Page 45 of Fate of the Sun King

To my horror, everyone in the room slides off their stools and starts dropping to their knees one by one, their hands over their hearts and their heads bowing. There are murmurs of “Majesty” and “Queen,” and I honestly want to melt into the floor. How am I supposed to handle this? What am I going to do if this becomes real?

Nadir squeezes my hand.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “Consider this a warm-up.”

“Are you used to this?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“I grew up this way.” I nod and then face the room.

“Hi,” I say before remembering what Nadir said earlier, quickly adding, “Stand up. Please.”

Everyone rises from their positions, staring at me like I’m a ghost who’s risen from the ashes.

“You can all resume what you were doing,” Etienne says, rescuing me from this increasing awkwardness. “Lor is here to see Rhiannon.”

I shoot a look to Nadir. Who is Rhiannon?

Slowly, everyone turns away, pretending to resume their earlier tasks, but I can feel their surreptitious glances sneaking my way. I suppose I do need to get used to this. This isn’t about me. This is about what I represent. The past and a future they’ve all been cradling in their expectant palms.

Etienne gives me a serious look and then gestures for me to follow. We wind past the tables and chairs to emerge in a sitting area at the far end. A large fireplace dominates the wall, with two armchairs angled towards it. In one sits a High Fae female with dark hair pulled up to the crown of her head. She’s wearing a long red gown, and though she appears as ageless as all High Fae, her presence speaks to something wise and ancient.

She’s knitting, needles flying as she wraps the working strand around her finger, a basket of yarn lying at her feet. When we approach, she looks up, her dark eyes shifting as she takes me in. A rush of breath vacates her lungs in a sharp exhale. Everyone is silent as she puts her knitting aside and slowly stands.

“Is this her?” she asks, looking at Etienne and then back to me.

“This is Lor,” he says, and Rhiannon closes her eyes slowly, her hand pressing to her chest as a stray tear slips down her cheek.

“I still can’t believe it.”

Then she surprises me by stretching her arms and enveloping me in a hug. It takes a moment to notice that she’s shaking. As she looks up at me, I witness a thousand different emotions reflecting across her expression.

“You look just like her,” she says softly, a delicate finger sweeping over my cheek and my eyebrow as if she’s cataloging the pieces of my face to her memory.

“Who are you?” I ask, dying to know. This woman knew my grandmother, and from the look on her face, it was with love and fondness.

“I’m sorry. How rude,” she says, stepping back and wiping her eyes. “Please have a seat.” She gestures to the chair across from her. “Would you be a dear and get us something to drink?” she asks Etienne. He bends at the waist and scurries off. I raise an eyebrow, surprised this grizzled warrior is hopping to her request with such enthusiasm.

Nadir pulls up a chair beside me as Rhiannon briefly studies us both. She doesn’t ask who Nadir is or why he’s here, which must mean she knows something about what we’ve been up to.

“I knew your grandmother,” she says. “We were cousins, and it took me a very long time to come to terms with her loss.”

“Cousins? So we’re related?”

She smiles softly. “Cousins many times removed, so distantly. But yes.”

“How well did you know her?”

“Oh, very.” She smiles. “I know all the things the history books either got wrong or completely missed.”

“Will you tell me about her?” I ask, hardly daring to believe it. I’m having difficulty coming to terms with the fact I’m meeting family outside of my parents and siblings for the first time in my life.

“I’ll tell you everything you want,” she says. “But I would love to hear about your life, too. Where you’ve been and everything that’s happened to bring you here today.”

I nod slowly, checking with Nadir for confirmation. I don’t know these people, and I’m trusting that he’s looking out for my best interests. “It’s okay. Everyone here is on your side. Etienne has been working with them for years.”

I turn back to Rhiannon and allow myself to relax. It’s hard to explain, but a peace settles over me that feels foreign but also as familiar as a warm blanket. Maybe it’s being near Heart. Maybe this is fate’s way of reminding me that this is where I’m supposed to be.

“Okay,” I say, and then I tell her almost everything as she listens patiently, asking me questions here and there, offering her sympathy and surprise. While we’re talking, Etienne returns with a pot of tea and four mugs and pulls up another chair to join us. When I’m done speaking, Rhiannon lets out a charged breath.