Page 134 of A Song of Air
To hear a queen speak so openly about lovers jolted Bryson.
“And yet, the world assumes the Unseelie Court is ruled by a male.” She snorted, took another sip, and her eyes burned on Bryson. “They think a female cannot lead. Yet here I am, and on my throne I have sat for centuries. Do you want to know why that is, Varik?”
“Why?” Her palms grew sweaty as she almost dreaded the answer.
“I have power because I do not suffer men or fools. It is that simple.”
Bryson nodded. “Sage advice,” she said.
“Advice you would do well to take, little blind Fae. Men are useless. They will leash you. My son is no different.” Her eyes flashed again. “He may be the worst of them. Like his father.”
Bryson desperately wanted to ask what had happened with Weylyn’s father, why she hated Weylyn so much, but it felt like prying into a story she shouldn’t. No matter how curious she was, Weylyn was the only Fae she trusted around her, and she wasn’t going to break that trust now. No matter how curious she was.
It didn’t seem to matter what she felt though, because the queen went on anyway.
“Useless. Spineless.” Her eyes flashed again and her hand holding the goblet crushed it. Red wine spilled all over her hand, dripping like blood. “Murdering Fae.”
Bryson’s tongue felt heavy. “Murdering?”
The queen stared at her, though for a moment it felt like she was staring through Bryson and into a past, a present, or a future. She wasn’t sure. Her stare was eerie, entirely Unseelie in its countenance. “Murderer,” she whispered. Then her eyes blinked, seemingly coming back to the moment. “He has not told you? I did not expect him to, I suppose. After all, how can one excuse the crime of murdering their own sister?”
Bryson blinked. “Wh-what?”
The queen’s smile was malicious. Bryson knew, she knew that the words she uttered were meant to unsettle her. They were meant to turn her against Weylyn. They were meant to cause unrest between them. She could not let that happen. But even so the words floored her. Made her head spin.
“You have not touched your food,” the queen said gently. “Eat. You must be ravenous.”
Bryson felt her neck strain from the whiplash the topic of conversation gave her. She looked down at the platters of food. She still wasn’t sure what was safe to eat or drink. Her stomach growled, but she did not wish to touch any of it.
But the queen was looking at her expectantly. Voices drifted around them, those that Bryson had nearly forgotten were there. Behind the queen, guards appeared, dressed in simple cloths around their waists in gold and black, carrying swords and draped in gold and bones.
Bryson gulped.
“Eat, drink, and we will converse,” the queen urged.
Bryson wondered at her insistence, and it made her hesitant to touch anything. She did not want to be tethered to the Unseelie in any way, and choosing the wrong food would do that.
Her hands hovered over the plate, darting from food to food before her fingers finally closed around a goblet of water. She brought it to her lips, sniffed it first, and when she detected no hint of magic, took a small sip.
Setting it back down, she looked back up at the queen, urging her to continue with a delicate nod of her head.
The queen seemed to sneer but sat back. “You are entirely too clever for your own good, little blind Fae. Eat.”
Bryson’s fingers twitched. “I am not hungry.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. She could almost taste the blood and rot the ghoul had given her and wanted to gag. She’d not trust an Unseelie with food again.
The queen’s gaze narrowed. “Eat, I said.”
“I must decline, Your Majesty. I do not have an appetite.”
“Of course you do not.” The queen looked her up and down. “You have been sleeping a great part of the day. I’d say you have not exercised your body enough to even feel hunger.”
“Sure,” Bryson agreed slowly.That’s it.
The queen’s lips curled into a smile. “Then I suppose you should get in the proper exercise. To build up that appetite.”
Bryson didn’t see it coming. She barely heard them as they appeared behind her. The guards grabbed her arms, jerking her out of the seat. Her feet kicked out, knocking over the platter of food as she fought back with all her might. But they were too big, too strong, and restraining her seemed to be an easy feat for them.
She tried to tap into her magic to blow them away, but her well felt empty, especially when one of the guards held an iron dagger to her throat.
