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“Our goddesses. Three sisters who grew Faerie and watched after the kingdom for centuries until my grandmother—Rosemarie—became the first faerie queen. Then they just sort of… disappeared.”
This only causes the furrow in her brow to deepen. I can almost see her mind working as she tries to puzzle out the mystery of Faerie and its inhabitants. She won’t, though. It’s been over a millennium, and not even my own people have discovered why the Sovereign Sisters founded Faerie or whether Rosemarie Thaelon was birthed by one of them or was simply a product of their all-powerful magic.
“Anyway,” I say tightly. “I never knew the primroses had any meaning beyond that.”
“Everything has meaning, even the smallest of things.”
“You sound wise beyond your years, little witch.”
Her silver eyes brighten in mischief and challenge. “What would you do if I thought of a pet name you hated and called you it incessantly?”
“Nothing because you wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I dare, grandsire.”
Involuntarily, I cough out a laugh. “Did you just call me grandsire?”
“Sure did.” Her grin is momentary—there one second, gone the next—as she smooths a hand over her hound’s head, fingers toying with his pointy ears. She casts a look around us and swallows. “So to enter the Fae Isles I just… step through like Arkyn did?”
“Yes, but—”
She darts under the arch before I can finish.
Chapter 7
GWYN
The Fae Isles are breathtaking.
The landscape is painted in the soft, dark greens and browns of the forests and rolling fields, the bright blues of the cliffside waterfalls and rivers, interspersed with crisp, glittering white bridges and cozy, flower-laden cottages.
Not a glimpse of the blight, though.
Riven catches me by the wrist, his fingers circling it entirely. “I don’t take kindly to being ignored.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you,” I tell him. “I was just feeling a little… uneasy out in the open.”
He’s studying me again, watching me for Dagny knows what, and releases me. “I understand. I’ll ensure the wards are in place within the hour.”
“Thank you,” I say. Wards will make me feel much safer in his kingdom. “What were you going to say? Before?”
“Nothing.”
I sigh. “Riven, if there’s something I need to know—”
“There isn’t.”
My hands find my hips. “Then what were you going to say?”
“I was going to warn you that we should stick together until we arrive at the palace.”
“How come?”
“You’ll see” is all he says.
He portals us just outside a sprawling city, straight to the mouth of a stone bridge at least a mile in length, much to the shocked gasps of the fae bustling about with baskets full of various goods.
My stomach sinks, and sweat drips down my spine.
