Page 63 of Destined for the Fae King

It’s become a master of us all.

Then, I see her. Selena wears all black, of course, but the bright red lipstick and subtle blonde highlights in her hair are new. The sight of her breaks the bonds holding me still, and suddenly I’m one of the women rushing down the pathway toward her approaching figure.

We’ve gone longer without seeing or speaking to one another, but seeing a familiar face, one I love, brings all the emotion of the past weeks to a sharp point that stings at the corners of my eyes. I’ve never felt quite so light as she calls my name before pulling me into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you.” Her grip tightens to bone-crushing before loosening.

“You too,” I reply.

“And us, I hope?” My aunt gives a too-bright smile.

And it is. It genuinely is. Even my uncle with his immaculate air and superior demeanor is strangely comforting. In a world where most everything is strange and new, they’re not. They’re home, and I didn’t realize until this moment just how much I’ve missed it.

“Yes, you all too.” I hug them each before pulling away to poke at my hair and make sure it’s stayed in place. My aunt stands a little straighter, as if she’s surprised by my actions.

“We hope all has been well.” Uncle Mathias inclines his head, making it a question as much as a statement.

I swallow a sigh. It wouldn’t be him if he didn’t get straight to the point. “Of course. We’ve been treated exceptionally well, as I stated in my letters,” I remind him. “And I’ve been honored to spend a good bit of time with the royal family.”

“Hmm,” he muses, a sharp contrast to Aunt Dalia’s exuberant remark at my response or Selena’s eye roll. She’s no stranger to my uncle’s layered conversations.

“Your mom and brothers are doing well, by the way,” Selena says.

If I thought I was light and floating a moment ago, I’m really drifting away now.

“That’s the best news,” I reply. It really, really is. I’d almost been afraid to ask.

“They miss you of course, but they’re proud too, I think.” She shrugs one shoulder and offers a genuine smile.

We don’t have much time to catch up before guards are ushering us back to the king and moving the thick crowds that have formed back to make a pathway between the entrance and the dais. The sky is painted in shades of dark pink fading into dark blue, leaving the floating fae lights to illuminate the encroaching night. The way they reflect off the creatures I can spy in the glass menagerie almost make them look like they’ve come alive. I try to shift my body so that I’m not looking at them as I come to stand with the other women in two arcs on either side of the pathway in front of the dais.

The music changes. Spectators quiet down and turn toward the entrance. At my side, Selena covers her mouth to stifle a giggle, and I grin, wondering if she’s thinking the same thing as me, that this is entirely too much like a human wedding.

Vasilius, Lysandir, and Elaine all rise in anticipation of receiving their guests.

The procession begins, and it only takes a glimpse to know which court is presenting themselves first. The King of the Forest, Rivenean, looks like a druid knight from one of my brothers’ video games come to life. Golden leaves adorn his shoulders like scales, dripping down over the deep green of his attire. Tall, brown leather boots hug up his calves, and even his hair is adorned with a twisting crown of golden branches spotted with emeralds. But it’s not him that I give my focus to. I’m much more curious about the women at his side, his consort and soon-to-be-bride, as we understand it.

Lia Ashmore. A human, just like us. It’s still baffling to me that she didn’t know until recently that she was gifted and now is the future Queen of the Court of the Forest. To say Uncle Matias was a little frustrated by that turn of events is putting it mildly. Not that he would have endorsed anyone from our coven going to the Court of the Forest, much less trying to win the heart of their king. That would have been disloyal to the Court of Fire in his eyes—and that of the elders—and we couldn’t have that. Maybe it’s the idea that there are more gifted humans out there just waiting to be found, that we’re not as special as he’d like to believe. Either way, it’s impossible not to feel some kind of kinship with this young woman I’ve never met.

In many ways, her outfit is a mirror of the king’s. Her gown of dark emerald almost looks like a living carpet of soft moss dotted with small flowers that glimmer in the light. A short, decorative cloak is draped around her shoulders, baring the same golden scale-like leaves as the king’s and bound with a clasp resembling branches. More golden leaves dot her wavy, brown hair, and a small crown of gold and emerald graces her brow.

They stop at the foot of the dais, not far from us, and give a little bow to the royals. A train of forest fae—based on the colors of their attire—halt in their wake and bow more deeply.

“Welcome, Rivenean, King of the Forest, and your ensemble.” Vasilius’s voice booms over the assembly. “Thank you for joining us at this celebration.”

“We are honored to be here after many years apart,” Rivenean replies. “I hope that this will be a new start for our courts.”

“Indeed,” Vasilius inclines his head. “I look forward to speaking with you more soon.” Confirmation and dismissal. The Court of the Forest has been mostly isolated until recently. Something about age-old feuds and lack of trust between Seelie courts. It’snice that Vasilius invited them, that maybe old bridges are starting to mend.

Next comes the Court of Water. Of all the courts invited, this was the one most expected to accept the invitation, and the king’s advisors were not wrong. Opposing elements, they may be, but relations with the Court of Water have been pleasant and steady for a long time, or so my research showed. Balanced, one might say. The Queen Mayania leads the procession with her daughter and heir. The sight of them literally takes my breath away. Maybe it’s their long navy hair or their similar gowns that appear to be woven of iridescent scales that shimmer in a rainbow of colors. But it could also be the way that water droplets appear to hang suspended in the air around the queen. Any way around it, they’re truly a sight I won’t forget.

The last court to be presented is the Court of Air. I’d be lying if I said this isn’t the one I’m most curious about. After all, this is the court Lysandir visited to try and earn his wish, one I still don’t know the details of. And he lost, to the human woman who now walks at the side of the king. Wren.

I hazard a glance over my shoulder at Lysandir. His gaze is fixed squarely on Wren. The wide smile he grants her as she approaches causes my stomach to clench. My body doesn’t seem to care that he’s not mine or that she’s definitely with the King of Air. Reason has nothing on jealousy. Could she be the woman he gave his heart to? Though he made it sound like it was a long time ago, and the competition where he met her wasn’t long ago at all.

It probably doesn’t help that she’s wearing a navy dress with a slit at the front that plunges far lower than mine or that the light, gauzy material of the skirts of her dress hint at the shape of her long legs beneath. And that’s to say nothing of her shining goldenhair and the broad grin she gives Lysandir in return that lights up her whole face.

Compared to the other kings, Sigurd, King of Air is more restrained in his attire, all well-fitting dark grays, navy, and hints of silver in a long coat that ends past his hips and breeches tucked into boots. Honestly, his outfit isn’t too far a cry from my uncle’s. His crown is simpler too, just a silver band, but it’s the confidence he wears like a second skin that gives away his title. He doesn’t need an elaborate outfit to impress, and the hint of a smirk on his lips says he knows it too.

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