34. Keira

Chapter 34

Keira

I don’t know how long I stay in my grandmother’s arms, but she doesn’t hurry me. If anyone understands, it is her. She fell in love with a fae as well.

My father materializes and practically pulls me from her, crushing me against his chest. Those thick arms wrapped around me make me feel so incredibly safe. “Do I need to fight my way through a portal and slice the flesh off whichever fae hurt you?” My father growls, his body practically shaking with rage.

“No, father. There is no fae for you to hunt,” I utter.

He leans his cheek on the top of my head, and I take comfort from it.

When I finally pull myself together and scrub my tears away, I realize we have an audience.

There are pavilions set up in the meadow. Living quarters for the team who powered the portals so we could return, and any loved ones waiting for us.

Gwyneth runs to Caitlin and wraps her in an embrace, kissing her passionately. There is such bliss on her face, her almond eyes squeezed tight, that it is painful to look at .

Prince Finan strides across the grassy field toward me, the crowd practically parting around him.

My grandmother leans into me to whisper in my ear. “Now is not the time for drastic decisions.” Both she and my father pull away to give us a little privacy.

My blood turns to ice and I have to resist the urge to back away when Finan stops before me. A huge, cocky smile dimples his face and his ice-blue eyes light up as they roam over me, appraising my body. How had I never understood the way he looks at me, like a predator sizing up its prey?

I stand there, utterly shocked at facing him again, as unsteady as a leaf in the wind with my support drawn away.

Perfectly manicured ringlets of blue-black hair fall across his forehead, and I realize how pretty he is, in a young, girlish manner. He is at complete odds with the raw sexuality of Aldrin’s masculinity. A boy compared to a man.

I wonder if I was ever truly attracted to Finan, or just the idea of him.

He sweeps me into a hug, pressing his narrow, boney body into me like he has every right, and peppers kisses across my face. My skin crawls like I am covered in insects, and the deepest need builds within me to thrust him away. He pecks my lips in that onslaught, but I don’t give him anything more.

I stand there, limp.

“Keira. I am so happy you are back.” Finan pulls away, his eyes level with mine. I forgot how short he is. “I waited for you, like I promised. You see, I have camped here for weeks, so I would be here when you returned. Can you imagine it? Me, camping?” His obnoxious laugh is like claws running down my spine.

Behind him, there is a massive royal pavilion in deep shades of purple, with servants teaming busily around it.

Finan folds my arm into his and leads me away. “Was it horrible?” He asks, without stopping to hear my answer. “I bet it was horrible.”

My spirits sink to an even further low. This is what I came back for .

I am in a daze as I take the trek up to Lake Mistwater with other priestesses. Nothing feels real, even as I place the Lake Maiden’s seed-stone into the pool that is fed by springs that run from the Otherworld.

I should be immensely proud of this feat. Instead, my hands shake and a vice clenches my heart, winding tighter and tighter with utter agony.

Too many of the priestesses send sympathetic, understanding glances my way, and it makes me wonder how many beloved fae we have left behind collectively.

This final act means my pilgrimage is truly over.

There is nothing left holding me to Aldrin and his world.

I ride a white dappled mare on the journey to Appleshield Castle, and actually miss Kai’s insane prancing and spurts of galloping. The pace is incredibly slow as we meander behind Finan’s royal carriage.

Every time I look at the gilded thing of unnecessary opulence, my chest constricts and I fear I will suffocate.

He almost forced me to ride in it with him, but I insisted that I desperately wanted to experience the sights, sounds and scents of my home. How I longed for them. I didn’t even feel guilty telling the lie.

The lands have changed with the passing of time. The spring blooming is well under way and transitioning into the summer. I have to remind myself that only a single month has passed here. It feels like a lifetime. Trees now boast a full canopy of leaves, with small, hard knots of fruit beginning to redden. Bulbs flourish across the fields, dotting them with color.

I once would have found beauty in this sight, but it is a mockery compared to the Spring Court of the fae.

We reach the Appleshield Fortress, my home, but the sight doesn’t fill me with the relief and warmth I would have expected.

