Page 105 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“Bring me Ciara.” I don’t even have to use charm this time for the fae to scatter to obey.
They take even less time to find her than they did Eero, and I wonder idly if she was just waiting for this moment. She’s certainly dressed well for someone who was a prisoner. The summer princess is made up like a queen, wearing gold and white, her oiled brown skin gleaming in the sun as she glides towards us.
Drystan drops the flames at last, and I step forward as Ciara crosses the scorched line on the ground where they were. My fingers tremble slightly as I wrench the golden band from Eero’s head.
To her credit, she immediately drops to her knees before his corpse.
“I swear my fealty to Nicnevin Rhoswyn. Never will my deeds bring harm to her, nor shall I hear of harm to her, unless it is to obstruct it. I accept her as my Nicnevin, on condition that she rule my subjects with the Goddess’s fairness, and that she willperform all duties as they are written in the Treaty of Marlen. May Danu witness my vow and strike me down if I recant.”
My chin dips in silent acknowledgement, and I thrust the circlet at her. “We have work to do,QueenCiara.”
I deliberately stress the title, ensuring the rest of her court hears it. There’s no time for arguments over the succession. I have no idea if Eero has other heirs, and I’m not interested in waiting for them to come forward. They can fight over her throne after the war is over.
“Summer owes you a great debt,” the new queen says slowly, smoothing the fabric over the generous curves of her thighs. “We will repay in full.”
Admissions of that kind are big to fae. I’d like to think that means we’re off to a good start. It’s enough to make hope flare inside me.
“Good. I need ships.”
Murmurs rise, but a sharp tug on my chest distracts me. Bree drags magic from our bond so fast it gives me whiplash, and even though I open myself to Danu as fast as I can, the accompanying dizziness still catches me off guard.
The ground shakes, and my wings flare out, steadying me while everyone around us staggers. My Guard spin, searching for the cause, but it’s not immediately obvious.
At least, not until theBOOMhits a second later.
Thirty-Three
Bricriu
Iwish I wasn’t so horribly familiar with stalking my father through the streets of this city—any city, really. This time, it’s different. The nostalgia is thick with anticipation.
Instead of dragging him home to sober up before a performance or a meeting with a patron, I’m dragging him to the gates of the Otherworld. I’m setting myself free.
With a silent prayer that this will be the last time, I weave through the streets of the Pleasure District. Bright colours assault my eyes. Whores in windows cast sultry glances my way and then dismiss me as soon as they spot the mating mark splattered across my chest.
Thank the Goddess. I donotwant to have to peel them off me.
Mab is silent beside me, her face resolute. I glamoured her to prevent the extra attention she’d bring, but I suspect I should’ve done the same for myself. I’m unused to the stares I’m getting.
Stupidly, I forgot that it’s impossible to be anonymous as a member of the Guard. Rose’s fathers were as famous as Diana,if not more so. I’d hoped, with our Nicnevin being so new, it wouldn’t be an issue.
Unfortunately, the destruction of the Toxic Orchid will probably remain the subject of gossip here for some time, and dozens of fae from across the Pleasure District undoubtedly witnessed Rose rescue me from the brothel.
With a sigh, I admit it’s probably too late to correct my mistake. My time is better spent keeping an active block on my mind against my father’s charm. Unlike Rose’s magic, his is limited by his own strength. I can shield against it—and I have before—but I need to be focused. The slightest panic or distraction will give him an in.
Surprise was how he managed it last time.
We turn a corner and arrive at one of the more exclusive brothels in the city.
The Blooming Rose is bustling, even at this hour. Expensive whores smile invitingly down from the balcony, throwing namesake rose petals down into the crowd like invitations. I narrowly dodge them as I flash the Nicnevin’s mark on my palm to the trolls standing guard at the door, then head up the stairs.
Inside is lavish, perfect for my father’s tastes, and my shoulders stiffen as Mab leads me down a hallway decorated with life-size erotic paintings and huge vases of flowers.
“Hey, handsome.” A dryad sashays out of the room in front of me, reaching for my chest. “Are you looking for me?”
Seduction drips from her tone, and the moss she wears like underwear is slipping artfully from across her assets in invitation.
“No.” My clipped tone has no effect on her smile.
