue as to what he was thinking.
Leif left me with a dilemma. If Haigen hadn’t been the one to drip dark magic into my eyes, I had some serious bridge mending to do. Not that I was convinced of her innocence. But I had to admit— Leif knew her way better than I did. So instead of flying off to spend the day visiting faeries with a care team, I consulted the ledger to find out Haigen’s plans, altering my own daily notes to match what she’d recorded.
I found her in a meadow scattered with trees and dotted with wild flowers in every colour—the kind of golden, dappled place that always made me smile and wish I’d brought my paints. She was with a group of about thirty faeries, six or seven care teams combined. Standing at the back, I listened to Haigen updating them on new procedures—outlining particular successes and failures. It seemed such a technical subject for this dreamy place. But if there was one thing I’d learned about Haigen, it was that she was organised and orderly. She knew exactly what she wanted done and no sweetly pitched birdsong or honey-scented breeze could distract her. Which is why we’d decided this aspect of the job, rather than going out to visit individual Fae was a perfect match for her.
There were questions at the end, which Haigen took her time answering, then slowly the care teams began to drift away.
‘What do you want?’ she said, shoving notes into her bag when the last care team had left us alone. Her long dark hair swam down her shoulders and back, sleek as a river at midnight.
‘I spoke to Leif this morning.’
‘Did you?’ She waited, sapphire eyes glinting.
‘He told me you two aren’t getting married after all.’
‘You hadn’t figured that out yourself?’ Her mouth lifted into a sneer. ‘Don’t know him very well, do you?’
‘Well, you did kind of lead me to believe otherwise.’
‘Anything to keep you away from him.’
I sighed. ‘You care about him, I get it. I’m not good enough and all that. But … I’m glad he has such a loyal friend.’
‘Are you?’ The way her eyebrows climbed her forehead told me she didn’t believe it.
‘I am … I was insecure before, I admit that. You’re beautiful, and when Leif found me, I didn’t feel like I had much to offer.’
She frowned. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘I don’t know … growing up in the human world I suppose. It doesn’t matter now. But can you honestly tell me you didn’t do anything to make my insecurity worse?’ It was the closest I could get to suggesting the dark magic.
‘I might have felt a bit threatened,’ she confessed—grudgingly. ‘Perhaps I attempted to make you feel likewise. But only because I was worried he’d have no time for me.’
I recalled all her flirting during those early days, the overfriendly hugs and fluttering eyelashes. Leif had sucked it all up, happily oblivious. I wondered when her behaviour had changed. After Classin died I realised. Since that time Haigen had been consistently moody, whether Leif was around or not. ‘I meant apart from that.’
She frowned. ‘I have no clue what you speak of.’
‘If that’s true, then I’m sorry for blaming you.’ I tried to add what for but it was impossible.
She was looking at me as though I might be mad. ‘Marla, you’re not making sense.’
I wrinkled my nose. ‘If you’re telling the truth, I must seem crazy.’
‘You do seem crazy.’
‘All right, well, I should go anyway.’ I turned away, taking a deep breath before turning back again. ‘I’m sorry you’re hurting, Haigen … Classin was an amazing person.’
She lowered her eyes and watched the ground. ‘It’s been hard to watch you be so fickle and stupid with Leif. It angers me. If you only knew how he was when he couldn’t find you …’ She looked up again. ‘You had everything and just threw it away.’
A lump came to my t
hroat. If Haigen knew about the dark magic, she’d know the reasons for my choices. I still didn’t know whether or not she was being truthful, so I said, ‘Speak to Leif … Maybe he can help you understand.’
Chapter Thirty-nine
I went to bed early, tossing and turning and falling asleep eventually, waking with the first sunbeams the next morning. I got straight out of bed and headed for the shower, using every fresh-smelling thing—body scrub pressed from the salt hills, shower cream made of creamy olanut oil and nectar-sweet hair wash. Leif had told me he would see me this morning. I sang in the shower and came out smelling like a garden, drying off and dressing quickly. Leif. I sighed his name. Just as I was about to head down to breakfast, Atara came to my room. I hadn’t seen her since before King Telophy left. She sat down on the edge of my bed and folded her hands together. ‘My son told me what you did for your former king.’