I stare at it, trying desperately to elicit an emotional response. It is like the blocky, golden towers and turrets that jut high above the immense wall suddenly mean nothing to me. Neither do the many watch towers or the slanted roofs of red tiles that shimmer under the sunlight.

None of it screams home anymore.

Masses of the common people flank the road that winds up toward the castle, cheering our arrival and tossing petals onto our path. They must see two newly appointed priestesses, dressed in white gowns with crowns of jasmine and ivy, but I do not see them at all. My mind is completely blank, refusing the world around me.

I blink and find myself in the courtyard entrance of the castle, and an intimate group of my family and friends fills it. I am helped down from my mare and engulfed in my mother’s embrace, then my father wraps his long arms around the both of us as they laugh.

In a heartbeat Diarmuid lifts me off the ground and squeezes me so tight I feel it in my ribs. My brother only lets me go so our baby sister Brianna can hug me.

I am like a limp ragdoll, tossed from person to person, but it helps to melt the ice in my chest. Caitlin keeps shooting me worried glances as she talks intently with our father.

My focus drifts to my grandmother. She whispers in my mother’s ear with urgency, whose expression changes as she turns sharply to me, seeing what is before her. The grief on my face and the fact I am struggling. My mother charges through the crowd, wraps her arm around my waist and pulls me away from all those bodies.

My bedroom is exactly as I left it. The chamber is too small and simple for the woman I have grown into.

I sleep for an entire day and night, and each time I open my eyes, either my mother or Caitlin are right there in the room with me. My father and grandmother visit multiple times, and they speak in hushed voices in the corner. Finan arrives at the door and demands to see me, and he is sent away with explanations of me needing time for recovery.

I know I can’t melt down like this every time life throws me hardships. That I need to grow up and toughen up, but it is so hard to function when my brain shuts down. When my ears roar and my legs turn dangerously weak.

I have always been more prone to bouts of depression than other people. Maybe it's okay to be weak and soft and vulnerable. To feel my emotions so vividly, because it lends me great empathy.

This kingdom would be a better place if there were more people with compassion in it.

I wake to my grandmother sitting on the corner of my bed. “Sometimes, when pilgrims return to this world, they struggle to find grounding here. A piece of them still lingers in the Otherworld. I believe your heart stayed behind.”

I swallow hard and nod.

“I say this from a place of love. You need to harden your heart, lock away your grief for later, and get back onto your feet. What you do next will set the course for the rest of your life. Do you understand me?” Her body is whipcord tight.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree with me?”

I nod.

“Good. Because you need to decide if you are going to marry Finan, or if you are going to take on the full duties of a working priestess. You have options now, but the royal family won’t wait for much longer.” She places a hand on my knee through the blankets. “But first child, tell me everything that happened. Do not leave out a single detail.”

We talk for long, bitter hours, and it feels cathartic. For the first time, I hear more details of my grandmother’s pilgrimage all those years ago.

Our stories are so similar, and so very different.

Aldrin had never turned into the wrathful, possessive fae that tried to lock my grandmother away and stop her from returning home. Not even at the end, when I told him I was leaving. The thought starts my sobs anew.

When the shadows lengthen across my bedroom floor and bright beams of the afternoon sun burst through my window, I pull together my resolve, and find Finan.

He is in the drawing room, holding a chalice of wine lazily in one hand and reclining on a low couch, staring intently at the chess game before him. My brother sits opposite, moving a piece across the board. Finan lets out a laugh, dimples forming at his cheeks, as he grabs his queen and places it before Diarmuid’s king.

“Checkmate!” Finan exclaims. “Again! I must be a natural at this game.”

I carefully school my features as both men turn to me, Diarmuid raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile. I know what he is doing. My brother is the strongest chess player in my family. Not even our father can beat him.

He is playing politics already, likely using the time spent at these games to worm his way into Finan’s good graces. That will be his job when we marry.

The world spins around me and I feel like another woman moves my body. As though I am watching from the sidelines. Surely this can’t be my reality.

Finan’s face lights up as his gaze falls on me, leaping up from his seat and taking my hands. “Keira, you look stunning. They told me you were sick and I started to worry.”

Behind Finan, Diarmuid catches my attention, pointing to himself, then the door, in a silent question. I nod to and he makes his retreat.

