28. Aldrin

Chapter 28

Aldrin

T here was a time when I thought I would never step foot into my city again. When I dreamt of this moment. We walk the wide promenade of the capitol’s main entrance, a long bridge that spans the granite roots of the city. Streams run through the channels on either side of the road, cascading in thin waterfalls over the edge into the deep valley below.

Overhead, a series of immense golden gates arch over the road, dwarfing us with pillars as wide as an ancient tree, colonized by blooming vines. Between each gate stand larger-than-life statues of every king and queen who has ruled this court, facing their consorts on the opposite side. My ancestors.

Keira sucks in a sharp breath as she passes my likeliness in the last colossus, then turns wide eyes to me, as though she didn’t quite believe I am a king. The space for my queen remains empty.

All I can do is shrug.

It takes all my willpower not to pull her in by the waist and sink my lips into her neck. To whisk her away to the nearest place of privacy and have all of her.

The city opens up before us as we pass under the last golden gate, and my companions audibly sigh. Silvan wipes a tear from his eye. Drake laughs, a huge smile on his face. Klara looks up to the sky, ignoring the layers upon layers of buildings, to the golden palace at the apex of the city that we grew up in.

Only my original band travel with me, as well as Keira and Caitlin. Cyprien has already smuggled in my lower fae followers.

As I breathe in the amalgamation of scents of my city, spice, pollen, and coffee, a weight lifts from my shoulders.

Many of the streets of the City of Vertical Gardens are flanked by lazy streams, dotted with lily pads. Dozens of bridges arch away from each main road, crossing over each other and chaotically leading to clusters of shops, restaurants, bars or apartments.

There must be a hundred pools of water that break up the city blocks, and as many waterfalls trickling down the buildings, hydrating the thick canopies of blooms that occupy any available space on roofs and walls.

Clusters of buildings rise as tall as mountains, always with a base of shops, and a patchwork of apartments above, in different shapes and sizes. Walkways with arched railings hug every level and bridges or great staircases span the air between the mega structures, giving the illusion of webs between mountains.

A person can travel from one side of the city to the other, without ever having to descend to the lower platforms.

All manner of domes, spires, and towers grace the capital, jutting out of the sides and hanging in the air in many places. Every inch of the golden stone is adorned with engravings of flowers, leaves or runes.

An intense wave of pride rolls through me at not only the beauty of my city, but the pure ingenuity of it. The feat of magic and engineering to create such a wonder. My ancestors, along with the Tuatha Dé Danann gods, pulled the bedrock up from the ground to form its base.

Keira gravitates toward me, her rosebud lips parted as her doe eyes drink in the sight. Immediately, another image of her face flashes within my mind, flushed prettily and moaning as I pound into her.

“Aldrin, I had no idea a city could be so enchanting.” She gasps .

I give her a sidelong glance. “Would you like a quick tour?”

I need to be seen by enough people that they whisper about my return. It is my assurance that will keep the high chancellor’s hand in check. Word will spread while the Senate enters its session, still allowing me my element of surprise.

I want Keira to fall in love with my home. To bask in her wonderment as she takes in all its glory.

Her entire face lights up at my suggestion. “Oh, Aldrin, I would love that!”

I place a hand on the small of her back, and lead our party down an offshoot from the main boulevard.

Klara raises an eyebrow at me. “Is this wise? Should we not head straight to the palace?”

I pull my pocket watch out of my travel pack and inspect the time. “Let’s live a little. Twenty minutes to enjoy the city.”

I lead us through an open-air bazaar. It is on the ground level of an immense building on stilts, with only wide arches walling it in. Those regularly positioned columns are engraved with images of nymphs and vines.

Keira gawks and turns in full circles as she takes in the many stores.

We pass a shop that has spices arranged in pyramids of red, yellow, brown, and green, with dried herbs hanging from its ceiling. We practically have to pull Caitlin away, with promises to return.

Another stall has displays of flowers in every color imaginable, some larger than my hand. Some sell chocolates, perfumes, twenty types of olives, or fresh fruits. The entire space smells of the tang and richness of spices, vinegar and pollen.

