Page 64 of Throne of Dreams
“No.” When the girl with the bouncy blonde curls spoke, her voice was reverent. She took Maeve’s hand; it was so small compared to hers. “It’s you. I know it.”
“We all know it,” answered another amidst murmurs of agreement.
“I had a vineyard, Your Highness.” A male fae stepped forward and weary lines of exhaustion haunted his handsome face. “I watched it burn to the ground. The Dark Queen is destroying all that Spring ever was. She’s ruining it, spreading her darkness and letting it fester. She sends the dark fae out to wreak havoc upon us. There’s nothing for us there anymore. We left everything behind. Our homes. Our trades and professions. Parts of our soul. We abandoned it all and in doing so, we revoked our vows to the Spring Court.”
Ceridwen gasped.
Maeve wasn’t entirely sure, but she imagined rescinding a vow to one’s Court was kind of a big deal. She turned to Ceridwen and lowered her voice, so only they heard the words she spoke. “I didn’t realize it was so bad.”
“Neither did I.” Ceridwen shook her head, her waves of golden hair spilling around her like a sunlit waterfall.
“Will Tiernan accept them?”
“If they swear allegiance to him and Summer,” she paused and pressed her lips together, “then yes.”
Maeve faced the Spring fae. She rolled her shoulders back, shifting easily into the role of an Archfae before addressing them. “The High King will protect all those who seek amnesty and vow their fidelity to the Summer Court.”
The fae who’d lost his vineyard straightened. He shared looks with those around him and when he spoke, his voice was low and firm. “With all due respect, Your Highnesses, we don’t want to pledge allegiance to the Summer Court.” He bowed. “We wish to swear our devotion toyou.”
Maeve balked. “Me? But I…I don’t even have a Court.”
“It makes no difference to us.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing the Spring fae as a whole. “We’ve all agreed. We want no other as our queen. Only you.”
“I…” Maeve stammered, lost to the rise of emotion clogging her throat. Queen. These fae wanted her as theirqueen.
The mother of the curly-haired fae moved to the front of the crowd. “You saved us.”
Their praise was too much for her to bear. “It was nothing.”
A male stepped up and placed his fist upon his heart. “You destroyed the Hagla for us.”
“The High King took down the giant,” Maeve countered while struggling to control the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her heart hammered, and her breath barely escaped under the crushing weight of expectation pressing down on her lungs.
“He did so to protect the Summer Court.” The male fae bowed to her. “You went after the Hagla to protect us. You stormed into the shadows forus.”
“You saved my son’s life!” shouted a male from the back and she looked up, recognizing his face. He was the father of the small fae child she’d held when the Hagla attacked.
Dazed, Maeve stepped back, and Ceridwen stepped right up to save her. “Let us speak with the High King and see what we can do. I’m certain he’ll be sympathetic and understanding to your cause.”
The Spring fae agreed and nodded. They would wait for the High King’s word. They would ask him to hear their plight. Maeve offered to find them employment and homes, to create whatever they needed. Whatever their heart’s desire, she would find a way to bring it to fruition.
“You are a gift from the goddess, Lady Maeve.”
“A true Dawnbringer.”
By the time they left the Spring fae shelter, Maeve was spellbound. She wasn’t accustomed to being the recipient of so much love and respect. Those fae wanted her, they chose her, and their simple kindness and gratitude left her head spinning. Their utter devotion to her was beyond anything she ever dreamed of for herself. She’d always wanted to be a queen, she’d been determined to take the crown she was owed, but she’d thought such aspirations vanished when the truth of her blood came out. Yet now…now it was suddenly within her grasp, and the thought of it was petrifying.
Maeve drifted to Ceridwen’s side and the High Princess draped her in a cloak of tranquility. Easy, gentle waves of composure coasted over her to help calm her mind.
When Maeve finally caught her breath, she took Ceridwen’s hand. “What just happened?”
Ceridwen laughed, airy and musical. “I think it’s safe to say you’ve been anointed High Queen.”
“But how? That’s impossible.” Maeve couldn’t even think clearly anymore.
“Nothing’s impossible.”
“What do you think Tiernan will say?” Maeve wasn’t even sure she wanted to know. She’d only just received the title of High Princess; she knew absolutely nothing about becoming a High Queen.
