The wooden staircase was gone, swallowed into the landscape though the steps themselves remained, covered in a lush carpet of grass. The swirl of magic still boiled around the top of the mound, gleaming and shimmering in the bright sunshine that blazed high in a cobalt sky. Everyone strained their eyes against the glare, searching the magic for a glimpse of him, wanting to be the first to lay eyes on the new king.
At last, a figure appeared at the top of the steps and the crowd fell silent. All of those assembled, the Elves and Dark and Light Fae alike, sank to their knees. For a moment he looked out over the sea of people, over the land that had renewed with his power, his sacrifice. Moving slowly, he placed a foot on the first step, and with each footstep that touched the ground, a carpet of flowers grew at his feet, spreading out like a jewel-studded carpet as he moved.
Claudette stared in awe at the man she would one day call husband and found that he dazzled her eyes, as though she had stared too long at the sun. Her heart swelled with pride, and a love so encompassing her heart seemed too frail to contain it. It seemed inevitable that it would break in two, sooner or later. For as hard as it had been to believe before, she felt the impossibility of holding him now, of keeping him for her alone. The magic shone from him, brighter than the sun that blazed over them, and the new King of the Fae Lands stood before them.
Chapter 30
Corin moved through the thick haze of his own power with his blood seething in his veins. That power burned within him, his body alight with it, magic sparking across his skin, the current pulsing from the core of the earth to the very marrow of his bones. With each footstep, each new contact with the soil, the connection grew, becoming ever more profound. The soil became richer, fertile and fecund, and around him, new life burst through the ground. He had never felt more alive.
The burning, his meeting with Nerthus, all of it was vague in his mind. Like trying to snatch the remnants of a dream, the harder he clung to it, the faster it slipped from his grasp. He knew it was important, whatever had been said, whatever he had fought for … but he knew, too, that he was afraid of the truth, and it was the truth. So he let it go. For now. Nerthus would not let him forget for long. Yet there was enough to face yet, the Light Fae Kingdom to rebuild and the three kingdoms to bring together. Three very different peoples to unite as one, despite their differences. This, today, was the first step. A show of power.
Alfheim would be proud to have produced the king of all Fae from one of their own, though there were still those with their eyes on the throne, or who simply had their own agenda and would work against him. The people of the Light Fae would be grateful and loyal to him for the return of their lands and their health. The powerful, though, the privileged classes, they may not feel the same way. The Dark Fae were his greatest challenge. They, more than any of the rest, would be the hardest to bring to heel. Laen would command the armies and they would follow his lead. That wasn’t enough, though. Corin would not accept their racism, their bigotry, their cruelty. He would stamp it out, eradicate their old unjust laws and write them anew, and deal harshly with those who dared defy them. But to bring an entire race of people around to not only accept a different way of thinking, but to understand and support it … that would take time.
To say Laen had taken him by surprise with his public show of affection would be the understatement of the century. Even thinking of it now made him grin like an idiot, he was so moved by his bravery. Yet if Laen had found the courage to go against everything his people stood for, then he had to believe that there was hope for the rest of his race. Conversely, his actions would only have made the hardcore bigots, those who had been closest to King Braed, even harder to deal with. For them, it would have just confirmed their suspicions, but he would never have won them over in any case, so it mattered little. To begin with, they must fear him; in time he hoped to win their respect, but failing that, they would face his wrath.
Corin watched the ground at his feet, bemused as tiny flowers studded the grass around him with every step. The force of his magic now was such that he simply could not contain it. It would take him some time to learn to hold it back, to rein it in and control it, but for now, it spilled from him like an overflowing cup, enveloping everything that fell in its path.
As he stepped clear of the swirling cloud of magic that had surrounded him at the top of the mound, he heard the gasps and murmurings of the crowd cease as they saw who it was that stood before them. He paused for a moment to take in their faces, to smile in satisfaction as he saw the vitality that had been returned to both the people and the land as he scanned the crowd for the faces he needed to see most. His gaze fell upon Claudette, with Laen standing close beside her, and he felt the last vestige of tension leave him. As long as he had them both with him, he felt that he could do anything. Anything was possible.
His gaze fell on Claudette and those beautiful turquoise eyes that held his heart and made his blood run faster, and he was dismayed to see the sorrow there. She was smiling at him, so full of pride it made his chest ache, but he wondered at her sadness. The burning, he decided, it must have frightened her badly. In truth, it was something he never wanted to think of again, though he suspected he would continue to dream of it for the rest of his days. He smiled back at her as he made his way down the stairs, and the people hushed, silent in their awe of him as they got to their knees, bowing their heads with the greatest respect … all except a defiant section of the Dark Fae.
Corin stopped and turned to where Braed's core supporters stood together, watching him with their cold, hard eyes. He frowned, the movement barely creasing his brow, but the ground beneath the Dark Fae began to tremble and rock. The soldiers fought to stay standing as the ground buckled beneath their feet, holding onto their neighbours for support, but in the end it was useless, and they fell to their knees.
