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

Chapter 34

T he fae don’t bury their dead—they burn them. At least, that’s the case for the Court of Fire.

But we don’t have Bailey’s body to burn. It was returned to Earth, to her family, along with letters to all of ours, confirming our safety and the king’s commitment to keeping us all safe and healthy. I sent one to be delivered to my mom, as well as another to my cousin. I truly don’t remember much of what I wrote in either. They were short but full of love. What else is there to say? They’ll worry no matter what. I suppose I could tell them the future. That I’m destined to wed the king, so I won’t die, at least not anytime soon. But what comes after that? Promising my safety would feel hollow no matter what.

Without a body to burn, the queen orders a ceremonial fire instead. It’s purely symbolic, but the small bonfire the guards craft in a wide brazier in the courtyard amid all our rooms might as well be a funeral, for the somberness that blankets us all.

No one speaks much as the last of sunset fades away, leaving Bailey’s ceremonial fire as our source of light. But in the silence, in the sorrow, we find solidarity .

The competition doesn’t matter right now. How can it? We’re just a bunch of women, acquaintances, tentative friends, more in some cases, but the differences that kept us apart, the goal that divided us, no longer seem as wide and impossible to cross. I even find myself standing next to Cora and feeling a weird urge to put my arm around her or give her a hug. I don’t, but any anger I’ve felt toward her is gone. Katherine too.

For now, we’re all allies.

Queen Elaine keeps us close to her the next day and the next. Lysandir’s ring stays warm against my chest, a little spark of hope that I find myself reaching for and physically clinging to more than I should. It could be problematic if someone notices and asks about it, though I can always lie. Humanity has some advantages.

Our movements are limited, our comings and goings mostly restricted to our rooms and the central courtyard. For lack of anything better to do, or maybe out of the need for some semblance of stability, Zoe declared that she would lead yoga this morning. We haven’t done it since before Bailey died. She never participated but watched a lot, and I almost feel like she’s watching this morning.

Maybe everyone else feels it too because every single woman shows up. Even Elaine sits on a bench and watches. She occupies one of the rooms. Another belongs to the king, though I don’t think he’s used it. According to Tharin, neither Vasilius nor Lysandir have returned. And what they’ve been up to… The dark look that crossed his face was all I needed to know. In some ways, I’m glad he wouldn’t tell me.

When we finally rise from the final child’s pose, more than one woman has wet streaks on her cheeks, including me.

Elaine waves forward a few fae carrying trays of drinks and little snacks. I almost smile at that. She’s really taken to us like a mother lately, seeing that we’re eating, watching over us, trying to provide little comforts where she can. When no one else takes up the seat on the bench next to her, I do.

“Thank you for being here with us,” I say.

Her features soften a bit as she takes me in. “Of course. I do what I can.”

“If you’d be more comfortable in the capital though, we’d all understand,” I say. She seems a little out of sorts here, and more than once I’ve seen her struggle to navigate the cobbled paths—not that she lets anyone help her, ridiculous as that is.

She pats my leg. “That’s kind, dear, but I must stay.”

There’s something in her words I can’t help but pick at. “Must?”

Adeline takes a seat on a bench nearby with Gabriella—the two have become closer friends of late.

“Mm hmm.” She pulls her cane into her laps and gives it a little tap. “I suppose I should tell you all about my cane.”

“Your cane?” Zoe asks. She takes a seat crisscross-applesauce on the stonework near us, almost like a kid waiting for story time.

“Yes. Come. Sit. All of you.” Elaine beckons the rest near, and they come. Cora even sits on the ground and doesn’t act like such a thing is beneath her.

“I take it none of you have worked out exactly what it is yet,” she says, holding it up and turning it slightly in her weathered hands.

A beautiful work of art, the cane has many delicate engravings down its length and widens out for about the top foot before ending in a smooth circle that shimmers and catches the light almost like polished glass but is probably some sort of massive gem.

“It’s expensive?” Katherine offers.

