To Love a King (Court of Annwyn) (4 page)

“So you assumed the worst?”

He had, and he should’ve known that she would never do that. When he didn’t answer straight away, she stood up.

He stood too. If he was to have any hope, he had to be honest with her. “You’re right. I thought your parents had found out and had talked you around. I thought you’d gotten scared. Hell, that you’d changed your mind about everything I’d said. You told me fairies weren’t real, as if you were denying my existence, our child’s existence. What was I supposed to think?”

“You could’ve come back and asked me. You could’ve done something instead of run.”

“I didn’t know how to deal with it any better than you.”

“You should’ve been there for me.” She was almost snarling, as if all the old hurt was rising back up.

He took a breath and refused to drown in those emotions again. “Yes, I should have been. But I can’t change that. It’s been seven years for you; for me it feels much more recent.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly. He’d seen that look before, when he’d told her he was fairy. “You’ve been in Annwyn this whole time?”

Except for a few mortal hours here and there. “Politics are bad, factions are working against me. I was trying to numb the pain and pretend it never happened.” He shook his head. He didn’t know what else he could say. Nothing he did or said could change what had happened, as much as he wished otherwise. All that wasted time. If he’d been with her, they could’ve gotten through it together. Sulia and her schemes had taken the one thing he valued more than the throne of Annwyn.

***

Jacqui looked at him again, and this time he didn’t bother to hide the hurt in his eyes. It would be so easy to believe him. And if he’d been there when she’d needed him, she would’ve believed him without a doubt. The bright yellow flowers lay on the bench, and he was apologizing for something that had happened years ago as if it were recent news. While it was nice to hear, she didn’t need it. She didn’t need him.

“It happened; you ran.” She looked away and stared at the waves, the happy couples and families on the beach, all without a care. Maybe on the inside there was turmoil, but to the casual observer, they seemed to be enjoying life. That could’ve been them. It could still be them. He was here…seven years too late, but he was here. She pushed the thought aside. “I fell once and I got hurt. I can’t do it again.”

“I never meant to hurt you. Things were dangerous.”

She spun back to face him, the breeze tugging at her curls and pulling them free. “You always said that. Has nothing changed for you?”

He paused, and she could see him thinking, trying to work out how to answer her. He wouldn’t lie, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth either.
Secret
fairy
business.
God, she didn’t miss that. The never knowing when to expect him or for how long he’d stay. Could they have even lasted as a couple?

“Things have changed. None for the better.” He smiled, but it was forced. “Tell me about those missing eight weeks. You always used to fill me in on what had happened while I was gone.”

“That’s because we were together. We aren’t anymore.”

“I didn’t stop caring, even when I was convinced you’d cut out my heart and dropped it on the floor.”

The retort she’d been about to make died on her tongue. She realized that from his position on her parents’ doorstep, that day looked very different. By the time he’d returned and knocked on the door, she’d listened to too many people bad-mouth him and popped too many pills to think clearly. She’d been numb, and seeing him had only brought back the pain and the feelings of abandonment. She couldn’t do that again, and yet talking to him now felt natural—as though they were just catching up.

“When my parents wouldn’t let up about where you were, I told them you were a fairy.” That had been her first mistake. It had been rapidly downhill from there.

Felan winced. He knew them well enough to know what that meant; he’d had dinner at their house a number of times. They still hadn’t trusted him. He was too smooth, too rich, too something. But the more her mother had interfered and tried to discourage the relationship, the more Jacqui had enjoyed it, reveling in the rebellion and him. Around him, she’d always felt special.

“I’d also started seeing things, flickers at first. Then, after I’d been in hospital, they became solid.” She knew what went bump in the night and it wasn’t pretty. “Anyway, I wasn’t coping with the loss, and then I was talking about seeing monsters and fairies, so they took me to a shrink who put me on meds. When you finally showed up, I didn’t want to see you. You had wrecked my life without a backward glance.” She picked up her handbag and the flowers, hoping he’d be happy with the answer and that he’d gotten what he needed to leave her alone.

“I’m sorry.” He touched her hand for a moment and her skin warmed.

“It’s too late for sorry.” She gave an awkward shrug. Was there anything she wanted from him anymore? She looked at him without getting caught in his cool, green gaze. He still had the power to make her heart flutter like a butterfly in the breeze. There was one question she had left unanswered. “What are the monsters I see?”

