Bittersweet (29 page)

The queen's eyes narrowed and grew impossibly colder. “Why have you come? Surely you did not expect a grand and hospitable welcome. What purpose drew you into my court to face imminent death? Do speak now, whelp,” she said with sudden impatience. “And know that if you are caught lying I will cut out your tongue and feed it to the trolls.”

I shuddered, having no doubt she actually would. “We have a… request.” I took a tentative step forward, not fully convinced I wouldn't be cut down where I stood, for being so bold.

But she leaned back against her throne and tapped a broken fingernail impatiently. “You have my full attention. Come out with it. What is this request of which you speak?”

I glanced at Zanthiel, blood seeping from the iron chains binding his wrists and ankles. I couldn't let him continue to suffer. The poison would eventually seep into his bloodstream and kill him. Then she'd direct her wrath at me.

“You have to let him go,” I said.

“It's too late for that. He is dead to me now. All because of you.” She raised her staff.

“He's my husband.”

Everything froze.

Even the queen paused, mid-strike. Slowly she turned in my direction.

He voice dropped, bringing the temperature of the room to an arctic low.

“What did you say?” she hissed.

“I mean, he will be. We're going to be married.”

The silence could be sliced with a sword.

“That is,” I added, “if you let him live to fulfill the prophecy.”

“You are to be wed. To my son.”

This was the plan that would save my life, but in that moment with the queen's venomous glare on me, I was sure Hawthrin's advice was going to get us both killed.

Anger flashed in her eyes, showing her thoughts. Her fear of losing control, losing power… of giving up all she'd worked so hard to retain, to someone like me. But then her mood shifted, the wintry blast stilled and I knew she was also considering what our union might mean for her. Ruling all of Faery from behind the scenes with her son seating on the throne.

“In order for this to happen…” I spoke cautiously, not sure which of her two trains of thought would win out. Either she'd be all for it, or she'd have us beheaded where we stood. “I'd need your blessing.” I swallowed. “And your crown.”

 

 

The queen leaned forward; her gaze locked with mine for several long seconds. Finally, she folded her arms, her brows tightening in a frown. “A coup d'état, how delightful,” she sneered. “But
marriage
? We are not like you humans. A bond such as marriage can only be forged in love. How can such a union occur when you clearly do not love him?”

“I do.” I said it without flinching or pausing or tripping over my words. Hawthrin said we must be convincing. “I've come to love him.”

“And he you?” She scoffed. “Why marry, when you could have your way with her and be rid of this obsession for good?” She studied us both and then her gaze lowered to my stomach. “Are you with child?”

“No.” We both answered at the same time.

Zanthiel lifted his chin and I could hear his jaw grind before he forced himself to speak the words he'd hoped we'd never have to. “I want more than a mere dalliance. One taste was not nearly enough. I long for her as I do breath.”

A chill rippled through me at the rawness of emotion behind his words. I reminded myself they weren't real.

“You were right in your belief she has me bewitched, Mother. But no magic could conjure the feelings I have. I love her. She is under my skin, and I will never be free from her spell. Nor do I wish to. It seems marriage is a solution to many dilemmas. Including uniting the realms under one ruler.”

I nodded, moving closer to Zanthiel. When I could reach him, I placed my hand on his cheek and gazed in his silver eyes. “I never believed in prophecy, but he has shown me a different way. Our love is fated. I don't want to fight it any longer.”

He turned his head and pressed cool lips to my palm. I held my hand there, not only to sell the illusion, but because it felt sort of comforting. I lowered my hand and turned to face his mother.

This was the plan that would save my life, but in this moment, with the queen's venomous glare on me, I was sure Hawthrin's advice was going to get us both killed.

Anger flashed in her eyes. She feared losing power…giving up all she'd worked so hard to retain to someone like me. But I knew she was also considering what our union might mean for her.

She leaned back and folded her brittle hands under her chin. “Are you aware that what you are asking is treasonous, punishable by death?”

She didn't need a reason to kill me; the fact that I'd given her one hadn't put my life in any more danger than it was already in.

“I do. But I also know it's my birthright.”

