49. Wicked Sense of Humor

forty-nine

Wicked Sense of Humor

Alessia

“ T here are more Angelli here than I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Ezamae says with wonder.

We stand in the great hall, watching the dozens of folk come in and out. Inside, they appear almost human—albeit ethereally beautiful, impossibly strong humans. But once they reach the ground level, feathered wings shoot from their backs as they explode into the sky.

They drop off iron by the bucketload—some in rock form, some already forged as weapons. The mound grows as the day goes on.

Lex wasn’t kidding when he said he brought friends.

“Who is that?” Ez asks, pointing to Aife.

She stands on the opposite side of the room with Dash, a hand planted on her hip as she barks orders to the Angelli. Dash watches her with a smirk, like she’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m not really sure, but she makes a great leader.” I shrug. “And she has multiple lovers.”

“Interesting.” Ez makes a face of approval. “I do see the appeal in that lifestyle.”

I elbow him, and he chuckles.

“Speaking of. How are things with Fern these days?” I ask.

His smile fades. “I would rather talk about your love life, how about that?”

“How about no.”

“Where is your broody bonded anyway?”

“He’s up top tending his roses.” Shortly after we decided to share courts, he began a garden here, taking full advantage of the sunlight. “He’s not fond of our visitors—despite their help—so he’s keeping busy.”

Ez laughs. “He’s come a long way.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, studying Ez’s profile as the Angelli grunt and groan around us, dropping piles of iron off.

He glances at me, lifting a brow. “I hadn’t seen the Umbra Prince in years before you came along, and now I see him almost daily. Even when he hosted Ostara, he rarely made appearances. He was a prisoner to his own mind—locked in a tornado of self-pity. You helped him find his freedom, Alessia.”

My chest warms as I smile to myself.

“After all that nagging for us to consummate the bond, and you still haven’t killed Yvanthia,” I say.

“Sh, not so loud.” Ez looks around, then flicks his wrist, and a brief blast of air washes over me. “Now we can speak freely.”

“What’s holding you up?”

He sighs, kicking at the stone floor with his silver boot. “There was a slight miscalculation on my part… a minor hold up. However, I am reevaluating and have devised a new plan to remove her.”

“You mean kill her?” The casual reference to murder is so absurd that I want to laugh, but Yvanthia has been a menace to two realms for hundreds of years. It’s time for her to go. The era of change is upon Avylon, and Ez would make an extraordinary king .

“If you’re concerned about your bonded, don’t be. Yvanthia’s attention is focused elsewhere these days—you and Rainer are two tiny rainclouds in a sky of storms.”

My brows flit up. “Should I be worried about you?”

“I’ve got it under control.”

“And if you need help, you will come find me, right?”

“Right...”

“Promise?”

He chuckles, turning his sharp silver eyes on me. “I must go now, Alessia. I will bring Laisren from Ignus Court, and then I must return to Yvanthia.”

“You can’t stay?” The thought of him returning to that wretched queen turns my stomach.

“No,” he says sadly. “But best of luck to you. I will see you sooner rather than later.”

My forehead wrinkles. “Wait. What do—”

He disappears before my eyes, leaving a slight breeze and a faint shimmer where he stood. I sigh, tossing my braid over my shoulder and striding out of the great hall.

A pixie flits toward me, nearly crashing into my face. “Spiritus Princess!”

“Yes?” I chuckle as the fist-sized creature tumbles in the air, doing excited backflips.

“The old princess from the portraits is here! She’s here!”

My nerves come alive. “Enid? She’s here?”

“Yes! In the foyer!”

My heart thunders in time with my footsteps as I jog to the entrance of my court. What will Enid think, being back home after all this time? Does she still consider it home? Should I be worried that she wants her home back?”

No no no, my shadow-self says. This is your home now. You are the Spiritus Princess. Beside, she’s magic-less. Much good that’d do for the court.

I let the words wash over me, finding power in them. Ever since I accepted the darker side of me, things have gone much more smoothly. In fact, admitting the primal urges are mine has helped me control them better than trying to ignore them.

