A Dance with the Fae Prince (Married to Magic)

by Elise Kova

  The rest of the meal goes smoothly. By the time Hol and Felda escort us to the door, I can honestly say I’ve enjoyed myself. Felda actually gives me a little squeeze before we depart.

  “It’s been a delight to meet you,” she says. “Hol has filled me in on some of your circumstances, more than he likely should, I admit.” Her mouth quirks into a mischievous grin. I see where Raph gets it from. “I know that coming here wasn’t part of your plan…but I’m glad Davien has you with him.”

  I glance over to where Davien and Hol are engaged in an intense, hushed conversation. They don’t seem to hear Felda’s soft words.

  “I’m not… I don’t know what you think. But—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” she says a little too quickly. Like I’m embarrassed and she’s doing me a favor. “It’s just nice to see someone with him. Hol and his other king’s knights have certainly tried their best. But they had their obligations here, keeping Dreamsong safe. They could never stay with him for long, either, because as you can see with Davien, we fae aren’t meant to live in your world. I can imagine how lonely it was with only Oren for company. Bless him, he’s a good man, but not the greatest conversationalist.” She laughs. I smirk as well. “From what Oren has said, it sounds like you two get on well.”

  Before I can say anything, the two men rejoin us.

  “We should return to the main hall,” Davien says. “The last thing we want is for Vena to need us for something and us not be available.”

  “Of course.” I nod. We bid our final farewells and return to the streets of Dreamsong.

  “I’m glad they’re doing so well,” he says after we’re far away from the house.

  “Were they not?” They seemed like an enviably normal family to me. More normal than what I ever thought possible, previously, for a family.

  “Their family’s ancestral home is in what is now the Bleeding Woods. Their Court of Leaves was led by one of the last blood survivors of Aviness,” he says with a somber note. I see his hands clench and the muscles in his jaw bulge. “The Butchers drove them out of their home well before Raph was even born.”

  Davien slows and shoves hands in the pockets of his loose-fitting trousers. He’s wearing a tunic that’s open low on his breastbone. The flat expanse of his chest is on display underneath a series of necklaces. He fits in so naturally here. There’s something to the air around him that just…belongs.

  I suppose that’s not what surprises me. What surprises me is how envious I am of it. It’s not the fae that I want to be a part of. I just want to belong. I want some people, some place, some time to be mine. I want to not be a castaway fighting for forgotten scraps on the floors underneath tables I’ll never have a seat at.

  To have a family. A table.

  “If you become king, will they get to go back to their home?” I ask softly. “Will they rebuild the Court of Leaves?”

  He meets my eyes, exposing the murky depths of his pain. So many things about this man are still a mystery to me. But rather than being frightened…I find myself more and more intrigued by the endless possibilities of them. I want to ask. I want to know. I want to peel back every layer of him as I feel him doing to me every time we’re together.

  What’s wrong with me?

  This endless push and pull between us threatens to rip me apart.

  “If—when I become king, these lands will once more belong to the people who made them. The courts may return to their ancestral homes or rebuild anew, whichever speaks more to who they are now.

  “I will see that the fae are strong again. That we have a seat at the table at Midscape’s Council of Kings. I will demand the lands the Elf King stole from us back and I will fight for the fae to return to the prominence we deserve. I will see every court rebuilt to keep the High Court in check, so that no king ever feels so powerful that he can act without accountability. I will use the power that’s trapped within the glass crown and the hill of the High Court to help my people however I am able for as long as I draw breath.”

  I stand in awe of him. The way he speaks is filled with conviction…and not because he’s practiced these lines like Laura or Helen did before Father’s parties so they had the best chance to woo a suitor. He speaks the truth that he knows, that he has cemented onto his heart above all else.

  The need to touch him becomes irresistible. A man with a noble mission is more attractive than I ever expected. I want to hold his hand and caress the soft skin of his palm. I want to press my fingers across the strong muscles of his chest and…and…my mind gutters.

