These Hollow Vows

by Lexi Ryan

  “No.” Sebastian’s nostrils flare. “Absolutely not. Even if I thought he could be trusted—and I can’t stress enough that he cannot—there’s nothing he would ask of you that I would let you give.” He curses and drags a hand through his hair. “This is such a mess.”

  He really is a wreck about not being able to find Jas. I may still be reluctant to trust Sebastian again, but he’s doing everything he can to help my sister. It’s impossible to stay angry with him. “Thank you,” I say. He deserves at least that. “Thank you for trying to find her.”

  He opens his mouth, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he snaps it shut again and stares at his tea. “How was dinner?”

  I bite back a smile. “It was definitely . . . interesting. Gods above and below, Bash, I think those women would skin me alive if they thought it would get them closer to you.” I shake my head. Eleven beautiful, bright-eyed, healthy women, each more excited to be Sebastian’s bride than the last. “You’re really going to marry a stranger?”

  His throat bobs as he swallows. “I hope whoever I marry isn’t a stranger when the time comes.”

  “You’re evading.” I try to keep my tone light, but I see the weariness in his eyes.

  He takes a sip of his tea. “It’s tradition.”

  “What is? Choosing a bride like you’d choose a breeding mare?” And there goes my attempt to make nice.

  “As awful as it might seem from your point of view, it is important that we continue the royal bloodline. I have no siblings, and my grandparents and great-grandparents were killed in the Great Fae War. My mother and I are the only royal Seelie blood remaining. Though some of my ancestors had the luxury of marrying for love and hoping to be blessed with children over time, I don’t. Being born into privilege comes with responsibilities.”

  I bite my lip. I hate this conversation. I hate it because I can’t hide my feelings on this, and I hate that I have feelings on the subject at all. “If you had the choice, would you prefer to marry a fae female—perhaps a member of the nobility?”

  Sebastian puts his mug down and leans against the counter, folding his arms. “Honestly, I would prefer not to be thinking of marriage at all. I’m only twenty-one, which is considered very young among my kind. In an ideal world, I wouldn’t be thinking of marriage for another decade or more, but my world isn’t ideal. It’s broken. And I find myself in the intimidating and humbling position of fixing it. Part of me would rather be back in Fairscape acting as a mage’s apprentice, but I take my duty to my people seriously. No matter how much I want to, I don’t get to think of marriage and bonding ceremonies with the same romantic notions my mother did when she was my age.”

  “Bonding? What’s romantic about controlling someone?”

  He tips his head to the side, and his brow furrows. “Why do you think it’s about control?”

  “Isn’t bonding the way you imprison your slaves?”

  He shakes his head. “None of my servants have been bonded to me. And while some fae have used the bond to lock humans into lifetimes of servitude, it was never intended to be used like that. Faeries have incorporated the bonding ceremony into their weddings since the beginning of time. Its origins are pure. Life-bonded fae have a sense of each other at all times. It’s a heightened empathy that allows you to know when your partner is in danger or hurting. Bonded fae spouses are conscious of each other’s needs always. They feel each other’s pain and happiness like it’s their own. It’s quite beautiful, really.”

  “But that’s not what happens when you’re bonded to a human.”

  He rocks back on his heels and sighs. “The first faeries to bond with humans didn’t know that it would be different. But you’re right. It is. Humans aren’t magical, so the bond is more like a one-way street. The human partner doesn’t have the awareness of the other side of the bond the way a faerie would.”

  “And it gives faeries a degree of control over their humans,” I say, unwilling to let him keep that piece unspoken. I shake my head. “I can’t imagine why anyone would allow that.”

  “They can’t control them the way you think. The human still has free will, but faeries who don’t respect the bond have certainly used it to compel their humans.”

  “That sounds like control to me.”

  “But it’s not.” He rubs the back of his neck, thinking. “Imagine that I want you to sleep. If we were bonded, I couldn’t force you to, but I could mentally do the equivalent of turning off the lights and wrapping you in a warm blanket. You still get to choose whether or not to close your eyes.”