She looked at her son. “A union forged by fate. How prophetic. Well then. So it shall be. If we are to be kin, then there is much you need to learn about our ways. About my land. And about me,” she said with a slow smile. “We must plan a fete at once.”

It didn't take a seer to know her sudden acceptance of me in her son's life had to do with an ulterior motive, one we might not discover for some time.

“That will not be necessary,” Zanthiel said. He'd been silent for some time. I knew he wasn't as okay with this as he was pretending.

“It's a little too soon to hand over the keys to the kingdom and throw a party,” I said. “I still have to convince the other rulers of Faery Courts to hand over their crowns. That is, if you are willing to give me yours.” I still had no idea what this woman was up to, or what she planned to do with me. For all I knew she could hand it over right now, but have it dipped in some sort of poison that would seep into my brain and cause a frontal lobotomy.

She smiled, bitter and sweet. “Of course, dear heart. I know of what you speak. Love. Madness. Hatred. Death. They are all a piece of life. And yet, you choose this path before you. I applaud your reliance and willingness to do the unthinkable. You demand my crown, and…” She rose and everyone in court sucked in a silent gasp. This was where she'd kill me. Or try to. I wanted to run, to close my eyes, to hide, but I remained frozen in place, my eyes glued to her every movement.

“And…” She waved her hand toward her guards. “You shall have it. Fetch my crown,” she said as she glided toward me, arms outstretched. “My willingness to let you both live is of course under the assumption that you will be successful in obtaining all three crowns of Faery. Summer, Winter and Shadow Courts. Should you fail, then, we will have to reconsider things. Once you have announced your engagement at the Mythlandria Solstice Ball, you will both be escorted back to me to plan the happy event.” She clapped her hands with a smile that looked almost genuine.

But as she embraced me in her cold thin arms, my heart hammered against my chest. This was more terrifying than any threat she'd made so far, because her easy acceptance foreshadowed something so much worse.

The Queen of Air and Darkness smiled at her son, a smile that radiated such warmth and emotion one would believe they shared a special bond, that is if one didn't know she had just tried to end his life for protecting mine.

“To spare a life is to take responsibility for it.” She lorded over me, her cold swirling around me like the fog from dry ice. “Is this what you choose, to give yourself freely to this Shadow faerie of the Winter Court?”

I watched him—the dark faerie I'd cared deeply for since the first time I'd met him so many years ago. He'd made me special, made me into more than what I was. And for that I owed him this. At the very least.

His lifeless eyes glinted silver, reflecting the harsh white light of day. Haunting and yet so strangely beautiful I couldn't look away. "Yes. This is what I want.”

Zanthiel winced.

"You understand that in undertaking this oath, you will be binding your soul to his.” She jabbed the air with her staff, pointing toward her son. “You will carry the chill of winter in your blood for all eternity?"

“Do not do this, Lorelei.” Zanthiel's words were halting. Life seeped from his body with every passing second as his mother held him pinned in place with her iron staff. He paused, glancing at me with pain in his eyes.

I looked away, refusing to let his stubbornness change my mind, and nodded.

"If you should take another you will never belong fully to them, but will always in part belong to him, and by extension... to me.” Her cold eyes gleamed, and she smiled ever so slightly. “Betrothal to another will not free you from your tie,” she warned. “Not until another accepts this fate, will you be free of the cold."

"I understand.” I nodded, ignoring the forceful thoughts Zanthiel was pushing into my mind. “
No. I won't let you die. I can't.
”

“Then kneel before me, whelp.”

Icy leaves brushed against my side as I bent down to kneel before Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness. The woman who gave birth to the faerie to whom I was now giving my soul. The prophecy was coming to pass.

She stepped toward me, her cloak moving of its own volition. As the shadows of the branches fell across me, a wisp of blue and black smoke curled from between her lips, and floated into mine. As it swept down my throat, my head wrenched back in agony. Ice coated my body from the inside out. I screamed in terror, then fell to the ground as everything went black.

When I opened my eyes it was darker. The sky had faded to a deep purple and torches had been lit within the frigid hall. How long had I been out? I climbed to my feet, unsteadily at first, but managed to remain upright. It was no longer as cold as it had been before. Or perhaps I wasn't as cold.

