They’re dancing.
“Selkies.”
I whirl to find King Aspen behind me, expression hidden in shadow. My first instinct is to pat my dagger, until I remember tucking it behind my pillow. I clutch my rowan berry necklace and press myself as close to the rail as I can.
Aspen steps forward into the moonlight, then stands next to me at the rail. He’s changed from his suit into a simple pair of dark trousers and a loose linen shirt. The shirt is open at the neck, revealing the golden skin of his upper chest. His expression is different than it was earlier, softer, eyes on the scene below us. “They come here to dance at night sometimes, leaving their sealskins on the rocks while they take the forms of human women.”
As much as I don’t want to speak to him, my curiosity again gets the better of me. “Are they the ones singing?”
“No, those would be the sirens upon the rocks.”
I squint into the night, trying to make out more than vague silhouettes of the creatures.
Silence stretches between me and the king, and with it comes a growing tension. He’s so close I can see the rise and fall of his chest from the corner of my eye. His hand rests on the rail, fingers glittering with red jewels, just inches from my own.
“How do you like it here?” His voice is irritatingly gentle.
That’s all it takes to bring forth my anger. I round on him. “You mean, how do I like this prison you’ve brought me to?”
His brows furrow for the merest moment, then his eyes go steely, lips twitching into a smirk. “I take it you aren’t impressed.”
“Why are you punishing me?”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Answer my question,” I say through my teeth.
“Ask a better one.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re the fae from the wall, I know you are. What did I do to make you so angry that night? Why did you bring me here?”
He shrugs. “I’m sure you know what happened to the previous Chosen. Two girls needed to be brought in their place.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “You think I don’t know? Two other names had already been selected as backup by the council. You chose me by name.”
He nods, unashamed. “Yes.”
“Why? What did I do to deserve this? To be torn from my mother and my home? To drag my sister away from her fiancé?”
“You held an iron blade to me.” He says it less like an accusation and more like an observation.
“You attacked me first! I was defending myself.”
“Are we done?”
“No, we’re not done. I want to know what happened to the girls before me. Why did you have the Holstrom sisters executed?”
Aspen’s expression darkens. When he speaks, his tone is edged with razors. “You haven’t once addressed me as Your Majesty since we began this conversation, nor did you bow.”
I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “What are you going to do about it? Execute me, like you do everyone else who slights you? I’m sure you killed the Holstroms for far less, so what’s the point of toeing the line?”
“You seem to have your opinion set about me and my involvement with the Holstroms. Why bother asking me at all?”
I open my mouth, but all I can think to say is, this is just the way I am. I must have truth. Order. Logic. My life is supposed to make sense. But what do the fae care about logic and order? This place is backwards, upside down, and dizzyingly frustrating. In this strange court, the fae are righteous and the villagers I’ve trusted my whole life are butchers, yet the ruler wears human clothes, serves human food, and expects to be treated according to human custom. It’s enough to make my blood boil.
Instead of saying any of this, I turn to my only available weapon. My words. “I want to know what kind of monster I’m being forced to live with.”
He shakes his head, a sneer curling his lip. “I thought you were smarter when I met you at the wall. I thought you had the sense to fear me.”
I know I should back down now. I should bow. I should apologize. But I don’t. “And I thought you’d have the sense to recall what else you learned about me. I’m prepared, remember? Just try and tear your fangs into me. We’ll see if you like the taste of iron.”
He holds my gaze, and I’m sure he’s going to lash out at any moment. I’m dead. I’m thoroughly dead.
Then a wicked grin shatters his glower, and he throws his head back in laughter. When he returns his attention to me, his eyes are crinkled with amusement. It’s not a comforting sight. “Fangs? What…do you think I want to eat you?”
He laughs again, and a blush creeps up my cheeks as I wait for him to sober. “Nothing I said was that funny.”
“Fangs,” he repeats. “Let me guess. You ingest iron of some sort? I can smell it on you.”
