“If there’s nothing else, then I have things to attend to.” The seneschal gave her an expectant look.
“That … that will be all.” Noli waved her hand like she’d see her grandmother do when dismissing servants.
The seneschal left, leaving her and V alone with Padraig, who’d be overseeing the actual ceremony.
“Noli, you have to be more regal,” V hissed. “Also, what was that?”
“I … I just thought my wedding would be different.” Noli looked away. A dress made by her mother and a veil attached to a coronet of flowers. Her father walking her down the aisle. Music. A lavish reception. A fancy cake.
Her family.
All those thoughts she shoved away. No, like V promised, she’d get a proper wedding eventually.
He always kept his promises.
She loved V with every fiber of her being. Yet this was all so much, so fast … and so different. Why did she keep making bad choices?
Her gaze fell on V, who was still looking at her expectantly.
Was he one of those bad choices?
No. He wasn’t.
She swallowed hard. This wasn’t how she thought it would be. Yet at the same time, there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t make it worse.
Eyes misty, Noli looked away. “I … I need to look over everything one last time.”
“Yes. It must be perfect.” V nodded in agreement. “Excellence is not an act, but a habit.”
“Aristotle said that.” If he was quoting Aristotle, he was serious. Excellence she could understand. But perfection? She gulped. Noli and perfect were never used in the same sentence. Try as she may, she’d never be the perfect faery queen.
Would V end up hating her for it?
Worse, would she hate herself?
“Excuse me.” Taking a deep breath, Noli fled the room as gracefully as she could.
Twenty
Following Orders
Kevighn frowned, Magnolia’s toolbox in hand. In front of him sat a stretch of wild lands, an expanse just a few shades shy of the chaos of the pure magic itself. Strange creatures and dangerous beasties lurked in the wild lands, usually feeding off lost travelers. This particular area was quite dangerous because it was riddled with pockets of wild magic.
Could Magnolia’s father—or what was left of him—be in there?
Unfortunately, Kevighn didn’t have time to search further. If he wasn’t back in time to attend the coronation … Ciarán wasn’t one to disobey.
Especially if you valued your life.
He’d return tomorrow.
Kevighn walked up the back stairs of the Thirsty Pooka. Footsteps echoed behind him and he turned.
“Where have you been?” Ciarán scolded, hood up, his clothes the kind he usually wore when acting as dark king, not tavern owner.
“Doing as you ordered. Also, I figured I should dress suitably.” Kevighn held up a bundle he’d retrieved from his cabin.
Ciarán nodded. “Good. I think our best opportunity to find the children will be during the party after the ceremony. If we’re lucky, they’ll be running around with the other children and it will be easy to make contact. I’ll leave slipping away with them to you.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. If we’re unlucky, it will offer cover for me to find them.” If he was occupied, it would mean less time he needed to spend looking at Magnolia and that whelp of a prince playing happy couple.
Ciarán clapped Kevighn on the shoulder. “This is for the better.” His eyes bore into Kevighn’s own.
Suddenly, Kevighn understood. His head bowed.
Ciarán lifted up his chin so that their eyes met again. “Your family is waiting for you.”
“I know.” Kevighn couldn’t look away, yet he had no other response than those two words. Two little woefully inadequate words. He turned, releasing himself from Ciarán’s touch. “I’m going to get dressed.”
“Did you find anything?” Ciarán asked.
“Perhaps … but I’ll hunt more tomorrow.” He walked up the stairs without looking back. Putting aside Magnolia meant setting aside an era; that he was ready to close this chapter of his life. That he was done mourning Creideamh.
He should. Ciarán had been waiting for him far too long—longer than he’d ever wait for anyone. It wouldn’t be disloyalty. Creideamh would want him to continue on with his life, especially caring for her son.
Still, it didn’t make it any easier.
Elise twirled in her new party dress, so fluffy and soft. “It’s suitable, Miri?”
“You’re perfect.” Miri bounced as she clapped her hands.
“I can’t believe that Noli and Steven are getting married—and that she’s a queen and he’s a king. It’s like something from a story.” Though she was still vexed with Steven. Why had no one ever told her that she was a princess? A princess! All her friends would be jealous.
Miri let out a happy sigh, hands clasped under her chin. “It is, isn’t it?”
There was a knock on the open door and Aodhan hobbled in, dressed very nicely.
His eyes grew big as he stopped right in front of her. “Elise … you … you look nice.”
Elise put her hand to her lips and giggled. “You do as well.”
“Do you think my father or uncle will be at the party?” Aodhan frowned. “Noli said that I might go home today.”
“I don’t know.” Though she didn’t want him to go.
Steven entered, wearing an elaborate green and brown outfit with embroidery on it, his sigil visibly around his neck, their father’s ring on his hand, a sword at his side.
“Are you here to take us to the party?” Elise asked. “Do I get to be the flower girl? I’ve always wanted to be one.”
Her brother shook his head. “There are no flower girls in Otherworld weddings.”