Caitlin stops dead at a store that sells artisan painted glass lamps. There are fire orbs within them, illuminating the leadlight and casting their colors across the floor. Klara pulls her along by the elbow, and I am surprised for a moment, because I never took her for one to care for pretty things.

“All those fire orbs would be worth enough to buy a small estate back home,” Caitlin utters .

“They are cheap and common here,” Klara informs her. “Most high fae have enough fire magic to create their own. It is mainly low fae and elementals who buy them.”

Keira’s eyes dart around, as those she is trying to commit every detail to memory. A huge smile graces her lips. It fills me with pure happiness. I wrap an arm around her waist and lead her out of the bazaar.

We take a winding avenue up the vertical city. The platforms and staircases here are constructed from the roots and branches of a series of wisteria trees, their huge trunks melding in with the buildings.

The way is surrounded on both sides by cafes, restaurants, and bars, framed by the curtains of purple wisteria flowers, their fallen petals creating a carpet beneath our feet.

Tables and chairs and patrons spill out of each restaurant. The area buzzes with activity. There are musicians and street performers everywhere, lone artists playing instruments for diners at a restaurant or bands taking up one of the many dais built for them.

A lute player serenades us for a handful of steps, staring into Keira’s eyes while singing, until I toss him a coin. Keira comes to a full stop before a fae who creates flowing, colorful images in the air with light, her art a story of dragons battling each other, their long bodies fluttering and thrashing above our heads.

“It is beautiful,” Keira utters.

While she is transfixed by the show, I am mesmerized by her breathtaking loveliness. The colored lights reflect upon her skin, accentuating the soft curve of her generous lips, the vibrancy of her tightly curling hair and that line of cleavage I can see from my vantage point down the neckline of her dress.

Keira turns to say something to me, then notices the subject of my attention and that open mouth turns into a smile so wicked they don’t seem to belong to the same woman.

Gods, I could take her right now.

I feel like the king of the world when she gives herself to me. It is an utter privilege.

“We can’t linger here.” Klara breaks the tension .

I hate that she is right. I want the people to glimpse me, to question whether I am their king returned, but to be gone before any form the conviction to approach me.

We continue upwards, across golden bridges that span glittering waterfalls and past gardens of miniature rainforests nestled between buildings. Puca run rampage in some of the wilder parts, swiping food from the carts of unwary street vendors and scurrying up the sides of buildings in a flurry of black fur, long pointed ears and claws.

Of course, I have to stop to buy street food from those same vendors to see the look on Keira’s face as she eats it. They have some of the best food in the realm. I settle on skewers of spiced, charcoal-roasted meats and flaky pastries with berries and nuts.

“Damnnn, I have missed this!” Drake takes another bite of the meat, then sighs and throws back his head.

Keira licks the juices from her fingers. “And I thought the camp food was good!”

“Oh, my cooking is good.” Drake gives her a slow smile. “But I haven’t had the right resources in the wilds.”

“Are there no bounds to your ego, Drake?” Klara asks in a flat voice, but her lips quirk.

“Why should it have bounds?” Drake raises his eyebrows. “Especially if it’s true.” Klara gives him a deadpan look. “Come on, admit that you love my food.” He pokes her in the ribs.

Caitlin stares at a skewer, turning the stick around in her hand, as though she is trying to unpack every flavor on it. Her eyes flick up to her sister. “I want to buy spices to bring home. As much as we can carry.” Keira gives her a wide smile.

I glance at my pocket watch again. “On another day.” I hurry them along.

We take one of the many bridges that lead to the mouth of the palace. My heart fills with equal parts nostalgia and dread upon returning to my home.

The golden palace is perched at the highest reach of the city. It consists of immense, circular buildings adorned with arches, columns, and staircases that lead to levels of gardens and open platforms. Waterfalls run down the curved faces of the palace that are otherwise occupied by massive leadlight windows.

The highest garden has a circle of arched gateways at its top, with a diamond plinth in its center, once a portal to the world of the gods. At its apex is an open-air temple to the Tuatha Dé Danann. Once we worshipped and summoned our patrons from that site, until they stopped coming.

I would have loved to witness our creators stepping out of those portals, to bask in their glory, but it has been hundreds of years since they have visited us. Some believe our gods are dead. Maybe that is another reason our lands are dying.

