To Love a King (Court of Annwyn) (10 page)

“I was busy. I got your invite, but I had a better offer.”

Her face contorted in anger for just a moment before she masked it. He kept his smile hidden. She was worried about this. Good. He walked a little closer. There were people hiding among the trees. He could feel them, the weight of their stares and the peculiar resonance that only a Grey had, as if they were a hollow vessel waiting to be filled.

“Was that before or after you stripped the trees from the sacred grove?”

This time he smiled. “This was no sacred grove. We both know you had planned to kill every fairy here.”

Her skin whitened a fraction more. “Oh, don’t tell me you are finally taking an interest in politics? Haven’t you left it a little late? It’s rather more complex than dancing or gambling.”

“Yes it is, but it’s my birthright.” He was quite happy to let her assume that he’d only just decided to pursue the throne.

“You think you are fit to rule simply because of the blood in your veins?” She laughed. “Tell me you’re not that gullible?”

“You think you are fit to rule? You’ve slept your way to this position, made deals, and taken hostages to force people to support you. Do not mistake bought loyalty for love.”

“Love? I don’t want love. I want to rule Annwyn and the mortal world. I want power.” She stood. Dressed entirely in white, she was ghostly. The only color was her red lips and nails. She was a vampire sucking the life out of the Court. She would turn the Court on itself just to watch the blue blood spill for her entertainment. She tilted her head and looked at him as if he were stupid. “Is that what you want? Love? Someone to warm your heart?”

“I want many things.” Staying in Jacqui’s bed and hearing her say she loved him was high on the list. Not letting Sulia anywhere near the throne was another.

“I’ll make you a deal, Felan.” She drifted closer.

He placed the blade between them. Sulia or his mother had tried to poison Taryn, and he wouldn’t put it past Sulia to try something underhanded with him. For all he knew her nails were tipped in poison and one scratch would kill him.

“You won’t hurt me. I’m unarmed and I’m pregnant.” She ran her hand over her stomach. “Do you know how many humans I had to sleep with? I have worked hard to be your rival; already the people are looking at me instead of you. I have an heir and consort, while you have nothing.”

“You haven’t seen my hand, so don’t be so sure.”

She laughed. “You bluff. Why not make a move? Come on, surely you want to end this winter?”

“When I am ready, I will.”

“When I’m ready.” She mimicked. “You will never be ready. You aren’t King material. Let us make a deal. We can save Annwyn and you can be free of the responsibility you shunned for so long.”

Was she so blind she still saw him only as a player and no one of substance? However, he saw no reason to disillusion her. What deal would she offer him? “What do you propose?”

She smiled so sweetly he wanted to gag. “People like you. I’ve seen the way you gather a flock around you. Plus you can dance and keep the Court happy while I do the important part of ruling.”

Felan raised his eyebrow.

“You get to continue as you have been. I’ll even let you keep your human lover, if you truly have one—she can even have a child—but you marry me.”

“And the mortal soul?”

“My consort will happily relinquish his.”

Right.
Her offer seemed to fit the requirements of saving Annwyn, but more importantly, she wasn’t directly ousting him—which told him more about her than she probably realized. She was worried she wouldn’t have enough support if it came to outright war. He decided to play along with her game. “So we would rule Annwyn together?”

Sulia nodded. “Perfect, don’t you think?”

“But what if I’d rather walk away?”

“And what? Live in the mortal world? As a Brownie, keeping house for some mortal?” She crossed her arms.

He was messing with her plan. He was aware of movement all around the grove. He was surrounded. This could get interesting.

“You’d give up all the glamour of Court for the mortal world? I don’t think so, Felan.”

Again she didn’t use his title; she was being too casual about all of this. But then again, maybe she didn’t expect him to walk out of here at all.

“So I rule with you or not at all?”

“Yes. That is my deal. Take it or die.” She stepped back, and from the trees, a dozen Greys emerged.

“I’d rather live and rule.”

“You want war?”

No he didn’t. He wanted to spare Annwyn and the mortal world as much as possible but that option was drying up faster than a puddle in the middle of summer. “You want to destroy Annwyn? Force a winter that will kill tens of thousands of humans?”