  “What if your bride-to-be doesn’t want the bond?”

  He gives me a sad smile and holds my gaze as he touches my cheek. My skin tingles beneath his callused fingertips. “I think I’m looking at the only woman under this roof who would refuse to be bonded with me.”

  Does he want me to apologize for that? Does he expect me to change the way I feel about everything just because he’s not who he pretended to be?

  But he doesn’t seem to need an answer, because he goes on. “It can still be beautiful—even between a faerie and a human. It’s about protecting someone who’s a piece of you. It’s a gift that makes you the best partner possible by heightening your awareness of their . . . needs.”

  His gaze dips to the neckline of my nightgown, and my cheeks heat.

  “It means a lot to you,” I say.

  “It does. And after my bride has children, she will drink the Potion of Life, and the bond will work between us as it does between any two faeries.”

  “The Potion of Life?”

  “That’s the special magic we use to transform humans into fae. They become immortal. Surely you’ve heard of it.”

  I have, but I figured it was just another legend to convince humans to put their trust in capitalizing faeries. “What if your bride doesn’t want to be a faerie?”

  “Then I suppose I’ll have to decide if I truly want her as my bride. It would be no easy thing to watch and feel my life-bonded partner die, knowing that I have centuries of life ahead of me.” He straightens and backs away. “I’ll take you to bed. You have an early start tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twelve

  LIVING IN THE CASTLE IS STRANGE. It should feel like a dream come true. Every day I am pampered, fed delicious foods, and dressed in beautiful gowns. Though I continue to try to convince my servants to find me pants, there’s no real need for them amid this luxury. At night I sleep in a warm bed covered by the softest blankets.

  I’ve never known a life like this and never thought I would, but I can’t enjoy it. Every day that I fail to find the mirror is another day my sister is locked away. The king says she’s safe, but what does he consider safe?

  I’ve been at the castle for five nights, and despite the splendor, I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. I go to meals with the other girls, take dancing lessons, listen to long lectures about the history of the Seelie Court and the crimes of the lawless Unseelie. In short, I do what I must to continue this charade of being a potential bride while using every free moment to search for ways into the queen’s chambers. I observe the guards and the comings and goings of the servants.

  I may be temporarily stuck on the mirror, but I hope everything I learn about the castle now will make my next task that much easier. The sooner I can finish this mission and get Jas home, the better.

  I stare out my bedroom windows and scan the garden below. The day lilies stretch their heads to the sun and make me think of Sebastian. “Any word on when the prince will return?” I ask my maids. Sebastian’s rarely at the castle, much to the girls’ dismay, and I’m not sure how he’s finding time to get to know his potential brides when he’s gone so often.

  “He’s not away,” Tess says, braiding my hair out of my face. “He’s spending the day with one of the other girls.”

  Jealousy sits like a rock in my stomach. “Oh. A favorite, then?”

  My face must give me away because Tess tsks and smiles at my reflecti
on in the window. “You have nothing to worry about. Everyone knows he favors you.”

  And yet we haven’t spoken since our discussion over tea in the kitchen. There’s no reason he would spend his limited time with me when he knows I’m not interested in being his bride. I should be glad for that—I’ve had more time to search—but it’s hard to let go of feelings I’ve harbored for Sebastian for two years.

  “I’m sure he’ll spend time with you soon,” Tess says. She ties off the braid and starts on the other side. “And anyway, he probably knows you’re not available.”

  “I’m not?”

  “You’ll meet your tutor today.”

  I frown. “Tutor? For what?”

  “All the girls are assigned tutors. Should the young prince choose you as his bride, you’ll need to be prepared. Your tutor will refine your habits and manners, attending to you on a personal level.”

  “Can’t you do that?” I ask. I like my maids, and I’ve become accustomed to them. I don’t want to have another person watching me.

  Emmaline laughs from the bathroom, where she’s cleaning the tub. “We are not ladies,” she says, poking her head out the door. “Simply servants.”

