A Queen Comes to Power: An Heir Comes to Rise Book 2

by C. C. Peñaranda

  “Please? I hardly ever get to go outside the city walls.”

  It was an absurd notion that Tauria would ask Faythe’s permission for anything. She even felt silly for not knowing how to respond as it wasn’t exactly within her authority to tell a princess what to do.

  Faythe hated herself for even thinking it, and she winced as she said, “Are you sure the king won’t mind?”

  The ward waved a dismissive hand. “He’s not my keeper. Besides, he hardly keeps track of where I am anyway.”

  Faythe didn’t know the exact relationship between the ward and the king, or why such a cold-hearted male as Orlon would not only offer sanctuary to the foreign princess, but station her as his ward to be by his side at all times. Perhaps there were more layers to the King of High Farrow that Faythe should reserve judgment for.

  “Well, I have to change into uniform,” she grumbled reluctantly. “Meet me at my rooms in an hour?”

  Tauria squealed in joy, giving a quick nod before turning on her heel and near skipping down the hallway to her quarters.

  Faythe stood in the silent hall until she was out of sight. She was a little apprehensive of allowing her to join in case it put her agreement of freedom in jeopardy. But who was she—or the king for that matter—to tell a grown fae, a royal fae, where she could and couldn’t go?

  Fastening the final button of her uniform jacket, Faythe was giddy with anxious excitement at getting to see her quaint little hut in the outer town again. Her living quarters in the castle were lavish, and she had no complaints with the generous space and soft furnishings. Despite this, it had taken a while to get used to the large, plush bed. She strangely missed the cramped, awkward arrangement of the wooden dwelling she shared with Jakon. Most of all, she missed the soothing nighttime comfort of his breathing and soft snores before she slept. She had spent many painfully restless nights during her first weeks in the castle trying to adjust to the new stillness and silence of her lonely rooms.

  Looking at herself in the full mirror, dressed in the king’s colors, Faythe couldn’t help but feel stupidly nervous to see her friends. What would they think of her parading around as if she were proud to serve the demon with a crown?

  Before she could work herself up and lose her nerve to go, there was a knock at her door. Faythe called for the person to enter, doing a double-take when instead of one body, she spied two entering her bedroom in the mirror’s reflection. She whirled around, raising her eyebrows at Nik who was dressed in a similar attire to her own, like a royal guard. She was about to ask why he was here when Tauria saved her the bother.

  “He passed me in the hall, and I told him about tonight. He insisted he was coming too,” she explained sheepishly.

  Faythe folded her arms. “I thought you weren’t allowed to be seen outside the walls?” She cocked an eyebrow, remembering his excuse for why he was always so secretive during their encounters in the outer town. If only she knew then what his real reason was for going incognito.

  “I’m not going as myself. For all my father knows, Vixon is still out on patrol, and I am simply indisposed.” He grinned mischievously. “You’re not the only one missing the rustic views of the outer town. The inner city can get a bit claustrophobic.”

  Though he teased, Faythe knew he was only insisting on coming along to keep an eye on her and Tauria. She noticed his overprotectiveness extended endearingly to the princess too. Sometimes, the way Nik looked at Tauria, whether the princess saw it or not, held a depth that dropped a sadness in Faythe’s stomach. She never gave the ugly sinking feeling a chance to settle.

  “So, you paid off Vixon to cover for you,” she concluded. His answering grin was all the confirmation she needed. Faythe huffed. “You’ve definitely used that trick before. At least now I know how you ended up at the summer solstice bonfires.” She shot him a playful, accusing look while Tauria’s lips parted in surprise. Clearly, the prince was far more cunning and secretive than even his closest companion knew.

  Nik had risked a lot to venture into the human town and remain undiscovered. Faythe understood why he wouldn’t confide in the ward about those particular antics, at the risk of implicating her too if he were caught.

  The deviance on his face made Faythe’s mouth twitch up in amusement.