“I will do what it takes to win, Felan. You don’t have the balls. You won’t even lift your sword to strike me. You’re weak, and you’ll be a weak King.” She spun away and walked out of the clearing.

“At the moment, I am the only one in the game. You haven’t declared your intentions at Court.”

Sulia glanced back at him. “I intend to…it’s a pity you won’t be there to see me claim my birthright.”

Her
birthright.
She grinned as she saw the shock he’d failed to hide on his face. Edern had no children. She was lying. She had to be. Otherwise, why had she not made this proclamation before? It was one thing to challenge, but it was another to have a legitimate claim. He could almost feel Annwyn sliding through his fingers. She’d being playing her cards very close to her chest while seeing if she could gain support without the blood ties.
Cunning.

“So you have lied about name all this time…for what purpose?” Lying wouldn’t win her friends or favors at Court.

“I didn’t lie. I allowed the Court to believe that the people who raised me were my parents.” She smiled. “I too can split the finest points of truth.”

“But you cannot prove that Edern is your father either.” With Edern long dead, who would vouch for her lineage?

Her lips twisted. “It won’t matter, Cousin, as you won’t be around to challenge me.” She walked out of the clearing, moving like a ghost through the trees.

He took a few steps after her, but an army of Greys had him surrounded. He spun slowly, gauging each one. Some had given up stature and were small, like trolls, but most were taller; some were grotesque, as they’d sacrificed looks for size and power. It was impossible for a Grey to hold on to everything. At some point, they had to choose if they wanted to stretch out their sorry existence.

Were all of them here because Sulia had kidnapped a loved one? What if she got her hands on Jacqui? He knew even as he thought it that he’d do whatever Sulia asked to save Jacqui. He had to find a way to protect her without drawing attention to her.

A few of the Greys carried iron bars, gloves and cloth wrapped around their hands to stop the burn. Even still, holding it for too long would weaken them.

“I know she has your lovers or children captive.”

“You can’t help us. If your father had lifted the banishment, we’d have been on your side, and our families would have been safe.” Then the shortest Grey attacked, swinging the iron like he intended to take out kneecaps.

Felan jumped over the first swing and brought his sword down flat on the troll’s arm. Bone shattered and the iron fell to the ground. He didn’t want to be killing fairies of any kind. He didn’t want to claim his throne with blood.

“I have no feud with you. Walk away and I will do my best to find your families,” he said as he defended strikes. A few had been gifted swords—where Sulia had gotten them from, he didn’t know. Most had makeshift weapons. Something caught him across the back. Iron. He hissed and dropped to his knees. The Greys moved closer. He pulled the knife free of his boot, twisted around, and threw. It caught the Grey in the chest. He fell back, dead. Felan stood, swinging his sword to make room.

Some of the Greys backed off.

“Last chance, or I spare no one.” But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try and find the hostages. His back stung from the iron burn. The thin human shirt had done nothing to protect his skin.

For a moment there was hesitation, then they swarmed. He kicked and fought. Iron caught him on the arm. He snagged the knife from the dead Grey and threw it again. With each step, he tried to edge away from the clearing and put a tree at his back.

Metal on metal rang through the night, and it took a moment for him to realize he wasn’t the only one fighting the Greys anymore. Taryn was also attacking. The last four Greys ran.

The Hunter went to go after them.

“Let them go.” Felan drew in a breath. Adrenaline pumped through his system, his heart was racing and his breathing too shallow. “Where’s Sulia?”

“She didn’t come to the gate.”

“Call the hounds. I want her found.”

“You’re injured.”

“I’ll live. I want her found. Now.” His voice was harsher than he’d intended.

Taryn stepped back from him and whistled. Two white hounds with red-tipped ears shimmered out of the darkness.

He wiped his hand on his shirt, then realized the blood was his.

“Let me get you back to the gate first.” Taryn looked at him, and he saw the worry in her pale orange eyes. He was sure he was hurt worse than he looked.

“Go. I will make it on my own.” There was iron in his body. He could feel it burning and sapping his strength, but he needed Sulia captured before she could make her claim to the throne.

Taryn hesitated for a moment, something Verden would never have done, then left, following the hounds as they tracked Sulia.