He looked at her for a moment, shock on his face for a second before he masked it. He’d always been able to set his expression to unreadable very quickly. It wasn’t natural, but then again, he wasn’t human.

Felan took a few paces and turned to look at her, as if expecting her to fall into step like she once had. He’d always liked to be moving when having difficult conversations. Maybe that was a habit that came from being at Court—if he stopped too long, someone would overhear. She’d always suspected his life in Annwyn wasn’t easy, but he’d never shared the bad bits. If he wanted to be moving for this, it wasn’t going to be a nice, simple answer. Her heart sank a little. She’d wanted simple with a simple solution. She caught up with him and they started following the path that ran alongside the beach.

“They aren’t monsters. They are banished fairies.”

“Banished fairies? They don’t look like you.” Did all fairies look like him? Pretty, sharp, and sensual all in the same heartbeat.

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Greys are cut off from the Court, so they lose their looks as they slowly fade away to ugly nothing. It’s a slow death and our harshest punishment.”

Right, that explained why some were big and some were small, but all were ugly. “I thought it was being pregnant with a fairy child that made me see them, but it didn’t stop afterward.” She’d thought it would, had hoped it would, but instead it had become worse. “You didn’t send them as punishment for losing the baby?”

“No!” He looked aghast. “I never wished you ill. Mostly I just wished I’d been with you instead of in Annwyn.” He sounded so wretched about it that she began to realize that he was still coming to grips with the loss. How deep did his feelings for her run? It didn’t matter. She just wanted to be rid of the monsters.

“How can I stop seeing them?”

“You will always see Greys.”

She stopped walking. “What do you mean? I’m stuck seeing
Greys
for the rest of my life?” He’d never told her that would be a side effect of being pregnant. She didn’t want to always be watching where she looked in case she gave herself away.

Felan turned and looked at her. “When a human eats or drinks food from Annwyn, it binds them to the Court as well as giving them the ability to see fairies.”

“I’ve always been able to see you.” When had he fed her food from Annwyn?

“Because I use magic to be seen while I am here.”

“Like now?”

He nodded and started walking again, and she followed. “The wine we celebrated with was from Annwyn. I was so sure we’d be together I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t realize seeing the Greys would scare you.”

It took a couple of steps for her to realize what he’d said. “You gave me wine from Annwyn, deliberately?”

“I thought we were going to be together. I wanted you to be able to see any threats, instead of letting them sneak around you.”

“You never told me that.” What a fool she’d been to ever trust him. She took a step away from him, certain he wasn’t back in her life just to catch up. Her grip on the flowers tightened. Should she have accepted them?

“I didn’t get around to it.” He smiled and his face softened for a moment. “We were too busy celebrating.”

And then he’d left and hadn’t come back until it was too late.

Felan stopped. “What fairies have you seen?”

“None recently. I stopped taking meds and learned to ignore them. When the monst…Greys believed I couldn’t see them, they stopped bugging me.”

“That’s good. Ignoring them is the best way to stay safe. Have you seen any Court fairies, pretty fairies?” His gaze slid across the people around them, never stopping, yet she knew he was taking in everything.

“Only a couple, mostly in a crowd—none since I moved to California. Why?” She shifted, suddenly concerned. The old fear of fairies and being viewed as delusional returned and gave her heart a squeeze. This wasn’t a normal conversation, and she’d spent years trying to be normal again. A few minutes with Felan and it all came undone.

“You knew every time I saw you it was a risk. That someone might follow me and try to use you against me. That hasn’t changed. If anything, things are more precarious.”

“And you decided now was a good time to drag your baggage to my door?”

“I wasn’t ready to come back sooner. This is all fresh for me. It hasn’t been years in Annwyn.”

She sighed and tried to remember how she’d felt only a year or so after their breakup, but it was a drug-induced haze. Part of her life had been absorbed into a place where time seemed to stand still and days bled into each other. While he might still be dealing with the fallout, she wasn’t. “I’ve moved on, Felan.”

“You’re with someone?” He stepped back as if surprised.

She was so tempted to lie and say yes so he would leave. But she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t lie to him. There’d been too many half-truths and misunderstandings. He’d been honest with her, and she had to be honest with him. The way they had been once…maybe. He’d lied, or at least left out the truth about the wine. What else had he misled her on?