My head felt heavy, unbalanced. Lifting my hand, I placed it on top of my head, only to find the source of the weight. It was a crown. Fragile as light, yet heavier than solid gold. I lifted it and set it next to me, at once awestruck by its beauty and repulsed by what it represented. There had to be a way out of this.

Zanthiel was no longer strung up with iron chains. He'd been freed, and though the gashes and lacerations still covered his body, he was alive. Silently I exhaled a relieved sigh.

He extended his hand to me.

There was nothing of thanks or gratitude in his stare, only that familiar look of carefully controlled fury.

He pulled me to my feet and I leaned into him for support. The magic took so much out of me that standing on my own was pretty much impossible. I looked up at him, and his face warmed for a brief moment, then cooled again.

“Zanthiel, before you say anything, I'm sorry, but I did what I had to do. I don't expect you to thank me, but can we please just get past it and skip the lecture?”

He shook his head slowly and narrowed his gaze. “Thank you?” He scoffed. “I should end you myself. Do you see now why I told you to stay out of it? Chained for eternity to a being like me… you were right, you would be better off dead. Which is why I've decided you need to leave. Now.”

“Excuse me? No. No way. That's not the plan, Zanthiel.”

“The plan has changed. I have ordered Tilak to send you back while I return to the Winter Court to deal with my mother.”

“Not again.” I rolled my eyes. “Don't do this, Zanthiel. I can't leave. Not yet.”

“Perhaps you would rather we be wed?”

I stopped talking.

“Don't worry, Lorelei. I would never have agreed to the wizard's plan unless there'd been no other way.”

“And I would have? You act as if this is something I actually want.”

“Is it?”

I scowled up at him. “You and I together forever, I can't see that ending well. I mean, we make each other crazy; neither one of us would ever be happy again,” I muttered the last part, more to myself than to him. But he heard it, and laughed darkly to himself.

“Perhaps you should just save yourself the hassle and let Mab kill me now.” I shrugged, the strain wearing on me.

His smile faded. He stalked toward me, stopping only when we were inches apart.

“I'd prefer that you lived long enough to hate me for all eternity, Lorelei.” He spoke with a deadly serious tone. “Your safety will always matter more to me than your happiness. Emotions are fleeting. Your life cannot be.”

 

 

“It will take some time to prepare a fete befitting the new King and Queen of Faery. It would appear as if your attire would be better suited for one who is worthy of serving royals than being one. Of course, we are all in agreement that you could never successfully reign as queen in my land. You will fail, naturally. And when all falls to ruin, I shall be here waiting.”

I exhaled a small sigh of relief. “So you'll let him go?”

“No. I shall keep him here to ensure your return. I cannot have my future investment jeopardizing his life, should your quest fail. Or should you decide to break treaty and tend to other tasks.”

“But I can't do this without his help. You have to free him.”

“I do not have to do anything unless I so choose.”

A darkened shadow peeled itself from the wall and entered. Followed by a second and then a third. I swallowed, watching as they drifted idly to their master's side.

“Do you really need your minions by your side? We're just talking,” I said, feigning nonchalance.

“Yes, halfling girl, I do. Contrary to most other beings I have known, their loyalty to me is unconditional and uncompromising.” Her gaze raked over me once more. “Pure.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked, keeping a close eye on the smoky shapeless forms floating around me, leaving transparent trails of black as they passed.

“I have an offer. One you would do well not to refuse.”

An offer. From the Queen of Air and Darkness. This couldn't possibly be good. Bargaining with light fey was dangerous enough. This would be as good as making a deal with the devil. But once again, I found myself without more desirable options. If I wanted to save Zanthiel... “I'm listening,” I said smoothly.

Her lips pulled into a thin smile that nearly unglued the mask of calm I wore.

“I will deliver you to your father in the Shadow Court. So long as you and my son will be wed here, in my court. I know the Mythlandrian Court will hold ceremonies to call off the hunt for your head. All coronations are announced there. But the nuptials must be held here. In the Unseelie Court, home to my son's kin.

A wedding? That was her grand request?
I can imagine her poisoning the cake already
. “And if I agree to this, what reassurance do I have that you will let Zanthiel leave with me?”

