Chapter 24

Twenty-Four

Rhoswyn

C aed finds us just after the darkness has begun to truly set in, and the small box clutched in his hand draws my eye like a magnet, distracting me from the stage and the fire dancers twirling on it. My own gift for him is nestled in a flat case in my pocket, and nervous butterflies of self-doubt have been eating at me since I purchased it.

Will he like it?

His return is a relief. Prae and her prince have been getting subtly closer to each other ever since Gryffin’s return over an hour ago, and despite the barbs between them, the sexual tension they’re both throwing off is undeniable.

And uncomfortable.

Fortunately, after that first flying lesson, Prae hasn’t come to any of the others, which means I haven’t had to endure… this . The two of them are exchanging heated looks, and I’m still not sure if it’s anger or arousal that’s flickering between them. I’m pretty sure it’s both.

Prae might not be convinced about mating him, but she’s clearly interested in fucking him. And that leaves me in the world’s most awkward position, caught between them.

Caed says nothing as he takes his place by my side, staring up at the dancers. It takes him all of a handful of minutes to catch on to the situation I’ve been dealing with, and when he does, he snorts.

“Have they been like this the entire time?” He jerks his head at the bickering couple, as if he could be talking about anyone else.

“Pretty much.” I sigh. “I half expect they’ll miss the lantern lighting because they’ll be too busy searching for a quiet room…”

His soft laugh tells me I’m right.

The performance winds down in a kind of companionable silence, and I smile as children start weaving through the crowd, dispensing bright red paper lanterns and urging the gathered fae towards the upper branches of the trees.

“Shall we?” I ask, noting that Gryffin and Prae have already disappeared.

That didn’t take long. Silently, I wish the fae prince luck. His week is up now, and I honestly can’t tell if Prae will kill him or accept the mating bond. The two of them are just one more problem in a long list of things to deal with, and I sigh again.

“Am I boring you?” Caed asks, a smirk playing on his lips.

“No! It’s just… heavy thoughts, I guess.”

He follows my line of sight to the spot where his cousin was a moment ago and shrugs. “Prae can handle herself, even if he does have his aunt’s gift.”

Humming a half-agreement, I reply, “For all that my Guard loses control of their powers almost daily around me, they’ve never harmed me. I’m not sure if it’s possible. I’m more worried about what could happen if he loses control here. There are children…”

Caed’s mouth thins into a line, which quirks a second later. “He could try getting cursed by Danu. It’s a hundred percent effective at eliminating errant magic displays.”

I can’t help it, I snort. “Yes, well, he’d have to be a little more…”

“Finish the sentence, little queen. I can take it.”

My tongue stalls, mouth opening, then closing as the laughter in those turquoise eyes steals whatever I might’ve said.

“You don’t have to worry.” He spares me the indignity of answering. “I think Prae’s decided. She wouldn’t have gotten dressed up if she thought there was a risk she’d get blood on the dress.”

“She’s a warrior,” I reply. “Surely blood on her dress isn’t a concern.”

He shakes his head. “Ordinarily, yes, but sometimes she can be really girly.” He shudders like the idea is horrifying. “She likes that dress. Besides, we’re on your side now. She won’t kill him and add a political shitstorm to your list of problems.”

I wouldn’t be so sure. Prae was adamant that she wasn’t my friend earlier, and I get it.

“Gryffin would be lucky to have her,” I say, meaning it.

Thinking about it now, I can easily see how both princes match her personality. Gryffin has her playful sarcasm and easy banter, and Florian’s fierce loyalty is a match for hers.

Then the crowd jostles us, breaking the moment, and I catch myself on Caed’s arm without meaning to.

“Sorry,” I mumble, hand fisting in the soft fabric of his shirt.

Then I give up, holding his arm like I used to in Fellgotha. It’s just easier.

Right now, the fae have no idea that their Nicnevin is among them, and that leaves me as just a smaller-than-average high fae with tired wings.

In contrast, Caed is a warrior with enough bulk to withstand the push of the fae straining to get to the top of the stairs.

When we crest that final ascent, it opens out onto a huge platform suspended in the uppermost canopy of the forest, with nothing but the glimmering stars above us. The lights glittering from other treetops are nothing compared to the celestial canvas, and I crane my neck to see more.

“I’d never seen the sky before Danu summoned me to take the oath,” Caed murmurs, pulling me over to one of the hundreds of thick rugs laid out and sitting cross-legged beside me. “It was night when I stumbled out of the cave, and I thought we were just inside another mountain. Imagine how dumb I looked when the sun came up and I thought the world was catching fire.”

I smile, folding my knees beneath me. “You were young.”

“Twelve,” he admits. “I’d already killed several times by then. I thought I was hot shit because I was good at it. Imagine my face when I first saw a barghest. It was pure luck I made it north and found a way home.”

I turn away. “I wish you hadn’t. It would’ve been simpler if you’d stayed with the fae. You wouldn’t have been banished to the deep caves…”

“And I’d never have met Bram.”

The name tears at something inside me, picking at the raw edges of a wound I thought I’d managed to close and tugging it open until I lose my breath.

“He saved my ass,” Caed admits, openly. “A tunnel wyrm was literally about to eat me, and my swords were doing almost nothing to it. I threw my hands up in a panic, and his fox caught sight of my mark. It’s probably the only reason he saved me.”

He holds out the box to me. “Here. Open it.”

“I think we’re supposed to wait until after the lanterns?—”

“Nah, this way’s better.”

I take the box with shaking hands, lifting away the lid to find two glass balls nestled securely in black paper.

“Left one,” Caed murmurs, and I take it out obligingly, giving him back the box with the other sphere still inside.

For a second, there’s nothing but glittering silver and black sand inside, but then it starts to warp, becoming a pair of male figures.

