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

Chapter 46

W ith a last sweep of the brush across my cheeks, Fia steps back and smiles at her work. “There.” She smiles at me in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“Perfect, as always.”

Fia arrived just after dawn this morning to help me get ready for the day. I once read that makeup was a woman’s body armor, and I believe it in this moment. Between her cosmetics, the way she’s styled my hair, and the beautiful gown I’m about to step in to, I feel stronger—more confident.

She steps behind me and places one hand on either shoulder. “You will make a wonderful queen.”

I suck in a deep breath. “I hope so.”

“I know it. I’ve believed it since the beginning.” She leans in, giving me a sort of hug. “And I’m honored to be here, to help you in whatever little way I can.”

“You’re a huge help. More than you know.” Tears burn at the corners of my eyes as I stare at our reflection in the mirror.

In minutes, I’ll come before the dowager queen to be anointed as the next via the ceremonial passing of the spear. Hundreds of fae will be in attendance. Some humans too. According to what Fia told me earlier, Selena will be there with my aunt and uncle too. If only Mom could come, but she’s a literal world away from all of this.

“None of that.” Fia releases me and pats my shoulders. “Wouldn’t want to ruin all my work.” She winks.

Another deep breath fills my lungs. “Of course not.”

“Let’s get you dressed and on your way.”

Minutes later, I stand just outside the massive throne room as the doors are pulled wide. This is where it all started weeks ago, where I entered The Choosing and was bound to the king as a potential bride. It was always going to end this way for someone. I yearned for it to be me. Oh, how things have changed since then. What a strange and curving path I’ve walked to end up at this moment.

The room is packed to the gills, but an empty pathway runs from the doors to the dais at the far end where Elaine waits, the spear lying in her lap. Lysandir will be off to the side somewhere, waiting and watching. This moment isn’t a time for kings but queens alone.

Silence falls as those assembled wait for me.

Like a bride, I start my march down the aisle, but no one escorts me. This walk is one I make alone, my head held high, all my focus on the destination. It’s a long walk, but it passes quickly. I pull up hem of my dress and ascend the stairs before dropping to the ground in front of the queen. I kneel there, head bowed.

Elaine rises from her seat, the spear extended to its full length clutched in her hand. “Mira Rivera, Chosen of the King of Fire, I anoint you the future queen of our court. May you bring prosperity to our people.”

She touches the spear to my shoulder, like a monarch naming a knight .

On a pedestal by her chair looms a golden band spotted with rubies. She lifts it and places it upon my head. My whole body nearly vibrates with emotion as it settles on my head. The crown is dainty, light, yet the weight of it isn’t lost on me.

“Rise and take the spear,” Elaine orders.

I do. She bows her head to me and then retreats to her seat. I turn toward the deathly quiet assembly, searching for Lysandir as I do. I find him almost immediately, standing near the front and just off to the side. He beams with pride, Tharin at his side.

Breath catches in my throat as I notice those near him—Selena, my aunt and uncle just behind her. And they actually look happy—joyful. Several of the other women from The Choosing are around them. Grace, Alex, Adeline, and Cora. Zoe and Gabriella returned to Earth with promises to visit again soon. Katherine… Well, she said nothing about returning, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I never see her again. Tears threaten at the sight of so many people there for me, but Selena gives me two thumbs up, and a little laugh slips out instead. It’s lost amid the cheers that rise from those assembled. The wave of their support is the highest high, a swell of encouragement that could lift the most dejected soul.

When the cheers slow, Lysandir ascends the dais, takes my hand in his, and kisses the back of it. That sends another round of whoops and applause ringing out. With all the joy filling this room, one might never know their king had just died, that the ceremonial burning of his body and sending on of his soul is still to take place later today.

But maybe people need something to cheer for in the hard times.

Lysandir speaks to the crowd, recounting his brother’s loss, his ascension as king, and choosing of me as his queen. He pledges to defend the court and its people, to lead with honor and dignity .

