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

Chapter 24

D espite the exhaustion weighing on me, the emotional toll of the evening keeps me awake far longer than I’d like. Thankfully though, I don’t miss anything sleeping most of the morning away since it’s the day of the ball.

I run into Grace and Alex at a casual lunch in the parlor. Grace is quick to point out how I ghosted them last night, but surprisingly, Alex steps in to my defense.

“Can you blame her?” She bumps her shoulder into Grace’s. “It was awful. Don’t feel bad, Mira. We left right after.” She pops another piece of fruit into her mouth with a shrug. Discussion closed.

It’s not long after that when Fia shows up at my room to help me get ready for the ball. Ridiculously early in my opinion since it doesn’t start for hours, but Fia will hear none of it and is determined to take her time making me shine. Quite literally in fact.

The woman in the mirror is jaw-dropping. I almost can’t believe it’s me. Fia’s cosmetics highlight all my best features, managing to even add sparkle to my eyes, or maybe that’s just the awe and wonder shining through. My long, dark hair is curled in perfect waves and pinned back just so, letting it flow around my face and shoulders but be tamed and constrained all at once. Tiny crystals woven into my hair on near invisible strands catch the light and make me shimmer and shine. The quarter-sized garnet on a thin chain around my neck doesn’t hurt either. But it’s the gown that’s the real showstopper.

“I knew this would be perfect for you,” Fia says in triumph as looks at my reflect in the mirror. She was right, so right. The idea of something so unique gave me pause. But she pushed me toward it, and I’m so glad.

The crimson fabric darkens to near black where the bodice stops just above my breasts, a small slit giving an extra peak at my cleavage which the almost corset-like top has pushed to new heights. The skirt of the gown is so mesmerizing I can’t stop twisting this way and that just to watch it move. Tones of gold and orange rise like flames from the bottom hem as well as the layer beneath the sheer top fabric. Little crystals, like the ones in my hair, catch the light, giving the whole thing the impression of being a dancing flame every time I move. Short, gold heels complete the look, peeking out here and there when I move.

I’m a living tribute to the Court of Fire. No one present will doubt where I belong.

The sun is just dropping below the trees when we are all shifted by the guards to an area just outside the palace.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Bailey says with a wobbly smile as soon as we arrive. She’s resplendent tonight in a blood red gown accented with shimmering gold and jewelry to match.

Of everyone, she seems to be the most genuinely in love with the king. Oh, Cora and Katherine are good at acting like it. Even now, Katherine gives a dramatic sigh and laments about when we get to see Vasilius, but it’s too much—too forced. Hopefully the king sees that, though maybe it would do him some good to marry a pretender after what I learned last night.

Still though, I hope he notices Bailey tonight. More than that, I hope he picks her in the end. He may just be doing his duty, but I can’t believe everything I’ve seen between them is false. There’s a hint of something, a seed that could grow if given time, and Bailey has the patience and demeanor to water it and watch it bloom.

The ball is to be held in a large, open space bordered on one side by the palace, another by the glowing trunks and lofting branches of the trees that glow with inner fire and a long arcing curve of what a guard informs us is the glass menagerie. In a way, it’s a tribute and symbol of the Court of Fire all on its own, with towering works of art made of glass, interspersed with a variety of flora and fauna spotted around meandering pathways and gurgling fountains. A large glass butterfly in a rainbow of colors spreads its wings out wide as three cars at the nearest edge. It beckons, begging me to wander and take in the stunning sights I can catch mere glimpses of, but that’s not why we’re here.

The massive open space before us has been decorated grander than any celebrity wedding. Fae lights of varying colors drift around in the dimming sky like string lights cut loose and given lift to float on their own. Long tables already filled with food and drinks are set up near the sides, and smaller ones covered in shimmering fabric are dotted around, presumably for people to eat and mingle. Various fae rush about, adding things to tables, adjusting decorations, and such. Others, based on their breathtaking attire and casual stance sipping drinks or chatting idly, are clearly guests who have arrived early.

Savory scents waft our way, causing Gabriella’s stomach to rumble. She gives a little embarrassed squeak. A few women giggle .

Zoe claps a hand on her shoulder. “I was too nervous to eat much either,” she admits. “Hopefully we get to eat soon?” She inclines her head toward a nearby guard and gives her a pointed look.

“Of course,” the guard replies. “Should I have a few plates brought over?”