Caed is smaller, lankier, and sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, and the male in front of him is awkward, twisting his hands in a way that catches further on that wound and pulls painfully until my breath abandons me.

Then the ball echoes with a voice, and I have to wipe away the moisture beading at the corner of my eyes.

“Lad, you’re not going to last ten seconds in the Guard if you can’t tell me which courts are seelie and which are unseelie.”

“But we’ve been at this for hours.” Young Caed’s voice hasn’t yet broken, and that draws a shocked smile from me. “I already know all the rivers in Faerie, and I mastered my letters last week. Why can’t we stop for the day and make traps instead?”

“Because I only have a year to teach you enough fae customs that you don’t accidentally get your Nicnevin embroiled in a war on your first day on the job.” Bram shakes his head, but his tone is soft and patient. “Trust me. You want what Danu showed you? You’ll have to be better at being fae than me to take it.”

Young Caed shakes his head and huffs. “Fine. But after this, I want to go fishing again.”

“Lad, stabbing the fish with your magic is not fishing.”

“You’re only saying that because your way barely catches any fish.”

Bram shakes his head, and the entire memory dissolves into sand, only to reform a second later and play all over again.

“I thought, if you liked the lanterns, you could use the other sphere to record it.” He glances up at me, then curses at the sight of my face. “If you stab me, púca, I’ll stab you right back.” His hands cup my face, the rough skin of his thumbs delicately wiping away tear tracks. “It was a stupid idea. I should’ve picked?—”

“If you say a sword”—Goddess, does my voice have to shake quite so much?—“I will throttle you. This was… this was perfect.”

I barely got to know my youngest brother before his death, and Caed has given me a precious memory of what it might have been like had I been raised in Faerie surrounded by brothers.

“He was like a father to you,” I whisper.

Caed stiffens, and it’s his turn to hide his face, pretending to find something on the floor fascinating.

“For as long as it lasted. He taught me a lot, and I repaid him by using the lessons to invade Faerie.” He rolls his eyes, looking down. “Never did apologise to him for that.”

I’ve been so busy trying to bury my grief that I didn’t realise I wasn’t the only one mourning. Bram looked after Caed for a year. He knew him much better than I did.

A lantern floats into the air on our left, cutting into the painful discussion.

“Oh, I don’t have anything…” I look down at my own lantern, cursing my stupidity for not thinking to bring something to light the tiny candle at the base.

Caed clears his throat. “Fortunately, one of us is prepared.” He dips a hand into the pouch at his waist and draws out a thumb-sized disc of glimmering quartz. “Prae made me replace my fire striker because it was steel,” he mumbles under his breath. “Now I have to use this stupid magical fae—” He coughs. “I mean… quicker invention.”

He holds it up, then summons a tiny glamour spark in the centre. The enchanted quartz acts like a focus, magnifying the magical light above and turning it into real fire that strikes the wick at just the right angle.

The balloon inflates while he repeats the magic on his own lantern, and I frown.

“So now we make a wish?”

“Apparently.” Caed shrugs, but he’s frowning at his own like it might bite him.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I struggle to come up with something. Originally, I was going to choose something like the end of the war, healing for Bree, and the safety of my loved ones, but Jaro told me the wishes are supposed to be selfish. I’m supposed to choose something purely for myself.

It goes against everything my mortal upbringing taught, so perhaps that’s why I sit there for long enough to earn a sideways glance from Caed.

“What’s your wish?” I ask, then flush.

It’s pretty obvious what his wish is. He probably just wants to live past Beltaine.

“Can’t tell you, remember?” he murmurs. “Besides, if I say it out loud, I think the púca might take my head.”

Oh. Ohh . He’s wishing for something sexual? A forbidden thought breaks forward, and I suppress my smile. Could I be so bold as to do the same? Well, who would know if I did? Besides, no one said my wish had to be realistic, right?

So I lift my lantern into the air and with a soft smile, I wish for a day in the future where all five of my males are willing to share me in the same bed.

Caed’s lantern joins mine a second later, and without thinking too hard about it, I lean back against his chest to watch the two of them dance around each other as they spiral into the sky.

He doesn’t move for the longest second. When his arm wraps around my shoulder, it’s with a heart-stuttering uncertainty, like he’s either not sure I’ll allow the touch, or he’s worried Bree might take his hand for it.

To make it clear to my Guard in the shadows, I snuggle further into Caed’s chest, smiling softly to myself.

“I think I preferred it when you didn’t wear shirts,” I whisper, just to torment him.

Caed lets out a pained groan, and I chuckle. It could be the glass of fae wine, the sweetness of which still lingers in my mouth, or perhaps simply exhaustion from a long day, but I have the sudden feeling that tormenting my Fomorian might actually be fun.

“Focus on the fucking lanterns,” he grumbles a second later. “Before Bree decides to cut my nuts off for taking too many liberties.”

The sky is beautiful, and I take pity on him as I let myself trace the paths of the lanterns as they flutter towards the stars. The only way this could be more perfect would be if the rest of my Guard were here to share it with us.

My hand dips towards my pocket, remembering the case there. Oh Goddess, I should’ve just got him a sword. What if he doesn’t like it?

Crushing my self-doubt under the heel of feigned indifference, I draw it out and present it to him. “I suppose it’s time for your present…”

But before I can hand it over, someone screams.

“The Fomorian’s gone mad!” a male screeches from behind us, and Caed stiffens.

“Stop her!”

“What?” But Caed is on his feet immediately, pulling me with him.

“Prae.” Her name is a worried gasp as he drags us towards the source of the commotion.

I stumble to keep up with him as we dodge the other gathered fae on their rugs. My heartbeat is in my throat as the sound of swords clashing pushes us both into a sprint.