  “But I bet you could teach me anything my tutor could.”

  The twins look at each other. I can’t tell if they’re amused or baffled by me. Perhaps both. “In any case,” Tess says, “your tutor will arrive any minute. Her name is Eurelody, and she’s worked with the queen’s historians for over a century. You’re lucky to have her.”

  Over a century. Maybe she’ll know about the queen’s schedule and when Arya’s expected to travel away from the castle. If I can find a discreet way to inquire . . .

  “Can we get you anything before we go?” Emmaline asks.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  I don’t know why I assumed that Sebastian was out of the castle just because he hasn’t been to see me. Maybe I offended him with my comments about his sacred traditions.

  Or maybe he’s trying to find a bride.

  “Lost in thought, I see,” a soft voice says behind me.

  I turn to see a short, chubby faerie with rosy cheeks and pointed ears. Her translucent wings barely fit through the doorway. I make myself smile. It’s not her fault that I have no interest in our time together. “Hello. You must be Eurelody. I’m Abriella.”

  The woman gives me a quick once-over and, seeming to find my attire acceptable, turns back to the door. “Very good. Let’s get out of the palace for a while, shall we?”

  My breath catches. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how claustrophobic I was feeling being stuck inside these walls. After nearly dying in the forest, I didn’t dare disobey Sebastian’s order to stay within the palace gates, but surely I’ll be safe if I’m with Eurelody.

  She’s already heading down the hall, and I have no choice but to follow. “Where are we going?”

  She doesn’t bother slowing or looking back at me as she answers. “If you want to be a princess, you need to meet your future subjects.”

  * * *

  The carriage is comfortably appointed with cushions, and draperies across the windows for privacy. Eurelody and I sit knee to knee as we leave the castle grounds, and I’m well aware of her attention on me as I watch the changing landscape outside. I don’t bother filling the silence, and neither does she. Instead, I focus on the rolling green hills, the forest in the distance, and the mountains beyond. Even knowing how dangerous those woods are, I can’t help but find them lovely. Everything in Seelie territory glows with the lush green of late spring. I wonder if Unseelie territory is the same or if the shadow fae suffer perpetual winter.

  Miles from the castle, we turn into a quaint village. The carriage jostles on the cobblestones, jarring me this way and that before coming to a sudden stop.

  “We’re here,” Eurelody says.

  Half-timbered houses line streets where faeries of all kinds hawk their wares to passersby. The smell of fresh bread and pastries fills the air from one merchant’s cart. Another merchant pours a sample of wine for a patron while others sell flowers, beautiful fabrics, and jewelry.

  Fairscape has a market like this. When I was a child, my mother would take us along when she ran errands for the wealthy family who employed her. They would send her for candles and clothing, for art for the walls of their massive home. If we behaved, Mother would buy us a tiny candy each. I used to imagine that we were shopping for ourselves, that we were the ones who could afford such luxuries.

  “What are those little faeries?” I ask Eurelody, nodding to the tiny airborne creatures with butterfly wings.

  “Hush, girl.” She shakes her head and tugs me by the arm toward a narrow lane opposite the village market. Nearly identical houses line the road, and she leads me up the front steps of the third. The door creaks as it opens, and she drags me inside and throws herself against it to shut it. “Sprites,” she says, wagging a finger at me, “do not like being called little.”

  “But they—”

  “Are more powerful than they look and more spiteful than you can imagine,” she says. “In fact, some call them spites for just that reason, but that’s slang, and many sprites consider it derogatory. If you offend a sprite, you just might find yourself attacked by fire ants or with a swarm of bees charging at you.”

  “They’re not all so spiteful,” a deep voice says. “Some are quite docile.”

  I turn to my right and scramble backwards toward the door when I spot the male emerging from a dimly lit room. Kane. The red-eyed, horned faerie who carried me over his shoulder to meet Finn.

