by Riana Lucas
A new sensation consumes me. Anger boils inside of me for a moment, anger at myself for the jealousy I am feeling right now. Reed and Rho obviously formed some sort of relationship, and he must care for her. Now she is dead, and I still suffer a moment of jealousy. Disgusted with myself, I turn in the arms that are still holding me, not simply wanting to avoid the scene before me, but also to hide any betraying features on my face. I could not bear for anyone to witness even a hint of the jealousy I experience, especially Reed. Gideon is holding me, but it does not matter who it is. I pull my arms to my chest and bury my face in his shoulder, continuing to cry. His arms tighten around me, and then his cheek lowers to rest on top of my head.
The comfort helps a little. My sobs begin to slow, and a wave of exhaustion takes over. I am suddenly so tired I fight to keep my eyes open. A few more moments, and I could fall asleep standing up, but the moments do not come. My eyes pop open when I hear a throat clearing behind me, loudly and almost rudely. Gideon loosens his hold on me so I can regain my footing. Once grounded, I turn to face Reed.
His arms are crossed over his chest, making me feel small and weak as I look up into his face. The grief and the anger are clear, both understandable. As I stare into his eyes, his face softens at the sight of mine, and he opens his arms. I push all my jealousy and other thoughts from my head and walk into his embrace. He hugs me tightly for a moment, and I want to cry once again, but I stop myself. There are things to be done now. “We must bury her,” I choke out, barely a whisper.
“I know.” He does not sound any better.
“Will you help me?”
“Of course.”
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before I turn to face the others.
They all formed a tight circle around Rho’s body. Everyone has the same somber expression on their faces. I’m not surprised. Although I just met these fae and they did not know Rho, the death of a fae is never taken lightly. Especially if that fae proves to be noble as Rho was.
“We must bury her.” I intended to say more, but I could not. Thankfully I do not have to.
Holly steps up immediately, “I will help prepare her if you’ll let me.”
I tilt my head and study Holly for a moment. Her sadness is much deeper than the others’. I remember the way she was hunched over Rho when I stepped into the clearing, Rho speaking softly to her. I wonder about this but do not ask. It is not the time or place. Focusing on Holly, I can see how much she wants to do this.
Nodding once, I begin to step toward Rho. Thorne speaks then. “If it’s all right, Princess, Gideon and I would like to assist Holly and take care of Rho for you.”
I open my mouth to refuse. Rho was my best friend; I should do this. But Reed takes my hand and squeezes it to gain my attention. When I look up at him, he says, “Let them do it, Poppy. It will be hard enough for you to watch. Let them do this.” His voice and eyes are pleading so I relent.
As much as I hate to admit it, Reed’s insistence is the perfect excuse I need to allow myself to let go. When I do, I instantly experience relief, my body sagging slightly and the tight knot in my stomach loosening slightly, at not having to be the one to bury my best friend. Taking a step back to stand beside Reed, I nod to Thorne. Holding Reed’s hand within my own, I watch as my new friends bury Rho.
Fae do not use the same customs as humans when it comes to burying our dead. We do not have graveyards, nor do we perform cremations. Our dead are buried where they died, where their body will disintegrate immediately and go back to nature. With the help of a traditional spell, the dirt, roots, grass, trees, and flowers will take them into themselves. This way the deceased fae will live and thrive forever with nature. It is usually a peaceful and honorable time. Although I know it is an honor, I cannot seem to find the peace. Rho’s death is not fair, and I cannot accept it.
I stand between Reed and Willow as Holly, Gideon, and Thorne make the preparations. Holly takes special care with Rho, fixing her clothes as well as possible. With a damp cloth provided by Willow, she wipes the blood from her face and smoothes her hair as best as she can. The tears begin to leak from my eyes once again, but I continue my vigil.
Gideon and Thorne use magic to form a hole in the ground where Rho will be lowered. They also gather a few flowers to bury along with her, lavender for peace, orchid for love, and lotus for remembrance. These flowers will enhance the spell, allowing for a quicker transformation into the earth.