  Heat crashes over me, flushing my cheeks and making me shift my weight from foot to foot as it pools uncomfortably in my lower abdomen. This man makes me want dangerous things. Things I’ve never thought I wanted before and certainly never needed.

  “We should return to Vena,” I say, my voice not sounding as strong as normal.

  “We should.” Yet his eyes are still locked with mine, head ducked slightly. For the first time since coming to this world, he looks and sounds like the Lord Fenwood I knew in the manor.

  The rest of our walk is consumed by an awkward, tense silence. Our shoulders brush seven times. But who’s counting?

  Yet we both resist closing that dangerous gap between us. Because in that space was the line of no return. And somehow, in broad daylight in the middle of a busy street, we just came dangerously close to crossing it.

  Chapter 17

  It’s just Giles, Shaye, and me for dinner that night. They’re already sitting, food half gone, when I emerge from my room. I indulged in a midday nap after returning from Hol’s to try and clear my mind. But I find it’s just as murky when I wake. My thoughts, and dreams, all revolve around Davien and this strange new world…even if I don’t want them to.

  “Where’s Oren?” I ask as I swing my legs over the bench at one of the tables in the meeting hall.

  “He had some house business to attend to,” Shaye says.

  “Oh, I see.” Don’t ask about Davien. Don’t ask about Davien, I repeat in my mind. Yet, “And Davien?” Damn it, Katria.

  “Vena wanted him. Likely something to do with the ritual to get the magic out of you.” Giles rips off a drumstick from an unrecognizable breed of large, roasted bird and begins viciously chomping with his sharp teeth. “Knowing the two of them, they’ll have something figured out by morning. Smart ones, they are.”

  “Anyone is smart compared to you, Giles.” Shaye grins.

  “Good thing I keep you around to make up where I lack.” Giles chuckles.

  Shaye quickly turns her attention on me, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “I heard you went out for an adventure in town today.”

  “Hol tell you?” I carve off a hunk of breast meat for myself, grabbing a slice of bread and spoon of vegetables from a serving dish at the same time.

  “Among others.”

  “Others?”

  “People are talking about the new singer and lute player on the scene in the Screaming Goat.” She grins and picks bird-sized pieces of bread, popping them in her mouth. “You got more fire in you than I thought. I didn’t take you for the type to go rogue.”

  I shrug. “I like music and wanted to hear it.”

  “Good thing she’s got a bit of roguish tendency in her.” Giles chuckles. “This is a whole city of rogues. Vigilantes. Ne’er-do-wells. Treasonous scoundrels who don’t fit in anywhere else and would slit our current king’s neck if we had the chance.”

  “Everyone has seemed lovely to me,” I counter, digging into the food.

  “Everyone? Even our dear king-to-be when he was throwing a tantrum in the woods?”

  “Well…” I always knew the anger wasn’t directed at me. Though it was annoying, to put it mildly.

  “How about the ten-year-old who was ready to make you dance for his amusement like a puppet?” Shaye raises her eyebrows.

  “He wasn’t going to hurt me.” I come to Raph’s defense yet again. Even if the situation could’ve e
nded badly, it didn’t. And I truly believe he didn’t mean me harm.

  “Could’ve ended up the same.”

  “I believed he wouldn’t have.”

  “Stop sticking up for people when you shouldn’t. If someone treats you badly, call them out on it.” She shakes her head and glances at me from the corners of her eyes. “Never thought I’d hear a human defending a fae…or saying they’re ‘all right.’ What has the world come to?”

  The notion of pointing out when someone treats me badly is strange. I try and find a place to settle it onto my psyche. I like the idea enough to try and implement it. “Maybe I’m not your average human?”

  “Not as long as you have the king’s magic within you,” Shaye agrees.

  “I hope Davien can get it soon and bring order to this mad world…” Giles murmurs.

  I remember what Davien said in the streets today about Hol. “Did you both live in the Bleeding Woods once?”