I pushed aside a fresh pang of guilt. ‘I wish he could’ve come home with me. I wish—’
‘Hush,’ Atara said, lifting a hand. ‘He lives and that’s what matters most.’
‘He gave me a message for you.’ I was reluctant to repeat it but knew I must. ‘He said … you should go to Bryn.’
Atara took the golden tiara from her long dark hair, ran a finger across the pale yellow stones. ‘Telophy gave me this before we wed … He told me I would always be his.’ She lifted it to my hair. ‘Now it is yours.’
‘You should keep it,’ I said, my heart sinking as I put my hands up to stop her.
‘It means not what you think,’ she said as she outmanoeuvred me and placed the tiara in my hair. ‘Telophy is my husband, and while that is true I won’t give up on him. He will return, I have no doubt, and when he does, he’ll find me waiting.’
My breath left me in a rush. ‘It makes me so happy to hear you say that.’
She smiled. ‘The tiara is a gift—from me to you. Wear it today.’
‘But I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Wear it regardless.’
As she left, she poked her head back in the doorway. ‘I almost forgot. Leif wanted me to tell you he would see you after breakfast. He has an important meeting, but will drop in on you beforehand.’
I decided to eat in my room.
Soon after I’d finished breakfast, Melody and Finelle turned up. ‘Your mother has made you a dress,’ Melody said, smiling beatifically. Finelle beamed as she held it up and I ran my fingers through the layers of sheer buttery cream. It was thigh length and low at the back and tiny yellow flowers dotted the bodice—each with a crystal at its centre.
‘It’s beautiful, but what’s it for?’
‘A birthday gift,’ Melody said. ‘Put it on.’
‘My birthday’s months away,’ I told her, but stepped out of the clothes I was wearing.
‘A before-birthday gift then.’ My grandmother took the dress from her daughter and put it over my head, straightening the straps with her fingers. ‘There.’
‘It matches your tiara perfectly,’ Finelle said. ‘But your hair is damp. Will you let me fix it for you?’
‘It seems a waste when I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Still, I would like it very well.’ Her eyes shone. ‘I’ve never done my … your hair before.’
She’d been going to say my daughter.
I agreed and sat down at my dressing table. She got busy, using a whole lot of sparkles and hot sunstones to create soft loose curls. And while she worked my grandmother painted my skin, tiny flowers on my arms to match those on my dress. ‘Isn’t this lovely?’ she said, smiling happily. ‘Isn’t this just how it should be? The three of us together.’
When she finished with the body paint, my grandmother rubbed moisturiser into my feet, smoothed sap on to the soles, dabbed my knees and elbows and wrists with fragrance. She waited for her daughter to finish, then they both stood back to admire.
‘You look like an angel,’ Finelle said, misty-eyed.
‘Like a princess,’ a deep voice said from the doorway. Leif. My heart reacted immediately.
He was wearing the uniform of his guard, a streak of dirt on his chest along with a new bruise and several welts. He twirled a single flower in his fingers. He came and handed it to me, touched the tiara. ‘This looks well on you.’
With trembling fingers, I lifted the flower to my nose. Delia—it smelled divine. When I’d first come to Faera, he’d picked a whole bunch for me. ‘Your mother gave it to me.’
‘It must be your day for gifts.’ His eyes travelled down. ‘A new dress too.’
‘Finelle made it.’
My Fae mother smiled at her king, hands clutched together before her.
Leif returned the smile before looking back to me. ‘It’s beautiful, but where are you going dressed so?’
I shrugged. ‘I’ll have to think of somewhere.’
‘What? No plans? That doesn’t seem right. Come out with me. There’s a place I’ve been wanting to revisit.’
‘What place?’
He touched my nose. ‘You’ll see.’
My cheeks warmed instantly. ‘I thought you had an important meeting.’
‘I do, but later.’ He must have noticed me staring at the dirt because he glanced down and ran a slow hand across his chest. ‘Give me a little while and I’ll come back for you.’
I nodded, my heart singing at the idea of spending the morning with him.
When Leif rejoined me, I thought I’d been carried to heaven on a ray of sun. He wore pants the colour of moonbeams—indecently, deliciously low, accentuating gleaming brown skin and that dark little trail that vanished inside. I tore my eyes away and pointed to his crown—gold and emeralds. ‘I think that one’s my favourite.’