“And risk a stain on my gown?” Katherine remarks, like we’ve suggested something ridiculous.

I shrug. “A snack would be nice.”

A few others murmur in agreement.

“Well fine,” Katherine snips and tosses her hair. “You can all stuff your faces and smell like food. I’m going to find the king.”

“He’ll be joining you all shortly.” Tharin’s booming voice just behind me causes me to jump. He steps around toward the front of our group. His uniform is more elaborate than usual, with golden stripes marking the crimson fabric of his shoulders and an extra halo of light shining off the flame emblem in the center of his chest.

I squint at a few of the others then back at him. Everyone guarding us holds an elite ranking, but compared to the others, he has a few more marks on display. It reminds me of someone else, though I can’t place it at the moment.

“In fact, let’s go ahead and move over there.” He points to the far side of the space, where a short dais has been erected bearing three thrones, the one in the center much larger and more ornate than the other two. A wide pathway of fitted marble stones bisects the area from where we stand to the far side. In the center, it bulges out into a wide circle—a dance floor I suspect, given the fae musicians tuning their instruments not far from one side.

“You didn’t tell me you were in charge,” I remark to Tharin as we cross the space .

He smirks. “You never asked.”

I barely stop my eye roll, instead voicing the suspicion that has taken root. “What did I do to get assigned someone of your status to watch over me?”

“Who says I was?”

“I do.” I refuse to believe it’s random.

“Perceptive,” he remarks.

Our little group reforms near the edge of the forest. Pillars of cold flame create a border of sorts. Guards linger beyond, as they had near the palace. If I had to guess, I’d say they ring in the entire space, keeping watch to make sure the evening goes off without a hitch. A few stand closer to us, and my attention snags on one in particular, the head of the king’s personal guard. He was one of the others with the king in the garden last night, but that’s not all that makes me draw a short, sharp breath. His uniform insignias bare a startling resemblance to Tharin’s.

I turn back toward Tharin assessing him in a new light. Pieces click into place. “You’re the prince’s personal guard.”

It makes so much sense. Too much. I should have seen it earlier, with the way he and Lysandir were so familiar with one another, though why he dressed like a regular guard before tonight’s ceremony, I can’t explain. I can’t remember if he dressed this way during the opening ball. There was too much else on my mind that evening to pay attention.

Tharin winks at me. “As I said, very perceptive.”

But why is the prince’s personal guard watching after me? I could see it at first, since he was unsettled by my being here. But surely that’s changed?

A whisper of magic tingles across my skin.

Tharin’s attention shifts to open space toward our left. “They come. ”

No sooner have the words left his mouth than Vasilius, Lysandir, and Elaine appear along with a cluster of guards and advisors.

My focus goes unerringly to the prince. He looks so much like he did the first night I saw him that it’s almost unsettling. I prefer the more casual prince that I’ve gotten to know rather than this stiff, formal version. Not that he looks worse. The opposite. He’s absolutely devastating, a glow of power leeching from his skin and giving him an otherworldly air.

Lysandir’s gaze snags on mine, and my heart flip-flops in my chest. The smallest hint of a smile touches his lips before he turns to respond to his mother.

Commotion picks up as several of the women close in on the king. His eyes widen briefly, and I have to stifle a laugh. It’s funny how a little knowledge can shift my perspective so thoroughly. Knowing what I do, I can pick up the little hints of panic and revulsion he’s done such a good job of hiding.

A kinder person might feel bad for him, putting duty above his own preferences, but I can’t summon the feeling at that moment, the revelation too fresh.

“Ladies.” The king spreads his arms wide. “I’m glad you’re all here this evening.”

I frown. Just because we make you look good? I shove the mocking thought away and plaster a smile on my face. I told Lysandir I wouldn’t disrupt the ball, and I won’t.

The prince tends to his mother, helping her over to one of the smaller thrones beside the king’s. The sight warms my heart and transforms my smile into something genuine. If only my mother could be here tonight. I’d love her to see me like this, to know that I’m holding my own and putting all those years of pageants to some use. I may not win the crown, but at least I haven’t embarrassed the family. And maybe, if my gut is telling me true, I might be able to let her know I have a connection with the prince. Just thinking about it makes my chest squeeze tight. It’s new, fragile. Uncertain at best. I’m almost afraid to even think about it for fear of making it untrue or finding out he was just doing some duty like the king. Or that whoever stole his heart long ago has it irrevocably.