The mention of him smelling anything about me makes my cheeks blaze. Still, I maintain my composure. “So what if I do?”
“I don’t eat humans. I’m not that kind of fae.” Despite his reassuring words, his tone is menacing.
“But there are types of fae who do eat humans?”
“Plenty.”
I hope he can’t see me blanch. “Regardless, I’m not harmless, you know.”
“Yes, but I don’t see that blade of yours. Even so, I could do worse at a distance.”
My breath hitches as I imagine what kind of glamour he wants to force me under. “I’m prepared for that too.”
He lifts his hand and I flinch away, but his fingers fall on the strand of rowan berries. The hair lifts on the back of my neck as he gives them a light tug. “Rowan,” he says. “A lot of good that will do.”
I lift my chin, breathing deeply to keep the trembling at bay. “It will keep you from glamouring me.” For the love of iron, I hope it will. I blink several times for good measure.
“I don’t need to glamour you to make you do what I want. If I wanted, I could make you fear me. Crave me. Love me.”
His words are like a dangerous hiss, making my chest feel tight, like my lungs are shrinking into nothing. “I doubt that.” I cringe at the uncertainty in my voice.
“All I’d have to do is glamour myself. I did it at the wall when we met. You never saw my antlers or anything other than my cloak and my face. You had no idea who I was.”
My eyes flick to his antlers, taking in their size, their sharp tines. I swallow hard. “Yet I still charged you with a dagger.”
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us until I can feel the heat of his body. My eyes are locked on his chest as I press myself closer to the railing. There’s no farther I can go without launching myself over the edge. “Look at me.”
I don’t know why I obey, but I do. Whether it’s madness, stupidity, or something else, I want to look at him. I want to see what he can become. My eyes find his—a rich dark brown I can barely make out in the moonlight. A curl of blue-black hair falls into them, and I have a terrifying urge to sweep it away from his forehead. My breaths are growing ragged, shallow, the smell of his skin and clothes invading my senses, a spicy herbal aroma like rosemary and cinnamon as well as something earthy like fresh leaves. I try to hold my breath and avert my gaze, but that only shifts my attention to the curve of his lips.
He’s beautiful, the most breathtaking creature I’ve ever seen. My mind reels to comprehend this, and I feel myself losing control, like my feet could fall out from under me at any moment.
A sound comes from somewhere nearby, and I blink a few times. Belatedly, I realized the sound was of someone clearing their throat.
Aspen’s gaze lingers on me before he takes a step away and turns toward the figure standing on the other side of the room. It’s Cobalt.
“I thought I heard voices,” he says. “Wanted to make sure everything was well.”
“All is well,” Aspen says with a note of irritation in his voice. “I was showing our guest the selkies.”
I lean to the side to widen the distance between me and the king.
“And I was just leaving.”
“Come,” Cobalt says with a warm smile, “I’ll walk you to your room.”
I take a few steps away from the king; it’s a miracle I can walk at all with the tremors of rage rushing through me. I pause. Without looking at Aspen, I whisper, “Don’t do that to me ever again.”
I can hear the grin in his voice. “Why? Did you like it too much?”
“I hated it. And if you ever so much as try a stunt like that again, I’ll murder you in your sleep.” I cross the room toward Cobalt, my lie ringing in my ears. I hate what he did. I hate that Lorelei was right, that the fae really can affect us by glamouring themselves. He may not have changed his appearance, but he altered my perception of him, made me see desire instead of danger. I hate that he has that kind of power over me. But during the glamour? I didn’t hate it at all. I loved it. Loved staring at his lips, his eyes. Loved the pull between us, the smell of his skin, the heat of his body.
Rowan berries did nothing to prevent it. Blinking did nothing to stop it. Logic was nowhere to protect me.
That frightens me more than anything.