‘You say that about all of them.’
‘Because they’re all my favourites.’
His smile stretched into a grin as he scooped me up. I squealed as my feet left the ground, laughing as I wound my arms around his neck.
‘Remember how I used to carry you, Marla?’
As if I could forget. I sighed a happy sigh. ‘Take me away, Leif.’ I turned my face into his neck, and went with him into the sun’s rays, the heat and pressure wrapping me close to him.
Chapter Forty
Leif caught the sun to Constantine, surprising me when he continued on to Earth, flying at lightning speed and arriving at the top of Bald Hill in a few short minutes.
‘What are we doing here?’
‘I’m feeling nostalgic.’ He set me on my feet and we strolled down the sloping grass to where the mountain started to fall away, the masses of long reeds insurance for the parents of the little kids running wild, arms spread wide as they played at being hang-gliders.
The sky was a vast sheet of blue, kissing the horizon far out to sea, and as I lost myself to it, I was overcome with that wonderful feeling—the one that always drew me here again and again. As though I were small and separate but at the same time part of some great mystery—something big and hopeful and I had only to break out of my skin for it all to become clear. Knowing this feeling was waiting for me was what drew me here after Hilary died, so I would not only feel close to her but be one with her as well—one with the whole universe. I wondered if Leif felt it too, realised with a jolt that although this place had long been a part of my world, it was actually he who’d brought me here the first time we’d come together. There was something magical about that—like a part of him had innately known this place was special to me.
My betrothed had chosen this place to help me find my wings. Together we’d tumbled through the sky far out to sea, chasing, laughing, kissing. Back when everything between us was new and shining and untested. Back before I knew of Haigen, or missing my human family, or of the dark things that lurked in the shadowy parts of Faera.
Shivering, I moved closer to him and he caught my hand in his. Some days this place was quiet, but today children squealed and licked ice-creams, and tourists took photos as paragliders rode the slipstrea
m in multi-colours. There were five at least, some high in the sky far out over the ocean, others tracing the cliff face. ‘Will you send them away like last time?’ I asked.
He sat down and patted the space beside him, waited for me to sit before leaning back on his elbows, the grassy slope the perfect angle to take in the view. ‘They’re nice to watch, don’t you think?’
‘I’ve always thought so.’
‘And this is a good place to talk.’
My eyes left the scene before me and went to him. ‘You want to talk?’
‘I’ve been thinking about the things you showed me … I want to make sure you know exactly what Haigen is to me.’
Nerves made knots of my stomach. ‘She’s a friend, right? A good friend.’
‘She is, and those times when I considered making her more, there were good reasons for it.’
‘I know.’
He caught my eyes fast with his. ‘I never did—make her more that is. I want you to know that. And I want you to know why.’
‘Leif, you don’t have to explain anything to me.’
‘But I do. I don’t want hidden things between us.’ His eyes were dark and intense. ‘You are my betrothed. I want to talk to you, I want you to talk to me. No secrets.’
It sounded perfect, and so intimate. ‘Tell me then.’
‘It’s to do with my father—his past. He never spoke to me of it—until after he confessed it to you that is. But at least ten of my grandfathers did. I remember the first time clearly. I’d not long turned fourteen and was spending some days in his parents’ kingdom. There are rock pools in the castle grounds and I was swimming with my grandfather when one of the maids came to speak to him. She was pretty and he must have noticed me looking because he told me to take care, that the last thing I wanted was to go the way of my father. When I asked him what he meant, he would only say that had his son been a more honourable prince, then he would surely be a much happier king—and perhaps with a little more patience he may have even found his betrothed. I was shocked and told him my father’s betrothed had passed. “But what if she has not?” was his reply. “What if he gave up too soon?” I don’t think my grandfather actually believed she was still alive. I think he only meant to warn me, plant a seed. And it worked, because a few years later when I called to you and you did not answer, I refused to give up. I learned your name soon after my eighteenth birthday, and for more than a year I called to you. Haigen had always been protective of me and we’d had a romance as you know—cuddles and kisses born of two children who grew up close.’
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