“You have my word.”

I let out a short laugh. “And is that supposed to be enough?”

Her eyes flashed and the black smoke creatures hissed.

“She mocks you, my queen,” one whispered. “Let us end her right now.” Their words floated through the room, making it impossible to tell which, if any of the creatures, was speaking.

I shivered, but held my ground. They weren't the first monsters I'd met. Nor the worst. And not likely to be the last.

Queen Mab cocked a brow. “They are normally quite docile. Calm. You must bring out the darkness in them.”

Of course I did. I always have that effect on all demonic creatures. I frowned. “You haven't answered my question,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me.

One swooped at my head and I ducked. Then without warning, I lifted my hand and blasted a gust of wind in their direction. The smoky shifts hissed in unison, but floated back to the protective circle of their master.

Mab looked at me evenly. “They must not like you much,” she said with mock apology.

“Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual.”

“I am afraid you have no other option but to take me at my word. If my son is good enough for a creature such as yourself, then my word will have to suffice as well.

“Safe passage to the Shadow Court will be granted. Once there, you may continue on to the Mythlandrian Court. Once the coronation proclamation has been completed you will return to my kingdom—“

“You mean my kingdom,” I interjected.

“You will return to this kingdom,” she repeated bitterly, “along with my son, to rule all of Faery as its queen.”

****

Beyond the throne room was an open door. I followed the iced path to a frozen garden. Lifeless and still, the gnarled plants were coated in hoarfrost. Drifting snow led to a semi-frozen stream. Drifting ice formed floating stepping stones that led to a frozen wall across the stream. Queen Mab's crown was just beyond the floe, encased in the glacial wall. If I could reach it, I might just be able to claim it before she returned. I waded through the snow. It grew deeper with each step. This wasn't going to work. I'd be buried alive before I managed to get to the ice. I rubbed my arms, not feeling the cold against my skin, but rather the cold of someone's presence. I turned back. Then stopped. Zanthiel stood at the edge of the snow, his silver glare colder than the ice.

“What do you think you were doing in there?”

“Looking for the crown that will help me save the people I care about.”

“No, you're getting yourself killed.”

“I get it. You're still ticked at me for telling your mother about your plan. But I'm not leaving Faery, Zanthiel, my decision hasn't changed. And I'm not going inside with you until you accept it.”

“Lorelei, I said let's go.”

“And I said no.”

“Really?” He marched into the waist high snow and grabbed my arm. “Get inside now or I will carry you in myself.”

Two faerie guards came to the edge of the snow garden and paused to watch our heated exchange, smirks painted on their faces.

I glanced at them and then back at Zanthiel.

“Never mind,” I huffed, “I can walk by myself, thanks.”

One guard laughed and whispered to the other as we walked past.

Suddenly I wasn't the target of Zanthiel's glare anymore.

“What did you just say?” he said in a low voice.

The faerie lifted his head. “My lord?”

“It is disrespectful to whisper as your future queen passes.”

“Your queen? My lord?” I could hear the confusion in his voice, as clearly as the irritation in Zanthiel's. Guess he hadn't heard the happy news.

“I'd heard the Winter prince had taken a human girl for his companion. But I'd no idea it was so serious. She's rather plain, this one.”

“She's the Una Elcta. The one the prophecy told of.”

“She is but a plaything to you, is she not?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “Queen Mab said you'd have your wayward fun with her and be done with it.”

He arched his brow sharply. “She is no human girl, nor is she a plaything. She is a future queen of the fey. You'd do well to mind yourself, unless you wish for the swift taste of death.”

The young fey shook his head, bewildered. “I meant no disrespect, your majesties.” He offered a deep bow, keeping a cautious eye on Zanthiel. Or rather on his sword.

Zanthiel's eyes narrowed. “Get up, you fool. She's not your queen yet.”

The fey straightened, giving another quick nod in my direction. “My humble apologies. It's just her majesty… spoke of your new plaything, and I'd assumed…” His voice trailed off, most likely prompted by the pulsing of the vein in Zanthiel's neck.

