Page 148 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
It is a show of appreciation to our closest supporters in the Spring Court, she said, except I am too damned tired to play the gracious host. I resist running a hand down my face as the manyloud, competing voices wash over me from dozens of different conversations.
Everyone from this court who helped us win the throne is here: our inner circle that went into exile with me, Keira’s family, the senators and nobility who dared to stand up to Titania, and the commanders who lead the regiments of the Spring Court army.
I stare at my mate, my queen, mesmerized. She is deep in a discussion with her parents and Caitlin, bouncing a babbling Morgana, who I swear has tripled in size, on her lap. Keira looks every part the Spring Court queen, seated at the central banquet table in a throne that matches mine, wearing her signature golden dress and dainty crown.
She was born to rule as much as I was.
I am still so fucking terrified that someone is going to come along and take her away from me. My chest tightens painfully at the thought and I can’t stop myself from placing my hand on her lap under the table and giving her upper thigh a possessive squeeze, just to confirm she is really here. That this isreal. She tosses me a dazzling smile over her shoulder, then turns back to her father.
“We have half a dozen high fae living in Appleshield now, tending to the orchards and teaching us a thing or two.” Edmund’s green eyes shine as he beholds his daughter. “There isn’t a single glasshouse left unoccupied for the first time in decades. It was frankly shocking how quickly the Spring fae could get them up and running again.”
Maeve leans forward, collecting more food from the platters in the middle of the table and heaping it onto Edmund’s empty plate. “We are in negotiations with low fae who want to move to the forests around Appleshield Castle. Particularly the wild apple tree groves that you love so much, Keira. Tree nymphs, a Lake Maiden, even a hive of pixies. They will all need to swear anoath of fealty to your father, of course, and any Lord Protector that comes after him.”
Maeve gives Caitlin a warm look before continuing. “And our most powerful magic wielders will have to ensure that the nymphs and their lands never succumb to magical collapse. This is how we return magic to the human realm. This is what will fix our crisis.”
“And what does the High Priestess think of this influx of fae into her lands? I cannot imagine she would be thrilled.” My fist clenches under the table at the thought of the old spider, but I moderate my tone for Keira’s sake.
No matter how distasteful and manipulative I find the High Priestess, Keira still cares for her grandmother. Sometimes we only see a unique perspective of a person we love, the affection and kindness they show us, and it can be hard to look beyond it to their toxic behavior toward others.
We cannot help who we love.
Edmund lets out a long-suffering sigh. “My mother is coming to see that it is time she retired and let someone with…fresher ideas lead the Mothers of Magic during these changing times. The priestesses will be putting their efforts into easing migration between the realms, especially helping to settle humans who want to live in the Spring Court.”
Those words are music to my ears.
Keira leans into me and gives me a measured glance, her lips quirking upward slightly.Try not to look so happy about it.
What can I say? A man never forgets who tortured him.I immediately regret the words as she cringes. Then I look at Edmund, who has taken the chubby Morgana from Keira and holds her on his lap while feeding her applesauce from his plate, the fruit picked from his own orchards. Maybe it is possible to forget, or to at least understand and forgive.
“How old is Morgana, exactly?” I lean around the table to ask Caitlin, who is on Maeve’s other side.
A deep frown pinches her brow and her lips compress into a thin line. “It is hard to say, since she has spent significant time in both human and fae realms, and three years pass here for every human year. Her milestones suggest she is perhaps six months old.”
Caitlin takes her long, intricate braid and tosses it over her shoulder. She isn’t one to get dressed up, even for a royal banquet. “I missed too many of those milestones because that bitch kidnapped my sister and thrust us into another war. I am glad you made her pay.”
She stabs her meat with such force I wonder if she is imagining it as Titania instead. Keira drags Caitlin out of her mood by asking her about Odiane’s role as a mother.
I turn my attention back to the rest of my people. The entire room buzzes loudly with many voices overlapping each other, filling the space with the jovial calls and laughter that were missing each time I forced my way into this palace after my exile. Even the servants walk with slight smiles tipping up their lips and a lightness in their step.
I should feel satisfied, having all of my inner circle and closest allies here for this celebratory feast. Having this crown on my head once more and the title of king bestowed upon me. But a deep uneasiness fills me instead.
There are no obstacles left to stop me combating the corruption that is killing my realm. The image of the great rifts that have opened up across the borders of my court rises to mind, filled with voids of the darkest midnight and bleeding ash in streams above them as they consume the very matter of the land.
The rot that destroys the trees, making their branches and trunks limp and mushy. The blackness that has spread over thebodies of the affected low fae and the decay that kills their flesh while they are still alive, leaving many with limbs half missing.
I turn to Cyprien at my other side. “Will you be the Commander of the Armed Forces and my Royal Adviser once more?”
The hard expression across his face doesn’t even ripple as he shoves another forkful of food into his mouth and makes me wait as he chews. “Of course. I took up those roles once more the moment you tried to ambush my forces at the Frozen River Fortress. We have quite the task before us.”
It is like he read my mind. “We will begin by ensuring every high fae of the cities witnesses the natural disaster we must face and appreciates the gravity of the doom we slowly march toward.”
“But how do we get them to comply with even that simple demand? That is the question,” Cyprien grunts. “Titania spent years conditioning them. Forbidding them from going to the borders.”
Klara pours herself more wine, topping up both our chalices. “I have an idea. Well, actually, the idea was some of the half-jesting rambling that usually pours out of Drake’s mouth, but I should get the credit for refining it.”She takes a sip, then turns the full intensity of those lilac eyes on me. “Drake suggested hosting a massive orgy there to draw in a crowd.”
I choke on my drink and Cyprien barks out a laugh.
“But,” Klara continues, “I think it would be more appropriate to create a sacred pilgrimage to the dying lands. Celebrate the people who take it. Set up festivities along the road to lead them there. Make it an experience worth having.”