“For our court to be strong and prosper, we must be united toward its security and the well-being of its people. To that end, I ask my brother’s counselors to continue their great service to us and to acknowledge their pledge to that end before the members of the court assembled here today.” He waves a hand toward his brother’s closest advisors where they stand in a line at the front of the crowd. The fae cannot lie. And they will either confirm their innocence and loyalty or condemn themselves for all to see.

This is the plan, the trap. They all assembled for my anointment, but no one save Tharin, Elaine, and I knew about this part. If anyone were to leave now, it would be an admission of guilt in itself.

Lysandir gives them words to recite, and they do, one after another. Most are eager to do so.

Captain Avara advances next and drops to one knee at the foot of the dais. “I pledge that I have never sought to harm the Court of Fire, the royal family, or any of our treasured human friends and never shall. I will serve to the best of my ability and work for the safety and prosperity of the Court of Fire.”

Eventually, only Memnon is left.

I’ve watched him squirm, gaze darting, shifting his stance, pulling at the collar of his tunic. It’s as much an admission as anything, and maybe I’m a horrible person, but I savor watching the noose slowly draw tight around his neck.

He drops to one knee before the king. “I pledge that I have always worked for what I believe to be the best for the Court of Fire and I will continue to do so.”

Lysandir crosses his arms and stares down at him. “Those are not the words I asked for. ”

“My King.” He bows lower, nearly placating himself upon the ground. “I have always advised and sought what I thought was best for the Court of Fire, and I pledge to do the same for you.”

“Still not what I asked of you. Let’s try something else.” His voice has lost some of its calm.

The trap is sprung, and the culprit on the edge of admitting their guilt.

“Can you swear that you had no involvement in the plotting or act of killing one of my brother’s potential brides?” Lysandir asks.

A collective gasp echoes through the crowd. Cries of disbelief ring out, even a sob, and I can’t help but wonder if someone from Bailey’s family is here.

I hold my breath, pulse pounding.

“I—” Memnon start. “My king, I—”

“Can you not deny it? If you can, this is your last chance.”

Guards move in from the edges of the dais. There’s no escape. Memnon could shift, I suppose, but he’d be the most wanted person in the entire court. Even the Unseelie lands would hold no sanctuary for a traitor who killed an innocent human—an act abhorred by all fae.

“Action was necessary. The Unseelie were growing in power and needed to be stopped!” Memnon’s voice rises in a fervor. “The king failed to act to stop them. He let them continue to amass, and see what happened?” He gestures wildly. “The Unseelie King was able to break down our wards and attack our court in the middle of the night. They took us unawares and killed many, including our king!”

Murmurs rise throughout the crowd. Lysandir steps to the edge of the dais and frowns down at the advisor below him.

“They attacked because we moved against them first—killed their innocent in retaliation for what we believed was their killing of the king’s favored. I was there.” He looks up at the crowd, speaking to them. “I saw the acts we committed, ones that I would have avenged just as their king sought to do. We were wrong. The Unseelie did not commit the atrocity against us. They have attacked us in the past, yes, but with purpose, not the indiscriminate violent wrath that we inflicted on them. And the cause? The spark that ignited such fury?” He points an accusing finger at Memnon. “Treason from within. The murder of a human, one who the king favored, who would have been his bride, his queen. And you knew it.”

Memnon shoves to his feet and snarls toward Lysandir. “Ruling requires action. Sacrifice! I did what was necessary!”

“You murdered an innocent and brought war to us.”

Avara pulls her sword and advances. The guards close in. But Lysandir waves them to a halt.

“You’re right about one thing,” Lysandir says. “Ruling sometimes does require action and sacrifice. Let it be seen and known that I will abide no harm against innocents in my court.”

Lysandir’s gaze hardens as he lifts an open palm toward the former advisor.

Memnon’s eyes fly wide.

“Wait!” He steps back, but it’s too late.

A pillar of fire erupts where he stands. The heat of it makes me wince, but I refuse to move, to cower. In seconds, the fire is gone, and only a small pile of ash remains where Memnon once stood.

