To Wear a Fae Crown (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 2) Page 6

  My knees go weak, lungs constricting.

  “Where are you going?” Lorelei asks.

  I focus on her words to reel in my frazzled thoughts. “I’ll be staying with my mentor, Mr. Meeks, until the trial. He’s taking me to his home.”

  She visibly shudders, swallowing hard before saying, “I’ll stay with you.”

  My shoulders slump. “No, Lorelei. They nearly imprisoned me on the grounds that I might be part-fae. There’s no way you’ll be allowed to remain here. Besides, why would you want to?”

  “I’m not going to let you face this alone.”

  I’m not alone, I want to say. I have Mr. Meeks. But I know it isn’t the same. She and Foxglove are my final tethers to the world I left behind. Proof that everything I experienced in Faerwyvae was real. Her presence is both a comfort and a painful reminder, and there’s a selfish part of me that wants her to stay. But I know it isn’t possible.

  I open my mouth to say as much when Mr. Meeks draws near with slow, hesitant steps. “If your friend would like to keep you company, I will allow her to stay at my residence as well,” he says. “Mr. Duveau will give his permission. He’s a reasonable man. So long as she returns after the trial, he could have no argument against it. She can serve as an honorary ambassador until your name is either cleared or condemned.”

  I’m surprised at his willingness to let a fae into his house, in addition to a supposed criminal. Mr. Meeks never hated the fae as much as I did, but I never got the impression he liked them either.

  “I’m staying,” Lorelei says. The set of her jaw tells me there’s no arguing with her.

  I nod, and we follow Mr. Meeks to the black coach. Before I climb inside, my eyes snag on the other carriage, the one of gold and pearl and lustrous wood. Foxglove stands outside it and offers me a sad smile, one that makes my heart plummet. That is, until Maddie Coleman obscures my view of my friend as she saunters to the carriage door. She meets my gaze and gives me an exaggerated smile. “Looks like I get to be queen after all.”

  Fury roars through me, and I let it burn away my hurt, my anxieties. I shape it into a smirk, eyes burning into the girl. “Just beware of the king’s antlers,” I say sweetly. “He has no patience for easy prey.”

  8

  Inside the carriage, I sit next to Lorelei while the two men sit across from us. Mr. Duveau seems unperturbed by the presence of my fae companion, his attention taken by the dark scenery outside the window. I, on the other hand, can’t suppress the creeping feeling of being so near Councilman Duveau. I never met the man before tonight and only vaguely recall his name from conversation. From what I know, he’s a member of Eisleigh’s council, alongside Mayor Coleman and all the other mayors that oversee Eisleigh’s villages. I don’t think Mr. Duveau is a mayor, though, so perhaps he’s one of the council’s heads. Whatever the case, I find even his silence and inattention oddly domineering.

  The only person who seems more uncomfortable than me is Lorelei. She watches the two men, posture stiff at my side. Considering what happened with the last human male she encountered, her suspicion is understandable. I just can’t fathom why she chose to stay.

  Mr. Meeks’ house isn’t too far from the mayor’s, and before the ride grows too tense, we roll to a halt. The driver opens the door, announcing our arrival. Mr. Meeks gets out and offers his hand to assist my exit. Before I can accept, Mr. Duveau leans forward and blocks the door with his arm. A flash of red peeking from under his cuff catches my eye—a strand of rowan berries wrapped around his wrist. I reach for the strand around my neck, seeking comfort in their feel.

  “Your friend may exit first,” Mr. Duveau says. “I’d like a word with you.”

  “I’m not leaving her,” Lorelei says with a snarl.

  His face flashes with irritation as he assesses my companion for the first time.

  My words come out calm but firm, as if I can cut the tension with them. “Mr. Meeks assured me you would accept Lorelei as honorary Autumn ambassador until the trial. If that is so, then she may be present for whatever you must say to me.”

  He looks at me through narrowed eyes, but he doesn’t meet my gaze for long. Slowly, he leans back and straightens his silk cravat. “Very well, Miss Fairfield. I want to impress upon you what is at stake. Despite the comforts and freedoms we are allowing you, what I said holds true; if you and your sister fail to present yourselves at Maven Fairfield’s trial, your mother will be executed.”