  They exchange a look that’s worth a conversation. Giles is the first one to speak, starting with a shake of his head. “I lived in the Court of Pillars originally.”

  “Court of Pillars?”

  “The Boltovs came through and demanded our axes and rituals. We weren’t much in the way of combatants and couldn’t put up a resistance. Though we tried. Those ancient crafting tools were all we had…” His eyes and voice become distant. Shaye reaches across the table and rests a hand on his. Their eyes lock and there’s another moment of understanding between them that I’m an outsider to. The connection between these two is deeper than I originally gave credit.

  Shaye speaks. I can almost sense that she does it so Giles doesn’t have to. “I lived in the High Court originally.”

  “The High Court?” I repeat softly. “The place with the castle? Where the—”

  “Boltovs live. Yes.” Shaye returns her hands to her lap, staring at her plate a moment before taking a swig of her mead with purpose. “I was born there…and I think from the moment I drew my first breath, I exhaled the promise that I would not let myself die there.”

  “Shaye…” Giles says softly.

  She meets my eyes with an intensity that I can’t turn away from. “After my birth, the Boltovs assessed me, determined me worthy, and I began the training to be a Butcher.”

  I think of that man in the woods who was so intent on killing Davien. I imagine him living a life of blood and battle from birth. Knowing no scrap of kindness in a way far, far worse than I can comprehend. “How did you escape?”

  “They turned me into a weapon,” Shaye muses over the edge of her glass. “The thing about the Boltovs is they don’t realize weapons aren’t loyal by default. A sword knows no ruler, only the hand that holds it.”

  “So you found a better ruler?”

  “I found a mind, thought for myself, and became my own ruler,” Shaye insists firmly. “I realized I was not a tool to be used by others. But a soldier—a knight, a person that any king should delight in having on their retainer. That I was not indispensable as my first king thought me. So, I found my own mission, and that happened to align with a better king.”

  I pick at my food, and shift in my seat, trying to get more comfortable. Suddenly, I can’t find a position where my skin feels right. Something she said has jarred me, tilted my world beyond easy repair.

  “How did you find that mind of yours? One where you defined your own worth?” I ask softly. I dare to bring my eyes to her, afraid she’ll chastise or mock me. To my surprise, she doesn’t. She stares at me, intent and expectant. “How were you able to break away from the king who controlled you? How were you able to tell yourself that he no longer mattered or even—even spite him?”

  “It started with a thought,” she says softly. As she speaks, my innermost insecurities are dredged up from the murky depths I try and drown them in. “A thought that maybe the reason why he tried to keep me down was because I was better than he could ever be. He was afraid of me—afraid of what I could become if he didn’t control me. So he spent every bit of his energy making me feel less. Making me feel worthless. Making me feel like I was nothing without him.”

  Wretched girl, do as I say and maybe someday you’ll find someone who loves you, Joyce’s words echo from a history I’ve tried to blot out.

  “I made him feel strong. Ruling over me, telling me what to do, thinking my every breath was dependent on him…that was what gave him power. Which meant I had power. He needed me. And I wanted to take that from him. So I did. I found a mind of my own and I kept it. I harbored it in secret until the moment I could get away. And then I vowed to do everything I could to destroy him.” Shaye stabs her knife into the table at her side. “I will die happy if I am the one to slit his throat when this is all over. But even if I’m not, knowing I helped the person who dealt the final blow shall be my life’s greatest work.”

  I stare in awe at the woman. I should be afraid, I think. But… But I admire her fiercely. She’s everything I wish I could’ve been. Everything I hope I can still yet be. But my villains aren’t kings and their loyalists…they’re dressed in layers of silk. They powder their noses and then turn them up at me. I can dine with fae but the thought of my mother still makes me cower.

  “I think you’ve stunned her into silence.” Giles nudges me as he speaks to Shaye. “You have to go easy on the poor human. She’s not used to our viciousness.”

