Page 23 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
“There. I suppose that’s easier than lying down, huh?” The elf’s ruddy, wind-chapped cheeks rose as she grinned again, her gleaming teeth slightly crooked. She turned back to stare ahead and steer the dreki, her long braid continuing to lash from side to side.
Kolfinna wasn’t accustomed to the elves or fae speaking to her; they usually cast strange, dark looks her way whenever theysaw her, or they simply ignored her existence—they probably didn’t know what to think of her—but this woman seemed different. She was actually talking to her, laughing with her,smiling. Kolfinna hadn’t even realized how much she had missed this—an amiable conversation. It almost made her forget that they were enemies.
She reminded Kolfinna of Eyfura, somehow. They both had a vibrant energy about them. The kind that pulled people closer.
“What’s your name?” Kolfinna asked, glancing between the woman the other riders soaring through the sky.
“Astrid, Your Highness.”
Kolfinna prickled at the title. “I am not royalty?—”
“You are, Your Highness. You’re the daughter of our queen and our commander!” Astrid threw her another grin over her shoulder, and then shifted the reins so the giant beast turned with the rest of the pack. She then pointed at a mountain in the distance. “See that? I used to fly over that every day on my way to the academy when I was younger! Strange, isn’t it? Even though centuries have passed, some parts of our kingdom remain!”
She was shouting so she could be heard past the winds, Kolfinna was sure, but even if she had whispered it, Kolfinna would have recognized the barely suppressed pain in her voice. A shiver ran down her spine as she stared down at the scenery. At the mountains scraping the sky, the hills of vibrant green and yellow, the tiny houses populating the outskirts of villages. Nausea rolled over her.
“Wait—you said you flew?” Kolfinna asked. “Like, on a dreki?”
Astrid didn’t turn around, her back stiffening. “No.”
“Oh? Then …” The question hung in the air for a while. Kolfinna could see that the elf didn’t have a pair of wings—elves didn’t have wings unless they were mixed with fae, and even then, not all of them did; Rakel didn’t have wings even thoughshe was part fae too. This woman was clearly elf, wasn’t she? The white hair and the no wings gave that away, but her eyes … her eyes were fae.
“Are you part fae?” Kolfinna asked.
“No, I’mfullyfae.”
“But your hair?—”
“I don’t know why my hair is white, but both my parents were fae. My grandparents were fae, and as far as anyone else knows, my family has always been fae.” There was a hardness to her voice that Kolfinna hadn’t expected. The edge of a warrior. Gone were all the smiles and friendliness. It was probably better this way.
She was probably in denial, Kolfinna realized, thinking back to Rakel’s words.Elves are seen as lesser beings than the fae, so most half-elves hate to be seen as half-elf, and would rather be seen asmostly-fae.Maybe Astrid’s parents were mostly fae, but some drops of elf blood had passed down to Astrid and caused her to have white hair. That was the only thing that made sense. At least to Kolfinna’s limited knowledge on fae and elves.
But she was wingless, and the way she wasn’t using shadow magic to remain on the dreki told Kolfinna that she didn’t have elf powers.
“Did you …” An unease rippled through the tense air. “Did you lose your wings?”
Astrid didn’t say anything, but Kolfinna noticed the way her shoulders grew taut. She remembered that Revna hadn’t had wings either, but hers had been cut off during the war, or so she said.
“Losing your wings is a great dishonor,” Astrid said after a moment of prolonged silence. When she looked over her shoulder at Kolfinna, her expression was tight. “A great, great dishonor. And a great … shame. The humans knew that.” She quickly turned away. “They are evil creatures, Princess. I don’tknow why you—” Her voice cut off with emotion and she didn’t speak after that.
Kolfinna’s stomach clenched tightly. The humans had … tortured Astrid, hadn’t they? Chopped her wings off since they knew they meant so much to her. The thought sickened Kolfinna, and yet … she wanted to tell her that the current humans were different.
But as if on cue, her own back tingled and her body trembled. Hilda had tortured her the same as those ancient humans, and she knew the Hunters would do the same if they knew about the fae’s wings. Even if she wished that they were different, she knew that the humans of today were the same as the humans of yesterday.
But the fae and elves weren’t great people either, a small voice whispered in the back of her head. They did terrible things too. They had almost killed Blár. They wanted to enslave the humans. They wanted to eradicate the whole race.
It was better for the fae if the humans won this war. They wouldn’t oppress her or her people.
She furled her hands together through the shadow bindings. She forced herself to remember Blár, Inkeri, Ivar, Herja, Gunnar, Eluf, Eyfura, Nollar, Fenris, Magni … All the people she had met who had been good to her. Who stood by her side to protect her. Who would fight with her.
They weren’t bad people.
She wanted to tell Astrid that there were good people among the humans, but … she couldn’t. Something stopped her.
She pushed those dark, perturbed thoughts away. She didn’t want to sympathize with the enemy, and yet she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the white-haired fae girl.
The army rodethrough the sky until the sun began to wane, then they dismounted in a forest clearing and made camp. The entire time, Kolfinna was bound by shadows and stuck beside the dreki she had ridden on with Astrid. The other fae and elves set up tents, led their drekis to the river to drink, and began preparing food.
“I really don’t think I need to be bound like this,” Kolfinna grumbled, trying to inch away from the dreki as it stretched its long, serpentine body. She could feel the energy from the trees, the grass, and the nearby plants, and that calmed her, but she could also feel Vidar’s oppressive mana thick in the air—a reminder that he was nearby, and that escape was futile. “What if this creature steps on me? Or worse …” She pointedly stared at the creature’s backside.