“I will need you all here with me when the other fae royals make their entrance, but before then, I do have a little surprise for you all.” Vasilius gestures behind us toward the area where we came in. A number of other fae have filled into the space, most sipping drinks and chatting with one another. My brows scrunch as I try to deduce the surprise.

After a moment, Adeline squeaks and bolts toward a small group of figures making their way toward us.

Human figures.

Her family.

Zoe and Katherine take off next. Gabriella is not far behind, racing with far more speed than I would ever expect toward an older woman who to whom she bears a striking resemblance.

I bounce on my toes, shifting as I search for familiar faces. My uncle will be here. I have no doubt of that. I only hope he isn’t alone. Even Aunt Dalia, flighty as she can be, would be a welcome balm to the barrage of questions he’ll have for me, not to mention terse reminders about why I’m there and my duty to the family.

Duty. I sigh.

It’s become a master of us all.

Then, I see her. Selena wears all black, of course, but the bright red lipstick and subtle blonde highlights in her hair are new. The sight of her breaks the bonds holding me still, and suddenly I’m one of the women rushing down the pathway toward her approaching figure .

We’ve gone longer without seeing or speaking to one another, but seeing a familiar face, one I love, brings all the emotion of the past weeks to a sharp point that stings at the corners of my eyes. I’ve never felt quite so light as she calls my name before pulling me into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you.” Her grip tightens to bone-crushing before loosening.

“You too,” I reply.

“And us, I hope?” My aunt gives a too-bright smile.

And it is. It genuinely is. Even my uncle with his immaculate air and superior demeanor is strangely comforting. In a world where most everything is strange and new, they’re not. They’re home, and I didn’t realize until this moment just how much I’ve missed it.

“Yes, you all too.” I hug them each before pulling away to poke at my hair and make sure it’s stayed in place. My aunt stands a little straighter, as if she’s surprised by my actions.

“We hope all has been well.” Uncle Mathias inclines his head, making it a question as much as a statement.

I swallow a sigh. It wouldn’t be him if he didn’t get straight to the point. “Of course. We’ve been treated exceptionally well, as I stated in my letters,” I remind him. “And I’ve been honored to spend a good bit of time with the royal family.”

“Hmm,” he muses, a sharp contrast to Aunt Dalia’s exuberant remark at my response or Selena’s eye roll. She’s no stranger to my uncle’s layered conversations.

“Your mom and brothers are doing well, by the way,” Selena says.

If I thought I was light and floating a moment ago, I’m really drifting away now .

“That’s the best news,” I reply. It really, really is. I’d almost been afraid to ask.

“They miss you of course, but they’re proud too, I think.” She shrugs one shoulder and offers a genuine smile.

We don’t have much time to catch up before guards are ushering us back to the king and moving the thick crowds that have formed back to make a pathway between the entrance and the dais. The sky is painted in shades of dark pink fading into dark blue, leaving the floating fae lights to illuminate the encroaching night. The way they reflect off the creatures I can spy in the glass menagerie almost make them look like they’ve come alive. I try to shift my body so that I’m not looking at them as I come to stand with the other women in two arcs on either side of the pathway in front of the dais.

The music changes. Spectators quiet down and turn toward the entrance. At my side, Selena covers her mouth to stifle a giggle, and I grin, wondering if she’s thinking the same thing as me, that this is entirely too much like a human wedding.

Vasilius, Lysandir, and Elaine all rise in anticipation of receiving their guests.

The procession begins, and it only takes a glimpse to know which court is presenting themselves first. The King of the Forest, Rivenean, looks like a druid knight from one of my brothers’ video games come to life. Golden leaves adorn his shoulders like scales, dripping down over the deep green of his attire. Tall, brown leather boots hug up his calves, and even his hair is adorned with a twisting crown of golden branches spotted with emeralds. But it’s not him that I give my focus to. I’m much more curious about the women at his side, his consort and soon-to-be-bride, as we understand it .

Lia Ashmore. A human, just like us. It’s still baffling to me that she didn’t know until recently that she was gifted and now is the future Queen of the Court of the Forest. To say Uncle Matias was a little frustrated by that turn of events is putting it mildly. Not that he would have endorsed anyone from our coven going to the Court of the Forest, much less trying to win the heart of their king. That would have been disloyal to the Court of Fire in his eyes—and that of the elders—and we couldn’t have that. Maybe it’s the idea that there are more gifted humans out there just waiting to be found, that we’re not as special as he’d like to believe. Either way, it’s impossible not to feel some kind of kinship with this young woman I’ve never met.

