Page 50 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
“You truly are Aldrin’s mate, is that correct?” Basil asks and I nod absentmindedly. “Can you speak with him across this distance? Do you know where he is and if he is alive? Safe?” His voice breaks the slightest bit.
The words escape me.“He lives. He is not safe, but he is surviving.”
Basil turns away, dabbing a handkerchief to his eyes. “And it is true that you surrendered yourself to his enemies to save him?”
“Of course I did,” I half whisper.
“Would you go to any lengths for him? To regain his throne with him?” An intensity fills his voice as he stands over me.“Would you die for him? Place yourself in the worst kind of danger for him? Would you go to war for him?”
“Yes. There is nothing,nothing, I wouldn’t do for him.”
“That is what the spy master said, but I needed to hear it for myself,” Basil murmurs.
“And what wouldyoudo for Aldrin?” I ask.
“I am doing much to pave the way for his return. You will see that shortly.” He turns on his heel and strides into my bedchamber, returning a few moments later carrying a cloak trimmed in soft fur. Basil pulls a silver pocket watch from his brocade vest, checks the time, then snaps it shut again. “If you will, my queen, the meeting will begin soon.”
My mind scrambles to work out what he is speaking of. I dumbly allow him to put the cloak on me and draw up the hood. “I am not aware of any meeting.”
“This way, please. Follow me.” Basil leads me toward the servants’ entrance in the kitchen.
I have thirty seconds to decide if I trust him, or if this is a trap. For all I know, he could be leading me straight to Torin, to be charged with treason. But I am here to take risks, and this man, with his lifelong affection for Aldrin, seems my best bet.
He leads me out of my chambers and through back corridors. The space is dimly lit, with a polished stone floor and unadorned walls. There are servants scurrying in both directions and I pull my hood tighter. They make an effort to pretend not to see me, many turning their heads in the opposite direction or looking at the ground as they pass. I wonder if it is a common occurrence for nobles to sneak through their passageways to travel the palace unnoticed by their own class.
I almost feel like I am doing the wrong thing, even though it has been days since Florian took me to my rooms instead of the dungeon and told me to stay put. No one in Titania’s court expects me to be locked away down there any longer.
Basil opens the door to a large supply cupboard and pulls me in, locking it behind us. He rolls a set of shelving holding linen to the side and reveals a small passageway behind. I peer into its murky depths. Apprehension makes my skin crawl. He could be taking me anywhere, in a new kind of cruel torment devised just for me. This could lead straight to a deprivation cell. To some unique betrayal after gaining my trust.
I turn back to Basil as he lights multiple fire orbs to illuminate a staircase leading down into the bowels of the palace.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” I ask. “I’m not sure I want to go down there.”
“Trust me, my queen, you do.” He walks through, then holds out a hand for me, his eyebrows pinching as I hesitate to take it. “If I wanted to trick, trap or poison you, I could have done it a hundred times over by now. I am loyal to Aldrin, and by extension, to you. Now come.”
I reach out to Aldrin, because I need his reassurance. I hate how suspicious and unsure this place has made me. He is negotiating the finer details of his alliance with the Starlight King and the Assassins of Belladonna.
Trust Basil,he murmurs.Those are the royal escape passageways. They are a well-guarded secret. Only my closest few know about them, and it would be an ideal place for any resistance against Titania to meet.
I take Basil’s hand and follow him into the darkness.
It is suffocating in here. The brick masonry walls are tight around us and thick dust hangs in the stagnant air, the motes shimmering in the orb light. We travel down and down, and the temperature gradually drops.
A mosaic of roots each as thick as my little finger snake across the walls, penetrating in and out of the mortar. The stone is slick with moisture, and in many places it drips from the ceiling. I caress the fleshy appendages of the tree and theyseem to vibrate under my touch, glowing faintly. Magic thrums through them.
Basil stops and gives me the most peculiar look. “If I didn’t believe you were his mate before,thatwould be all the evidence I need. You truly are the Queen of the Spring Court.”
I glance between him and the roots that have returned to their dull state. I could have imagined it. “What did I do?”
Basil runs his fingers across one side of his neatly groomed mustache, readjusting the slight curl at the end. “This entire palace is built upon the scaffold of an immense tree, but only the royal family can connect with it or control it. The reaction it just had to you means the tree chooses you as well.”
My mind flies back to when that Assassin of Belladonna tried to kill Aldrin in his sleep, and the branches of this tree literally tore out of the walls under his command. He said the assassin must have been truly desperate, to fight him in his own palace. No wonder Titania was so nervous when he returned. She must believe me too powerless to touch the tree.
We continue our descent until the staircase lands in a small room with four doors leading off it. Basil selects one, taking us down another long staircase that hugs the wall of a cavern with a great crashing waterfall and a rapidly rushing stream. Branches of the ancient wisteria tree grow into the walls here and sprays of lilac blooms hang from them.
There is an archway at the far side blocked by an opaque white ward with swirling mist leaking out of it. As Basil leads me through, the magic pushes me back, curling across my skin as it queries me, making each step a great effort. Suddenly, we are allowed through, and I stumble multiple steps before I regain my footing.
I find myself in a large hall of elaborate stone masonry. The ceiling arches in intervals, meeting sculpted columns that cutacross the floor in long rows. Only a dozen orbs light up the large space with a warm glow, leaving the rest to pool in darkness.
