Page 96 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

Rhoswyn

The quiet is so oppressive that I can’t breathe. My first step into the ballroom echoes like an explosion in the large space. My second is even louder still.

These shoes are horrendous. Somehow, the maids expect me to be able to walk when I’m balancing my weight on six inch spikes. Goddess, I love the height they give me, and they’re so beautiful that I actually cooed when the maids first brought them out, but I feel like a newborn deer as I wobble forward another step.

If I move my head too much, the delicate golden ring of jewelled flowers nestled over my forehead will fall off. I don’t even want to know how much it costs.

New goal. Find a place to stand and do not move. Remaining stationary might be my only safe option at this point.

A voice on my left startles me, ringing out over the silent nobles who are bowing deeply across the room.

“Announcing Nicnevin Rhoswyn, fifth beloved daughter of Danu and High Queen of all fae.”

“All hail!” The answering call echoes throughout the room, so loud that it startles me again.

It’s eerie when an entire room full of people bows before you. A single, clear path has formed between their bodies, leading from the grand doorway I’m standing in to the throne at the other side.

The ballroom is hung with flowers. Literally. A dozen wisterias grow gnarled trunks around the columns of the room, only to burst into multicoloured pastel bloom above us. Their vines—which appear gold in this light—crisscross the open space where there should be a roof, forming the ceiling with their intricate web. From here, it almost looks like the chandeliers themselves are hanging from those vines… which must be impossible.

Only it isn’t, because this is Faerie. Those same chandeliers are lit with glowing spheres of magic instead of candles.

The walls are dominated by enormous windows that let the light from the party spill out into the forest beyond.

While I was getting ready, Titania told me that the fae way of building around nature and allowing it to come inside is their way of inviting Danu into every aspect of their lives. Because Danu is woven into the natural fabric of the world. That philosophy naturally led to the conclusion that wherever nature is, Danu is also.

I’ve got to admit, while I might be questioning the practicality of it, it’s beautiful to look at.

I’m gaping at everything like an idiot, but thankfully, none of the assembled fae have noticed. None of them are looking up. Even my Guard, who wait for me at the other side of the room, keep their eyes trained on the floor.

“You’re doing beautifully,” Titania encourages, appearing at my side. “Now, remember, head high. Don’t bow to anyone, unintentionally or not. You’re in charge here. Make sure they know it.”

“Easier said than done,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth. “I can barely walk in these things.”

“Ordinarily, I’d say take them off,” Maeve grumbles, as she appears on my other side, glaring at the crowd. “But you may need those heels to stab one of these pretentious twats.”

I… hadn’t even considered that such a thing might be possible, but Titania nods.

“If it does come to that,” she says. “Make sure to go for the eyes.”

“Not. Helping,” I growl, taking that first step across the gilt floor.

Walking between the fae is nerve-racking. Even with these shoes, I’m still a good deal shorter than all of them. Though they’re nearly all high fae—and so the most human-looking of any fae—their ethereal beauty is disconcerting to see. They’re long-limbed and graceful, even bowing as they are.

Any one of them would suit the part of Nicnevin better than I can.

Just keep moving. If I stop—if I freeze, like I so desperately want to—I’ll flee back the way I came.

“Remember, you can lean on Danu,” Titania counsels. “She’s your strength. Don’t be afraid.”

But the last time I did that, I destroyed a building and killed a person.

I don’t dare reply, not while I’m surrounded by other fae. Now that I’m halfway across the room, I notice the subtle differences between the two sides. On my left, the fae tend to favour light, pastel colours. They’re glowing with an almost golden light, and it’s almost comforting.

Seelie. The knowing is instinctive, and I don’t question it.

And on my right, the gowns favour darker, rich jewel tones. The fae seeming to absorb the glow from the opposite side. There’s an edge to them that’s almost cutting. Something I’m used to feeling from Lore and Drystan, but would never have put a name to before.

Unseelie.

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