Even as he seethed, he knew Sulia had broken no laws. She hadn’t made any deals with Greys, hadn’t actually attacked him herself. There were so many loopholes in fairy law. He straightened carefully, aware of the open wound on his back and a dozen smaller injuries.

That was the last time he played human for Jacqui. She would accept him as Prince or not at all. It was the last time he played the wastrel more concerned with games and dancing too. From here on in, he would be nothing but the rightful heir to Annwyn.

Felan walked back to Court. He’d made it to the gate, and just being back in Annwyn was making him feel better. The wound on his hand had almost stopped bleeding. His back hurt, and if he stood still too long, the world started spinning and tilting as if determined to throw him off. He needed to rest. But first he needed to let Sulia’s supporters see that he was fine and that she didn’t have the control or wit that he had. Even though at the moment he barely felt in control of putting one foot in front of the other. He made his way to the hall, where people would be eating and gambling and dancing.

As a shadow servant went past, he helped himself to a goblet of wine and a piece of cake. Both would go a long way to helping Annwyn heal his damaged body and slowing the effect of the iron. If he’d remained in the mortal world, the iron would have had greater and faster effect. Here, he could feel the ebb of strength and the increase of pain, the burning blistering his back and slipping into his blood.

His appearance in the hall almost stopped the music. It certainly halted conversation, which was exactly as he’d hoped. Expressions ranged from shock to carefully arranged concern. With his father’s withdrawal to the Hall of Judgment, this chamber was virtually Sulia’s. He needed to make a stronger showing and gather his supporters more visibly. His game was too subtle.

Of course, without Jacqui, he had no game.

Felan raised his goblet, the muscles in his back and shoulder protesting, but he didn’t let his expression change from mild boredom. “Carry on. Just ran into a bit of trouble.” He smiled like it was just a few scratches, but he could feel the iron beneath his skin. The wound on his back wasn’t healing. It wouldn’t until the iron was removed.

“What kind of trouble?” The man’s gaze skimmed over Felan’s blood-splattered clothing.

Felan had been counting on curiosity being roused. How many here knew that Sulia had set an ambush? Not enough that word had slipped to him early. He wished he had someone amongst her supports. If Taryn hadn’t been forced to become the Hunter of Annwyn, she would have been amongst Sulia’s ladies and become a spy for him. Perhaps the people dining were just shocked to see him so disheveled and battle weary.

“The Grey kind. Someone has been coercing them.” He looked carefully around the room. Sulia’s supporters, the ones he recognized, looked away. Some of them would have known her plan, and he wanted each of them to search their hearts and make sure they were backing the right heir. He wanted them to realize that it wouldn’t be simple to best him or remove him. He would fight the whole way.

“Perhaps you should take an escort next time you venture into the mortal world.” A man he didn’t recognize looked concerned—or he wanted to know where Felan was going.

“It’s a sad day when the Crown Prince of Annwyn cannot walk around without fear of attack. Until Sulia declares either her claim to the throne or war, I am the heir. Attacks on me are considered treason.”

“So declare war first.” The man shrugged.

“I will not pit fairy against fairy. I have no desire to drive Annwyn to snow.”

There was some muttered agreement and some argument. Had that point already passed? He glanced around the Court, the pretty people in their finery partying like nothing was wrong despite the mud on the floor and the bare branches on the trees. Would any of them lift a sword, or would they be more content to watch? A formal battle required at least twenty swords on each side. He’d much prefer a formal call than the small skirmishes his father and uncle had indulged in.

Jacqui deserved so much more than this, more than the bitter squabbles and double-edged games. But she would also bring humanity back to the Court, something that had been lacking for too long. She’d make love seem possible to all, instead of just a sign of weakness to be exploited. Annwyn would be better with her…would she be better with Annwyn?

Sulia’s offer flitted through his mind. Take Jacqui as his mistress and let Sulia rule while he lived free of the Court. If he did that, she would be accepted without a fight. There would be no winter. It would be over. But the idea made his blood run cold. How long before she would poison him and rule alone? She didn’t need him when it was her consort who’d sacrificed his soul. No, once the deal was done, Sulia would ensure she was the only one left standing. She had no honor. Her promises to him weren’t worth the breath they took to speak.

He had to act now, before Sulia regained control of the situation.