Holly, Gideon, and Thorne are such fierce, deadly warriors, but at this time they are so serene, considerate, and caring. I am so grateful for them at this moment. I will never be able to repay them for the love and kindness they are showing Rho.
Holly looks up at Gideon, and he nods, indicating they are ready. She then glances at me for my approval. I give a quick nod as well. Gideon and Thorne move to either side of Rho and gently lift her from the ground. They try to keep her limbs from hanging too limply, and I am grateful for the illusion. She is sleeping, I tell myself. Resting forever peacefully.
Holly is standing in the hole so she can take Rho from them. She lowers herself, with Rho in her arms, to the ground and out of my line of sight. I wait. Holly takes a moment to arrange Rho once again then lifts her head to find my eyes.
I close them, take a deep breath, and walk toward my best friend.
Looking down into the hole, I view my beautiful, vibrant, gossipy best friend. Holly has done a good job of clearing the blood and fixing her hair. She looks almost peaceful. I smile as all the happy memories begin to play through my mind. I vow to hold on to them and keep them close to my heart forever.
Willow kneels on the ground next to Rho’s resting place and begins to sprinkle a mixture of flowers and herbs over Rho’s body. Then she says the spell that will allow Rho to live forever amid the flowers and trees.
Death has come, but peace remains. Forever amongst the earth you stay.
Willow repeats the spell two more times, each time growing softer and softer until the words seem to flow around us like the magic in the air. I feel a small sense of peace, but only a small one. Then Gideon waves his hand at the ground, and the earth swallows Rho within.
Holly surprises me by stepping in front of Gideon. She places both of her palms together in front of her heart and begins to raise them to the sky. Her eyes are closed, her lips moving in a soft whisper. I know instantly what she is doing. This is traditional for a warrior burial, but Rho was not a warrior. I start to open my mouth to stop her, but her eyes catch mine and I keep quiet. As her palms rise upward, I begin to feel the magic around me stir and raise my eyes to the sky above us. High up, above the trees and into the open sky, there is a shower of bright pink light, almost like fireworks. The color represents Rho, and the display informs all who see that a warrior has fallen. When the display fades, I glance at Holly. “Why did you do that?” I ask her.
Holly reluctantly meets my eyes, but remains quiet as she considers her answer. I almost ask again, impatience getting the best of me, but she holds a hand up in front of her to ask for another minute of consideration. After that minute, she finally answers me.
“Rho was not a warrior in the literal sense of the word, but she gave her life for you, me, and everyone else the king held hostage. She did whatever it took to help us. And in doing so, she not only saved our lives, but she did what no one else in the seelie court has been able to do in all these years…She killed King Foxglove. But the reason she did it is what made her a real warrior. I don’t think Queen Lily would have ever asked us to sacrifice ourselves to get rid of him. Rho did it out of love, not because she was ordered to. While she was lying there on the ground, I listened to her. I heard what she had to say about you. Maybe you aren’t the enemy I thought you were when we first met. You and I will never be friends like you and Rho or Willow, but I won’t despise you anymore. I did this for Rho because she deserved it. In my eyes, she is a true warrior. A person who does what they believe in, no matter the cost.”
> I am stunned into silence and only nod in answer to Holly’s speech. I am touched she would do this for Rho, but I certainly could not put into words what this means to me. Neither of us says anything further as we turn away from each other. Holly’s eyes rake the night sky after she speaks, looking for what I have already located. Just above the spot where Rho’s body has been given to the earth, a bright pink star now shines in the heavens. The magic would not last forever, but it was there, marking the spot where my best friend took her last breath.
Everyone is quiet for a while, staring into the sky at the pink gleam that represents Rho. Gideon finally clears his throat to gain everyone’s attention. “We should be moving. It is dangerous for us to remain in one location for too long. The unclaimed are still around, and right now would not be a good time for a fight.”