“No, but I know you. I know that you come and go as you please, and I need more. I
deserve
more.” If he could promise to never leave, that he’d be there when she needed him, she’d be tempted to play with fire again—it was hard to let go of something that had felt so good when it was going well. Of course, when it all went wrong, it hurt far worse than anything she’d ever known.

“I have responsibilities—”

“Exactly.” Somewhere in her teenage heart, she’d once hoped that he’d give them all up for her. She knew now that was never going to happen.

“Annwyn comes first. It has to.” His voice was soft and sharp. She glimpsed the Prince and the man he was in Annwyn. There was no joy, only work. She had been his fun times, R and R in the mortal world.

“And that’s never going to change.” She turned around and walked away, half expecting him to follow and put up an argument, half hoping that he would. He was a mistake she’d happily make again.

Don’t look back. Just keep going.

Felan watched her walk away. He took a step after her, then changed his mind and started back toward the cemetery where he’d crossed the veil. She was right. Annwyn was always going to come first; he didn’t have a choice about that. He blinked slowly and let the glamour go, invisible now to everyone except those who could see fairies, like changelings and people who’d tasted fairy food or wine.

Even though most people could not see him, they still avoided where he was, as if unconsciously sensing he was there.

Hearing the truth from Jacqui’s lips had only made him realize what he’d lost. No, not lost—thrown away because he’d been unable to see past his own pain. Talking to Jacqui had only reopened the wound. He wanted her the same way he always had. Time away hadn’t diminished that, but it had changed the way she felt about him.

He was no longer enough.

He was a virtually immortal fairy Prince, and she wanted more. He shook his head and tried not to let the bitter laugh escape. He could give her a life beyond the mortal world, one that would last for centuries, and it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because he’d never directly explained what he could offer her. She could have a life few even dreamed of, and she’d live for centuries with him as they ruled Annwyn. He’d just assumed, once she knew he was fairy—and the Prince—that she also knew they would live in Annwyn.

But he’d never actually asked her to be his Queen. Perhaps he’d been a little afraid she’d say no—he
still
wasn’t ready to hear that response—nor had he ever stated exactly what would be required of her to save the mortal world. He’d just expected that because they were in love it would all fall in place.

Apparently not. He kicked a soft drink can and watched as it scuttled down the sidewalk. And they weren’t in love anymore. They were someplace where love cast a long shadow but it hurt to step into the sun.

Any other woman would’ve jumped at the chance to take what he had, but not Jacqui. It was her refusal to grab the power being offered that kept drawing him back to her. Even if he didn’t still love her, that quality still made her an ideal candidate for Queen. She wouldn’t be corrupted by Court. That she still looked at him with more heat than she should if she were truly over him—and he was damn sure he hadn’t hidden his feelings very well—gave him hope that perhaps there was still some love.

He still didn’t know the answer to his problem. He could pursue her and hope their love grew back, risking making her unhappy for millennia, or find someone else and risk a cold, power-hungry bitch like his mother who would sacrifice her grandson in a heartbeat if she thought it would bring her more glory. After his mother had involved Caspian in her plot with her lover, and a subsequent attack on the woman who was now Hunter of Annwyn, he wasn’t bothering to try and defend her. Annwyn was safer with his mother locked up.

He really didn’t want to end up married to someone like her because he was in a rush—just like his father had been. Damn his father and his deadline. In the same breath, he knew his father didn’t have the strength to give him any more time. He wasn’t ready to lose his father.

A few blocks away from the shore, he reached the church and the cemetery. It was quieter here—the tourists and shoppers stayed close to the beach—and he was glad to put some distance between him and the ocean.

He buttoned up his knee-length waistcoat and made sure his clothing was neat. Then he ran his fingers through his hair and hoped he looked calm, as if he hadn’t been anywhere interesting. At least he could use monitoring the tearing veil as an excuse to spend more time away from Annwyn.

Just before the threshold, he hesitated. His skin was still warm from the California sunshine, but he could feel the chill of Annwyn in his blood. Even before he was fully across, the cold was crawling over his skin and sucking away the heat.

This was why Annwyn had to come first.

