Page 11 of Crown of Roses
“Easy.” Rowan grinned but it wasn’t kind. It was malicious, and it made Maeve’s skin crawl. “We venture to Faeven and find her.”
Chapter Five
Maeve caught herself before she laughed. Instead she made a kind of choking noise, and Saoirse clapped her soundly on the back.
There was no way this fae could be serious. Was he suggesting they just waltz into Faeven, hunt down a faerie who could maybe, possibly, be from the bloodline of a goddess, then bring her back to Kells, and expect her to save the world? It sounded absolutely ridiculous. More so, it sounded like a death wish.
But Carman seemed to consider his absurd proposal. Her lips pursed like she’d bitten into a sour lemon. She spared Rowan a glance and her chin lifted, even though he stood far above her head. “If I send one of my most highly trained warriors to Faeven, what are the chances of recovering this lifeblood of magic, as you call it?”
Rowan bowed regally. “That’s where I come in.”
“You?” Roth snarled and his hands coiled into meaty fists. “Why should we trust a filthy fae?”
“Because I know how to find her.” Rowan didn’t even flinch at the insult. “Before you ask me how I know, may I remind you, I’m fae.”
Faeries couldn’t lie, at least, not directly. They could deviate from the truth. They could embellish and speak in riddles, but they could not tell an outright lie. As far as Maeve was concerned, that hardly seemed like reason enough to trust Rowan. Everything about him oozed deceit and chaos. His gorgeous looks were simply a disguise, a way to conceal predator from prey. He was the wolf in sheep’s clothing. The monster under the bed. The villain of the story.
And Maeve didn’t trust a single word he said.
A few soldiers exchanged uncomfortable glances and there was an energy moving throughout the room, a crackling spark of hope born from desperation. No one wanted to place their faith in Rowan, but as of now, he was their only option. The only one with the means to put an end to the Scathing.
“Very well.” Carman raised her voice so it echoed up through the arching walls above. “We will assemble a team of our most lethal warriors to go with you into Faeven.”
“Bear in mind, Your Majesty,” Casimir interjected with a curt nod. “The more people who travel with us, the greater our chances of not returning alive.”
True, it was far easier to hide a party of three or four, versus a group of twenty.
“Indeed.” Carman spread her arms wide and the chains hanging from her gown clanked softly like chimes. “Captain Vawda, you will lead a team. I’ll send Saoirse Kearney as well, since she’s one of the most highly trained warriors we have in our company. The faerie, of course. And one more…”
Maeve held her breath.
“Many have said there is no nobler way to die, then to forfeit one’s life in favor of the crown.” Carman smiled, and the chill of death ran its icy finger down Maeve’s spine. “I shall make such a sacrifice, and appoint my heir to venture to Faeven with you.”
Shock and awe swallowed up the gasps of curiosity, but it was Maeve who couldn’t move. Who couldn’t breathe. Carman, the Queen of Kells, her mother, was acknowledging her. In public. Where rumors, and whispers, and questions would ultimately break free from the throne room and spread like wildfire through the city of Kells and beyond. Her stomach twisted into a knot of uncertainty and dread fell like a weight on her chest. She wanted this. Of course she wanted this. She’d been waiting years for her mother to see her value, her worth. She’d done everything within her power to please Carman, to make her proud, to elicit an emotion, a response, anything. Now, all of it was finally within her reach.
Her mother stretched her arm out, her pointy nails motioning for her to step closer. To come into view. Carman’s smile softened. Slightly. “My daughter, Maeve Carrick, Princess of Kells.”
Maeve froze. She couldn’t get her legs to move. They were in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper, until it was covering her entire body. The cool breeze coming in from off the Cliffs of Morrigan vanished, leaving her with stagnant air that made it impossible to breathe. Someone behind her muttered her name, and shoved her from her stupor. Maeve stumbled into the clearing of people surrounding her mother.
Carman’s scowl was fleeting but unavoidable.
Maeve glanced around the circle. Casimir stood to her right, with Saoirse beside him.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
Maeve lurched into Casimir at the sound of the velvety voice that coated her skin. She looked over to see Rowan, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, and the curve of a smirk on his face. She hadn’t even heard him approach.
Casimir swiftly maneuvered Maeve so she was on the opposite side of him, next to Saoirse. His glower only deepened when Rowan chuckled at his expense.
“The four of you will travel to Faeven to search out this anam ó Danua and bring it to me, so that I may rid the human lands of The Scathing.” Outside, waves crashed against the cliffs, and the roar of the ocean filled the cavernous ceilings. Carman lifted her voice to match its wrath. “This journey is not for the faint of heart. You will face creatures of darkness and death. You will struggle, you will suffer, and there is a good chance not all of you will return.”
Rowan made a scoffing noise and rolled back onto his heels.
“Get some rest.” Carman whirled away from them and returned to her throne on the dais. “You leave in two days’ time.”
Rest would be impossible.
Maeve didn’t even wait for the throne room to clear; she shoved and shouldered her way out of the grand space and into the hall. Soldiers milled about, awaiting orders, and she ducked past them to the open-air corridor where it was easier to cling to the shadows. She didn’t know if her mother’s newest announcement meant she would have guards tracking her every movement, because the last thing she wanted was soldiers following her around like trained watch dogs. She enjoyed her freedom and she planned to keep it that way for as long as possible.