“Why wouldn’t Noli want a flower girl? She’s queen—she could insist.” Elise pouted. “How is my dress?”
“Elise … you and Aodhan aren’t going to the party. You’re to stay here with Miri,” Steven told her.
“What?” she and Miri said at the same time.
“Miri,” Steven’s voice gentled. “It will be most helpful for you to stay here and play with Elise and Aodhan. At some point James will come up and play with them so that you can have a turn at the party.”
“Oh, all right.” Miri nodded, looking a little disappointed. “I know all sorts of games we can play.”
Elise tugged on Steven’s shirt, not understanding why, once again, she was left behind. “But I want to go.”
“No.” Steven crossed his arms over his chest in a way that reminded her of their father.
“You’re not my dadaí.” Elise’s eyes squinted and her lower lip jutted out. She was tired of being told what to do.
“No, I’m not. But I’m in charge and you’re not going. Now, I need to go.” He left.
“He’s quite frowny for someone getting married,” Miri murmured. “Oh well. I’ll go get some games.” She left.
Elise turned to Aodhan. “I wanted to go.”
Aodhan’s eyes went alight with mischief. “Why don’t we sneak out?”
“Oh, that’s brilliant. After all, Steven never said we couldn’t leave—just that we couldn’t attend the party. We’ll play with Miri for a little while, then distract her and sneak out.”
As much as she hated to trick Miri, they couldn’t have adventures with her around.
“How will we do that?” Aodhan’s eyebrows rose.
She grinned. “We’ll play hide and go seek. Miri is a very good hider.”
He laughed. “This will be fun.”
Elise went giddy inside. Who thought not listening would be so enjoyable? “Yes, indeed.”
Twenty-One
The Coronation
Not that it would help.
Queen. She was about to become queen. A faery queen. Something bedtime stories were made of. Not that before this year she’d even believed in fairy tales.
Her life would never be the same. As much as she loved adventure, it seemed her adventures and decisions simply got her into trouble. Each one of those poor choices—which had seemed good at the time—had thrown her life into a tailspin. Even she knew impulsiveness wasn’t a good trait in a leader.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she smoothed the skirts of her elaborate green gown, the brown corset covered in gold embroidery, filling the fabric with a scene of trees and leaves, which matched that of the dress and long train. Certainly, it was exquisite—her mother couldn’t have done better.
The door opened and V entered, looking dashing in his own finery. Padraig followed in an elaborate robe, carrying a wooden staff.
“Do you remember your parts?” V grilled, without even a hello or you look nice.
“Yes,” she snapped. “You just heard me go through them three times.”
“The pronunciations have to be perfect. You have to be perfect.” He stood very close to her and she instinctively took a step back at his vehemence.
“Children.” Padraig’s voice cut through the silence. “And you are children, especially to someone as old as I. You need to cease this.”
“Cease what?” V’s brow furled in puzzlement.
Padraig took their hands in his gnarled ones. “Fighting. A house cannot be divided. You are about to take on a huge responsibility—and must work together, not against each other. Marriage is work; it’s about compromise and respect. It’s possible, believe me. I’ve been happily married for a very long time. It’s not without its lumps and bumps, but that’s life.”
He turned to Noli and continued. “Stiofán is correct, Your Grace. You need to make a good impression, and the both of you being united will go far in sending a strong message. But Stiofán, no one is perfect, and Magnolia, you’re capable of far more than you give yourself credit for. Believe in yourselves—and each other.” He squeezed their hands and released them. “Now, I’m going to check on the seneschal. I’ll leave you to patch things up before we begin.”
With a little bow, he exited the room, leaving her and V completely alone—the guards positioned outside the antechamber.
“I’m not perfect,” Noli whispered, Padraig’s words giving her strength. “I’ll never be the perfect queen, though I hope to learn to be one who does a good job, but … ” She turned away. “I don’t want you to hate me because I’m not perfect and I don’t want to hate myself.”
“Noli.” V’s arms wrapped around her from behind. “How could you think that?”
She spun around to face him, still in his arms, their faces very close. “Because for the past few days every word that comes out of your mouth is negative. According to you, I’m not doing a single thing right—and that hurts on so many levels.” Her face contorted in pain but this time she didn’t look away. “Everything’s different now. All my plans … they’re gone. I’m scared and confused. I … ”
Before she could finish, his lips covered hers, swallowing the rest of her words.
Noli pulled back, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare think that you can just kiss me and make it all better, Steven Darrow.”
“Why not?” For a moment V looked innocent … boyish.
Her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed. “I … I’m sorry I told Elise. I was just so angry.”
“I’m sorry, too. I should have told you everything that first night.” His arms brought her to his chest and she could feel his heart thumping, even through all his layers.