Corin smiled and then looked around, suddenly aware of a large presence at his side as he heard Laen address them.
"You will kneel for your king!" he commanded, his voice bellowing across the fields as he drew his sword. "Bow your damned heads or I shall take every last one from your shoulders and lay them at his feet."
The men glowered at him with anger in their eyes, but did as he commanded. Laen watched until the last man had bent his head in supplication, and then turned to Corin. For a moment, he could see fear and hesitation in Laen’s eyes, an anxiety that the man before him was not the same as the one who had stepped onto the Field of Kings with him at his side. He was wondering if things would change between them now. Corin smiled at him, hoping he could see that he was the same at heart.
“Laen,” he said, his voice warm.
Reassured, Laen let out a breath and smiled in return before holding out his sword to him in both hands. “My sword is yours to command, Your Majesty." He bowed his head and moved to kneel, but Corin stepped forward and grasped his arm, forcing him to a halt.
"No,” he said, his eyes grave and serious as he looked into the eyes of his oldest friend. “You kneel to no man, Laen."
Laen sucked in a breath in shock, staring at him, and then shook his head. "You are king now. It is as it should be."
"Yes, I am king,” Corin replied, his voice hard and authoritative. “And I say you shall kneel to no one … my Lord Protector." Corin watched, amused by the astonishment on Laen's face. "You surely cannot have thought it would be otherwise?” he asked, wondering how the man could have believed he’d do anything else. “I cannot do this without you. You will stand beside me and protect me and my kingdom. You will rule in my absence, your words will be my words, your commands spoken as from my own mouth. I would have it no other way." Laen blinked and swallowed hard, but seemed unable to say a word. "Well, my lord? I would have an answer from you." Corin squeezed his arm, stepping closer to him. "Do you accept?" he asked, his voice soft.
Laen cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "Yes," he said, his voice gruff as his eyes narrowed. "I accept. I suppose someone has to kee
p you out of trouble, you damn fool. What the devil did you think you were about?" he demanded, anger flashing in his black eyes all at once. "You could have been killed, letting my father begin before you, what if you had misjudged? What if ..."
Corin chuckled and shook his head. "But I didn't,” he said, interrupting Laen’s tirade before he could get into full flow. “And besides, you know I can never resist the opportunity to make a show of myself."
"It's no joking matter!” he exploded, apparently his awe of Corin’s new status short-lived. “Have you any idea how it felt to stand down there watching … watching while ..." Laen stopped abruptly and clamped his jaw shut, and Corin smiled as he knew he was too emotional to carry on without giving himself away.
"I know, old friend, but it had to be done," Corin said, an apology in his voice. He stepped closer to whisper to him, his hand still holding Laen’s arm. "I had to put on a show or they would have seen how terribly afraid I was. I couldn't have that. Not in front of them all. I wanted to make you all proud, that is all."
"Idiot!" Laen snapped, pulling away from Corin's grasp and folding his massive arms, vibrating with suppressed emotions. He glowered at him for a while and then shook his head, letting out a huff of irritation. "How could we be anything other than proud?" he grumbled. "Come on, if we talk about this any longer, I may kill you, and we if keep Claudette waiting another moment, she's going to kill me."
Corin laughed, happy that everything was as it should be as his eyes found Claudette’s once more. She was watching his every move, waiting for him. She was still gripping the balustrade, so hard her knuckles were white. He smiled at her and moved forward again, anxious to reassure the fear he could see only too clearly in her eyes.
***
As Claudette met those astonishing golden eyes, she felt like the naive country girl she had once been all over again. The frightened young woman who had run from him when he had touched her hand with a fingertip, knowing only too well that she was already lost. She drank in the sight of him, taking in every detail. There was a slim silver crown on his head wound around with ivy, and his hair was glossy, shining a deep chestnut under the blazing sun. Tiny plaits were visible, woven with silver thread and seed pearls. He was dressed as though for battle, a warrior king, the leather armour overlaid with silver, once again crafted with ivy and oak leaves and bind weed that twisted and coiled in the silver around his arms. A long white cloak fell from his shoulders, heavily embroidered in silver and green with the same motifs, the oak leaves and climbing ivy and bind weed all trailing artfully as birds and dragonflies and all manner of insects flitted within the design. There was clearly magic within the work as the birds and insects really flew, moving within the weave of the fabric, and the plants grew and tangled together as he moved. He looked every inch a powerful Fae King, too incredible, too magical, to be real.
Claudette felt once again the dreadful fear of losing him. How could she ever hope to keep the attention of a man like this, where everywhere he turned there would be women more beautiful than her to tempt his thoughts away from home? It had been bad enough when he’d been a prince, but now … everyone would want a piece of him. Everyone would want to get close to the new king. She knew he had never been faithful before, had never stayed with anyone long enough to try. Her heart beat out of control in her chest, tightening her throat as he came closer, and she felt tears prick at her eyes, but she took a deep breath. She would not let him down. She would act as she was supposed to. Everyone around her bent their knee to the king as he stepped onto the platform, the women sinking into low curtsies. Claudette bent her head, to follow their example, when his voice cut sharply through her own thoughts and made her jump out of her skin.
