Someone, for the love of God, please stop me from talking.
“It is the name she chose for me,” Moth jumps in, giving me a moment to breathe. It’s not a moment too soon because any more intense eye contact from Queen Plume is going to give me an actual heart attack.
“And it is also the name you choose for yourself?”she asks.
“It is.” There’s warmth in his eyes when they meet mine, causing a smile to curl on my lips. A name is something so personal. It’s not like Moth was a creative choice, but I’m glad it feelslike his.
“Then Moth you shall be.” His mother clasps her hands together and nods—with approval or disapproval, I’m not sure. Her matter-of-fact way of speaking moves the conversation forward. With a wave of her hand, the guards are dismissed, and the four of us are left alone.
“Mother, do you not think that is a little on the nose?” Holly protests in a hushed tone. “Surely there is something more regal or—”
“It is not my choice to make.” Queen Plume gives the same easy shrug as Moth, a twinkle gleaming at the corner of her green eyes. “And Ilike it.”
“But—but—but—” Holly stammers, following at her mother’s heels.
They bicker in a way that reminds me a little of my mom and me. I guess complicated mother-daughter relationships extend through every realm. The pair don’t wait for us to head out of the throne room. Moth and I exchange glances, and at his nod, we follow. I need a coffee, a nap, and to check in with Moth before I feel ready for anything more, but we trudge down the ornate pathways of Moth’s former home.
When I started dating a mysterious cryptid, I thought I’d avoid the whole “meet the parent” thing. On my end, at least. Mom is fully obsessed with my gorgeous, 7-foot-tall boyfriend. She’s already planning a wedding and told me she wants her future grandchildren to call her “Glam-ma,” which earned the first of many eye rolls from me over theholidays.
But that was a “bring your boyfriend home for Christmas”kind of thing. With Moth’s family, someone has literally summoned us to a whole other world. Obviously, I want to be supportive, but this is kind of a lot for 2 p.m. ona Sunday.
With the grace of a ballerina, Moth’s mother—Plume, the faerie queen, I’m still trying to grasp what I’m dealing with here—leads the way. I can’t help but notice Moth is stiff and on edge, as if he’s not ready to accept all of this. I can’tblame him.
Everything is moving so fast. In one breath, the queen rattles off bits of history to me. I nod politely but honestly can’t keep up with a thing she’s saying. Suddenly, as if Moth is waking up from a daydream, he inhales a deep breath, glancing around at the tapestries and storybook windows. His ruby eyes widen with shock.
“Am I not to stand trial for my crimes?” he asks, an edge to his voice.
This again.
The hugs and tears should have been a good sign that we are in the clear, but I don’t know their family dynamic. Would it be surprising to have this warm reunion end with a lavish personal tour of the dungeons? Yes. But what hasn’t been surprising about today?
“My darling son.” The queen finally gets the nerve to place her hand on Moth’s shoulder. He visibly stiffens, his eyes widening as if he’s fighting the urge to flee, but he stands strong. “What crimes could you have possibly committed?”
“I remember very little before my banishment,” Moth says quietly, taking a stepbackward.
“Banished?!” Holly shouts, shaking her head. “Is that what you thinkhappened?”
Moth’s eyes glaze over, as blank as an old iPhone the day after the release of a new model. I give his large hands a squeeze as a signal that I’m going to try my best to help navigate this.
“He’s been kinda rolling with the whole bad-guy-banished-to-another realm thing,” I say, andwow,those are not the words I meantto choose.
Queen Plume’s shoulders fall as she leads us farther into the castle.
“Come, let us find some place more comfortable to talk,” Queen Plume says, and her slight smile reminds me of the way Moth looks when he’s hiding something. “I think there’s someone who will be even more pleased tosee you.”
My heart twists. Am I about to be confronted with a former lover? It’s just been the two of us for so long, I’m not sure I’m ready for a romantic rival. My eyes dart to Moth, who is as stiff as ever. I shouldn’t be worried. Heck this is the most stable, healthy relationship I’ve ever been in, but can love and comfort compete with history?
What if, as soon as he sees their face, he’s overcome with a million memories of the greatest love he’s ever known? I gulp, focusing on the clusters of pink flowers that climb the large, rounded columns in the great halls.
Together, I remind myself. Whoever is waiting—we’ll face themtogether.
Moth’s oldbedroom.
If the castle was sunshine and flowers, this room would be the moon. The walls are dark wood, and the ceiling sparkles with painted stars that gleam in the flickering candlelight. But unlike the pristine beauty of the throne room, this room has been destroyed. Dark navy curtains hang in tatters, paintings hang askew, and the space seems robbed of anythingpersonal…
“The magic to track someone through a portal requires a token,” Holly explains, her wings tight against her back. “I apologize for the state of things. I have been searching for a very long time.”
Queen Plume holds a hand to her chest. Could it be the first time she’s been back since Moth disappeared?
