Page 4 of Destined for the Fae King

Humans may have advanced out of this archaic greeting and formality, but the fae have not. And I didn’t spend endless hours poring over coven records with Selena not to know the basics.

The guards show no reaction to my greeting, stuck as they are in their rigid formality. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. No one else in my party did. But I’d be a fool to think the competition hasn’t already started. Anything and everything I do could be to my favor or my detriment, depending on who sees it and tells someone—say, the king—about it.

“Join hands with one another,” one guard instructs as they come to stand between me and my aunt. “Do not let go until we reach the throne room.”

I cling tightly to the fae guard’s warm hand, my muscles taut in anticipation. The world around us blurs. A little squeak catches in my throat as the trees become one mass of blended colors. The hot and humid air constricts around me. The crimsons, purples, and other darker shades of the vibrant forest slide away like water splashed on glass until only golden tan shades remain. Then other colors rush back in, and the air around us seems to pop like a balloon.

In less than a handful of seconds, we’ve traveled from the doorway to Faery to a massive, domed chamber. Pillars of cream-colored stone streaked with golden tones soar up to a glass roof. Hallways venture off in various directions. More fae guards linger about their thresholds. Before us stands a set of double doors two stories high that have a subtle glow and pulse within like the forest we just left. They must be made of the same wood, which manages to keep a bit of its magic long after harvest.

“Welcome to the royal palace,” the guard says as he releases my hand and steps away.

I all but gape at my surroundings. And this is where I’ll be living during The Choosing. At least, I assume it is. A grin pulls at the corner of my lips. It should be a nice change from the cramped house I share with my mother and brothers. Even the marble floors are streaked with golden veins that catch the light and glimmer like little flames rushing under our feet.

“The throne room is straight through here,” another guard remarks with a gesture at the doors.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“Yes, thank you,” Uncle Matias echoes with an air of dismissive superiority that scrapes against my nerves.

But there’s no time to focus on him. Two other guards stationed near the double doors are already pulling them open, a wave of sound rushing out to greet us.

Selena grabs my hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“Here we go,” she whispers.

Here we go, indeed.

I stand a little straighter, taking in the mass of people—human and fae—beyond. Either more attendees arrived than expected or they plan to cram us in like sardines.

The room is far from small, stretching what must be over half a football field from the doorway and bearing similar characteristics as the antechamber we stand in, right down to the glass ceiling that lets in a flood of afternoon light to dance across those in attendance. It’s the far side, however, that holds my attention as we enter. An empty throne sits on a raised dais with steps leading up to it. It’s so high that the king would sit above the heads of all those standing before him, though he’s nowhere to be seen at the moment. That on its own would demand attention, but it’s the sight beyond that I yearn for a closer look at.

There is no far wall. Instead, it’s open to the elements. Dark green plants spotted with reds and oranges creep in at the edges, but beyond that, in the distance, are hills of golden sand stretching to the horizon.

The sand sea.

I’ve learned about it. Read about the great sand sea as big as our Sahara. But reading about it and seeing a glimpse of it are two entirely different things as I’m quickly learning.

In my reverie, Uncle Matias has managed to launch into a bout of praise for the fae, putting on airs for anyone close enough to hear.

“Come on.” Selena takes my hand and pulls me deeper into the crowd. “Let’s get a drink.” She halts at one of the many tables overflowing with various foods and filled glasses of sparkling beverages

“For someone who has no interest in living in Faery, you sure seem to appreciate it,” I remark.

She shrugs before plucking two champaign flutes off the table and passing one to me. “I don’t have to want to live there to appreciate what it has to offer. Being here for a few hours is tolerable. Being stuck here maybe forever?”

Selena gives a dramatic shiver.

Forever… Right, because that could happen. Not that the king has any real reason to pick someone like me. Even so, the thought turns my excitement on its head. As much as I’ve wanted to be here, to visit and see this world, the thought offoreveris terrifying. I take a healthy sip from the glass, expecting the crisp bubbliness of cheap champaign and nearly choke as a symphony of flavor dances over my tongue. It’s sweet, fruity, divine…and nothing like what I expected. I nearly moan as the liquid finally slides down my throat.

I reallyhavebeen missing out.

I go to take another sip, but Selena lurches forward and stops me with a hand on my arm. “Whoa! Not so much so fast.”

“You think I can’t hold my liquor?” I raise my eyebrows at her, suddenly feeling bolder than a moment ago.

“Oh, I know you can,” she says with a wink, probably remembering one of our many nights out. “But fae alcohol is different than ours. Stronger. At least for us. I’m sure I told you that, right?”

“Oh.” I frown at the glass in my hand. She probably did. I’m sure it’s in my notes somewhere, actually, but with everything else on my mind, I forgot about that. “Probably shouldn’t have taken half of it in one go then.” Especially not if I want to impress the fae andnot make a fool of myself, and my family, all before the contest ever starts.

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