  “That was particularly difficult. I had to come up with a perfect excuse to get out of the solstice ball here at the castle and not have someone come looking for me.” He cast a lighthearted smirk at the ward whose tan cheeks flushed a shade of rose as she quickly averted her eyes.

  “There’s really nothing that eventful out there. I don’t know why either of you are bothered.” Faythe grabbed her deep blue cloak with the king’s sigil of a winged Griffin as the clasp across one shoulder—an extension of her prison-wear.

  “Adventure is what you make it, Faythe,” Nik quipped.

  With a roll of her eyes, she answered with sarcastic enthusiasm, moving past them and out the door. “Then the great quest of the outer town awaits.”

  They met the other two night guard patrol, Caius and Tres, by the servants’ exit. At the sight of the prince and the ward, both of them blanched.

  “Keep quiet. Let’s go,” Nik instructed, leaving no room for argument.

  They both hesitated, clearly debating the punishment if the king found out about their added party members. But with a glance at the prince’s stern face, they nodded.

  Nik already had a plan for how he and Tauria would get out of the city unnoticed by the other guards: through the underground labyrinth. Faythe shuddered at her recollection of the dark, grim passageways she had only ventured through once before—with Jakon, in their reckless failed attempt to infiltrate the castle and save Marlowe’s life. She wanted to slap herself for the brash plan that had landed her in the Netherlord’s service.

  Nik and Tauria kept the hoods of their cloaks up and their heads bowed low, trailing slightly behind the patrol. Once they were through the side gate, the two of them broke off to take the inconspicuous route. They would merge again once in the safety of the outer town.

  Faythe followed close to Caius, diverting to take the main street out of the city. Only now did she feel riddled with anxiety. She subconsciously adjusted the clasp of her cloak, all too aware of the flood of royal blue. Paired with the rounded contours of her ears, she felt as if even the mortar of the pristine white buildings weighed judgment on her.

  All of them stayed silent as they marched through the inner-city streets, and Faythe was grateful for it. Her throat became hideously dry as she craned her neck to gauge the full height of the dauntingly tall dwellings. She had only ever admired the gleaming city from afar, and never in her lifetime did she think she would stroll so casually across the smooth paths. Her nerves were momentarily subdued by her awe. In stark contrast to the uneven, harsh cobbled streets of her human town, the ground here was level and clean. She almost felt as if she were gliding.

  Every now and then, she had to hurry her steps to catch up with the guards after she slowed to take in the marvelous beauty. She tried not to pay attention to the few fae they passed, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she felt her confident poise falter every time she caught their wrinkled glances of distaste and confusion. It made Faythe feel horribly out of place. She wanted to shrink out of the blue attire and dissipate into the wind.

  She noticed the flickering lapis flames that danced in ornate, floating white baskets along the sides of the buildings—something she had found oddly alluring the first time she saw the obscure color of the fire months ago. She turned her head to Caius.

  “How does the fire burn blue?”

  He glanced at the baskets. “Firewielders,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing. “They create flames that give off heat but don’t require wood or coal to keep burning. They won’t go out without their command.”

  Faythe raised an eyebrow in curiosity at the eternal flames forged by those with the elemental gift of fire. She wondered just how man
y different abilities there were, impressed by each new talent she discovered. She was lost in this city of magick and perfect sculpture. Not a lick of paint was tarnished, and there were no discarded crates or really anything out of place on the immaculate walkways. It was beautiful…yet artificial.

  When they reached the wall and stepped under the archway, it was as if someone had snuffed out all the lights, leaving only the dullness of the grim, tattered brown town. However, it allowed the glittering stars to shine confidently against the dark night sky without competition. Below them, Faythe had to blink hard a few times to adjust to the change in luminance. She never realized just how cold and run-down her dreary town was. The sad, worn buildings and orange glow of the torches made it look all the more impoverished in comparison. It wasn’t high and lavish like the inner city, but it held a humble warmth and comfort that welcomed her home.