“Yes, you should.” She rested her head on his shirt, which was both soft and scratchy. “But I forgive you. Can you still love me even if I’m not a perfect queen? It doesn’t mean I’m not taking things seriously, it’s just … ”
“Of course I love you.” His lips brushed the top of her head. “And I’m sorry. You’re right—I should be more supportive. I’m used to this life, but you’re not. I thought that if I didn’t turn you into the perfect queen then it might ruin everything. But … ”
He held her at arm’s length, catching her in the snare that was his gaze. “I also don’t want to ruin us. What we have. I had this image of everything in my head. You’d think I’d know by now that even the best-made plans go astray. It’s going to take some time, but I think we can be excellent rulers without being perfect. I’m not perfect, so I shouldn’t hold you to perfection either. This is going to be a big job and it’ll be much easier if we work together. Padraig is right about that.”
“I agree, and I’m going to hold you to all that you just said.” The words went far in easing her heart. She leaned forward and captured his lips with hers in a long and lingering kiss, continuing it even when the door opened.
“Ugh, you, two,” James muttered. “At least you’re not fighting.”
Steven broke off the kiss and ran his hand down her face. “I’m sorry this isn’t your dream wedding. Things are different here. And, being a guy, I didn’t truly understand how much weddings mean to mortal girls. I promise I’ll give you your wedding with all the trappings. Your mother can make your dress; Jeff can walk you down the aisle—”
“And Vix can follow you with her pistol.” James laughed.
“Do you forgive me?” V ran his hand through her un-bound hair.
“Only if you forgive me.” She kissed him again, this one fleeting. “We can do anything together—including run a kingdom. The best things are a bit unconventional, don’t you think? Different isn’t always wrong.”
V’s face broke into a grin as he slowly shook his head. “No, it’s not. I have a feeling that before too long things in the Otherworld are going to change—and different is going to be exactly what we need.”
“No more secrets?” she asked.
“Um … .” V’s cheeks flushed. “Wemightbealready-married.”
“What?” She tried to make sense of his words.
James chuckled in the background.
“Remember when I asked you to marry me? Right after you took the court, when she spoke to us?” His entire face went red.
She nodded, recalling how powerful the magic had been.
“We don’t actually have engagements. That was how you marry someone here. What we’re doing now is just a public ceremony—though sometimes you do both together.” His eyes went wide. “Please don’t hate me. I tried to tell you and you ran from the garden. I was afraid that if I didn’t do it right then, Tiana would forbid it.”
Noli drew a finger down the scar on her palm, remembering
the moment. “It seemed like an awful lot of magic for an engagement, and it makes sense why what we’re doing feels so … ceremonial. And no”—she took his hand—“I’m not mad. I’m glad you told me.”
V caressed her face. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” They were married by magic? Well, it wasn’t actually the strangest thing to happen to her. In a way she was glad, and she understood V’s reasoning.
The door opened again and Padraig walked back in. He gave them a long look. “Is everything better now?”
“Yes,” they replied in unison.
Padraig gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Now, if you’ll come with me, we have a coronation to attend.”
The music started and Noli gulped, trying not to shake as she stood by the throne room doors. She looked toward Padraig, who stood at the very back of the room by the throne. He nodded, indicating it was time.
The long train of her gown was carried by a group of little girls in pale
green—one from each of the great earth court houses. Two men flanked her, one carrying her crown, one a sword; each item on a green pillow. Lord Adair, the one who wanted her throne, was carrying the sword. Having him walking next to her with a weapon did nothing to quiet her nerves.
As practiced, Noli walked slowly down the aisle, trying to smile but not look around. This was it. She wished V was by her side, but he wasn’t. Not yet. That came later.
The walls of the cavernous throne room were swathed with tapestries depicting the history of the court. The room was packed with people, some of whom she’d never seen the likes of before. Many wore earth court colors, but it was easy to pick out the delegations from the other courts. Queen Tiana and her entourage had the best seats.
Noli resisted the temptation to look for the dark court. However, she found V and James sitting with the House of Oak. It was too bad Elise wasn’t permitted to attend. She’d probably love it, not to mention she should be helping to carry the train.
At the very back of the room was a high dais. On it sat a single chair—the old, wooden, intricately carved throne where the ruler of the earth court had sat for as long as there’d been one.
When she reached the dais, Noli stood in front of the throne but didn’t sit, as instructed. The men with the crown and sword took their positions on each side of it.
An elaborate cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, and then she sat down. The little girls arranged her train and stepped back. The music stopped, the room falling into an eerie, reverent silence. Padraig stepped forward to address both her and the crowd. A crowd which focused their full attention on her. The high queen smirked and Noli’s heart pounded in her ears.
Padraig spoke in what V termed “the high language”—a language so old it was practically lost, used only in ceremonies such as coronations. According to V, even the scholars at the Academe had problems translating texts in the language.
Part of why she’d been having trouble with the parts she had to say was because pronouncing the language proved difficult. Also, though Padraig had given her an overview, the idea of saying something without knowing exactly what it meant made her uneasy.
Fragile Destiny (The Aether Chronicles) Page 22