  I clench my teeth. It’s an effort to keep my voice level as I say, “I assure you, Mr. Duveau, that my mother’s life is of the utmost importance to me.”

  “And to your sister? Why is it you are here when your sister is not?”

  I wonder if the humans know anything about what has happened with Amelie. Aspen refused to send word when I thought she’d died; I doubt anything has been communicated about her allegiance to Cobalt or even Cobalt’s treachery. “My sister feels the same as I do.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  I open my mouth but consider my words carefully before I speak. “I’ll leave that promise for her to make.” I shift my weight to rise from the seat, but again Mr. Duveau blocks the door with his arm.

  “The council has heard nothing regarding your sister since the announcement was made that you would be marrying the Stag King and not she. Why is that?”

  “Why have you not heard from my sister or why did I get paired with King Aspen?”

  “Both.”

  I meet his eyes, holding his gaze with a glare. Shoulders square, I adopt the bearing of a fae royal. “Mr. Duveau, your curiosity flatters me, but it is getting late. I am vexed by today’s news and my companion and I are tired. You will excuse us and allow us our rest.”

  A muscle ticks at the corner of his jaw, expression darkening. “Don’t toy with me, Miss Fairfield.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “If I were threatening you, you’d know it.”

  My chest heaves as rage and terror flood me. Something in his tone, slithering beneath his words, has my skin crawling. Never would I have imagined being so terrified of one of my kind—a human. Especially after being thrust into the fae world where I was attacked by a kelpie, the Sea Queen, and Cobalt. I can’t put my finger on why, but this man is far more dangerous than any creature I’ve ever met.

  Still, I hold his gaze, my words like a growl. “Goodnight, Mr. Duveau.”

  He returns to his seat with a curt nod.

  Lorelei and I all but tumble through the door in our rush to get away from the man. Mr. Meeks greets us with an apologetic smile. “Let’s get you girls to bed.”

  We turn away from the carriage, but before the driver closes the door, I hear Mr. Duveau’s voice. “If you’re in contact with your sister, I implore you to pass along what I’ve said.”

  I refuse to turn around, refuse to do anything but dart into the safety of Mr. Meeks’ house.

  Lorelei and I are given a guest room to share, even though he offered us two separate accommodations. With Mr. Meeks being a widower and his son once again on holiday in the mainland, he has ample space. However, Lorelei wouldn’t be persuaded to leave my side, although I get the feeling she needs the comfort of my presence more than I need her protection. It’s clear she’s shaken by the events of this evening, her face paling from its usual rich umber to an ashen brown, a slight tremble with every move.

  “Are you all right?” I ask her as we climb into the small bed piled with an assortment of quilts and blankets.

  She winces as she tries to settle into the pillows, as if they pain her. “I’m fine,” she says, although her tone implies otherwise. “I’ve just never been on this side of the wall before. Never slept in a human house, in a human bed. It’s...uncomfortable for me.”

  “Physically? Or emotionally?”

  “Both. Also, I can already feel a drain on my magic. It makes me feel unwell.”

  A flash of panic tenses my shoulders. “Unwell? Is the drain on your magic a danger to yo
u?”

  “Not an immediate danger,” she says. “My magic won’t be as strong here, but I’ll get through it. It feels like when I was healing from my iron injury.”

  My heart squeezes. I can’t imagine why she would put herself through this for me. In fact, I have a feeling there’s more to her motives than she’s letting on. “Why are you really doing this, Lorelei?”

  “I told you. I won’t let you face this alone.”

  “But why? I appreciate your company, but this goes above and beyond the duties of friendship, and I can tell you’re uncomfortable about all of it. What aren’t you telling me?”

  She lets out a heavy sigh. “When you asked me if Aspen ordered me to stay with you, I answered by telling you I’d asked him if I could come. That is true, but he asked more from me. He asked me to watch over you so long as you’re here and until the situation with your mother is settled.”