Through the doorway, the ground was crisp with frost. The grass was virtually dead; the field where people had once played boule and watched the doorway was now more like a muddy paddock with frost rimming the edges of the puddles. The trees were bare, all but the last few leaves had fallen, and there were no new buds. His breath clouded in front of him as he walked. It wouldn’t be long until snow not only fell but settled.

The castle was grim, a skeletal reminder of the summer days now past. The Court had just celebrated the midsummer festival. They’d danced and ignored the falling leaves. The festivals were tied to the mortal world, while the seasons of Annwyn were tied to the King and Queen. With the Queen imprisoned, things were getting cold fast. Felan was almost missing California, ocean and all.

He walked into the castle. Where once the ground had been a lush carpet of grass that always sprung back, it was now mud churned up from being walked on. In the main hall, people were dining and dancing as if nothing was wrong, but the hems of their dresses and cloaks were now edged with dirt, not gold or silver.

They chose to ignore the failing magic and carry on playing, hoping the problem would get solved. Some were on his side; others were on Sulia’s. Some were hedging their bets and watching both sides while committing to none. Those were the ones he really needed to watch.

“So glad you could join us.” Sulia stood, a glass goblet in her hand. The cut of her dress emphasized the gentle rounding of her stomach, revealing how she threatened the throne. She was not far along but enough that she looked like a sure thing to claim the throne; plus, she now had her human consort here. She’d snuck him across the veil while Felan had been away. He gritted his teeth but refused to let the tension show.

The man next to her stood and gave Felan a look mortals usually reserved for gum stuck to a shoe. Others at Sulia’s table turned to look at him, none of them with the slightest bit of respect. It was as if he were interloping on a private dinner.

Nice.
Felan didn’t acknowledge the mortal.

The chill in the air thickened and settled around him like a wet, heavy wool blanket. Sulia was holding court—or at least pretending to. She had the man she wanted on the throne with her, a mortal willing to give up his soul to save Annwyn, and a child growing in her belly that would secure succession. It was no wonder that she was gaining supporters.

She was looking brave and strong while he was looking weak and afraid, as if he couldn’t protect his future Queen if he brought her here. To many that would be a sign that he wasn’t fit to rule. Yet Sulia had made no public declaration of her claim.

Felan carefully noted each fairy that was in the chamber and was relieved to find that the ones he considered loyal to him weren’t there. But that could’ve been because they were being careful. He didn’t know whom he could trust these days.

“Someone has to stop the veil from totally disintegrating.”

Sulia shrugged, her white-blond hair trailing over her shoulder in a long braid elaborately threaded with silver and gems. “What are a few less humans? There are billions of them. They won’t miss a few.”

Her Court laughed as if she was making a joke.

“I’m sure all mothers miss their children, and children miss their mothers.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall made of a tree, trying to look as relaxed as ever.

Her hand brushed her stomach and she smiled, as if she didn’t care what he thought. He knew her goal, just not how she planned to achieve it or when. He really needed to act first and cut her off before she could finish what she’d started. That meant he had less than two weeks.

When the fairies looked at her, did they see the Queen they wanted to rule them? Or simply a return to spring and summer? Probably both. They knew Sulia would continue with the parties and gambling and deal making that his mother had encouraged. It was familiar, and Felan wanted change—not that he’d said it in as many words. After all, to most, he was nothing but the wastrel Prince. A part he had played too well.

Sulia walked toward him, her red dress trailing in the mud and a cruel smile pasted on her lips. “You haven’t brought your beloved to Court?” She trailed her fingers over his chest, but he kept his face a perfect mask. He was used to hiding everything at Court.

“Why would I bring her so soon?” He caught her hand and kissed her fingers.

“So we can judge her worth.”

“My choice of consort is of no one’s concern but mine.”

“Or maybe you don’t have one.” She plucked her fingers free and grinned at him.

That was what everyone thought. And they’d be right. But he didn’t need to let anyone know that. He would have someone before the two weeks were up. Sulia would be taking the throne only after she’d drowned him in the river of damned souls.

“I value her safety. I know our history, Sulia, even if you don’t. Human consorts have been murdered before by rival factions.” His father and uncle had fought viciously for several years, killing many lovers in an effort to secure the throne. It was how his father had ended up with Eyra. She hadn’t been his first choice, or even his second, but she had been there and she knew how to rule, and at the time, that had been important.