We all agree, allowing Gideon to take over as leader. As we make our way back to the seelie court, everyone is quiet. I am unsure of the others' thoughts, but mine are consumed with only one. Knowing Rho is safe now may help me to feel a small amount of peace, but it is not enough. I may have vowed to keep Rho alive in my heart, but I have also made another vow: that Damien would pay for the betrayal that has caused this death.
If Rho can kill the king, then I can kill Damien.
Chapter Nineteen
The time that passed could have been minutes or days. I am unsure how much time passes as we make our way back to seelie territory and are able to shimmer ourselves into the queen’s court. Upon our arrival, servants greet us from all sides. We are checked for injures and ushered into the dining hall for food. It’s still early morning, but I have my suspicions the queen has closed the hall so we can dine alone. More fae should be milling about the court, but I have seen very few.
We all are seated as the queen enters with a flurry behind us. She hugs me tightly, causing new tears to prick my eyes, but I do not let them fall. I numbly sit in the chair beside her and listen as Gideon tells what happened from the time we left, leading up to this point.
I am vaguely aware of her introduction to Reed, the soft murmur of voices during the recount of events, the confirmation of the king being my father, and the apology she offers when she learns of Rho’s death. A part of me recognizes I should be involved in this conversation, especially when she was told about the king. My heart breaks for her over what she must be feeling, and I know I should be near her so we can comfort each other, but I cannot work up the motivation.
My limbs are heavy, and my brain is surrounded by fog. Everything feels blurry and distant. The lull of the voices begins to make my eyelids heavy, putting me to sleep. The next thing I know, I am being lifted and cradled against someone’s chest. The solid form is warm and comfortable, so I snuggle in closer and fall back to sleep.
I wake up later to a quiet, dark room, atop my bed sheets and still dressed in the clothes I travelled in. Eyes half closed, I drag myself out of bed and begin to undress, dropping my clothing to the ground as I make my way to the shower. Turning the water on as hot as I can tolerate, I allow my skin to soak up as much of the heat as possible. Then I cry until I can no longer stand up. Only then do I drag myself back to bed, using magic to dry myself and pulling a random nightgown over my head as I do. Crawling under the thick blankets, I bury myself in my pillow, shutting everything and everyone out. I fall into the first deep and dreamless sleep I have had in a while.
When I wake up later, the room is still dark, but I am not alone this time. I hear a soft, broken hum coming from the corner and recognize the lullaby of the one who took care of me when I was so seriously injured. Peeling my eyes open, I glance up to find Queen Lily sitting beside my bed in a chair she pulled from the corner of the room. She is not aware I am awake yet, so I study her for a moment. Her hands are placed in her lap, clutching tissues and her head is bowed, her back hunched. Although I cannot view her eyes, I do see the tear streaks on her face. This is the first time I have witnessed her looking anything less than perfect. Instead, she appears so sad and vulnerable. As much as I do not like for her to feel this way, I try to memorize how she is now, aware that once she realizes I am awake she will hide her emotions from me. I am not sure why this is so important, but it is. I want to see her as something other than the well put together queen that she usually is.
I roll my head to the side in an attempt to get a better look at her, but it only gives me away. Her hands twitch, and she lifts her head to gaze at me. This is the only change, though. Surprisingly, she does not try to hide the tears in her eyes. A fresh tear leaks from my eye.
“I like that song,” I whisper, “and I am sorry.”
"For what my child?"
"For what the king and Damien did to you."
“Oh, Poppy! There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Her voice is a whisper, comforting and soothing. “You’ve been through so much. I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. I wish…” She trails off, unsure of what to say.
I understand the quiet. There are no words for something like this. Sometimes silence is better.
I bring my hand out from under the blankets and extend my open palm toward hers. She grasps my hand, holding it in her own, humming her lullaby once more, and I am soon asleep again.