In many ways, her outfit is a mirror of the king’s. Her gown of dark emerald almost looks like a living carpet of soft moss dotted with small flowers that glimmer in the light. A short, decorative cloak is draped around her shoulders, baring the same golden scale-like leaves as the king’s and bound with a clasp resembling branches. More golden leaves dot her wavy, brown hair, and a small crown of gold and emerald graces her brow.

They stop at the foot of the dais, not far from us, and give a little bow to the royals. A train of forest fae—based on the colors of their attire—halt in their wake and bow more deeply.

“Welcome, Rivenean, King of the Forest, and your ensemble.” Vasilius’s voice booms over the assembly. “Thank you for joining us at this celebration.”

“We are honored to be here after many years apart,” Rivenean replies. “I hope that this will be a new start for our courts.”

“Indeed,” Vasilius inclines his head. “I look forward to speaking with you more soon.” Confirmation and dismissal. The Court of the Forest has been mostly isolated until recently. Something about age-old feuds and lack of trust between Seelie courts. It’s nice that Vasilius invited them, that maybe old bridges are starting to mend.

Next comes the Court of Water. Of all the courts invited, this was the one most expected to accept the invitation, and the king’s advisors were not wrong. Opposing elements, they may be, but relations with the Court of Water have been pleasant and steady for a long time, or so my research showed. Balanced, one might say. The Queen Mayania leads the procession with her daughter and heir. The sight of them literally takes my breath away. Maybe it’s their long navy hair or their similar gowns that appear to be woven of iridescent scales that shimmer in a rainbow of colors. But it could also be the way that water droplets appear to hang suspended in the air around the queen. Any way around it, they’re truly a sight I won’t forget.

The last court to be presented is the Court of Air. I’d be lying if I said this isn’t the one I’m most curious about. After all, this is the court Lysandir visited to try and earn his wish, one I still don’t know the details of. And he lost, to the human woman who now walks at the side of the king. Wren.

I hazard a glance over my shoulder at Lysandir. His gaze is fixed squarely on Wren. The wide smile he grants her as she approaches causes my stomach to clench. My body doesn’t seem to care that he’s not mine or that she’s definitely with the King of Air. Reason has nothing on jealousy. Could she be the woman he gave his heart to? Though he made it sound like it was a long time ago, and the competition where he met her wasn’t long ago at all.

It probably doesn’t help that she’s wearing a navy dress with a slit at the front that plunges far lower than mine or that the light, gauzy material of the skirts of her dress hint at the shape of her long legs beneath. And that’s to say nothing of her shining golden hair and the broad grin she gives Lysandir in return that lights up her whole face.

Compared to the other kings, Sigurd, King of Air is more restrained in his attire, all well-fitting dark grays, navy, and hints of silver in a long coat that ends past his hips and breeches tucked into boots. Honestly, his outfit isn’t too far a cry from my uncle’s. His crown is simpler too, just a silver band, but it’s the confidence he wears like a second skin that gives away his title. He doesn’t need an elaborate outfit to impress, and the hint of a smirk on his lips says he knows it too.

After the introduction of the visiting royals and their courts, each of us are introduced and curtsy before King Vasilius and then once more before the crowd of fae. If having us all lined up in front of the dais wasn’t obvious enough, Vasilius has made it clear to everyone present that his court doesn’t lack for humans—or bride candidates.

It’s a bit of a slap in the face to some of the other courts, the Court of the Forest especially, given I’ve heard they had a startling lack of humans before the king found Lia and she discovered a stone that can open doorways to the human realm—something else the Court of Fire doesn’t seem to lack. But at least they’re here and the courts are talking, so maybe some good will come of it.

Presentation complete, the celebration moves into full swing. Harmonious music played by the fae band fills the air, weaving past the immediate flood of conversation to tickle my ears and ensnare my body. It’s impossible not to feel its melody resonate in my chest as it beckons me to move to its beat.

I’m caught there in its thrall when Vasilius unexpectedly steps before me.

“Would you care to join me in a dance?” he asks .

Me? Dance? I blink at him as the words sink in. My smile is genuine as I drop into a curtsy and reply, “Of course.”

Check this out, Uncle.

If he had any doubts about how I’ve represented our family, this should smash them to pieces.