Page 148 of Song of Her Siren

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lady Felicity Frensia

Northeastern Delfi, Maiden Manor

After tucking our youngson in bed, my mates and I dined by candlelight in our walled garden while inhaling the scents of lavender and honeysuckle, mixed with the salty, damp air on this particularly cloudy night. The smell of rain in the air grew heavier as the night progressed, though I also scented something else—blood? That couldn’t be right. A storm was surely approaching, though the bloody tang in the air was probably just my emotions playing tricks on me after our ordeal in that tower.

Though our meager meal of salted cod and greens was peasant fare compared to the extravagant food at Malvolia’s castle, it was more than enough for me. My mates were alive, albeit Steffan’s wings were a mangled mess. At least we’d lived through our harrowing ordeal. For that, I was thankful. I’d never again take for granted our modest home, Maiden Manor, overlooking the nearby village of Maiden Rock. It was named after the lone, rocky island off the coast where maidens row boats through treacherous waters to offer sacrifices of food and flowers to the goddess, Kyan, in exchange for the hope of finding their fated mates.

A decade ago, I had snuck away from the estate and braved the treacherous waters (that I calmed using my magic) to offer a sacrifice of my most favorite honeysuckles in hopes of finding a mate. The goddess must’ve been pleased, for she sent me not one, but two fated mates the following year. Three years later, the goddess gifted us with a son, a rare occurrence in the Noble Fae world to conceive a child so soon after marriage. Instead of showering our child with attention, we left him alone on this desolate estate in hopes of inheriting Cousin Malvolia’s throne. How foolish we’d been. Now, my family and I were alone at Maiden Manor, cast out by Malvolia and seen as pariahs to all other Fae, hence the reason our guards had fled our service.

Without firemage guards, I worried for my family’s safety. We could find no guards among the neighboring village, since all able-bodied firemages answered Malvolia’s call to converge in Delfi, leaving the Eastern Coast defenseless, should demons attack. My mates assured me the demons would come from the Periculian Mountains, attacking Abyssus before heading for Sorel and Delfi. What would they want with our small estate with rocky soil and a mix of brutal northern and eastern winds? We had no golden fields of grain, like our neighbors to the south at Elisi. We had only choppy waves that battered our shores at the northeastern-most tip of Delfi. Our little barren estate was only rendered habitable because of our small fishing trade and harvests from Elisi.

Our old housemaid, Dotty, appeared to refill our wine goblets, the crook in her back rendering her permanently bent while she held the jug against her ample bosom. “I apologize for the meager meal,” she said while walking around Steffan to me.

I surreptitiously eyed Steffan, who rarely spoke these days, choosing instead to look to the sky, smiling softly as the sun’s rays added more flame to his auburn hair and the dusting of freckles on his face while his limp and twisted wings hung like broken sails behind him.

“Don’t,” I said, grasping the older woman’s arm. “It’s more than enough. And I appreciate you cooking it for us and...” My voice broke as I looked away. “And for staying.” Besides Teddy’s nursemaid, Dotty was the only other servant we had left.

Dotty bowed so low, I feared the old woman would tip over. “My family has served the Frensia family for centuries, and we will continue to do so.”

“Thank you.” I stood, taking the wine jug from her. “That will be all. You have the rest of the evening off.”

The woman flashed a crinkled, toothless smile. “Thank you, My Lady.” Not needing to be told twice to put up her feet, she made an awkward curtsy and promptly disappeared.

I set the wine on the table and sat back down, scooting my chair closer to Steffan’s. “How are you feeling, darling?” I grabbed his warm hand, threading my fingers through his. At least his fire magic still worked, though I worried he might never fly again.

He looked at me as if waking from a trance, a soft smile etched into his features. “Don’t fret about me. My family is safe, and I can feel the ocean breeze on my face. That’s all that matters.”

Geoffrey straightened in his seat. “We will find a green witch to heal you,” he said to his brother. “I will fly as far south as Sorel if I have to.”

Steffan leaned back in his chair, acting as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “No one will come now that Malvolia has put the word out that we’re pariahs.”

Geoffrey jumped to his feet, ruffling his wings as he paced the gravel. “Brother, I will not give up until I find you a healer.”

Steffan shrugged. “My wounds will heal over time.”

Why was he being so indifferent about this? Didn’t Steffan want to get better? What was a firemage without his wings? Emotion tightened my chest. “But what if you never fly again?”

He leaned toward me, squeezing my hand, his eyes misting. “What care I to fly when I have all I need right here with my family?”

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