Destined for the Fae King (Courts of Faery #3)

Chapter 19

F ia brushes my cheeks with some of her special shimmering powder that literally leaves me glowing. “Lovely.” She smiles at me in the mirror and sets down the brush. “I think you’re ready for luncheon with the royal family.”

If she notices the fragility in my forced grin, she doesn’t comment on it. I am not ready. Can anyone be ready to go to lunch with two men they kissed the day before? Especially when the one you can’t stop thinking about isn’t the one you’re supposed to be wanting and kissing? Oh, and their mother will be there. Let’s not forget that awkward tidbit.

“If I’m not, it won’t be because of your artistry.” I turn my face this way and that. My insides might be a twisted-up mess, but I can still appreciate the wonders Fia works. “You do such an incredible job every time. Seriously.”

“It is my job.” She winks. “Besides, nothing is too good for the potential future Queen of Fire.”

The false smile falls right off my face. Right. That. I can’t bear to tell her that I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be the queen. Even if Vasilius picked me, could I tell him yes? I shake my head and push the thought away .

“On that note, have you heard anything?” I ask instead. “Any rumors about who the king might be favoring?”

Fia plops onto the tufted stool near my chair. “Well,” she starts, leaning in conspiratorially, “the king has had more dates with Bailey than anyone else.” Her voice falls to a whisper, not that there is anyone else in the room to hear us. “It’s said she’s quite taken with him too.”

That, I know for sure. She’s been moon-eyed and sighing for days.

“Although,” Fia says, voice rising again, “some of the other attendants think it’s just a passing fancy, but that might be wishful thinking, hoping that their contender will win the crown. I’ve heard good things about you too though. You’re definitely in the top five.” She giggles.

“That’s good to hear,” I say, only because I know it’s what she expects to hear. I should be pleased, but the emotion doesn’t come. If anything, the news makes everything I’m feeling worse.

“Perhaps today will improve your standing even more,” she continues. “It’s said the king plans to spend more alone time with at least two of you before the ball. And then there’s the ball itself! It’ll be such a good opportunity to be seen with the king. All of the advisors will be there, nobles from other courts, even several royals, if the rumors turn out to be true. They’ll all get to see you with the king and see how good of a match you would make. That’ll be important, you know. If the advisors think the other courts favor you, it will influence who they advise the king to choose.”

Many of the women are excited about the ball, but the looming event fills me with dread. Mingling with many fae and humans I don’t know? Not my favorite. Knowing that our families have been invited and I’ll likely have to confront my uncle again after realizing how much I no longer want to win the crown? Dreadful. The only bright spot will be if Selena comes, but even then, I know I’ll be a center of endless attention, even more so than the opening ball where at least I was somewhat unknown for much of the time until the presentation. This time, everyone will know exactly who I am and who I may become.

“Don’t be nervous.” Fia pats my leg. “I’ll make sure you’re the most stunning candidate there. You’ll be renowned throughout the Seelie courts.”

A little humorless laugh slips between my lips.

“And your family should be there too,” she says. “Won’t that be nice?”

I’m sure my uncle will be. He won’t miss the chance to make sure I’m behaving myself and doing my damnedest to win the crown. All of the human families are invited. It should be safe enough. After all, why would the Unseelie dare to attack an event with so many powerful Seelie fae present? That’s assuming they could even get this far into the territory at all, which everyone seems to think is unlikely. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to understand why King Vasilius and the rest of the Court of Fire would want so many humans present when their rivals come to visit.

Humans are power. Our spirits fuel fae magic, and so the more of us around, the more of a show of strength it is. To say nothing of the king showing off all the human women vying to become his bride. His has his pick—a far cry from some of the other courts, where humans are rare. Why on earth members of our coven don’t defect and try to appeal to those fae is beyond me. Loyalty, I guess. Tradition? Still, if Uncle Matias really wanted to raise our family’s status and wealth, you’d think he’d strike up an alliance with say, the Court of the Forest, where humans are a rarity. Surely, they’d shower a human family with wealth if a member or two decided to live with them. He could have pawned me off there—packed me up the moment I came of age and sent me away. I’d have gone, probably, despite my mother’s outcry.

My chest squeezes tight at the thought of her. I miss her. I really do. My brothers too. Since none of them have the gift, they can’t come to visit me, and I’m bound to the king, unable to leave, until this competition is done. Mom’s letters have just seemed sad. Supportive in her way, but the undercurrent of loss and longing is still there.

I should write to her, send something back with my uncle, though what to say is always a struggle. I’m doing great, Mom! Don’t worry. It’d be true, but it doesn’t feel like enough and is a far cry from the promise that I’ll be back soon, which I know she wants but I can’t give. This is my life, and I’m finally living it. Even if I don’t win the crown, I don’t see being in a rush to move back home. A visit? Sure.

