Cast in Faefire: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Mage Craft Series Book 3) (17 page)

K
onig didn’t return
to Marion’s bedroom after their fight. She didn’t know if she should have been grateful for that or not.

The argument seemed like such a simple misunderstanding, requiring minimal explanation to sort things out. But she needed his patient attention in order to do that.

Marion could forgive him for the incident, if he’d forgive her for hurting him first.

It was all so
fixable
.

Wedding preparations churned on.

Heather retrieved Marion from bed at first light. “Can’t sleep in on your wedding day,” the archer said.

Marion hadn’t slept at all. She’d spent the night hugging her pillow, watching the curtains flutter, and wondering if she’d made a mistake. There hadn’t been anything else she could do.

It was likely that she should have spent those hours talking with the council in order to squeeze a few last-minute votes in her direction, but she hadn’t been able to move without grimacing. That last strike Konig had flung in her direction had left her badly bruised.

She kicked the sheets off. “Oh, thank you,” she said when she realized Heather had brought breakfast in on a tray.

“You need your strength,” Heather said.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but where’s Nori? She usually assists me.”

Heather shook her head. “Busy with other wedding stuff. I think she’s assisting Konig today.”

The mere mention of his name made Marion’s stomach flip. She didn’t have much of an appetite.

It wouldn’t do to faint when she was walking down the aisle, though.

Marion ate on her balcony, where she could watch the rest of the Autumn Court bustling with activity. Security had tripled overnight. The forest outside her balcony teemed with people, most of them human-looking, though it was hard to tell preternaturals at that distance.

She could tell when the other guests began arriving from Earth specifically because security began swarming her lawn, forming rings of protection. They were sparing no expense to ensure Arawn couldn’t reach her.

The guards shouldn’t have worried. Arawn’s people couldn’t touch sunlight, and it was a sunny day in the Autumn Court. Nothing stood between Marion and her wedding with Konig.

Marion was safe. She had never been safer in her life.

Why did she feel so vulnerable?

“How are arrivals going?” Marion asked.

“Great. We’ve got every ley line wide open and everyone in the court is helping escort guests. You wouldn’t believe who Violet managed to talk into attending.” Heather ticked the list off of her fingers. “Actors, human politicians, the press, some great bloggers, sidhe from the other courts…”

“Lovely.” None of those people were showing up for her. They were just there to see the event of the century. “I trust that there’s no sign of danger if you’re here with me.”

“We’ll know if anything happens. I’ve got all my people on the lookout.” Heather leaned her elbow on the balcony, smiling down at Marion. “They’ll be your people soon. You excited?”

“I am,” Marion said. That wasn’t even a lie. She’d soon be wearing the diadem of a queen, on a throne overlooking a mighty kingdom, and that was where she was meant to be.

Excitement wasn’t her only emotion, though.

“These eggs are overcooked,” Marion said.

Heather picked up the plate. “I’ll have new ones made. Be right back.”

As soon as she left, Marion went to the overnight bag she’d packed for the wedding. She had brought the bottle of water from Mnemosyne as an afterthought without expecting to need it. But now Marion was going to marry Konig, and she wanted to do it remembering everything.

Marion needed to remember how she’d loved him. Their first meeting, the first swoons of passion, their long nights together. Whispers shared one long day in Konig’s bedroom weren’t enough to comfort her anymore. She needed to become the old Marion again—the woman whom everyone hated.

Better hated by everyone than petrified of marrying Konig.

She twisted the cap off of the bottle. Seth had filled it to the point where the surface shivered a centimeter from the mouth.

“Please,” Marion whispered, unsure of what she was asking for.

She drained the bottle, throat working, lungs tightening, heart pounding.

The memories seemed to radiate from her stomach where the water settled.

Marion remembered that garden again—that vast, blue-tinted expanse with trees thicker than any on Earth. She remembered running with a boy much older than her. Playing with him. Laughing.

She also remembered sitting beside a lake with Rylie. She remembered the Alpha sharing words of warning with her, though not the specific language. Rylie had looked stern. She had looked angry. And Marion remembered feeling surprised that Rylie could get that kind of angry, because Marion had never seen her in such a mood before.

None of that was as important as the toddler that was seated beside Rylie’s legs as she spoke. Like the teenager Marion had seen in the garden, he had soft black hair and brown skin.

The Wilder coloring, Marion now knew.

And she remembered dreams of war and fire, and standing among a field of bodies while feeling responsible for what had happened to them.

Those memories were things she’d remembered before—back when she’d touched Seth, skin to skin, before knowing he was Seth.

Some of the things the water of Mnemosyne made her remember were from that time, too.

Waking up in the Ransom Falls hospital with Seth’s name on her lips.

The doctor, Lucas Flynn, remaining by her side through medical testing. His reassuring presence hadn’t waned in the days that followed, like at the bookstore where the seller had hated preternaturals. Or when she had almost been killed by an assassin in the Autumn Court.

Seth was everywhere in her mind—filling every nook and cranny of who she was.

There was nothing from
before
.

Marion dropped the water bottle with a gasp, shocked back into her skin.

The river hadn’t helped her remember because those memories had all been taken away, destroyed in the Canope. There was nothing to restore.

She didn’t feel differently about Konig.

And she definitely didn’t feel differently about Seth.

Heather knocked on the bedroom door. “I’ve got your eggs.”

Marion swiped her hands over her cheeks, rubbing away moisture. Then she tossed the bottle into the recycling. “Come in.”

The archer brought eggs that were slightly runny, which was perfect. They didn’t look remotely appetizing.