“Don’t you dare!” he said, his voice angry.
She looked at him in horror, wondering what terrible error she had made to make him sound so cross, but any words she might have spoken were snatched away as he embraced her. She was so relieved to feel his arms around her that when he kissed her, she completely forgot about the thousands of people watching them. His kiss was such that she didn’t even hear the crowd as they erupted, cheering and clapping, an explosion of sound as their king’s obvious joy lifted their own hearts and voices to the skies.
Corin let her go and Claudette looked up to see those golden eyes so full of life and love for her that her heart eased. Whatever was coming, she would fight for him. She would not let anything come between them.
He had taken hold of her hands and squeezed them gently. “You will be my queen, ma belle, you will never curtsy to another, least of all me.” He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I regret to tell you that I am just the same as ever I was, nothing has changed. Are you having second thoughts?” Claudette stared at him, surprised to discover there was anxiety in his eyes despite the teasing quality of his words. She smiled as she realised he was afraid, too, afraid that this would be too much for her, that being his queen was too much for her to deal with, that perhaps she would run away in fear.
“No,” she said, shaking her head and lifting one hand to stroke his cheek. “I was just wondering how it was possible that I could love you even more than I did before, when my heart was already bursting. I am so proud of you, mon loup.”
He stood gazing at her, and Claudette bit back a smile as she saw the desire in his eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Maybe she didn’t need to worry so much, not yet at least. She caught her breath as that desire and the power of his magic wrapped around her. That power was terribly attractive, making her blood heat as her eyes fell to his mouth and she found she could not look away. Claudette gasped as desire rushed through her veins. She had never wanted him more.
There was a loud cough behind them. “Keep your mind on the job for five minutes, will you?” Laen muttered, leaning in and jerking his head at the interested crowds around them.
Corin scowled at him. “Spoilsport.”
Laen rolled his eyes and jerked his head sideways, gesturing to the recently deposed queen. “Your mother!” he hissed, giving Corin a warning glare. Claudette watched as Corin realised he should have greeted her by now, especially as she’d just had the crown ripped from her in such a manner.
“Oh, gods!” he muttered, thanking Laen with a nod and moving towards her. Corin hurried to give his hand to his mother, who was still sunk in a deep curtsey, waiting for her son to acknowledge her. Claudette could see the trepidation in his eyes and knew he was wondering how she would react. Audrianne had clung to power for so long, even though she knew Alfheim belonged to her son.
“Hello, Mother,” he said, his voice cautious.
“Oh, Corin!” Protocol quite forgotten, she threw herself at him, embracing him and weeping as she held him tight, putting her hands to his face, staring at him with tear-reddened eyes. “I was so frightened. When I saw you burn ...”
Corin’s face softened and he held her, rubbing her back and smiling as she cried against his chest. “There, there,” he soothed, his voice soft. “It is done now. There is nothing to upset you further, though … I am sorry for the loss of your crown.”
Audrianne shook her head, moving away a little to look up at him as tears continued to streak down her lovely face unchecked. “I knew when I saw you take your place on the field that I would give it willingly, a hundred times over, rather than see you in pain. I am so very, very proud of you.” Claudette felt her own eyes prickle with tears at the relief and pleasure in Corin’s eyes. For once, his mother had done as she should have, and it gladdened her heart to see the happiness it had brought him. Audrianne smiled then, a rather sly if teasing expression in her eyes now. “Besides,” she added, wiping her eyes and putting up her chin. “Being mother of the king of all Fae is not such a step down,” she said with a haughty sniff.
Corin laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I am glad to see you have got things in perspective,” he replied with warmth.
“Of course, darling,” she said, patting his arm and
winking at him. “I would not wish to disappoint you.”
Smiling, then, he turned, and Claudette knew he was expecting to see his father, and her heart clenched. He looked back at his mother, who reached out, taking his hand.
“It was too much for him,” she said, her face full of sympathy as Corin’s eyes filled with pain. “Seeing you burn, he thought … we all thought we had lost you.” Claudette saw his face pale and opened her mouth to speak, but Audrianne hurried on. “He’s alright!” she exclaimed, realising he feared the worst. “Anaïs is with him. He knows you are safe, but he’s exhausted, he needs to rest.”
“I must go to him,” Corin said, beginning to turn away, and then stopped as she held onto his hand.
“No.” Audrianne shook her head, her eyes hard. “Corin, your father will wait to see you later. He needs to rest, in any case, but you have responsibilities. You are king now, and you must act as one.”
“But Father ...” he protested as Claudette moved closer to take his arm, aware of his distress.
“Your father will be furious with you if you do not act as you know you should,” Audrianne replied, her voice hard now. She sighed and glanced at Claudette, who had also noted the stubborn look glinting in his eyes. Audrianne looked back at him. “Tell me I am wrong,” she demanded.
The Darkest Night Page 37