But after kissing Lysandir… I’d really like to see where that could go.

“I suppose—” I begin but am saved from further response by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I call.

The door creaks open and Tharin fills the entry. A small, thin box is held in his hands.

“A gift for Lady Mira,” he says, but for some reason he doesn’t look happy about that.

Fia gasps and leaps to her feet. “From the king?”

Tharin fully enters the room, closing the door behind him. “No,” he says as he crosses the room to us. “This comes from Prince Lysandir. ”

If it wasn’t for the makeup Fia had just applied, I’d probably have turned as red as my dress. If anyone has any suspicions about something between us, this is not going to help.

“The prince?” Fia looks as wide-eyed as I feel.

Tharin comes to a stop in front of me and holds out the box. “Lady Mira?”

“Thank you.” I take the shimmering gold box and set it in my lap. It snares my full attention. A curiosity and damnation at once. If the box had just appeared in my room, I’d be giddy. That fluttering joy is in there somewhere, but my nerves swallow it up.

“Why would the prince send a gift?” Fia asks, clearly skeptical. God help me, I don’t have a good answer for her.

God doesn’t answer, but Tharin thankfully does. “He must favor or admire her,” he replies. “And don’t you think that’s a good thing, Fia? Whoever will be our future queen should be well-liked by the rest of the royal family, wouldn’t you agree?”

Despite the words out of his mouth, it doesn’t feel like he agrees with them. Does he not like Lysandir? But the other night in the library, I’d have sworn they seemed familiar with one another, more than just casual acquaintances.

“Oh! Well, of course!” Fia twists my direction. “Then this is a great turn of events!”

She nearly vibrates with enthusiasm, but it’s to Tharin I glance. His lips twitch up in one corner. He knows, damn it. Somehow, he knows and yet still managed to lead Fia to a different conclusion with a few clever suggestions that I have no doubt he thought up before coming in here.

“Well, Lady Mira. Why don’t you open it?” He doesn’t seem the type that wants me to be uncomfortable or thrust into an awkward situation, but he’s certainly making a show of this gift.

“Might as well,” I reply .

The box isn’t tied up with ribbons or sealed any way that I can tell, so I grab the lid and slowly tug it off. Fia stretches on her tiptoes and leans in for a better view—not that she can’t see perfectly from where she’s standing just two feet away.

Inside are three long, skinny tubes of varying colors fitted down into a silken pillow of sorts. Each one narrows to a metallic point at one end.

My breath catches.

Not tubes. Pens. He got me pens.

I pluck the center one from its cushioned holder and hold it up to the light. A shimmering substance, this one in varying shades of green and gold, fills the glass chamber.

“What are those?” Fia asks.

But I ignore her and swirl around in my chair toward the desk, careful not to spill the box and its precious contents. I gently set it on the desktop and grab a piece of paper. My heart races as I touch the tip to the page and write the first thing that comes to mind: Lysandir.

Tharin chuckles behind me. “Pens. Though it seems Lady Mira figured that out quickly.”

Lysandir’s name shimmers in tones of sparkling gold and green that blend effortlessly as the pen shifts from one color to the next at random.

He didn’t just get me pens.

He got me special fae, metallic pens, like the ones he’d mentioned in the library.

Emotion burns at the corners of my eyes. I pull my lip between my teeth, holding it in. It’s so simple and so thoughtful at the same time. Between his reaction to the kiss and this gift, one might think he was trying to win me away from his brother. But that can’t be right. Fae just like to give gifts. Everyone says that .

Still, it fills me with a deep warmth that I know will linger just as long or longer than the feel of his lips on mine.

“Should I tell the prince you appreciate the gift?” Tharin asks.

I stare at Lysandir’s name on the page, suddenly embarrassed at my choice of words for testing the pens. I add a comma after his name, a short and swirling “thank you,” and then sign my name, like I’d meant to write it as a letter all along. I quickly fold it up and hand it to Tharin. “Yes, please pass along my thanks for the thoughtful gift.”

With care, I set the pen back in its box so that I don’t clutch it to my chest like the treasure it is and give myself away further.

“Do you have any other letters you would like sent?” he asks.

Guilt swells again at the thought of my mother and brothers. Selena too.

“None today,” I reply.

Maybe I’ll write tonight. Not maybe—I will . I need to. I have to send something home with my uncle for my mother. I could use my new pens. I glance at them on the table, my spirits lifting.

Yes, I think I’ll do just that.

Tharin nods. “I will pass this along to Prince Lysandir.”

I really need to figure out what he knows and how. And why his moods on the matter are all over the place.

“I’m sure she can do that in at luncheon in just a few minutes,” Fia remarks.

I barely hold back a sigh. If rumors are spreading, things could get really awkward really quickly, and I might be just about to walk into an epic disaster.