“I want a full Court meeting tomorrow. Spread the word.” His fingers loosened on the goblet, and the room grew darker at the edges. Noise seemed to vanish. He was in serious trouble. He let the goblet slide from his hand, and had turned before it hit the floor. All he could do was hope that it looked as though he’d deliberately dropped the goblet and not that it had simply slid from his fingers because he was too weak to grip it any longer.

He kept the charade together and made it to his chambers, where he collapsed facedown on the bed.

He’d nearly died in that grove. If Taryn hadn’t been there, he probably would be dead. He drew in a breath. It seemed like days had passed since Jacqui had kicked him out of bed and he was no closer to securing her affection than he was before. He wanted to remember the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin, but all he felt was the cold burn of iron and the leeching of his strength.

In mortal words, today had been an epic fail.

***

Felan opened his eyes, aware that someone was in his room. He hadn’t even realized he was asleep. His hand closed over his sword, though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to swing it.

“Stay your hand. Taryn sent word.” Dylis sat on the edge of his bed. She was supposed to be looking after his son. Now more so than ever. If Sulia knew about Caspian…he couldn’t even finish the thought.

“You should be across the veil.” His voice sounded rough to his own ear.

“Verden is there, guarding the house as you requested, and Bramwel is at the shop, watching over it. You have done all you can to protect what must be protected. Let me clean your wounds and make sure they are free of rusty pieces of iron.”

Felan grimaced. He knew it had to be done. That his back still ached and burned around the wound wasn’t a good sign. He hoped the wound wasn’t as bad as it felt and that it was just the failing of Annwyn making him heal slower than usual. The cold was in his blood, in every fairy’s blood. The cold bred corruption, and without the magic flowing thick in their veins, they were little better than Greys holding on to the memory of summer.

“Thank you.” There was nothing else he could say. After the power shift, Dylis would be his Hunter. A job she’d be good at. More importantly, she supported his plans to fix the Court and make it something to be proud of again, instead of a place of cruelty and calculations. She didn’t want Sulia on the throne—or anywhere near the throne.

“If you don’t get up, I will have to cut your clothes off.” There was a hint of mischief in her voice. Once he would have laughed, now he just winced.

“Cut them.” He wouldn’t need his mortal clothes again. “There is iron in the wound.”

“I know.”

He heard the slide of metal on sheath, then the tearing of his shirt and jeans and cool air on his skin. He was going to miss these clothes and what they meant. Maybe after he was King, he could visit the mortal world again. Jacqui would want to spend some time across the veil.

“Hmm.” Dylis’s fingertips prodded his back. He gritted his teeth against the pain that raced over his skin and gripped his stomach.

The mattress shifted as Dylis got up. He heard liquid—wine no doubt—and the clinking of glass.

“This is going to hurt, but I’m sure you know that already.”

“I have no doubt you will take great—” He hissed in a breath, then all he could do was focus on breathing and staying awake. Gradually, the stinging lessened, and while his back throbbed, it didn’t seem to burn.

“A couple of rust flakes were mashed into the wound.” She held the cloth out for him to see.

They were tiny. Had Sulia told her Greys to use rusted iron, or was that an accident? That would’ve been a slow, paralyzing death he wouldn’t wish on anyone—even Sulia—if it had been left untreated. Had she been hoping he’d be too injured to make it back to the gate and that he’d slowly die in that grove?

Dylis rustled around. “Think you can sit up?”

“Of course.” He did, carefully, noting the ache in his muscles. It had been a while since he’d fought. The last funeral games to honor the wasting of a member of the Court had been over a mortal year ago. He needed to get in some more practice, as he was sure he was going to need it. With a few careful movements, he shed the remains of the clothes. They’d been ruined before Dylis had cut them off him; now they weren’t even fit for rags.

“I know you won’t need them for long.” She placed fresh bandages on the bed, ready to wrap around his chest and back, then glanced at him. “But it would be wise to cover the wound. Although, if you spend as much time as you have been in the mortal world, it will take you longer to heal.”

He didn’t have any choice about how much time he spent across the veil at the moment. He had to monitor the rips in the veil, and he needed to woo Jacqui. “I know. I’ll be careful. I won’t let my shirts stick to it.”