***
The smell of food rouses me from my sleep. My stomach grumbles, alerting whoever is near of my hunger. By the giggle from the other side of the room, I know Willow is here. I stretch my hands above my head and reach my toes as far down as I can. My body is stiff and achy from my earlier exhaustion and from the lack of use after being in bed for so long. My muscles protest when I try to sit up, so I flop back down onto the bed, groaning aloud.
“Oh, Poppy! You have to take your time. Give your muscles a chance to work again. You’ve been in bed for two days. They must be stiff.”
This jolts me right into a sitting position, where I stare at Willow, open-mouthed. Although my body is working again, my brain has not quite caught up yet.
It takes some time, but finally words find their way from my mouth. “Two days?” I ask her incredulously. “How come no one came and woke me up?”
“Well, they tried.” She shakes her head at some secret knowledge before continuing. “The queen insisted you get your rest. She said you would wake when you were ready to face the world again.”
“I am not so sure about that,” I grumble under my breath. The truth is, if not for my treacherous stomach, I would still be asleep. I am not sure if I will ever be ready to face the world without Rho.
My stomach lets out another growl, distracting me from those awful thoughts as Willow hurries over with a tray of food. Sitting up farther and scooting back to lean against the headboard, I reluctantly allow her to place the tray over my lap. Thankfully, all other thoughts leave my mind at the sight and smell of all the heavenly food. The servants are serving vegetable quiche, warm pastries, fresh fruit, juice, and fae wine.
My hand reaches for the wine first. I’m not a huge fan, but I know the effects it can have. The potent drink will make me feel better faster than anything else. As I take a few small sips, I savor them as they coat my mouth and wash down my throat to my stomach. It takes a moment for the heady feeling to take over, calming me.
Only then do I start to devour the food in front of me. I make quick work of eating every last bite, Willow nodding approvingly as I do. When I swallow the final bite of food and lean back with a groan, Willow takes the tray away. She walks over to the chamber door, opening it slightly to hand the tray to someone else. Right as the door is closing, I hear a shout, but Willow ignores the sound and shuts the door.
“What was that?” I ask in concern.
“Oh, that was your halfling. He has been insisting on seeing you, but the queen said it would not be proper. He has been pacing the halls for two days now.” Her words are serious and proper, but the knowing smile betrays her.
I chuckle a little at her lack of subtlety. “He is not my halfling, and he doe
s not like that word. His name is Reed.”
She smiles at me meaningfully, and I turn my face from hers so she does not witness the blush that creeps up. “Oh, I think he is yours. And I am well aware of his name. He has been rather insistent on being addressed by it. He has almost the entire court calling him by his name already.”
We both laugh for a moment. I can picture Reed in my mind, smiling politely or giving the full watt of his brilliant smile as he demands how he is addressed. Either one of those smiles would be irresistible. The other fae never stood a chance against his charm. Suddenly, there is a tingle in my stomach, both of guilt and nervousness. I feel horrible Reed has been so worried, but I’m also scared to face him. I am not sure of what to say to him or how I should act around him. Just thinking about him makes me nervous, how will I meet his eyes and speak to him?
Willow allows my silence for a bit while she moves around the room cleaning up and pulling out clothes for me. Her actions pull me from my worries.
“Willow, you are not supposed to do that anymore,” I groan.
“I’m only helping my friend,” she says softly, sadness consuming her eyes.
“Thank you, Willow. Thank you for helping me save them. Thank you for trying to save Rho, and thank you for being such a good friend.” The tears begin again, and before I realize it, Willow is sitting by my side on the bed, arms around me, crying with me. We sit like this for a while, Rho and all the amazing things she has done for me coursing through my mind, until our tears stop.
“Tell me a good story about her,” she asks. “Just one, before we start our day?”
A faint, watery smile touches my lips, one that eventually turns more genuine as I think of all the great memories Rho and I shared. I begin to tell stories. Not one story, but many—stories about Rho smiling and laughing, telling jokes, our training sessions, our magic lessons, and our banter. In no time at all, we are both crying again, but this time they are tears of joy from laughter, barely sullied by sadness.