  My breath hitches at the mention of Aspen. “Why?”

  “For the same reason I agreed. Because neither of us trust the humans.”

  “But you trust me and I’m one of them.”

  “You’re more than just a human. You’re my queen. You may not wear the crown and you may never hold the position, but until Aspen forces me to kneel before another female in your place, I will serve you.”

  I’m at a loss for words. It’s strange to think Lorelei and I disliked each other so much when we first met. Even she and Amelie became friends before she and I began to make amends.

  She continues. “If anyone tries to hurt you here, I’ll protect you however I can. I’ve protected myself once from them before, although I failed to protect another. I won’t make that mistake again with you. Aspen will have my head if I do.” The last words are said in jest, but her tone can’t hide the sorrow beneath.

  I can’t imagine how deep her pain must go, the death of her lover still recent. Now here we are in the home of the man who helped save her lover’s murderer. Where I helped save him too. I aided Mr. Osterman’s amputation, eased his pain with laudanum, comforted him. It’s still difficult for me to reconcile the man I knew growing up with the man Lorelei despises, but I believe her now.

  “How did it happen anyway?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why were you at the Spring axis when Mr. Osterman found you?”

  “Malan invited me to meet her parents in Spring,” she says. “I’d taken a week’s leave from King Aspen’s court and was on my way back to Autumn. Malan had decided to walk with me from the Spring axis to the Autumn axis, but we didn’t get very far. I was being careless, so caught up in our love that I didn’t smell the iron until the teeth of the trap were in my leg. That’s when the Butcher of Stone Ninety-Four came out from behind one of the trees near the wall. He’d been waiting for prey.”

  My stomach churns. “I’m so sorry, Lorelei. I hate that you’ve suffered at the hands of my people. I don’t know how you can handle being here.”

  “If I didn’t know there were humans like you, it would be impossible to be here. But you—and even Amelie, before everything with Cobalt—taught me that not all humans are to be feared.”

  “I learned the same from you about the fae.”

  From the light of the moon peering into the window, I see a smile form on her lips. “He won’t make her queen, you know.”

  I wrinkle my brow. “Excuse me?”

  “The new Chosen. I told you I’ll serve you until the king puts another in your place. But he’s never going to put her in your place. You know that, right?”

  A lump rises in my throat. “It shouldn’t matter to me. It isn’t likely I’ll ever see him again.”

  “It shouldn’t matter, yet it does, doesn’t it?”

  I nod. “It does.”

  We fall into silence, and exhaustion quickly sweeps all thought from my mind. But as tired as I am, I can’t seem to fall asleep. Even Lorelei finds slumber before I do. What she said about Aspen weaves its way into my consciousness, tickling my mind each time I’m about to slip into sleep. I toss and turn, but nothing seems to rid me of it.

  So instead, I give in.

  I open my heart and dig into the gaping wound where my mate should be. Aspen. I think his name, let it fill my mind. Like a bell, it reverberates through me and clears the fog from my head. In place of the fog lies a bridge—one I’ve seen before, spanning between two jagged cliffs. Last time I crossed it, the results were detrimental. What happens if I cross it now?

  With hesitant steps, I make my way over the bridge, feet balancing on each precarious plank that lines the way. I don’t bother looking down, for I know what’s there—sharp rocks, pointed spikes. When I reach the other side of the bridge, I see not the cliff I’d been heading to but a dark room. A familiar room.

  In the middle of it sits the bed I awoke from just this morning. Was it really just this morning? Beneath the covers lies a slumbering figure.

  I approach the edge of the bed and look down at my mate. His lips are parted, face slack, making him appear more youthful than ever. His blue-black hair lies in disarray, waves curling at his neck and over his bronze pillow. His antlers make deep impressions in the pillow where they touch it, but the bulk of them hangs past the back of the mattress.

  Everything inside me yearns to crawl in next to him. We’ve never spent the night in the same bed. We slept in the same room when he was recovering from his injury, but he had the bed while I dozed on the couch. The only other time we spent the night together was in the cave where we finally gave in to our desires. In the days leading up to now, he stayed away from our bed, either working on repairing the palace or avoiding me.

