Queen of Blood and Vengeance (Secrets of the Faerie Crown #4)

91. Veyka

91

VEYKA

Cyara insisted on resuming her position as handmaiden in addition to Knight of the Round Table. Ridiculous. The female never got enough sleep. Her wings were always the first giveaway. They twitched more when she was tired, and on that day in particular they’d been in near constant motion.

“I can do this myself,” I insisted. “Tonight, I demand you go straight to your own bed. Arran can see to helping me untangle this confection.”

Cyara lifted a copper brow in obvious doubt. “You must actually untangle it and also brush it, Veyka.”

I frowned at the complex braid she’d fashioned. It still only hung to my breasts. I’d never grow it as long as my waist again. But with the number of pearls and diamonds and amethyst strands she’d braided into it, Arran would have a busy night.

Perhaps I’d grant him a kiss for each strand of jewels he managed to untangle. I shivered at the delicious prospect.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Cyara commented as she added the final piece of my ensemble—the crown.

A new crown, forged from the melted down gold of the old, studded with a thousand gems of amorite given by the survivors —elemental, terrestrial, human, faerie, Aquarian. I tilted my chin from side to side in the mirror, admiring the way the amorite caught the light and gleamed bright with rainbows against the pure white of my hair.

“Yours will be soon enough,” I shot back, unraveling to stand and shaking out the folds of the gown I’d chosen.

Cyara looked away, walking to the corner of the room and fidgeting unnecessarily with the tea set to avoid my gaze. She wouldn’t be able to hide once she was in the same room with Osheen. Those two could not keep their glowing eyes to themselves. Though, as far as I could tell, they hadn’t actually acted on those desires. Fools.

The door to the antechamber opened and my mate stepped in. Clothed in deep green shot with gold, he looked every inch the High King he was. I had not been able to convince him to wear a matching crown. Though I’d certainly keep trying. I had at least a thousand years to win that argument.

His eyes locked on mine. “Cancel the whole thing.”

I bit my lip. “That good?”

I twirled slowly, because I knew precisely how good I looked in the gown. The silver collar at my neck held in place miles of frothy purple fabric that faded to pink and then pale orange when it reached the floor. My shoulders were bare to just above my elbow, where engraved cuffs held the draping sleeves in place. But the real wonder was the back—or the lack of it. Every inch of skin, from my shoulders down to less than an inch above the curve of my bottom, was exposed to view.

“I said, cancel it ,” Arran growled, stepping into my space. He caught my chin and tipped it up, holding me in place.

“Did you hear that, Cyara?”

“Heard and choosing to ignore it, Your Majesties,” she said, sweeping past and pulling the double doors fully open. “It is time to go.”

Arran growled again, but this time it was just for me.

I promise you can take it off of me later , I soothed the beast.

Another growl.

I laughed and took his arm, leading him out through the antechamber and the labyrinth of corridors and courtyards. The entire palace gleamed, the goldstone brighter than ever, the gems embedded in the pillars and arches polished. But nowhere shone more brightly than the throne room where we’d been mated.

Elementals and terrestrials alike lined the walls, vying to see over one another’s heads. Elayne and Pant stood with them, the pride in their smiles enough to have me gripping Arran harder so my knees did not give out.

A contingent of blue-skinned Aquarians lingered near the fountains, apparently fascinated that they flowed with aural rather than water. I recognized Taliya hovering in the air near the entrance, always ready to make a quick getaway, still not quite trusting of the fae. Nor the humans, for their part, where they stood in the corner of the throne room nearest the empty thrones.

For once, those thrones were not the focal point. I’d wanted to smash them up, but Arran urged me to take things a bit at a time. For a race that lived hundreds of years, change would be slow. But I planned to sit at my table from now on.

Arran led me to my seat, the golden scrollwork proclaiming it as mine. He stood beside me, though neither of us sat. Not yet.

One by one, they appeared. The crowd held their places against the walls, leaving the way clear for the Knights of the Round Table.

Lyrena and Guinevere entered together, attired in all their Goldstone finery. Then Cyara, in her simple white gown, with her neatly braided copper hair and unshakeable calm. Osheen hadn’t even dressed for the occasion, wearing his simple woolen tunic buttoned in the terrestrial style across his chest and up to his shoulder.

The crowd sucked in a breath when Isolde appeared. I did not know how many centuries it would take for everyone to truly believe, truly accept. But Isolde had been my first friend among the Faeries of the Fen. She’d saved my life again and again. Guarded my mate in his time of need. She walked through the crowd, tiny and white, absolutely glowing.

Last came Queen Mya of the Aquarian Fae. Her consort was at her side, though he stepped back once he’d delivered her to her seat.

Arran squeezed my hand. It was time.

“Be seated, Knights of the Round Table.”

Isolde took the seat left open by Mordred. Osheen the one that had once belonged to Parys. And Mya, the one that had always been destined for her, the Siege Perilous. As they sat, the table glowed bright. When it faded a moment later, the scrollwork before each of them shone anew.

“Today we invoke the beginning of a new era. One of peace and most notably, of alliance.” As I spoke, Arran pulled the communication crystals from his pockets and set them on the table. “We are separated by distance, by custom, by blood. But we shall never be alone again.”

Arran arranged them in a line. “One crystal for each kingdom—elemental, terrestrial, Aquarian, and for the independent Faeries of the Fen.”

We’d talked about it four hours. Over meals, in the bath, while sparring in the training courtyard. We would always be separated by distance and custom and race. We were different peoples, and that should be honored. But our unity could not be forgotten. With my void power, Arran and I could travel between the kingdoms in the space of a heartbeat. But that power resided with me—and I needed to give some of it back. The communication crystals could not level the discrepancies inherent to our races. But they could give us a starting point for a new future.

“And the last?” Guinevere asked. I smiled across the table at her—because I’d known she would be the one to ask.

“For the humans.” I lifted my eyebrows in the direction of their delegation. “Though they will have to squabble among themselves to decide who gets it.”

Voices erupted. Humans arguing with humans. General Ache and another Aquarian I did not recognize stepped up to speak with Mya and Evander. I settled back in my chair, Arran’s hand claiming my knee.

Pant and Barkke stood between Osheen and Cyara, a lively discussion already in progress. It hurt, to see Parys’ seat occupied. To know that Arthur would never sit on the throne behind me.

I would never stop missing them. That was part of truly grieving—the knowing. Knowing I would never have a brother’s love again. Knowing I would never hear the rich raucous timber of Parys’ laugh.

We will see each other again.

Yes, we would. Not in this life. But in one of those glorious realms to come.

Arran squeezed my knee, stroking a thumb up along the inside of my thigh. “What do you need, Princess?”

I dropped my hand to cover his as I looked out at my Round Table, my friends, my court. “I have everything I need.”