“My dearest!” Enid bellows, opening her arms the moment she sees me.

Dressed in a regal teal gown that’s snug around her top and billowing out around her as it sweeps the floor, she looks every bit a queen . Her ash-blonde hair is tied up in a smooth bun, hiding away our shared curls.

Awkwardly, I move into her arms and let her embrace me. Her lemongrass and peppermint scent is soothing, so familiar that I can’t help but melt in her arms.

“Welcome home,” I mumble.

She chuckles, patting my back tenderly. Then, she pulls away, holding me at arm’s length.

“This has not been my home in a very long time.” She smiles. “I am very pleased to see you breathe life into these abandoned halls once more.”

An old female with dark, wrinkly skin and shaking hands peers at me from behind Enid.

“Who is that?” I whisper to Enid.

She chuckles, turning and waving the female over. “This is Deidre. The sorceress I was telling you about. ”

“Welcome,” I say to Deidre. She stares blankly, her lips tugging into a frown.

“She is rather old—and tired,” Enid says, patting my cheek. “Introduce us to your sorceress so we shall get on with it.”

Everyone works tirelessly for the next few weeks, and my heart fills with love and relief. We can achieve so much more when we combine our resources and skills.

I pass the great hall, peeking my head in. A blast of heat hits my face as I take in the enormous, controlled fire in the center of the room. Chunks of iron sit in a fireproof container, slowly melting beneath the flame’s impossible heat. Though I can’t see him because he’s on the other side of the fire, I know it’s the Ignus Prince’s flameweaver power responsible. Quite frankly, the male scares me with his spiky collar, tight leather, and chains. His dark eyes are smudged with kohl and he wears an unwaveringly stern expression.

I shudder, backing away from the doorway before he finishes. My elbow bumps someone as they pass.

“Princess,” an Angelli says as she bows her head, shuffling quickly past with two more buckets of iron.

She’s gone before I can say anything.

“It’s hot as hell down here,” Fern’s voice calls from down the hall. “They’re not done yet?”

I turn as she strides toward me. Her face is expertly made up, but her eyes are bloodshot, and I can’t tell if she’s been crying or using. My chest tightens with empathy. Soon, Sera should have an elixir made with just enough iron to neutralize Fern’s addiction without harming her. With Ez’s life tethered to Ferns, I know Sera will take it more seriously than ever.

I offer Fern a friendly smile, knowing she needs the kindness more than she lets on. “They should be done today.”

She grimaces. “Have you seen the damn Aer Prince?”

“Not since he brought Laisren.” I study her reaction, trying to figure out if it’s good that she’s looking for him. “Is everything okay?”

Her nose scrunches, and she flicks her silky, burgundy hair over a shoulder. “Forget it.”

“Sera might know where he is.”

“Why would she know?” Fern’s lips harden. In jealousy? Frustration? Something else? “I’ll see him when I see him.”

She turns and practically stomps away. I watch her go, shaking my head. I’m not getting involved with her and Ez—that’s their business to work out.

Instead, I head to the apothecary to see how things are moving along with Sera.

Enid, Dedire, and Sera work in tandem around a makeshift cauldron in the corner of the room. Deidre’s eyes are narrowed in focus as she watches Sera pour in melted iron, using a trembling hand to encourage her to add more and telling her when to stop. Enid stirs, ensuring everything mixes well.

“They’re bringing the last batch of iron soon,” I say in lieu of a greeting. They finish what they’re doing and glance up at me .

Enid smiles. “My dearest. Deidre and I will be returning to Dovenak this afternoon. I am not comfortable leaving the throne unattended another day.”

I nod. “I understand.” Thank you for coming , I want to say. “It means a lot that you came to help.

She steps away from the cauldron, gripping my hands in hers and giving them a squeeze. “That is what family is for.” Releasing me, she steps back to her position and resumes stirring with the steel spoon resting in the cauldron.

