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Behold, I thought. The mighty Mortal Queens. As we walked in a solemn line, it looked like we marched for a funeral.
And for a fleeting moment, I almost used the watch. I almost ran. But then I heard my brother’s voice and remembered all I fought for.
If this was how Dhalia had escaped, I’d lost my chance. I’d need a new way to survive.
Father waited at home with the door open as Malcom huddled behind him. Eliza’s breath hitched. “How can I feel such excitement and such fear at the same time?” Her hand clutched the neckline of her shimmering gown to pull it away from her neck where sweat had gathered.
“It’s a feeling I know well. Luckily, you have me.”
“Is it as wonderful as they say?”
I’d asked Gaia the same question. She’d given me the wrong answer.
“It is,” I said. She didn’t need the frightening bits yet. Let her feel hope for a little while longer. Hope made the goodbye easier. “It’s glorious there with every corner drenched in beauty we could only imagine. The wine is richer, the colors deeper, and their kings more handsome than any of our men. And they will adore you with every fiber of their bodies.”
Her smile grew at each word until the fear lived only in her eyes, and even then it was hard to find. As we crossed into my home, the smile fell. She spoke in a soft whisper.
“This realm was beautiful enough for me. I didn’t need more.”
A hundred changed details made home different. It smelled like primrose, and a beige rug had been rolled across the floor that our feet sank into. Framed art clung to the walls, each piece depicting what mortals guessed the fae realm was like. I could laugh at how wrong they were, but my stomach pinched with the realization that my family had filled their home with this crude art to bring themselves closer to me.
The most obvious change was that Father held on to Malcom, tucking his youngest son’s small frame in front of his wide body as if hiding him from the fae. Father’s hard gaze slid over the three fae before settling on Eliza.
“Cal is in your room,” he said. Eliza nodded and ran up the stairs.
The silver fae scowled and moved as if to go after her, but I held her back. “Give her one minute,” I commanded.
The other fae exchanged glances, but the silver fae’s eyes glazed over and she stepped back. “Yes, my Queen.”
Either she respected my rank, or Lord Winster had truly come through for me.
I knelt for Malcom, and he broke away from Father to wrap his arms around me. I took my first deep breath in ages at his touch and closed my eyes against the world. His curls tickled my neck, and his arms were tight enough to bruise, but I held on fiercely.
The entire splendor of the fae realm couldn’t compare to the beauty of this one small child. At only five—no, he’d be six now—Malcom was all that was pure and innocent and good.
I might regret this. One day, this might be an obvious mistake.
But I knew that all too soon the fae would be placing a mask over Eliza’s face and earrings in her ears, and we’d be gone.
I need this. It’s worth it.
I strained to reach for the watch on my wrist, and before I could give my logical side time to assess the decision, I pressed the button.
Time froze.
The fae were looking to the stairs for their new queen to return, my father was watching me with his blue eyes glistening, and Malcom’s arms were still around me. I couldn’t give him extra time. To him, this embrace would last no more than a few breaths, but I could take the next precious twelve minutes and hold tight to one of the most important people in my life.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Those tears turned to uncontrolled weeping.
I cried for my brothers, whom I wouldn’t get to see again. I cried for Eliza, who was being stolen away. I cried at the lost relationship with Bash. I cried for Gaia. This year had chipped away so many pieces of my heart. I was as broken as little Antonio with his missing arm. I’d thought myself strong, but as I hugged my brother, I looked over to my father to let his words echo in my ears.
You are not ready for the fae realm.
He’d been right all along, and I’d still never learn how he knew.
His jacket was pressed and his hair combed in a way he’d only ever styled it before Mother went missing. His face was clean, nails trimmed, and he wore a fine watch on his wrist, something that before would have been a token to bet away. Something had changed here since I’d left, something more than I originally thought. From the way Malcom had gripped Father’s hand and inched closer to him in the presence of the fae, I could see the bridge between my father and my brothers was not as broken as before. Repairs had been made.
As I studied him, my father blinked.