  “Don’t go easy on my account.” I pick up my fork and knife, tearing into my meat. “I’m finding things very comfortable here. So act normal.”

  Shaye arches her eyebrows at Giles, who snickers. The two are silenced when the doors to Vena’s hall opens. Davien and the leader of Dreamsong stride out, still engaged in an intense discussion—at least until Davien’s eyes snag on me.

  “Good, you’re eating,” he says.

  “What else should I be doing?”

  “Nothing else. It’s just good you are…because you’ll need all your strength for the ritual come morning.”

  I barely get a wink of sleep that night. The entire time I toss and turn. If it’s not the thoughts of what the ritual might entail, it’s the sight of Davien, grinning like a fool and casting those bright green eyes toward me. I even get out of bed at one point, halfway to the door to hunt him down and demand to know what will happen, before I think better of it. I’m going to see him in a few short hours, I remind myself. There’s absolutely no need to go sneaking to his room in the middle of the night, wherever it might be.

  As soon as dawn breaks, I’m out of bed and down the stairs to the main hall. The tables are still being set, candles being lit by taper and magic alike. A familiar voice calls out to me.

  “Oi, miss human!” Raph scurries over. He has a basket half the size of him filled with fresh loaves of bread. “You need to go anywhere today?” He gives me that snaggletooth grin.

  “No… But I could use your help in getting something.” I crouch down, eying the bread in his basket. First I will seize the opportunity of Raph’s nimble little fingers with a new—more careful—deal. Then I’ll nimbly snatch some bread of my own.

  “You know I can deliver anything you need. What can I do you for?”

  “I need a lute. Any lute. Doesn’t have to be a particularly nice one.” Last night would’ve been far more bearable if I’d had something to play to pass the time. “What will that cost me?”

  He thinks about it, puffing out his cheeks while he does. “I want to see the Natural World.”

  I snort, imagining Raph back on the human side of the Fade. Maybe I could employ him at the manor after the magic is out of me. The idea of Raph helping me tend that overgrown garden almost brings forth laughter. I don’t hate the image. He could be an apprentice of sorts to me. Or perhaps I to him. Living that close to the Fade…maybe there’s some old remnants of human magic I’d find in me. Laura would find amusement in Raph at the very least. I’ve begun to imagine her living with me, too. She’d get the magic she sought, and I would gain the knowledge that
Joyce wouldn’t corrupt her.

  “I don’t think I can give that to you. Try again.” I select my warm loaf from the basket. He hums. I suddenly notice he’s avoiding my eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “You have something else in mind?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “I’ll wait.” I tear of hunks of bread, popping them in my mouth while he works up the courage to ask for whatever it is he wants.

  “Iwannahearyousinggain.”

  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “I wantta hear y’singagain.”

  I lean toward him. “One more time.”

  “I want to hear you sing again.” He finally enunciates every word, looking painfully yet adorably shy as he does. “Play me a song with the lute I bring you.”

  I’m on the verge of agreeing when I think of what Davien said. “What song?”

  “Any song of your choosing.”

  “When?”

  “Any time of your choosing.”

  “For how long?”

  “Any song, any time, in any fashion of your choosing. You have free will to decide the circumstances of how you fulfill this deal.”

  I hum and narrow my eyes. “You know I know your parents now, right? You’re not trying to be sneaky, are you?”

  His skinny tail twitches with annoyance. “I’ll bring you a lute if you play me a song as you want, when you want. But when you play, I have to be able to sit right in the front to listen. That’s all I ask. No catches. No tricks.”

  “Deal.” I stand and ruffle his hair. Who knows if he’ll actually bring the lute, anyway? “You’re not so bad, for a kid.”

  “And you’re halfway decent, for a human.” He sticks out his tongue at me.

  “Raph.” Davien’s tone is a warning.

  I stick my tongue back at the little fae, making sure Davien sees so he knows our jest is mutual. I glance back at him with a slight grin. “I started it.”