  I reach out to touch his cheek, the warmth of his skin kissing my fingers. There’s something about the touch that feels wrong, though, some tenuous barrier that keeps him from feeling real.

  It’s because I’m dreaming.

  That’s when I notice the violet haze that covers my vision. I’m only just now seeing it, but in the mysterious way of dreams, I know it was here all along. Even Aspen glows with a violet aura, one that pulses with every breath.

  My heart sinks with disappointment. I’m about to pull my hand away when Aspen’s eyelids flutter open. With a start, his eyes lock on mine and his fingers curl around my wrist. My breath catches, remembering what happened last time he woke to me standing over him. Of course, that time had been real, not a figment of my imagination.

  He pulls my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my wrist. I close my eyes and sink to the edge of the bed, sitting at his side. “You aren’t really here, are you?” he asks, voice sounding both close and far away at the same time.

  “No,” I say, opening my eyes to find his face. “Neither are you.”

  His lips pull into a crooked grin as his hand moves to my cheek. “I never knew I could dream something so beautiful.”

  Heat stirs inside me as his eyes drink me in, but all potential desire is crushed by the logic that permeates my thoughts. Not even my dreams are a respite from the brutal realism I hold so dear when I’m awake. “This hurts too much,” I say, lip trembling. “By tomorrow, your new Chosen will arrive. You’ll see that carriage and you’ll have no idea whether I or they will emerge from it. I don’t even want to imagine what your reaction will be.”

  His eyes widen, jaw clenching at my words, but he says nothing.

  “I can’t even warn you. I can’t even say goodbye.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Perhaps that’s what this is. My mind’s way of letting me pretend I can.”

  “Then pretend with me.” His words come out low, and I swear there’s a hint of a tremor to them. He beckons me forward. “Lay with me.”

  My face crumples, and I fold myself into him, burrowing into his bare chest. He pulls the blanket over us, arms wrapping around me as I breathe in his rosemary and cinnamon scent. I’m surprised I can conjure the scent within this dream, yet the certainty that this is a dream remains. Aspen’s arms don’t feel as heavy as they should, the blankets not nearly as warm. Yet
, I enjoy it all the same.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers into my hair. “I should have been with you every night like this. I never should have let my pride keep us apart.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything,” I say, the beating of his heart pulsing against my ear. “All of this still would have happened.”

  “But we would have had this.”

  “It only would have made things harder.”

  “Perhaps it should have been harder.” His tone deepens. “Maybe I should have fought harder to keep you here.”

  “I would have fought back even more.” We fall into silence, and I know that means the dream is coming to an end. With that knowledge, I cling tighter, willing this moment to remain frozen in time. My heart races as I wait for the dream to fizzle into nothing, for my body to jolt awake in Mr. Meeks’ guest room. But the dream remains, and all I can do is revel in the sound of Aspen’s heart, in the feel of his breath stirring my hair.

  9

  The dream is the first thing I remember when I wake. I feel hollow in its absence, wishing it had been real. I can hardly shake it, not even as Lorelei and I get dressed and prepare for our day. It isn’t until the two of us are in Mr. Meeks’ carriage that I finally manage to tuck the dream away. That’s when more pressing concerns flood my mind.

  I’m about to see my mother. I’m about to see her in jail.

  It’s a comfort that Mr. Meeks loaned his carriage and driver to me, allowing me and Lorelei privacy for our visit. The fewer witnesses to my anxious state the better. It’s still perplexing to consider everything that has happened, and I’m not sure what to expect from my conversation with my mother. At least I’ll know the truth once and for all—whether she truly hid my heritage or if the human council is as devious as Aspen suspects.

  I’m shaking by the time the carriage comes to a stop outside the jail. The small justice building is in the village plaza on the south end of Etting’s street, several blocks from the apothecary. The morning is cool with a light drizzle of rain greeting us as Lorelei and I exit the carriage. The driver gives me a nod. “I’ll wait here for you, Miss Fairfield.”