An image flitted through my mind—Sophie and Jael. I wondered if they would’ve had children together. Beautiful, magical babies with her gorgeous red hair and Jael’s penetrating yellow eyes…
“Humans had always been enamored of the fae,” Deirdre said, pulling me back to the present. “And a bit intimidated by these beautiful, otherworldly beings who’d kept themselves largely apart for so many years. When the fae rulers brought the proposal to the covens, the witches, who were quite open-minded and keen to further the protection and stewardship of all forms of magic, saw it as a great honor. And so the mating rituals began, but no children were born. Years passed, and still, not a single heir, though not for lack of trying.”
At this, Deirdre smiled, lost in the story. I felt my own lips twitching into a smile; fae were rumored to be extremely passionate lovers.
“According to the old tales,” Deirdre said, “a young fae prince had a prophetic dream about a witch who was recently born in the mortal realm to one of the first witches, with violet eyes and silver-white hair. In the dream, her mother allowed him to hold the child, and the moment he gazed upon her face, he fell in love with her. When he woke up that morning, he told his court of the dream and declared his intent to marry her, sending his emissaries to scour the mortal realm for the child who matched the description. She was found in Ireland, and her family was presented with the prince’s proposal, along with the promise of more wealth than they could ever imagine.
“The family saw this as a high honor, and accepted the proposal, on the condition that they be allowed to raise their daughter Finnabair and keep her at home until she reached the age of twenty. The prince agreed, and the wedding date was set.
“But the prince, who dreamed of her nightly, grew impatient. When the child was only four years old, he sent his emissaries to her home to request that she be released into his care immediately, vowing to raise her himself until she came of age, at which time they would marry as planned. Horrified at the thought of losing their precious daughter sixteen years sooner than they’d agreed, her parents outright refused.” Deirdre’s eyes misted. “The emissaries slaughtered her parents and siblings, kidnapping the girl to the fae realm and presenting her to the prince anyway.”
Deirdre paused to sip her tea. Next to me, I felt Addie curling inward, her shoulders hunching. After everything she’d just been through, I wasn’t surprised the story was upsetting her.
“Addie, do you want to get some air?” I asked softly, squeezing her hand. “We could take a walk.”
My sister shook her head. “I want to hear how this ends.”
“I’m sorry to upset you,” Deirdre said kindly, “but know that this particular story has a happy ending—at least for Finnabair. You see, she was a clever child, and though the prince had treated her kindly, and sworn his love and loyalty until the end of time, she still remembered her homeland, and what had been done to her family on his orders. Biding her time, she waited until midnight the night before her twentieth birthday—what was to be her wedding day—and made her escape, knowing it would cause the prince the most pain to lose her so close to the moment she was set to become his for eternity.”
“Fucking badass,” Addie said, and we all laughed, breaking up the tension a bit.
“Oh, but the story doesn’t end there,” Deirdre said. “The prince did not take her departure lightly. The moment news reached his ear that his bride-to-be had run away, he called in a favor to an allied court in the north, rumored to have the most powerful and destructive army in the realms. The ally sent him four elite fae warriors, and the prince sent them to hunt Finnabair down. He wanted her executed on site, and as proof that they’d completed their duty, they were to return with her long silver braids as both a trophy and a lesson to anyone who might think to betray the prince in the future.”
“So much for his so-called love and loyalty,” I said. “Asshole.”
“Though the prince claimed issuing such an order broke his heart,” Deirdre said, “he could no longer trust her, and could not allow such a betrayal to go unpunished, for to do so would be a sign of weakness, and his rule would most certainly be challenged.”
I rolled my eyes. It always came down to the same thing with these guys—power. They spent their whole lives coveting it, and once they got a taste of it, they spent the rest of their lives trying to hold on to it before the next upstart got his claws in. It was a vicious cycle with no end and no winners.
Beyond that, something else about the story was making me uneasy, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. A question struggled to form from the mist of my mind, but no matter how hard I tried to focus, it wouldn’t coalesce.
“The soldiers tracked her down in a matter of days,” Deirdre went on, “for though she was clever, and very much at home in the forests of fae she’d essentially grown up in, she did not know how to get back to the mortal realm. But despite their training and the prince’s orders, none of them could bring himself to execute her. They continued to send dispatches back to the prince that they’d yet to locate her, hoping they could buy themselves enough time to figure out what to do, but they were running out of options. Eventually, Finnabair cut off her own hair, soaked it in animal blood, and had the men send it to the prince, declaring they’d done their duty—that she was well and truly dead and buried. But the prince knew this was another trick, and demanded the soldiers return to him immediately. If they refused, he would consider it an act of war from the allied court—the soldiers’ homeland—which would leave him no choice but to retaliate.”
“Please tell me they told him to fuck off,” Addie said.
“Essentially, that’s exactly what they did. The soldiers had fallen in love with Finnabair. They refused to turn her over to such a cruel fate.”
“So wait—all four of them fell for her?” Haley asked.
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Haley nudged me in the ribs, laughing. “Where have we heard this story before?”
“What happened next?” I asked, ignoring Haley’s teasing.
“The prince followed through on his threats, and a long, bloody war ensued. There are differing accounts as to how it turned out, but one outcome was certain: the allied court was completely ostracized. They were branded as traitors, their reputation destroyed along with most of their lands and a good deal of their people. Despite the skill of their armies, they could not defend against the prince and the other allies he’d rallied against them.”
“I thought you said this story had a happy ending?” Addie said.
“For Finnabair, yes.” At this, Deirdre smiled. “Ironically, the union of the warrior fae and the silver-haired witch was the first of its kind to create a child. From their love, a new bloodline was born.”
“Silversbane,” Haley whispered, and a shiver rolled through my body. Silence floated between us, and I closed my eyes, walking backward through Deirdre’s story, back to the start. I’d been so caught up in Finnabair’s tale, I’d forgotten why we’d started talking about it in the first place.
And now that I was thinking about it more clearly, the nagging question I’d been chasing finally reared it’s big, ugly head.
I opened my eyes, meeting Deirdre’s across the table.
“Which court?” I asked, my voice low, my jaw tight. Deep inside, where magic and intuition lived, I feared I already knew the answer, but I had to ask anyway.
