Page 47 of Curse of Thorns
Her eyes meet mine, the eagerness still there but with a pinch of pain. “That I’d somehow make ithere, of all places, before my own court’s palace.”
My eyebrows pull down. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been inside my own court’s palace,” she admits.
My eyes widen, stomach sinking. “Never?”
She shakes her head. “That was one of my biggest dreams. It’s the one part of being a shadow fae that I never completed. Technically speaking, I’m not actually a full citizen. You probably could have used that information to get me kicked out of the trials actually. Now, that I think of it.” She laughs, but I’m stuck on her words.
“How have you never been to the palace of your own people?”
She shrugs. “I would have gone in the next year. But it’s closed to only the strongest fae in the kingdom because we hardly have enough magic to fuel it, and they’re concerned with dilution. They open the gates yearly for one celebration, but only adult fae are allowed. I... well, I never quite made it.”
Never. She’s never been to her own palace. She’s a countess, I just assumed... “Is that where you were going before I asked for your help?”
She nods, sadness clear in her eyes though she tries to hide it with a soft smile.
I’ve met very few people with as much love for their element as Caelynn of the Shadow Court. I remember the look on her face the first moment she set foot back in the Whisperwood, and when the Shadow Sprites welcomed her.
She loves her court, even though she doesn’t always agree with them.
Forgetting everything else—the music playing and fae couples twirling to the music, even the queen’s judging gaze—I grab Caelynn’s hand and pull her out of the ballroom and down an empty hall.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Showing you something,” I call as I continue my excited walk, pulling her along. She skips after me, huffing in fake annoyance.
Up a set of golden spiral stairs to the second floor and down another wide hall, which ends with a set of massive black doors. Black doors where dark smoke wafts out from the bottom edge.
Caelynn gasps, already recognizing where I’ve taken her.
I’ve spent a bit of time in the High Court palace over my years. My family spent a whole week here a month or so before Reahgan was named High Heir. The queen wanted to get to know her potential heirs. There were three families from three different courts as contenders, and each were welcomed guests for a full week.
Apparently, Reahgan had impressed the queen. Although, when a Flicker Court matchmaker declared him Brielle’s mate—well, that certainly helped seal the deal. It was in this palace that they met.
I remember passing this room a dozen times—the inky black magic seeping out from under it eternally—and thinking it was creepy as hell. My brother dared me to go inside because he knew how much it creeped me out. He dragged me down the hall, laughing as he went. Brielle laughed too, though I could tell she was uncomfortable with his forcefulness.
He shoved me into the closed doors and told me he wouldn’t let me go back to my own rooms unless I faced my fear and went inside. Reahgan was a strange brother. He loved me, and he was supportive sometimes. But he also loved to showcase his power, especially when there was an audience.
His antics often helped me develop a backbone, though. I relied on him and father too much. So like a mother bird, he shoved me out of the nest... often.
Like in this memory, I refused to whimper and cry—I was an adult fae for God’s sake. Young but technically an adult. And I wouldn’t be made a fool.
So, I picked myself up and went inside the room of black magic.
Immediately, the shadow magic I feared leaped at me, smothering my screams. I panicked, but as quickly as it enveloped me, it embraced me in a warm welcome. It’s strange to feel emotions from magic like that, but its friendliness was so obvious I didn’t even question it. The smoky magic settled on my skin like drops of dew, warming my skin.
And it does the same thing the moment Caelynn pulls open the door. Darkness charges like a stallion and then bathes us in simple warmth and comfort. Caelynn sucks in a breath and I smile.
Ten years ago, I entered this very room terrified of the shadow magic that fueled it only to be amazed at howbeautifulit was. It was soft and enigmatic.
So much like the shadow fae with me now.
This might become one of my favorite memories ever, watching her eyes glisten as she spins, taking in the room before us. The walls are black stone, the floor appears to be made of black smoke. The ceiling is covered in moving inky magical forms. They’re like living silhouettes of creatures and fae, battling and dancing in a lovely ever-changing show.
Against the far wall is a set of windows, freely letting light into the wide-open room. There are dusty chairs and a big table on one end and a dusty fireplace with couches on the other.
“What is this place?” she whispers.