Chapter Thirteen
Cobalt and I walk side by side in tense silence. The farther we get from the dining room, the easier I breathe. I let the prince lead the way, not even bothering to pay attention to the journey this time. He slows his pace once we enter a familiar-looking hallway and stops outside a closed door. My room, I realize. I’m about to reach for the handle when Cobalt puts his hand on my arm. I flinch from his touch.
He draws his hand back, then faces me. “You shouldn’t be alone with my brother.”
I open my mouth, a spark of indignation heating my core. He may be my husband-to-be, but that doesn’t mean he owns me or my actions.
He lowers his voice. “He’s dangerous.”
My anger cools, realizing he isn’t chastising me. He’s…scared for me. “Can you tell me what happened to the Holstrom girls?”
The prince looks at the floor, shuffling from foot to foot. “I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s my brother.”
“Please tell me. I just want to know what’s going on here.”
Cobalt meets my eyes, lips pressed tight. “Honestly, I don’t know what happened that night,” he finally says. “All I know is that the Holstrom girls were alone with my brother when they…”
“When they what?”
“When they were killed.”
The blood leaves my face. “You mean he murdered them? Then was their charge of treason a lie?”
“I don’t know,” he says in a rush. “Aspen claims they performed an act of treason in his presence, and he doled out justice immediately.”
“Is there no formal justice system in Faerwyvae?”
“There is. Normally, criminals are imprisoned until they can stand trial before the Council of Eleven Courts. But if any ruler of the Eleven Courts sees fit to execute swift punishment, they may do so. It’s rare though.” He lowers his voice further. “And even though it was his right to do so, I think it was wrong. His actions nearly caused us to break the treaty. Luckily, the council was able to convince him to try another set of girls.”
I hate the way he says that, try another set of girls, like we’re nothing more than a pair of trousers for the king to wear or discard. “No one knows the supposed reason the Holstroms were charged with treason?”
Cobalt shakes his head. “There are rumors that the girls tried to kill him, but there’s no proof, and Aspen won’t share the entire story.”
Probably because he can’t lie. If the girls really did try to kill him, then it had to have been in self-defense. But even that is hard to believe. Theresa and Maryanne have always been the most timid, dutiful daughters in all of Sableton.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” Cobalt says, brow furrowed.
His concern makes me uneasy, both the depth of it and the affability with which it’s bestowed upon me. We’ve hardly spoken since we met, yet somehow he seeks to protect me. To care. Perhaps not all fae are as monstrous as I thought.
Still, his gaze makes me uncomfortable, his nearness reminding me too much of what it was like to be enraptured by his brother’s glamour. “I’ll be careful,” I say, moving to my door.
He offers me a bow, and I return it with a curtsy. I watch him stroll down the hallway and out of sight before I slip into my room. As I close my door, I’m almost certain I see a dark figure looming at the other end of the hall.
* * *
My sleep is fitful, but I do finally manage to catch a few hours of rest. When I wake, it’s to the subtle sound of birdsong, an oddly harmonious blend of gull cries, raven caws, and songbird melodies coming from every direction around the palace. The lilting tunes are both familiar and strange, reminding me of the siren song last night.
That, of course, brings more unpleasant memories—the king, his closeness, my loss of control, his brother’s warning.
I can tell it’s morning by how the sunlight blazes upon my eyelids, but I don’t want to open them to confirm it. Perhaps if I keep them closed, the day will never proceed, and I won’t have to leave this room. I smother my face in my pillow, then reach my hand beneath it until my fingertips touch my dagger. Safe. I’m safe. I’m in control.
I feel the weight of the bed shift next to me, followed by a peaceful sigh. “This is the most luxurious bed I’ve ever had the pleasure to lie in,” comes Amelie’s voice.
“How many beds besides your own have you lain in?” I tease, my words muffled in my pillow.
“Not nearly enough.” Her tone is wistful. “I should have taken Magnus to bed, or at least behind the stables after he proposed. Can you believe Bertrand is the last man to have his hand down the front of my corset? What an unpleasant fact!”
