Page 26 of Arise the Queen
The city itself was a spectacular achievement nestled so deep beneath the earth, unperceived by the mortal world. Crafted from precious metals and gleaming with silver and gold, like everything else she had encountered here, its radiance emitted a supernatural glow. But this gold was not ordinary gold. It appeared to be imbued with some ancient Fae magic, allowing it to emit a warm, soft luminescence that bathed the landscape with a perpetual light.
The buildings themselves were architectural marvels, with intricate designs that mimicked the natural world. Towers twisted like vines, spires bloomed like flora, and the walls were all adorned with delicate filigree patterns that also shimmered with light.
The pathways were paved with gold-veined crystal, which enhanced the light and created a sparkling mosaic underfoot.
Winding through lush gardens that grew incredibly beautiful without the aid of sunlight and flowered with plants that only added to the city’s brilliance. Unique to theunderlands, these plants bore leaves and petals that were imbued with a natural bioluminescence, blooming in radiant hues of blue, purple, and pink, and casting a gentle light that complemented the golden glow of the city’s surroundings.
Copper butterflies with wings that shimmered like molten metal flitted through the air along with herpiskies.
Living like celebrated guests, deer with antlers of pure light wandered throughout the parkland, adding to the mystical ambiance. And the closer they came to the palace itself, the brighter the light…
Rivers of liquid light flowed throughout the city, their silvery currents providing a sense of serene beauty. And all those waterways were spanned by elegant bridges made of gossamer threads, strong but delicate in appearance. Adding to this light source were the Fairy flames Málik had so oft produced. They wafted about, illuminating where they pleased and creating a wonderful display of light and shadow. And finally, the palace at the heart of the city was an awe-inspiring structure with sweeping arches, domed ceilings, and untold windows.
Runes and symbols—the same as she’d spied in Arachne’s lair—were etched into the structure, warding the place from the outside world.
Gwendolyn felt like a blemish on this land, and the looks she received only reinforced this feeling. Hundreds upon hundreds of Fae stood watching as the guards marched her through their city—a few with arms crossed, some openly hostile and others shaking their heads over the wonders of human arrogance.
And truly, what had Gwendolyn expected?
Why should she ever have believed this would go the way she wished?
Why had she, for even one moment, trusted Esme or Málik?
Most ill-considered, why had she trusted that Púca and thosepiskies—simply because thepiskieshad once bothered to warn her aboutspriggans?
For all Gwendolyn knew, they’d been tasked to keep her alive so she could arrive here and face her doom at the hands of their king.
Confused, bereaved, Gwendolyn pondered her situation until one of the Fae soldiers crept up behind her, shoving her more rudely than even Málik had done when pushing her through the portal. Apparently, Gwendolyn wasn’t walking fast enough to her doom. By the Ancients,it was all she could do not to round upon the soldier and remind him who she was! She was not some lump of offal to be abused. Even Locrinus, for all his disrespect, had never ignored her. And meanwhile, these creatures seemed unwilling to acknowledge her presence, but Gwendolyn had every inkling that they were very much aware of her every breath, and if she only dared to think of escaping, they would seize her faster than she could blink.
Without a word, they marched her through the gates, straight into the King’s court. And once there, instead of parading her before the King himself, they tossed her into a gilded cage, then slammed and locked the door.
That was where she stayed, like a bird in a cage.
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Every facet of the Fae court appeared to create the illusion of nature, with a careful balance of light and darkness, and every element artfully choreographed to mimic a world the Fae had been denied.
The walls were adorned with intricate scenes of sprawling forests and majestic mountains, complete with flowers and cascading waterfalls. The air itself carried the faintest hint of blooming flowers and the freshness of a summer rain.
The ceiling was a mural of white, fluffy clouds with endless blue skies, and, much like Arachne’s lair, the cycle of night and day could be witnessed Above through a distant aperture so high over their heads that it was impossible to actually see it, although night and day were captured by intricate patterns of gold and silver inlaid throughout—as though the sky itself were brought Below and, as night fell, the hall sparkled by starlight.
Even Gwendolyn’s cage was unspeakably lovely, although if anyone cared to look within, they would see the fire of vengeance burning in her eyes.
Huddled within her beautiful cage, she pressed her cheeks against the bars, her nose protruding without, like one of thosepoor, sad prisoners her father used to parade through the streets by tumbril. And, indeed, as once they had, Gwendolyn longed to shake her bars in a show of temper and protest. But, alas, she knew that would gain her nought. There was little she could accomplish here unless she swallowed her pride. Despite Arachne’s warning that she could not sway the Fae king, she still hoped she might.
At the far end of the hall sat a massive throne, wrought from silver and gold and encrusted with precious stones, its opulence beyond human imagination. Even empty as it remained, it held an unmistakable aura of authority.
The hall was quickly filling with curiosity seekers, who’d come perhaps to witness a spectacle—amortal queen who’d dared to overestimate her worth.
Sadly, Gwendolyn’s situation had never appeared more hopeless.
Feeling confused and defeated despite her growing fury, her head swam with all the stories she’d been told—too many to untangle.
If only there were not some tiny thread of truth she recognized intuitively.
Slowly, but surely, she remembered—though not quickly enough, because here she sat, imprisoned, and in absolutely no position to barter with the Fae king.
So then, where to go from here—what to do?
