AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dust licked my sandals and filled my mouth with its dry texture. The sandy roads felt smaller than usual, almost choking me between polished stone gates. Ahead, Malcom laughed atop Cal’s shoulders. I debated telling them about Father’s recklessness for only a moment. Today was special, decked in free sweets and a glimpse of the fae. It shouldn’t be ruined by foolish fathers.
Life would change for someone today.
The fae ambassadors came once a year to select their new high queen, a mortal girl to rule in their realm. She’d be swept into a world so beautiful, it made the stars weep, or so the stories went. We’d see her at next year’s Queen’s Day Choosing Ceremony, then never again. She’d be lost to us, but she’d be royalty among the fae.
It was a life I’d always dreamed of, even grander than that of a painter’s apprentice. But you won’t win. I was reminding myself of that now, burying the words between the hopeful beats of my heart, the way I always had to on this day of the year. You won’t win.
I passed under the golden sparrow-tailed banners that swept from pillar to marble pillar, and the growing roar of the crowd drowned out the hissing wind. Cal finally paused to let me catch up, then we melded into the throng.
The excitement of the day wafted from everyone around us. Cal said something in my ear, and Malcom’s smile dimpled his cheeks.
“I knew we wouldn’t be late.” But Cal didn’t act like he’d heard me.
We were lucky we lived so close to the governor’s house. The rest of the island traveled across the desert from outer cities to bring their daughters here today. Though they were luckier than those living on one of the other four islands. The fae only selected a queen from here.
“It’s because you are stronger,” my mother had said. “The center island grows strong girls.” She was gone before I was old enough to be chosen, and she never got to see if I was strong enough or not.
She’d been right, though—the girls here were strong. And loud today. The courtyard outside the governor’s house was packed, fig trees shaking as bodies pushed in around them from all sides. Our backs squeezed against the wall.
Rows upon rows of raised seats stretched as far back as my eyes could see, all filled with eager girls and their promise-giving families. Four aisles paved the way to a mounted balcony under the shade of the governor’s building, where the three beings stood in all their untouchable glory.
Everyone adorned themselves in their finest, but none could outshine the fae.
Three fae poised on the balcony—tall, young, and painfully beautiful. One with dark hair that curled at his shoulders, skin pale, and cheekbones high. Eyes that said he had a secret worth dying for. Another had layers of silver fabric hugging her curves, chiseled by a generous hand. Her white hair shimmered as if it had captured the essence of the moon. And the third, he was the most intriguing. A strong jaw, thick brows, black jacket, and a stance that said he owned us all.
How could a mere mortal hope to rule over people such as this? I shivered.
Then there was the peculiar detail the fae never failed to appear with—the masks. Each wore one. It moved as if one with their skin, covering most of the forehead and partway down their cheeks, leaving openings for their eyes and their mouths fully exposed. They’d never been seen without them. If anything, the masks magnified their beauty, tempting us with what might lie underneath.
I reached to squeeze Malcom’s hand, needing an action to let out the excitement bubbling inside me. Wind flittered through the crowd, carrying harsh sand with it, but nothing touched the fae. Not even one hair trembled.
Behind them stood Gaia, the captain’s daughter who was selected last year. She’d changed in such a short time, her skin now glowing and the muddy hair that once struggled to reach her collar now rippling down her chest. She wore a mask, too, one of pure white. Hands folded in front of her as she stared straight ahead, even while her family called her name from below.
Musicians dressed in purple robes played lyres for the fae, who watched politely. They’d practiced all year for this one performance. Tomorrow, they’d begin work again, preparing their piece for next year. Only the best for the fae.
I’d hear them practice on my next island. Their Passion was one of the arts trained on Ruen, along with painters like myself. Perhaps we’d sail across the sea together tomorrow after I Passioned.
When the last flute lowered, the silver fae stepped forward to let her sweet voice captivate us. “The fae realm is honored to visit the five islands once more. You are such a humble land filled with quaint delights, and the girls you offer as our new queens bring us such joy. Our High Queens are most loved in our realm.” She glanced at Gaia, as did the other two fae. I saw the adoration in their eyes. How cold their gazes appeared when placed on us, but how they softened at the sight of their queen beside them, and that one look stilled me.
Imagine, to be adored by the fae.
Long ago, when the five islands were connected by bridges, a general loved the fae so much, they visited him to honor his devotion, and he was able to forge a deal. He himself couldn’t go to their realm, but they needed a queen, and thus the ritual of selecting one lucky girl each year began, starting with that general’s daughter. With the close friendship came the exclusivity that the girl came from our island, and the bridges between the lands were torn down.
“Jealousy burns quicker than fire,” my father would say. “And it burns much hotter.”
The silver fae continued. “We thank you for your previous queen, our marvelous Gaia, who will now be joined by another.”
The history tale always left one thing out—the mysterious reason the fae could hold a mere mortal in such a position of honor above them. And they must have many countries, to need a new queen every year.
The energy in the crowd shifted as she spoke. The fae’s voice, though it had nothing to project it, settled over us with power. “The next Mortal Queen will come to the fae realm to live as one of us in our splendor. Her family will be sent a pension as a sign of our deep gratitude.”
The island was rich. It needed no pension. But Cal caught my eye, and I knew we thought the same thing. Malcom could live on that pension. If I could live among the fae while simultaneously ensuring Malcom’s security . . .
You won’t be chosen. Still your wishful heart.
But my father’s confidence picked at my resolve not to hope. He’d sounded so certain.
Cal gazed past me, and it was easy to guess whom he searched for. Eliza stood several meters away with red-painted lips, rubies glued to her forehead, and delicate diamonds coating her eyelashes in a way that looked angelic. She flashed Cal a hopeful smile.