Both Cyprien and Lilly wait for us in the courtyard that leads to the servant's entrance of the palace, casually leaning against a railing. They straighten as they spy us. Lilly collects my band and leads them away to their position for our move.

Cyprien is at my side, leading me through the garden. “Did you make sure you were seen in the city?”

“Yes. Rumor of my return will travel fast.”

“Good.” He nods curtly, setting the gold beads of his black hair clinking, despite how the braids are pulled back by a leather thong.

We exit the garden and take a staircase down to the Senate house, a small, cylindrical building with all the same golden features of the palace.

Cyprien holds open the back door for me and we make our way through narrow corridors of marble floors and walls, and into a waiting room. It is here that witnesses are called to give accounts during the Senate.

All my low fae companions wait here: the pixies, nymphs, fire sprites, selkies and kelpies. I greet each of them by name.

I stand behind the door, where the sound of muttering and footsteps from the other side, as the senators fill the House of Representatives.

“Don’t wait for an official summoning, because you won’t get it,” Cyprien whispers in my ear. “You’ll know your cue.”

He disappears the same way we came in, and within moments, his voice travels from the other side of that door, greeting his fellow senators. The buzz within the room increases, becoming so loud it is difficult to pull one conversation from another.

What I would give to have an eyehole into the room.

The sound cuts off all at once, as the clicking of heels on marble rings out.

“I declare the Senate is now in session.” A musical, feminine voice rings out. It sets my blood to ice and has my mind recoiling with rage. Titania. The woman who calls herself the high chancellor. “We have many, many issues to discuss. First on the agenda are the food shortages and low fae riots?—”

Titania stops speaking abruptly, as more footsteps echo off the stone floors, accompanied by gasps and murmurs.

“Cyprien? What are you doing?” There is a feral note to her outrage.

“I invoke the right to speak first! On the gravest of matters!” His statement cut over the top of increasing murmurs.

“No. No, you cannot speak first!” she snaps at him.

“It is his right!” a man calls out.

“It has always been the way of the Senate.” Another supporter chimes in.

“Let him speak!”

Cyprian roars. “I have discovered a betrayal to this Senate, to our people and the entire Spring Court.” The room falls silent. Not even the high chancellor speaks.

Anticipation has as cold sweat prickling my skin and sliding down my back. It would be so easy for Cyprien to betray me at this point. To hand me over to Titania for treason. I have considered it a thousand times, and dismissed it as many. But you never truly know a man.

“We have been lied to,” Cyprien pauses to let it sink in. “By this woman here! The high chancellor who calls herself the representative of the people and Senate.”

“You DARE lay such charges at my feet!” Titania roars.

“I do,” Cyprien replies.

“What evidence do you have?” That same supporter calls out. I recognize it as Bryce’s, and know they have struck an alliance before the session. Cyprien would be insane to make these accusations without lining up his supporters.

“I traveled to our border with the Winter Court—” Cyprien starts.

“Who gave you leave to go to the border!” Titania cuts in.

“Do I need permission to travel the territory? Should I have applied to leave the city?” Cyprien yells back, and the murmurs of agreement around him tell me how bad things have become, that this is almost a reality.

“As general of the armed forces, it is my job to inspect the border, the watchtowers and fortresses and check on the soldiers there. For years, I have been barred from doing this for one reason or another. My position is slowly becoming a title only, as my powers and authority is siphoned away by her secretaries. So I went on a covert mission, and do you know what I found on our border with an enemy that Titania claims is readying to go to war with us? Our fortresses and watchtowers were empty. Utterly empty! All of our soldiers have been moved away from the border with winter.”

Sharp gasps precede the eruption of yell and cries.

I tap my foot with agitation. It is killing me that I cannot see what is happening, the expression on each person’s face. There is much that can be told about a person’s true stance by watching their initial reaction to news like that.

“That is enough!” The high chancellor shuts the room down. “You will take his word over mine? The threat from winter is not coming from the borders, it’s coming from their technology! From plagues!” She is making it up as she goes, I can tell.

Some people fall so deep into the web of their own lies, that they convince themselves also.