  Faythe and the two guards fell quiet again as they ventured down the nostalgic streets she grew up in, the ones she was confident she could find her way through if anyone took away her sight. She didn’t know how far behind Nik and Tauria were for taking the underground route, but she kept calm as she waited for them to make their appearance.

  “What do you usually do out here?” she asked Caius out of curiosity as they weaved through the uneven paths.

  “We have to do the rounds. Mostly just check up on the main parts of town, make sure everything’s in order. It usually is and can be pretty boring,” he answered simply.

  Caius had a wonderful way of humoring her questions without any judgment or irritation. She felt relaxed around him, knowing his friendliness toward her wasn’t fake because he feared her for what she could do or because of her status to the king. It was genuine, and he was invaluable as a friend among the guard ranks, knowing how to ease her nerves.

  A sharp whistle stopped Faythe dead in her tracks. She jolted back to look down the alley to her left. Nik’s eyes were bright, his smile amused at her obvious fright. She refrained from whacking his arm in annoyance when he and Tauria emerged from the shadows to join them.

  The prince turned to the guards. “You two carry out your duties. We won’t be far, and we’ll find you when it’s time to go back.”

  Caius’s eyes darted between Nik and Faythe, and she could see he wanted to protest. He was likely under strict orders to keep an eye on her at all times. Faythe thanked the Spirits for Nik’s presence then. He knew her intention was to divert from the patrol to seek out her friends, and his influence took the task of persuasion off her shoulders. Thankfully, Caius said nothing, giving a short nod of understanding.

  Faythe didn’t waste any of the precious time she had been granted. She turned on her heel to take the street to her right with the prince and ward in tow while Caius and Tres continued straight on. Reaching her destination in a few quick minutes, she paused outside the familiar crooked brown door of the hut, heart wild with nerves, wringing her hands.

  “What’s wrong?” Nik asked softly.

  She wasn’t sure how to answer, caught up in a mixture of joy and sadness at seeing her home that felt strangely foreign all of a sudden. Then, thinking of her two friends inside happily living their lives, which she was about to barge into wearing a guard’s uniform as a completely different person to the one who last stepped inside the feeble structure, she realized she felt guilty for bringing her mess of a life to their door. They could live a perfectly mundane and fulfilled existence without her. It was Faythe’s own selfishness that brought her here.

  “This was a mistake,” she muttered quietly. She turned to leave, but Nik caught her by the shoulders.

  “I don’t need your ability to know what you’re thinking, Faythe. Don’t take that choice from them.”

  Tears nipped her eyes as she met the prince’s green gaze and saw the determination behind it. He wouldn’t let her self-destruct.

  “They deserve better.”

  Nik shook his head. “They deserve a friend who will stick by and fight for them. And that’s what you’re doing by coming here tonight.” His hands fell away, and with that, he left her to make her own choice.

  Faythe slid a look to Tauria who offered a warm smile of encouragement. “I feel as if I already know them from how much you talk of them. It would be a shame not to meet in person now we’re here,” she mused lightly, but in a way that still left the decision in Faythe’s hands, without any judgment.

  She wouldn’t cower, and in that same decisive moment, Faythe banished all thoughts of knowing what was best for Marlowe and Jakon. If they decided they would be better off without her mess and drama, she would respect their choices to lead their lives without her. Until they gave the word…

  She took a deep breath and spun around to the door, rapping her knuckles twice against the wood before she lost her composure. It felt odd to knock, but at the same time, it was no longer her home to welcome herself into. She trembled with anticipation, the coward in her hoping they weren’t even home to save her the emotional stress. Then the unchanging sound of the front door’s creaking hinges being pulled open revealed the disheveled brown hair of her dearest friend.

  Jakon stood silent, stunned, and neither of them spoke for a few painfully long seconds. Faythe waited outside the threshold, giving him the chance to reject her upon seeing her attire and company. Instead, he reached for her hand and pulled her into a tight embrace inside the hut. A small sound of relief came from her, and Faythe closed her eyes to savor his tenderness.

  “Faythe?”