“Um…” Adeline muses.

Nothing smart comes to mind, so I keep my mouth shut.

“It denotes your position as queen,” Cora says confidently.

“That it does,” Elaine replies, focusing on her. “But what else? Why does it do that?”

Cora shifts in her seat, her lips pursing. “The shaft is similar to the Spear of Shielding. I assume it’s meant to represent that, since it’s the Queen of Fire who is tasked with guarding it.”

Is it? I sit a little straighter and shift forward in the seat for a better look. I’ve studied the spear, all of the sacred fae relics, but I always focused more on what they did and why they were important, not so much what they looked like.

“Very close, dear.” Elaine runs her hand down the length of the shaft. “Very close. But it’s not I who guard the spear so much as I am meant to use it to guard us all in times in of danger, as the next queen—one of you—will be tasked to do as well.”

The answer she’s leading us toward rears up before me, and I don’t stop to think before blurting, “Your cane is the spear.”

Pride radiates from her as she turns toward me. “Very good.”

“But how?” Adeline asks, echoing the question in my head. “It doesn’t look like it.”

All the women have moved closer, some rising from their seats, others leaning in.

The Spear of Shielding. A sacred and powerful fae relic. Right there. A foot away from me. I hold tighter to the edge of the bench to steady myself as the realization tries to knock me off kilter. I’ve been near it so many times and had no idea.

“The shaft can extend.” The dowager traces her fingers over some of the engravings. “A push here. A twist there. And the spear point itself, the real power of the thing, remains, carefully hidden.” She taps the top of the cane before running her hand along the wider part of the shaft. “As I aged, we had it adjusted so that it could remain with me should I have need of it, but this”—she taps the top—“can be easily shattered, should the time call for it.”

“It’s smaller than I expected,” I admit, still wondering at design of it and the enchanted point of metal that lingers just underneath a carefully crafted cover of sorts.

“Small things can make the biggest impacts,” Elaine replies. “Don’t let its size or appearance make you doubt its strength.”

The gleam in her eye makes me wonder if she’s speaking more about herself than the object in her hand.

“You can still use it?” Adeline has shifted so far to the edge of her seat I’m surprised she hasn’t fallen off. But her question is a solid one. Everything I’ve read says the spear is most effective when wielded by a human bearing a fae mark, or mating bond.

“My mate, my husband, may be long dead, but the shadow of his mark remains upon me still.” The queen touches her abdomen, the likely spot where the remnants of his mark still linger on her skin. For it to have lasted so long after death, they must really have loved one another. “I can still wield the spear and use its power to shield us, but the effect is not nearly as strong or wide as it was in my youth when my mate still lived. But you see, that is why I must remain close to you all in this dangerous time. Should the worst happen and the Unseelie reach us here, I can protect you until help comes for us.”

The admission strips some of the heat from my skin. She must think it a possible outcome, given how staunch she’s been in staying near us. That realization seems to settle in on some of the others too. Grace hugs her arms around herself. Adeline slides back in her seat, Gabriella moving closer to her, her eyes downcast.

“That is why you wish the king to marry,” Gabriella says into the quiet that has formed. “So another can use the spear. ”

“One reason. But I also hoped it might center him. Calm his wilder impulses.” Elaine shakes her head, gaze downcast.

“A strong woman can do that,” Gabriella says.

“She can,” the queen agrees. “And he needs it.”

It’s too bad he doesn’t seem to want that. Or didn’t… It’s hard to say, given how he’s reacted to Bailey’s death.

“You could choose for him,” Cora says. She holds her head a little higher, and there’s no question she’s hoping the dowager will select her. Just when I thought we’d truly put the competition on hold.

Thankfully, Elaine is a smart woman. “Not now. Not with…” She waves her hand, not wanting to speak what we all know. “He will return, and we will find a way to move forward.”

“So, what should we do until then?” Katherine asks.

The absolute most painful thing that can be asked of anyone. “We wait.”