Sulia’s back stiffed and she half turned. “Do you not trust me?”

“I’m the Crown Prince of Annwyn.” He paused and let the words sink in. Let her supporters think again about who they were backing. But perhaps they didn’t have a choice. Many of them would’ve made deals and promises, and wound up trapped and on the wrong side. “I don’t trust anyone.”

Sulia tossed her head. “You are too much like your father.” It was aimed as an insult, and to many it would be. They saw Gwyn as a King who’d let his wife control everything, when, in fact, he’d been mitigating any damage Eyra would do for well over a human millennia. Now Gwyn was old and tired.

“And you are too much like my mother.” Now that was an insult.

“I know how to run the Court. I have broken no rules.”

Yet.

“Let’s keep it that way. I’d hate to send the Hunter after you.”

She laughed, and it echoed in the cold hall. “That little chit barely knows which end of the sword to hold.”

That may have been true at the start, but Taryn merch Arlea was doing everything a good Hunter should, including supporting King and Prince. She’d quite happily stick the blunt end of the sword through Sulia too if she thought it would get her back to the mortal world faster. The love that Taryn and Verden had was what he wanted. Not even Verden’s banishment had touched it. It was possible for a fairy to love and be loved so deeply they forgot about status and deals and the things that most Court fairies considered important.

If Sulia ever caught on to the half-truths Felan was telling, there would be trouble. He couldn’t appear to be lying or no one would trust him. He trusted Taryn, Verden, Dylis, and Bramwel, and also Caspian. That was five people, not enough to win the throne if it came to war. But it might be enough to steal it before Sulia sat on it and proclaimed herself Queen.

He’d still back himself in the battle for the throne—but not for much longer if he didn’t do something soon.

“You mock the Hunter?” Aside from the King, the Hunter held the most power and sway. Taryn, who was only doing the job until a new King, or Queen, sat on the throne, could arrest fairies if she thought they were committing treason. She was also spending a lot of time training with Verden and was far more dangerous with a sword than Sulia gave her credit for. Not that Sulia needed to know that.

Sulia rested her hand on the human’s shoulder. “No, just stating a fact.”

“I’d hate to think you were questioning my father’s choices—he is King after all.” Felan walked out of the hall before Sulia could think of a retort. He wanted her followers to question what they were doing and why. While he couldn’t free them from the deals they’d made, he could at least make them think about where they were placing their loyalty.

Felan walked down the corridor, shadow servants hovering at the edges, waiting to be commanded. There were more of them than there had ever been. What was his father doing?

What was he going to do?

Since his father wasn’t in the main hall, he would be in the Hall of Judgment.

The doors opened as he approached. The last time he’d been in here, his mother had been sentenced and Taryn had been made temporary Hunter after Verden had been banished. While Taryn wouldn’t have been his first choice, she was the best choice, given that it was only for two weeks, especially as she was going to leave Court at the end. Usually the Lord of the Hunt was a coveted role, but this close to the end of a King’s rule, no one wanted to be on his Council, as all knew the new King, or Queen should Sulia win, would pick a fresh Council.

Gwyn sat on his throne as a procession of almost-transparent souls filed past. When the King was judging souls, doors on the sides of the room opened to allow the souls passage. From one side they came in; then they paused by the throne, only to be sent to one of the two doorways on the other side. One was a doorway that led over the river, in much the same way the veil divided the mortal world from Annwyn, and the other went down to the river. Felan had been shown both but passed through neither—doing that would result in his death.

The door the souls entered the Hall through was the center of Annwyn. Once, long before fairies took over Annwyn, souls would have arrived here and had to figure out their own afterlife. Some would have found it easy to cross the river while others would have naturally drowned, and others would’ve been trapped and unable to move on until they finally worked it out. Back then the river had been more like a choppy ocean, or so the singing stones said. When he was younger, he’d made a point of learning everything he could about the past, including the way the fairies had taken over the sorting of souls and the creation of the Hall of Judgment.

With the King now judging and the souls passing through quickly instead of lingering, the battle between life and death in the mortal world had turned. Fairies had allowed humans to multiply and spread, and in exchange, they had forgotten about the old ones who held the mortal afterlife in their hands.