She pressed her lips together. “Felan, if she’d killed you…”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He was aware of the stakes and had been for what felt like his whole life. He felt the weight of his every decision, and he knew how many lives hung in the balance. “Thank you for coming.”

“You have done right by me and mine. I will not see you stumble now.” She ran the wine-soaked cloth over the abrasion on his arm.

“I will not fall at the last hurdle.”

“You must act. Everyone is twitchy. Bram and I are worried the shift will come and we will be on the wrong side.”

“I’ve called a full Court meeting.” He wouldn’t be rushed into bringing Jacqui here. He wouldn’t rush her. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. His hand still smelled of death, the metallic scent of blood mixed with the sweeter scent of wine. It clung to the back of his throat in a sickening perfume.

“That’s not what I mean.” She’d lowered her voice to just above a whisper.

Because she didn’t want to risk being overheard, or because she didn’t want to have this conversation with him?

“I know what you mean.” But he couldn’t tell her the truth. “My line is secure.” The lie was so easy to say. He just wished it were true that Jacqui was his willing Queen and carried his child. He opened his eyes. Blue crusted his nails. He needed to bathe.

“No one believes that.”

He nodded. He knew that too. “Let me handle the Court. Has Taryn found Sulia?”

“She stopped looking to get me. Sulia will come back of her own volition. She won’t allow you to capture her and drag her back.”

“I’ll arrest her the moment she crosses the veil,” he snarled.

Dylis grinned. “No you won’t; you don’t want war. She’s watched you and studied you. While you tried to work out who was plotting against you, she has had time to play and plan.”

“And I have played into her hands. It was she who called me back seven years ago, I’m sure of it. I just can’t prove it.” Sulia or his mother, it didn’t matter which one when the result was the same. He’d lost Jacqui and his child—except the child had already been lost. How would that have played out differently here?

Would Jacqui have survived? Even if she had, she’d have had no soul; they wouldn’t have been able to have more children unless they’d taken other lovers across the veil. If Sulia had attacked while he and Jacqui grieved, Sulia would have won. He shuddered as he realized she’d actually damaged her own chances.

“Look forward, Felan.” She squeezed his hand. “I will send a shadow servant with fresh spring water from across the veil. You will send word when the time is close.”

“I will let you know the outcome of the meeting. I have business over the veil.” He tilted his head and gave her a pointed look, meaning he didn’t want to discuss it here. They’d been working together long enough that she got the message. He’d meet her at Caspian’s house later.

“I will await your visit.” She stood, her orange-and-black outfit looking like something that mixed fairy and mortal fashion. She spun to show off the multilayered skirt and striped stockings. “You like? It came on a doll, but I liked it so I made it bigger.”

“It’s very you.” And not very Annwyn. Not yet anyway.

Dylis left his room for a moment, and he took a breath to center himself. He’d called a Court meeting, but he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say. Maybe the time for words was over, and as Dylis had said, he needed to act, and make it sharp and decisive.

Two shadow servants carried in a bath. They dropped a piece of fairy silver in it and the water became as still as glass. When the silver didn’t discolor, they moved away. If it had discolored or the water had splashed and reared up, someone would have been trying to poison him with river water—his mother had tried that once before on Taryn and had almost succeeded in killing her—but this water had come across the veil, so unlike the river of the damned, it wasn’t made of death and disease.

He dismissed the servants. He’d rather be alone with his thoughts so he could plan his speech. Dylis waited, the ever-attentive loyal courtier.

“You can go.” She didn’t need to stay and guard him.

“Shall I send Taryn?”

He shook his head and eased off the bed. Thrown over a branch was a towel. A mortal one, thick and fluffy. He’d discovered lots of things he liked while courting Jacqui the first time. He went to take his watch off and stopped. The face was smashed. He hadn’t noticed when it had happened. His heart stuttered and a lump formed in his throat. For a moment all he did was stare at the broken trinket. While not silver or made of precious gems, the white ceramic watch held true value for him. It had been a gift from the time when Jacqui had loved him and anything had been possible.

“I’ll get it repaired.” Dylis took it off his wrist. He let her take it without an argument. “If you need anything, let me know. Don’t shoulder this alone.”