Page 79 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
“Elin!”
“When I’m queen, I don’t want to see her face ever again.” The young girl gathered her toys and stomped out of the room despite the cries and shouts from her parents, who were too busy tending to their other daughter.
“I-I’m fine,” Aesileif said between her coughs. Blood speckled her pale lips. “I’m fine, really.”
A moment passed, and the images of the three of them slowly faded until Blár and Kolfinna were alone in the room. She stared at the spot Aesileif had been sitting, her dolls still dotted with her blood. Her mind had gone blank, and for whatever reason, she couldn’t stop her body from quivering. Like she was cold down to her bones. And yet, she felt no chill. No heat. Nothing.
24
TWENTY-FOUR – KOLFINNA
“Kolfinna?”Blár touched her back tentatively, and she was brought back to the moment. She bit her bottom lip and turned to him sharply. “We need to keep moving. Maybe we can see more.”
“Are you?—”
“I’m fine,” she mumbled.
She didn’t want to face the war of conflicting emotions broiling within her, so she tamped them down and went to the door Elin had stormed off to. Ripping it open, she expected to find the little girl pouting inside, but there was nothing. Quite literally. Just a void of black.
Kolfinna slammed the door shut, her heart racing; what would have happened if she fell inside? Would she perpetually fall into darkness? An uneasiness stirred in the pit of her stomach.
“Look.” Blár pointed to an arched black doorway beside the hearth. “That wasn’t there before.”
“Is the sword leading us somewhere?”
“Maybe it’s the sword’s memories?”
“But why—why is it showing us—” She couldn’t even say her name out loud. Her throat constricted. Did she really wantto learn more about her mother? It was better to see her as a wicked woman than someone who had her own problems. Someone who wasreal.
Blár held his hand out toward her, a seriousness on his face that she couldn’t ignore, and she slipped her hand in his. He tightened his hold on her, and they went through the door. She waited, with bated breath, for something to go wrong. For them to fall into a void—but the doorway opened to a ballroom. Hundreds of well-dressed people swarmed the hall; the women wore gauzy, beautiful dresses with gems sewn in the material, their bodies dripping with jewels, and the men wore fashionable silk attire with gold, silver, and all sorts of colors that matched their eyes and the glittering scenery.
“What in the world is going on?” Blár whispered from beside her. The door behind them shut with a loud bang, and when they spun around, it had vanished all together.
Kolfinna stared around herself while feeing equal parts awe and unease.
Blár’s mouth grazed the outer shell of her ear, and she shivered, her gaze darting to him as he murmured, “The princesses are up on the dais.”
True enough, the two princesses were on an elevated section at the far end of the room. The king and queen sat on a throne, their faces bright and cheery. Beside them, the two princesses were on a couch. One of the princesses sat straight, her hands folded on her lap neatly, and her bright gold hair wound up into an intricate updo, with jewels interlaced with the braided sections. She was elegant and proud; with a smile that evoked a fierceness akin to fire. Beside her, Aesileif paled in comparison, and not just because her hair was a few shades lighter than Elin’s brilliant gold. Her gaze was downcast, her fingers fiddling together, and her eyes so wide and fearful that she appeared like a mouse trapped in a lion’s den. She was just as frail as she hadwhen she was a child, even though she looked to be Kolfinna’s age at this point.
A strange feeling overcame Kolfinna. This was her mother? The wicked queen? Why was she so … fragile?
It didn’t make sense.
She was known to be evil beyond evil. She’d enslaved hundreds of thousands of humans. She bathed in blood. She … she had so many monstrous stories surrounding her.
And yet, of the two, Elin seemed more determined. More powerful. More … queenly.
“She’s moving,” Blár murmured.
Aesileif descended the dais and entered the throng of dancers and mingling fae; all of them made room for her, and yet they were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay her much attention other than a nod or a polite smile. In fact, most of the people surrounding the dais were lining up to speak to Elin, who smiled graciously at everyone.
A part of Kolfinna wanted to stay and watch Elin; to see if there was a mistake, somewhere, that she was Aesileif after all. But she had a sense that she was supposed to follow Aesileif and figure something out. Because she was sure the cursed sword was showing these memories for a reason.
Kolfinna tugged Blár’s hand as they wove through the thicket of people; she lost Aesileif’s thin frame more than once, but Blár, who stood above most of the fae, led her in the correct direction. Aesileif was headed to the back of the hall, where fewer people were mingling, and where there were doors leading outside.
“She doesn’t exactly seem to exude confidence,” Blár said after a moment.
“I was thinking the same thing. What do you think changed?”
