Page 11 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
An unexpected hope bloomed in her chest. Maybe this was all a big misunderstanding. Maybe?—
“The magic hasn’t worn off in all these centuries,” Vidar mused, so softly she almost didn’t hear him. He took a step closer and before Kolfinna could stagger away from him, he touched her with a single finger on her forehead. All at once, a rush of mana violently forced itself into her. White hot pain blinded her and she screamed, falling back as something broke inside of her. Her mana, which was usually so calm, convulsedfiercely. Like something was cracking the streams of mana flowing through her body.
Her head grew heavier with each passing second and she clutched her forehead to ease the pounding. Her mana seemed to whip inside her, ebbing and flowing with such force that she wanted to throw up.
She hadn’t even realized she had fallen to her knees until the pain slowly eased. She released a shuddered breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands went to her ears almost immediately, and she hissed back in pain when her finger brushed against the now-pointed tips of her ears. The skin felt raw, sensitive, and itchy.
“What—What have you done?” she whispered.
The sounds all around her seemed clearer—the breathing of the drekis, the stamping of their feet, the wind blowing softly over blades of dry glass, the sneezes from fae soldiers, the amalgamation of voices. She had already been surprised that her hearing had improved after her elven powers had awoken, but now it seemed like it was even more honed than before.
Her ears were no longer rounded.
The realization made the back her eyes burn and prickle.
She was losing herself more and more—first, the hair, and now,this. Soon, she wouldn’t even be able to recognize herself.
Kolfinna blinked away the torrent of tears and lifted her head to meet Vidar’s unfeeling, cruel gaze. “What have you done?”
4
FOUR – KOLFINNA
She could heara bird’s feathers rustling, could hear someone sighing, could hear thezingof someone sharpening their sword against a whetstone. It was too much— too overstimulating and too overwhelming.
She covered her ears with her hands and flinched as they throbbed. Her stomach twisted and she resisted the urge to vomit.
“Aesileif had fae glamour put on you to hide your true ears. I simply removed it.” Vidar’s voice was tight. Uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure why. “Rakel, take her away.”
“But—Butwhy?” She didn’t know what possessed her, but she stumbled toward him as if to grab him and shake him. She stopped short when he turned to her sharply. There wasn’t an ounce of care in his stiff stance. If anything, he looked ready to cut her down.
“Why? You ask such useless questions.” There was a harshness in his voice that she was beginning to grow accustomed to. “You are fae, Kolfinna. This is how the fae look; this is how you’re supposed to be.”
A tear rolled down her cheek and he stiffened once more.
“I hate you,” she whispered, trembling all over. Maybe in rage, maybe in grief at what she had lost, or maybe in mourning, because everything she had thought she knew about herself had been a lie.
Vidar stood very still, the wind blowing against his tall frame. He turned away from her abruptly, seeming to be done with this conversation. “Rakel, take her away.”
Rakel reached forward to grab Kolfinna’s wrist again, but she pulled away before she could.
“I can walk by myself,” she snapped, her voice coming out surprisingly level and heated. She sniffled and wiped her face quickly. She hated them all, but she especially hated Vidar. She climbed up to her feet shakily. “I don’t need you dragging me everywhere.”
The elf woman frowned, opened her mouth to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. “Fine. Come this way.” She waved her forward and they began walking toward the group of drekis they had passed earlier.
Kolfinna could finally breathe now that she wasn’t so close to Vidar. She rubbed her chilled arms slowly, trying to bring circulation back to them—she had to do something to keep herself grounded, because hearing the voices of people talking from dozens of feet away was jarring enough.
“So elves aren’t born with wings?” she asked as they neared the wingless soldiers who, upon closer inspection, all had white hair. Some wore their helmets, but some had them tucked under their arms. She could imagine it was rather stuffy wearing one.
“No,” Rakel said shortly.
“But Vidar?—”
“Ishalf-elf, remember?”
“Right …” She told herself needed to fish for more answers if she wanted to know more about the enemy, but in reality, she truly wanted to know more about her people. “But why was he sosurprised that my wings were cut off? I’m sure he noticed when we first met that I don’t have any.”
Rakel shot her a strange look over her shoulder. “Fae can dematerialize their wings.”