The truth of the corruption is an inconvenience to her family’s business. If the people were to leave the capitol in large numbers and return to their posts in the wilds, her personal costs of selling them all the delicacies and commodities she trades in would skyrocket. Her family’s wealth would collapse and her base of power with it.

Titania has no noble blood and no ancestral right to the ruling class. In my reign, I made it so anyone could rise up the ranks. Titania bought her way in.

“The threat is very much evident at the borders,” Cyprien replies, venom for venom. “But not from winter. The high chancellor won’t let anyone near there because she doesn’t want you to see the true nature of it. Our magic is fading, we all know that, but at the border there are huge rips through the land, and within those rips are voids of complete nothingness. This realm is falling apart!

“The low fae are being born without half their limbs, and their flesh is rotting and turning to ash while they still live. I have proof and witnesses! Any person who travels there will see the truth of it firsthand. And you know what else I found at the border? Our rightful king, the only one with the nerve to address the problem, returning the corrupted low fae back to the earth so their magic could be redistributed. So I invited him here.”

A raging passion runs through my blood. This is my kingdom she is destroying. My people she is bringing to their knees. All because she cannot face the truth.

“Follow me.” I growl to my low fae supporters.

I slam open the door. The room turns dead silent as I stride across the mosaic floor and stand before the concentric rings of senators.

Titania sits in my throne facing the Senate, with a diadem on her forehead as though she were royalty. I send a single scathing glance over my shoulder at her, then thoroughly ignore her.

Those eyes of pure, swirling firelight narrow on me, lined thickly in black to match the tattooed midnight of her lips and her long hair. Runes glitter and move in swirls on the pale skin of her forehead, her hairline shaved back to give more space to the parlor tricks of the tattoos.

All of it is someone else’s magic imbued into her skin and eyes, because I know she has very little magic of her own. Those ears hidden beneath peaked caps of silver jewelry are almost rounded like a human’s.

Titania is irrelevant here.

As I turn away, I glimpse the ripple of fear that crosses her face, before she schools it into a haughty mask. She had power here, because I allowed it. The vote, the election and her reign all happened, because I allowed it. I respected the will of the Senate and people. But I was wrong.

I scrutinize the reactions of the thirty senators before me. How the light grows in some eyes and the resentment and distrust in others. There are so many new faces. Titania removes any senators who are an inconvenience to her, until only those who are too afraid to challenge are left.

A ruler is not meant to have that kind of power.

It could work in my favor. All these alienated lords and ladies.

My low fae witnesses line up behind me. The flames of the fire sprites suddenly rush upwards, their presence becoming larger than life. The kelpies rear back onto their hind legs and kick the air.

Pixies dart rapidly around the room, examining many of the senators by suddenly appearing in front of their faces, before dashing away. Only the selkies remain calm, completely in their land form with their seal skins draped around them like cloaks.

“This is the gravest threat we have ever faced.” I boom with passion. “Our world is unrevealing, fae are suffering, and this woman would have you pretend it is not happening. If we do nothing, our way of life will collapse. Everything we know will die.”

Unhappy murmuring builds around me. Fear coils in my stomach that my pleas will fall on deaf ears again.

“Is this a military coup, Cyprien?” Titania’s smile is cruel, taking advantage of the hesitation of the Senate. Her tongue is ever golden. “Is that why you are spinning these lies, to get your brother-in-law back in power?”

“How can it be a military coup, when I have no idea where you have stationed the soldiers I lead?” Cyprien snaps back.

“Aldrin should be arrested on sight. He has been exiled by the Senate and people.” Titania states in a bored voice, clicking her fingers at two guards who do not move.

“Not when he has been invited here by me, as a witness against your crimes.” Cyprien jumps in .

I glance sidelong at Cyprien, then at the powerhouse before me. “What do you say? Do you want to believe Titania’s lies again at face value, or do you want concrete evidence?” I raise my eyebrows at them, holding the eyes of key players. “How has her rule been going for you? I hear the food shortages have gone from a prediction in my reign to a reality under her. And riots?” I turn to Titania and tisk.

She launches out of my throne and for a moment I wonder if she will try to claw my face with those stupidly long, red lacquered claws of her fingernails.