The second guard who'd been quiet up until now scrunched up his face in disbelief. “Her? She's the chosen one? I don't believe it. She's too...” he stepped closer to me to sniff my face.

I stiffened. One day I would hit one of them with a little shove of magic for smelling me. But today wasn't that day.

“Believe it,” he said. The temperature plummeted.

Both faeries froze. They had to be familiar with his lack of patience.

The first guard bowed his head. “Apologies, my lord, I just assumed…”

Stop talking.
I wanted to offer that small bit of life-preserving advice, but it was too late.

“You assumed?” Zanthiel hissed. My breath froze and fell to the ground in tiny droplets which shattered on impact.

Zanthiel's fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, though he didn't draw it.

The fey cowered and backed away. They wanted to run, I could feel it, but they knew fleeing would only infuriate him more.

I placed my hand on Zanthiel's arm. It was more to help calm him than actually restrain him, but it seemed to serve both purposes.

“My mother, when did she tell you this?” Zanthiel asked. His voice had become quiet and deep, like he was reigning in his anger. It was as terrifying as the calm before an impending storm.

“Sh- she has been searching for you, my liege. When her guards could not find you, she told them to search for the half-human doll with dark hair you were amusing yourself with.”

I think I heard his teeth grind together.

“Go. Tell no one you saw us,” he barked. “Least of all the queen.”

The fey nodded and backed away a few paces before retreating back into the castle.

“She must be warming up to me,” I said quietly. “She didn't call me the halfbreed whelp this time.”

He didn't laugh. Not that I thought he would. His mother was dangerous. Her hatred of me, of his feelings for me, made for a potentially deadly combination. We both knew that. Yet Zanthiel, my sworn protector, found himself at odds between the family he still served, and me… the half human he could never truly have.

****

He forced me into the dining hall just as his servants were delivering steaming bowls of soup. “Sit down.” He gestured to the table. It was carved from a fallen tree, its roots still dug into the ground beneath the frozen floor. He pulled out a high-backed chair for me, but I shook my head. “No thanks.”

With a frustrated shrug, he sat, greedily pulling one of the bowls toward him.

We hadn't eaten for a long time, and I knew he was hungry. But this was more than just feeding his hunger. He was stewing over something, I could feel it.

Zanthiel's head was down, and he focused on ladling mouthfuls of the soup his mother had sent to us, without pausing in between spoonfuls.

I stared bleakly at our surroundings. “This is too easy,” I blurted. “Suddenly she's all in favor of us being together. Why?”

He didn't answer. He kept his head bent, but lifted his eyes to mine.

“Do you know what she wants?” I pressed, starting to pace.

“No, I do not.”

“Do you believe she's all for this now?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, are we going to find out?”

“Lorelei.”

I paused at the terse way he said my name.

"Stop asking me questions I cannot answer,” he said.

Lowering his gaze to his soup, he picked up his spoon then set it back down with a heavy sigh. “I believe she thinks she'll have a way to control things if we unite. Being her son, she presumes my allegiance.”

I leaned both hands on the table. “Is she right?”

He shook his head.

My anxiety lessened a notch. That might have been the
obvious
reason, but there was likely more to the story. There always was.

Zanthiel stilled, then looked up at me. “I received word from the dwarf. The Shadow Court has been breached. The security surrounding it will not be easy to penetrate for either of us, as a result.”

I stared at him. So this is what had brought on his particularly surly mood. “What does that mean? We can't get in?”

“We can,” he said slowly, then paused to consider his words, “But we will require a key.”

“A key. From where?”

“I do not wish to discuss it.”

“Well, I do.”

He gestured to my bowl. “You should eat and take some rest, Lorelei. We have a big journey ahead of us.”

He must have meant a big journey to find the key, because traveling to find my father was only one small step on our journey.

“I'm not hungry. Or tired.” I was of course, and the soup really did smell delicious.

I scanned the vast hall, its rows of enormous chandeliers, ornate ceiling tiles and icy floor. I couldn't imagine dining here for the rest of my life.

The servants entered with more freshly baked bread crusted with herbs and cheese. Giving up my stubborn refusal of food, I pulled out a chair and sat across from him.

We ate the rest of our meal in total silence.