“It took time to adjust. I got whiplash to my magic on the journey back, but I am far better now.” The lies come easily to me.

Finan sits on the couch and pulls me into his lap, his hands wrapping around my hips. It takes all my willpower not to pry them away.

“I want you to marry me, Keira,” Finan urges. “Be my queen. Let’s go to the capital and have the ceremony immediately. I’m done waiting.”

Be my queen. How those words make my chest ache and stomach turn. How they remind me of the man who has my heart. I push those feelings down until there is nothing but numbness to replace them .

“Yes, Finan, let's leave for the capital as soon as we can. We will marry when my family can join us there.”

His lips pout. “I suppose you are right. There will be mutiny if we do not allow time for the lords to assemble for the royal wedding.”

Finan’s fingers start tracing circles on my hip, weaving their way through the layers of fabric to find my bare flesh. I shudder with revulsion, but he thinks it is for a very different reason, and leans in to kiss me. I place a finger on his lips, gently pushing his face away.

“We cannot do any of that. Not until we know if I am pregnant to the magic,” I say.

His mouth hangs open. “Could it be possible?”

I give an alluring half-smile. “Anything could be possible, and I have been told that it is very fragile at the beginning. Any sort of excitement could make it miscarry. Besides, we won’t know if I am pregnant to the magic or to you if we get too carried away.”

It is a convenient lie my grandmother gave me to tell him, so I could have time to adjust to my duty. There is no chance I am pregnant.

His hand runs up my thigh and I cringe. “Does it matter how a baby is created? It will be mine either way.”

“It matters to the baby,” I say, taking his paws off me. “Imagine, a future monarch AND a magical conception. The child would be celebrated across kingdoms.”

A wide, satisfied smile fills Finan’s face and he makes a show of lifting his hands from me and holding them up in the air. I almost feel guilty at the joy on his face. He pulls a ring from his pocket, and slips it onto my finger. I don’t even bother to look at it.

We are not alone for long before we are summoned to dinner.

It is a private affair, only my immediate family and Finan. I find it hard to eat, moving my food around my plate. Everything is bland compared to fae food. Boring without Drake’s spices. Deep sadness rolls through me at the thought of him. I don’t even know if he will live.

My parents entertain Finan with conversation, making him laugh with their stories, pretending that everything is okay. I am grateful for the fact, as I am utterly washed away by the tide of conversation, unable to follow it. Fatigue settles over me and dampens my mind.

When Finan announces our informal betrothal and fast plans for a wedding, the room turns deadly silent for a heartbeat of time, as all eyes fly to me.

I cannot bear the searching looks they give me. The pinch between my mother’s eyebrows, or my father’s flared nostrils. I give a curt nod and hold up the hand with the ring on it. This is all I can manage.

Finan has a huge grin on his face, glancing from person to person, awaiting his congratulations and not seeing what is right there before him. Immediately the room erupts in well wishes and celebration, and my father calls on a servant to bring his oldest bottle of wine.

I make my excuses to leave early, feigning that sickness again. Finan pats me on the shoulder, hardly breaking from conversation, and allows a servant to take me to my rooms. Aldrin would have dropped everything to make sure I made it to bed safely.

I don’t sleep. I pace the room instead.

The hours tick by with my thoughts screaming and circling around inside my head. My chambers feel like a coffin, so I walk through the keep instead. I aim for the library, but somehow find myself at my father’s study instead. Voices drift out from it and I stop to hear them.

“She is not in the right frame of mind to make this sort of decision. Keira all but broke it off with Finan before her pilgrimage.” My mother hisses.

“Maybe she saw something on the other side that gave her clarity.” My father replies.

“You need to do something, Edmund! To stop this. He should have asked you before putting a ring on her finger.” Her voice has a shrill note.

“Asked me?” Fire builds in my father’s tone. “I have been encouraging him for years to propose to Keira. And there is nothing I can do to stop this without causing royal offence. It needs to come from her.”

The silence between them drags out for so long, I almost leave, until my father speaks again. “We set her up on this path since she was a child, Meave. She has only ever wanted to marry the prince, except for when she heard King Willard’s cruel words. We have to trust her now, and let her go on her chosen path.”