Her facade of fake charm has vanished now that she rules by fear and bullying tactics. She stands there seething at me, jaws clenched with black lips pulled back to reveal her teeth. Tendons stick out on her all too skinny neck.

Titania’s mouth works and her arm thrashes out, a single finger pointed to the door, but no words come out. I cock an eyebrow at her. I hold a sound barrier of air around her vocal chords, because I am done with hearing the poison she spews.

Only a king or queen of this court can use magic in this room, and it is incredibly satisfying to remind her of who I am. Her eyes narrow on me, the literal fire swirling in them, as she mouths: I will destroy you . The problem is, she already did, and I survived.

Cyprien leans into me. “Is it a good idea to antagonize her?”

The senators argue, yelling over the top of each other like school children.

“I needed to know her hand,” I murmur, noting the fact that not a single person notices her silence. “She has gutted the Senate of power, hasn’t she?”

Cyprien nods. “Mostly. For now. She forgets the lords speak directly to the people, and can revolutionize them to invoke the power of the mob.”

“Too messy.” I shudder at the thought of the bloodshed that would entail.

Bryce slams a fist on the ring of tables before him, his huge form standing over it. “I want to hear from the low fae witnesses. Then, I want to go to the border myself to see what the flaming fuck is happening there.”

A clash of voices greet him, some for his idea and others against.

“What are you so afraid of!” Bryce yells to the clustered groups that argue with him. “If our king is wrong, then we will go there and see nothing. There will be no harm in it!”

I hold up both my hands and send out a commanding wave of magic, the kind that could force every person here to bow before me for a few heartbeats of time, but I dilute it enough that it shuts them up and forces their attention on me.

“I have companions here who traveled a long way to tell you their stories.” I spread out my arms toward the low fae. “Each of their tribes have sent representatives to petition the Senate, and all were blocked by Titania’s secretaries. Since when do we send away fae in need before even hearing them?” My tirade ends in a furious roar.

Everyone turns to Titania, where she lounges on the throne, legs crossed so that a heeled shoe hangs in the air. She flicks that clawed hand in the air a few times, rolling her eyes as though she is allowing me to speak, to damn myself.

As I turn away, one of her secretaries rushes over to her.

Damn. I’m running out of time.

“Get to the point, Aldrin. Her personal guards will swarm this room in minutes,” Cyprien whispers.

“I suggest a full tribunal and trial,” I say. “An investigation into the evidence I have brought you today. Send people to the borders. Do not dismiss these low fae in their time of need. It is our duty to help them. That is why we are the ruling class.”

Both sides latch onto the idea of a tribunal, and senators stand and clap.

I hold up a hand. “I stepped down from my rule by my own accord, when the Senate and people voted me out. When I believed a competent ruler was going to take my place. But Titania has brought nothing but lies, corruption and gross negligence. I will not allow her to destroy us”

The room explodes with chaos, and fall silent again as soon as I speak. “I will remain in the capital and the royal quarters for the entire duration of the inquiry. My doors and receiving room will be open to any who want to speak to me, or my witnesses.”

The crashing footsteps of guards rushing down the back corridors of the Senate house reach my ears. Cyprien shoots me a panicked glance.

I have no idea how far Titania will take things in the heat of the moment.

I half turn and smirk at her. “Titania, I assume you were not arrogant enough to move into the royal quarters?” I laugh as step out of the front doors of the Senate house, knowing full well that she did. This calculated slap to her authority. A ridicule of it.

I step out the main doors of the Senate house as Titania’s private guard bursts into the room. My loyal band surrounds me immediately, hands on the hilts of their swords, as well as Cyprien's loyalists. They were of my original King’s Guard, dedicated to me .

Silvan grasps my arm and leads me away from the Senate house. “I do not like you being put into risk without me there.” He growls as he slips straight back into the role of Captain of the King’s Guard.

I shoot a single glance back through the open doors of the Senate house. At the mess I left in my wake. Every member is on their feet and yelling. Papers scatter everywhere as tempers fly. My smile falters as my eyes fall upon the armed guard in their midst. I do not recognize their faces, or the foreign uniform.

The high chancellor has taken far too many liberties.