Lysandir is almost frozen in place, hand still extended. His throat bobs. I lay my hand on his arm, and he finally relaxes, blinking at the spot where he carried out the sentence. The hardness in his expression breaks, flickering to sorrow before he shuts that down and puts on a front for his people. But I saw. I know how hard it was for him. I twine my fingers through his and move closer to his side.

Tharin steps up and starts into a speech about how members of the court can pledge their support to their new king and the ceremony to be held for Vasilius’s passing later in the day. Lysandir and I retreat further into the dais.

“I got caught up and forgot to demand his accomplices,” Lysandir whispers to me.

“It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure all of this out in time.”

He stares down at me and gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m honored to have you by my side. I don’t… I’m not sure I could do this without you.”

“Same.” I lean into him. “If you were anyone else, I would have definitely run away by now.”

Lysandir chuckles. “If you do, take me with you.”

“It’s a promise.” I beam up at him.

“We can’t run away yet, but perhaps you’d step away with me for a little while?” He arches one brow.

“Of course.”

We shift, the throne room and the crowd falling away and trees rising up in their place. Their trunks glow with inner light like flames, their colorful foliage brilliant in the morning light slanting through the boughs. The ground we stand upon bears a number of swirls and glyphs. It’s familiar, but I don’t fully place it before Lysandir snares my full attention.

“I’ve thought a lot about what I meditated on before I had the vision of you being anointed as the next queen by my mother.”

“Oh?”

He nods, solemn. “Did I ask who my brother would pick in The Choosing? Did I ask who the next queen would be? Probably both. I asked many things in many ways in search of answers. So which question was the vision an answer to? I can’t be sure anymore. I thought then that I was being shown who my brother would choose. I never imagined that, when I had a vision of you being anointed by my mother, when I caught a glimpse of what just played out in the throne room this morning, that you would be my queen.”

Lysandir pulls me close, leaning in until his forehead is pressed against mine.

“I never imagined this either,” I say. “So many times I thought all was lost. But we’re here. Together.” But others aren’t. It’s a heavy truth, a weight holding down my joy. “Do you think it’s wrong to be happy when they…” When they’re dead. When they lost everything.

“It’s not wrong. Neither of us wished for others to die, nor can we reverse time to save them. All we can do is make the best of what they sacrificed. Who is to say if this was always our fate or if we did manage to change something? But either way, even knowing all that has happened and the way it hurts, I cannot regret it. Because it brought me to you.” He holds my face gently between his palms. “My mate. My destined one. Finally mine.”

He seals it with a kiss, full of longing and promise.

After a moment, he breaks our kiss but lingers close, sharing the same breath. “I worry I’m bringing you with me into danger, into war. It’s safer for you back in your world.”

I scoff. “Don’t you dare try to send me away.”

“I won’t. Your choices are yours. But if you ever want to leave…”

I tap him with the spear I still hold clutched in my hand. “I have a responsibility here now too. This war, whatever is ahead, it’s not all on you. We’ll do it together. ”

“Together then,” he says. “Though…” He steps back and looks out over the clearing where we stand. “I thought we could step into your world together for a short time.”

The doorway. I take in the area with new understanding. This is where I entered Faery all those weeks ago. No wonder it looked familiar.

“Your uncle mentioned that he brought someone with him this morning. Someone I think you’ll want to see.”

My mouth drops open as my heart gives a leap. “My mother?”

Lysandir smiles. “You’ve met mine. I thought I should meet yours.”

“She’s not gifted,” I say.

“I know. She will not be able to see me, but I could see her, meet her in a way, if that’s acceptable to you.”

“You’d risk that? Stepping into my world?” Not that there should be anything dangerous at the coven house, but most fae won’t dare it. It’s too much of a risk getting trapped on Earth and dying from the lack of magic.

“Of course. You have risked far more for me.” He holds out his hand. “Well? We should have a few hours until we’re due back.”

I take it, my heart full of love for my fated mate, my destined king. “Let’s do it.”