I approach Sera’s side. “Princess Sennah is coming to help soon.”

Sera doesn’t meet my eyes. She bites her lip, keeping her gaze down. We both know what I’m not saying: Sennah doesn’t forgive Seraphina for killing her brother. The moment she killed Eoin—accident or not—she sealed her fate. The other fae won’t stop Sennah if she tries to kill Sera—it’s a debt owed.

Finally, Sera sighs and looks up. “I’m going with them.”

“Who?” I ask, confused.

“Deidre and Enid,” she says.

As if on cue, the two older females nod to each other and step out of the room to give Sera and me space.

“You’re going to Dovenak?” I tilt my head, and my brows draw together. “For how long?”

She shrugs. “I’ve never had a mentor before, and Deidre has much she can teach me. Plus, she’s…” A long exhale comes out of her mouth. “She’s sick. Old. She can’t use her hands much. I can help her, Alessia. I can help Enid and the Tradelings. I can put my skills to use somewhere where it matters.”

“But you matter here, too.”

Sera laughs softly. “There’s nothing here for me, and you know it. Ez has a soul-bond now. Sennah wants me dead, and I don’t feel like running.”

“Going to Dovenak is exactly that,” I say.”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s moving on with my life.”

"Tynan needs you," I say.

Her brows pinch together as she gives me an apologetic look. "Alessia," she says softly. "I don't think he's waking up. His aura isn't growing any stronger, and we've given him more than enough blood and time."

Sorrow grips my throat. I shake my head.

The look of pity she gives me forces me turn away.

"You have to accept it," she says. "Everyone else has."

“Are you sure you don't want to stay?" I ask one last time, returning to the original conversation. "I like having you here, Sera."

“I’m sure.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. “I can rectify my past mistakes and contribute to a positive future. I have numerous debts but am unwilling to sacrifice my life to settle them. This is how I absolve myself.”

Scrutinizing her, I try to read between her words and look for any doubts or insincerities, but find none.

“Okay,” I say, nodding softly. “You deserve to find your peace and happiness. Even after everything.” And I hope she finds it. We’ve all made mistakes, and Sera’s stemmed mainly from looking out for others. “You deserve to put yourself first for once.”

She smiles sadly. “Now who’s giving the good advice.” A soft chuckle leaves her. “I told you we’d be friends in another life.”

“No. We are friends. In this life, Sera.” I’ll be back to Dovenak. How could I not visit? I have family there now. There’s so much I have yet to learn about my bloodline and my court. Like Deidre can be a mentor to Sera, Enid can be a mentor to me.

Plus, I will personally ensure the Tradelings find their freedoms. I’ll do anything to help their transition, including opening my home as a refuge. In a way, despite my horrible past there, Dovenak will always be a piece of me.

“So, this is goodbye,” Sera says.

“For now,” I add. “I’ll see you soon, though.”

Her smile widens. “I’d like that.”

“Maybe I’ll bring Ken, too,” I tease.

This time, when she laughs, she throws her head back. It’s a beautifully untamed sound. “That bear is no good.”

“He means well.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “I think he does. Do you… know where he is? I want to say goodbye.”

I press my lips together, fighting the grin trying to break free. “He’s sparring with that Angelli—Callan—and the two Tradelings we brought back—Zephyr and Luis.”

“Do you think he’d mind if I interrupted?”

This time, I have to turn my back on her because my smile wins out. “I don’t think he’d mind at all.”

I head to the door. Pausing at the threshold, I turn back to her. “Speaking of looking for folk—do you know where Ez is?”

She shakes her head. “Haven’t seen him. Why?”

“His bonded was looking for him.”

Sera sighs, but she forces another half-smile. “A human…” She shakes her head. “That one is a handful. She might be just what that damn enchanter needs.”

Unsure of how to reply, I share a look of understanding with her and then head out of the apothecary.

Sometimes, fate has a funny way of giving us just what we need before we realize we need it.

Other times, I swear Fate—the god—has a wicked sense of humor.