I’m surprised she’s able to speak of such matters so lightheartedly. It wasn’t more than a day ago that she was sobbing uncontrollably over leaving home. Finally, I roll toward my sister and open my eyes. I flick her on her shoulder. “I thought you liked Bertrand!”
“Well, I did. But that was before Magnus.”
“And now?” I ask. “Would you marry Bertrand if it meant we could go back to the way things were? Before we were sent here, I mean.”
Her eyes unfocus, smile slipping from her lips, but she doesn’t reply. She rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling. I follow suit, noticing for the first time the canopy of red and gold leaves painted there in hyper-realistic detail.
Another sigh escapes Amelie’s lips. “Do you think we could come to be happy here?”
I turn my head to face her, shocked at her words. “Happy? Here?”
She blushes, then rushes on to say, “I mean, I don’t think I’ll ever love the Stag King. He’s too mean. But…do you think this arrangement could come to be worth it? This beautiful palace, these amazing luxuries. They’re all ours!”
I hate to dampen her optimism, but I must be the voice of reason. She’ll only get her heart broken if I don’t. “Ami, we’ve been here less than a day. Just because they fed us, put us in a luxurious bedroom, and gave us an endless supply of gowns doesn’t mean we’re safe. The fae are dangerous.”
“I know.”
I sit up. “Do you, though? Do you have any idea what they’re capable of, what they could do to us?”
She gives me a pointed look. “I know more than anyone what they’re capable of, Evie. But what if all fae aren’t…well, you know. Evil?”
“If you’re thinking the fae here are worthy of your trust, you should reconsider. Have you forgotten what they did to the Holstrom sisters?”
She rolls her eyes. “No, of course I haven’t.”
I open my mouth to say more, to tell her what Cobalt hinted at last night, but I stop myself. I want her to be smart, not terrified. Instead, I say, “You need to be careful with King Aspen.”
“Yet another thing I already know.”
“Really careful.”
She stands from the bed and faces me wit
h her arms crossed. “Why must I be careful while you get to go on acting the same way you always do?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw the way you looked at King Aspen. You could have melted iron with that scowl, and he noticed too. But did you lose your head? No.”
“True, but King Aspen isn’t my husband-to-be. He’s yours.”
“More of a reason for you to be careful, not me. Surely, he’d prefer his fiancée to remain alive.”
“He didn’t seem to mind murdering his last one.”
“Murder!” She gasps, eyes growing wide. Finally, I’ve triggered her fear. “Do you really think…”
“I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to be careful. In fact…” I say, then get up from the bed. Once I reach the dressing table, I begin to rifle through my bag. From the bottom, I retrieve my surgery kit. Amelie joins me, peering over my shoulder. I grab one of the smaller knives and face my sister. “I want you to keep this on you at all times.”
She furrows her brow, looking at the knife as if it’s some vile object. “I don’t know how to use it.”
“Take it anyway. I don’t have a sheath for it, so wrap it in silk and tie it to your waist or around your thigh.”
She presses her lips tight. I imagine she’s considering how she can follow my instructions without them interfering with her clothing choices. Reluctantly, she takes the knife. “Are you going to carry one too?”
I go to the bed and pull my belt and dagger out from behind the pillow, then begin strapping it around my thigh. “I’ve been wearing this since we left home. Now, let’s get dressed before Lorelei comes to wake us. We don’t need her to see what we’re hiding.”
Amelie watches me as I finish strapping the belt. A mischievous grin plays on her lips. “Will you be wearing a dress then?”
I pause, realizing a dress will provide the only easy way to reach the dagger while hiding it from view. “I suppose.”
She squeals, then runs to the wardrobe. “I’ll pick one for you.”
We finish dressing just before Lorelei knocks, once again barging through the doors before we can tell her to enter. This time, Foxglove follows in her wake.
To Carve a Fae Heart (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 1) Page 8