  At the chirp of Marlowe’s voice, Faythe snapped her eyes open to land on the ocean-blue orbs emerging from the bedroom. Marlowe’s smile was warm, and Faythe’s nerves about seeing her after their last somber conversation eased when they embraced.

  “How did you get here?” she asked when they broke apart.

  Faythe glanced behind her at the two fae who remained outside. She quickly beckoned them in, and they obliged as they all shuffled farther into the hut. The small front room was hardly large enough to accommodate them all.

  “Well, you know Nik. This is Tauria.” Faythe introduced them.

  “I’ve heard so much about you both,” the ward said. Then she looked at Marlowe specifically. “You sound like quite the impressive woman.”

  The blacksmith blushed deep crimson and flashed Faythe an accusatory glance. She simply shrugged sheepishly. It was true Faythe had gushed about Marlowe’s many talents and extensive knowledge.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you too,” Marlowe said timidly, having never been in front of a fae female before, let alone a princess. “I’ll make some tea. I’d love to hear more. Faythe is a little sparse with the details.”

  The two of them went over to the dainty kitchen, and Faythe’s heart warmed at the sight of everyone in the room—her unbreakable circle of friends. Family. She looked to Jakon and found him observing her royal blue formal attire, she shifted anxiously, glancing down.

  “A condition of getting to come here.” She felt the need to explain herself at his unspoken judgment.

  Her friend smiled sadly. “I always thought red or green suited you best, but I suppose the blue works,” he mused playfully, and Faythe relaxed, relieved he didn’t hold any resentment toward her for it. “I wish you didn’t have to be tethered to that bastard.” Jakon paused, shooting a look at Nik and muttering a quick apology.

  The prince’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing to scold him for insulting his father, their king.

  Faythe reached out and squeezed Jakon’s upper arm. “It’s only a job. I’m treated well,” she reassured him even though downplaying what she was really used for twisted in her gut.

  Jakon knew everything, but she was glad he never brought it up or made her speak of how she was a silent intruder of thoughts. He’d made it clear to her the night of her birthday that no matter what she was forced to do at the king’s hand, he would never think of her differently. It was a great relief, but also hideously damning, as she felt his words were preemp
tive forgiveness should she ever be forced to do something unthinkable.

  When they turned to make the few strides to the table, Faythe heard Jakon inhale before catching his hand over his abdomen. His rigid posture was a sure giveaway that he was in pain. Her face wrinkled, but she said nothing.

  Faythe and Tauria settled at the small bench in the kitchen across from Marlowe and Jakon. Nik stayed standing, leaning against the countertop behind her—mainly because there wasn’t enough room on the already overcrowded bench, but even if he had a side to himself, Faythe knew he would barely get his legs under the feeble table anyway.

  For nearly an hour, the five of them chatted and caught up on each other’s lives, and Faythe relished in the normalcy. It warmed her heart to see both sides of her friends, fae and humans, getting along so well. It was easy to forget everything that made them different: wealth, status, strength, poise. Right here in the hut, everyone was equal, and it gave her a new beacon of hope for what the lands could be one day.

  Faythe was listening to Marlowe tell a story of a particular client she had worked with recently when she heard Nik shift behind her.

  “Tauria, what’s wrong?” His voice was soft but worried, and he was by her side, peering down at her with a hand on her shoulder, in an instant.

  Faythe’s eyes fixed on the ward who wore a deep frown.

  “Can you not hear that?”

  The rest of them exchanged confusion as they looked to each other in question. It was Faythe who said, “Hear what?”

  The ward slid her gaze to Faythe. “Like whispering…but I can’t make out the words.”

  Faythe raised her eyes to Nik, whose concern increased. He shrugged, not having any idea what was going on with Tauria either.

  “We don’t hear anything,” he answered for everyone.

  Tauria inhaled sharply then, closing her eyes and tilting her head as if trying to tune in to a faraway sound. Nik crouched beside her and took one of her hands. Noting their closeness and the prince’s fixation on her, Faythe put effort into ignoring the pinch in her chest. Not of jealousy, but of a sinking loneliness.