“Better?” Heather asked.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Marion said. “Bring in the stylists. I want to get dressed now.”

There was no point delaying the inevitable.

* * *

“
T
ip your head
,” said the hairstylist. Marion obediently did as told, allowing her hair to spill down her back.

The stylist was one of a dozen attendants working on Marion in a flurry of wild activity. They were tugging on her hair, brushing makeup over her eyes, concealing tiny blemishes on her chin.

At some point, she’d been instructed to step into fancy underwear, and she had. They hadn’t been able to cinch it yet. They were waiting on a healer to repair the bruising that Konig had delivered the night before. Nobody had asked how she’d been injured. They’d just seen the mottled markings and called for a witch.

Once she was healed, the dress itself would come next.

“I don’t feel well,” Marion said, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“That’s normal.” Heather reclined with her boots propped up on the vanity, still wearing the Hound-hide trousers. “Everyone feels like that when they’re about to get married.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Chin up.” Nori’s tone was a little too sharp to be consoling. She’d arrived to help dressed in the gown selected for Marion’s bridal party, which was an icy shade of blue to honor the Winter Court. “You’re about to marry the most desirable member of the sidhe royal families. You’ve got nothing to be nervous about.”

“Also true,” Marion said, even more faintly than before.

The hairstylist tugged too hard on her curls. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Marion wished she’d had a friend with her—someone who she could tell about what happened with Konig. It wasn’t like Heather would side with Marion. Heather had been guarding Konig since the two of them had been toddlers.

If Marion’s mother had been there… Or even Dana…

But not a single person that she could describe as a friend was going to attend the wedding, much less help her prepare for it. She had to sit there, surrounded by stylists assigned by her soon-to-be mother-in-law, unable to say a single word crossing her mind.

A tear escaped to slide down her cheek.

“Don’t do that,” said the sidhe doing her makeup. “You’re going to destroy the mascara.”

Marion stood suddenly. The chair swiveled, its arms knocking into her stylists.

Her reflection in the elaborate underwear and makeup was stunning—exactly the way she’d want to look on her wedding night, her first evening shared with her husband.

She wanted to leap off of the nearest waterfall into a chasm.

“I need to be alone,” Marion said.

Nori checked her watch. “You have to start pre-ceremony press soon. We’ve booked an exclusive interview with January Lazar to precede the council’s vote, and then you’ve got about fifteen minutes to relocate to the venue for the ceremony…”

And that was assuming the ceremony would happen at all. Everything hinged on the vote.

Marion fought to swallow down the burning in her throat. “Yes, I know I have a tight schedule. That’s why I need a few minutes to myself
now
.” Imperiousness crept into her tone, and she embraced it—the one thing that might protect her. “I’m not making a request. Empty my rooms!”

She barely heard the sullen muttering from her stylists. She stormed to the balcony doors and glared out at the bright sky as they left. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep tears from sliding down her cheeks.

It wouldn’t do to ruin the stupid
makeup
.

As soon as her room was empty, she whipped away from the window, pacing across her room. She tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. She couldn’t inhale without her back hurting. Marion suspected that Konig had broken a rib when he’d thrown her.

“Get it together,” Marion hissed at herself, leaning on the vanity so she could glare at her beautiful reflection in the mirror. “Chin up. Stop weeping. You can do this!”

Motion stirred in the mirror over her shoulder.

She straightened, prepared to snap at whoever dared to intrude.

And then Marion saw Seth’s face.

He stepped out of the shadows by the closet. Light glimmered under his shirt, and it wasn’t as faint as it had been the night before. His wound must have been expanding around the edges of the glamour.

“Are you okay?” Marion asked, leaning back against the vanity. It was as much distance as she could put between them without going onto the balcony.

He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt. “Aside from a near-drowning, yes. It was my fault. I wasn’t prepared for where I’d find the darknet servers.”

“They’re
underwater
?” It certainly explained why she hadn’t been able to find them before. “At least you’re okay. Thank the gods—or thank
you
, I suppose. You should have been more careful.”

He wasn’t looking at her. “You might want to, uh…”

“What?” She looked down at herself. She was still wearing nothing but the underwear. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She took the silk robe off of her vanity and covered herself. “How did you find the servers?”

“Dana helped me. Oh, and I released her back to Vegas. Sorry.”

Marion might have been annoyed a few hours earlier, before Konig had visited her. Now she only felt numb. “That’s fine. I don’t care.”

Seth took a step toward her.

She jerked back reflexively, nearly knocking her makeup off of the vanity.

The clatter stopped him in his tracks. He hung back, confused. And why wouldn’t he? As Konig had pointed out, Marion had been dragging Seth off to shadowy corners the night before. Now she was trying to escape him. Talk about mixed signals.

Marion lifted her chin, reassuming her shield of arrogance. “Shouldn’t you be seeing Lucifer so that you can become a vampire now?”

“I wanted to talk to you first,” Seth said.

His tone was so much gentler than hers. If he’d gotten angry, she could have shoved him away, yelled at him to leave her room. But his calm wormed its way through her defenses like they weren’t even there. “What do you need?”

“You asked me to give a speech to endorse your wedding. The thing is, if I tell everyone I’m God, I’m going to have to be God. I’ll be shouldering all the responsibility that entails. I’ll be blamed for Genesis.”

He wanted to talk about Genesis now? Of all times? Marion couldn’t have cared less about any apocalypse, past or future. “I already told you that it’s fine if you don’t want to talk to the council. I’m sure Violet hasn’t slept a wink all night so that she could convince everyone to agree with us. I’ve the best sidhe politicians on my side. You don’t owe me anything.”