“I know.” Mother half sobs. “It is so hard to let go. She is still a child in my eyes. And for her to move so far away and be so vulnerable, it is terrifying.”

“Diarmuid will be with her. They will take care of each other.”

“I don’t think she is marrying him for a great romance, but to be queen and make a difference to this kingdom. The fact that she will miss out on the kind of love we have breaks my heart.” My mother chokes out.

I walk away, unable to handle their torment over my bleak future. A chill runs down my spine. I rarely witness any emotion in my mother.

The next morning, I am parceled up into the royal carriage, dressed in a puffy gown of silk and entwined in enough gems to befit a princess. It is a ludicrous way to dress for the road, but Finan expects nothing less.

The inside of the carriage is spacious, with two benches of cushioned seats facing each other and heavy drapes of purple velvet hanging open across the windows. A small table is built into the center.

Finan, Diarmuid and a lording named Cormac play Lord’s Cards. According to Finan the game is more dignified than those played by commoners and guards, but the only difference I can see is the gold leaf lacquered into each elaborately painted card.

I stare out the window, bored out of my mind and watching the scenery change, because card games are not becoming of a lady. Diarmuid keeps shooting me glances, while he and Cormac entertain Finan. I know I am not doing my part. I should be fawning over Finan, trying to steal kisses at each stop and making sure he doesn’t forget about how badly he wants me as his wife, even for a second.

I don’t care.

I shouldn’t have to play games and dance around in exhausting circles, just to keep the interest of the man who will be my husband .

It takes almost a week of traveling to get to the capital, because the carriage can only travel at a snail’s pace and must take the main highways.

A personal pavilion tent is set up for me each time we camp for the night, with its own antechamber, where I have Diarmuid sleep to protect me from nighttime visits. It's what would be expected of a lady’s brother and chaperone.

The temperature increases the closer we get to Sunbright City, and I sweat in my heavy skirts in the combined space of the carriage. The deep humidity is foreign to me. Hard and heavy to breathe.

As the Sunbright City comes into view, sprawling out across the horizon and ending at the mouth of a glittering bay, I prop both my hands on the window frame and stare out of it. A tall wall encircles the old parts of the city, interspersed with towers that have conical roofs of terracotta tiles.

Before it a shanty town spirals out, many of the haphazard buildings lean against the wall and each other. The ground is of baked, cracked mud, scattered with rubbish. Dirty children run around in rags. The smell of sweat and sewage is incredibly strong.

Finan keeps talking, as though he notices none of this.

A crowd forms around our procession, watching with curiosity, but no one cheers or throws petals. Where would they even get flowers from here? There is no greenery.

We approach massive gates, and soldiers run out of the guardhouse as soon as they see us. They part the crowd waiting to enter the city with their clubs, so we can glide straight through.

I crane my neck to see a woman fall to the ground under their attack, instantly swallowed by the churning crowd. A man who tries to go to her defense is hauled away by guards. There are more blows made to those peasants even after we pass.

Horror fills me at the blatant cruelty. At the needlessness of that pain inflicted.

The carriage passes under another gate and horns blast above us to mark our presence. I jump at the sudden sound.

Finan laughs at me, playing a hand on my thigh. “Get used to it, sweetheart. They are going to trumpet our arrival at every checkpoint.”

I place my hand on top of his and force a smile.

We enter the city proper, and the first thing I notice is that there is so much stone. Every inch of the ground is paved. The buildings are of tan colored brick and the roofs fashioned in terracotta tiles. They are of the same blocky shape and size, three stories high.

Pale travertine stone fountains gurgle at every corner, with water pouring from sculptures of people or animals, but these are the only artworks adorning this city.

The castle in the distance is sprawled out on a rise. I would have thought it grand, with spires and turrets capped in terracotta, before I visited the fae realm.

It is in the same bland monotones as the city, the high wall and a dozen guard towers setting it apart. Rather than reaching to heights like most castles, it spreads out across the hilltop like there is no shortage of land in Sunbright City.

It is merely an ugly mark on the earth compared to Aldrin’s golden palace in the sky.

This entire city is dead and monotonous.

I didn’t only fall in love with the king of the Spring Court, my heart was captured by his home as well.

This place, and its prince, could never compare.