  I spin away from Kane and smile at my tutor. I don’t know where we are, but I can’t let one of Queen Arya’s people think I’ve been associating with the enemy. “We should go.”

  Eurelody smiles at me, and then the air around her shimmers and her skin glows. Suddenly she’s not Eurelody but Pretha. This faerie has many faces, it seems.

  “Pretha . . . you—” I seethe.

  She smiles in response and gives me a little curtsy. “So kind of you to remember me by name, Abriella.”

  “Where’s Eurelody?”

  “She left the queen’s service years ago, but I show up in her form now and again to maintain easy access to the castle. The queen has so many in her service that she doesn’t even notice that her old scholar is rarely researching.”

  My eyes dart to the door. Did the carriage we arrived in belong to Pretha or the queen? If I run outside, I can’t assume that my driver will take me anywhere. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t return to the castle and tell them who you really are.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns to Kane. “Prince Ronan thinks she’s so smart and so special, but if she truly were those things, I think she’d want to know all the reasons she shouldn’t tell the queen, not just one.”

  “The prince is young and blinded by her beauty,” Kane says. “The night she ran from the tavern, she proved how lacking she is in the intelligence department.”

  I fold my arms. “Insulting me will get you nowhere but the queen’s oubliette.”

  This threat doesn’t faze either of them. Instead, Pretha casually shrugs out of her robe and hangs it on the hook by the door. She adjusts her leather vest and the scabbard at her side. “I am not your enemy, Abriella.”

  “And yet the last time I got away from you, a death dog nearly made me his dinner. Am I supposed to believe that was a coincidence?”

  “You think I sent the Barghest after you?” The silver webbing on her forehead seems to pulse with outrage.

  “You, Finn, Kane? Does it make a difference?”

  Kane grunts. “Why would we do that?”

  “Because I refused to work with you. I’m not clueless. I know the Unseelie sometimes take Barghests as animal companions.”

  Kane barks out a laugh, then shakes his head and walks away. “I’ll tell Finn she’s here—and that she thinks we’re murderers who command vicious and powerful monsters. Awesom
e start to a new partnership, I think he’ll agree.”

  “Where would you get such an idea?” Pretha asks, ignoring Kane. “Did your prince tell you we were behind the Barghest?”

  “He didn’t have to.”

  “You wanted to leave, and we let you.” Pretha frowns. “After you ran from the tavern, I followed you to the forest. Finn forbade me to follow you too closely. He just wanted to make sure you made it safely to wherever you were going.”

  “Oh? And did you tell him I was nearly torn to bits?”

  “Yes.” She cocks her head to the side. “It’s a good thing those wolves came along to distract the creature.”

  “It’s a good thing Sebastian came along to save me.”

  “So you’ve already forgiven your golden prince for his deceptions?” Finn says, stepping out of the dark hallway and into the foyer. I was so distracted by Pretha that I didn’t hear his steps in the hall. Or maybe I wouldn’t have even if I’d tried. He looks to Kane and Pretha. “I told you it would take less than a week. Looks like you each owe me five gold.”

  “We don’t owe you a damn thing, Finn,” Kane says, entering the foyer behind him. “The girl didn’t answer the question.”

  “If she didn’t trust that boy, she never would have gotten into that carriage with Pretha this morning,” Finn says.

  Pretha shakes her head. “She can trust him without forgiving him. They’re entirely separate emotions.”

  They’re betting on when I’ll forgive Sebastian. Rude. “I’m glad this is all so amusing to you.”

  Finn’s silver eyes harden and glitter like the surface of a frozen pond in the moonlight. “I assure you I’m not amused in the slightest,” he says. “I’m impatient. Considering that my uncle has your sister, I’m surprised you aren’t as well. But maybe you’re content to enjoy the luxuries of palace life, busy preparing for your life as that boy’s princess.”

  “How dare you—” I shuffle back a step, spotting two sets of glowing silver eyes in the dark hallway. Two large wolves prowl forward and stop on either side of Finn.