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“The High Sidhe—the fairies of the most ancient and powerful bloodlines—are the highest rank,” Bran explained.

“Except for the royals—the Fae Elite,” Lachlan pointed out. “They’re the very top tier.”

“Yes, of course.” Bran shrugged. “It’s just that there are so few of them. Queen Elia and King Tyr rule the Summer Court and the nobles—the High Sidhe—are under them. Below them are the more common fairies, such as pixies and brownies and elves.” He shrugged. “Creatures with some power but not as much, because their lineage isn’t as pure or as ancient.”

“What about the Unseelie Court?” I asked. “Who rules that?”

“That would be Queen Mab,” Lachlan said grimly. “And she’s one you’ll want to stay away from if you ever come to the Realm, little one.”

“Really? Why?” I asked, wide-eyed.

“Aside from the fact that the Dark Lands aren’t a safe place for a female alone—especially one so obviously of High Sidhe descent,” Bran said, “You’d also want to watch out for Mab herself.”

“She is known for her temper and her love of torture,” Lachlan said flatly. “Also, she wouldn’t like the look of you—she likes to be the fairest in the land, you know.”

“What—like the evil stepmother in Snow White?” I asked, almost laughing.

But Bran nodded seriously.

“Don’t scoff. Many of your human ‘fairytales’ have a basis in reality. “It is said that Mab once had a daughter who grew more beautiful than her by far. She ordered the girl killed but she got away—into the Seelie side of the forest.”

“Where, of course, she met the Prince— the son of Queen Elia and King Tyr,” Lachlan went on. “Naturally, they fell in love at once.” He made a face. “Because that is how Fate likes to toy with us.”

“I take it that was bad?” I asked. “I mean, the parents didn’t approve?”

“Didn’t approve?” Bran said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement.”

“Bringing home a denizen of the ‘Dark Lands’—no matter how captivating they may be—is like bringing home a cockroach or a rat and declaring you intend to marry or befriend it.” Lachlan’s green eyes flashed and I saw pain in them once more. “Isn’t that right, Bran?”

“Well…” Bran shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,” he admitted at last. “That’s about right. Or that’s how some people see it—not me, though,” he added, frowning. He looked at Lachlan. “I know I didn’t tell you goodbye when my family fled, but you were the one who ended our friendship—well before that.”

Lachlan looked away, his green eyes burning.

“I had my reasons. I came when you called, didn’t I? I paid the debt I owed.”

“I hope it was our friendship more than the debt that called you back, old friend,” Bran said gently. “You know I’ve never held your birth against you.”

“No,” Lachlan agreed. “But you’re the only one who hasn’t. Even I despise my lineage—such as it is.”

Bran cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.

“I think we got off track, talking about the rulers of the Realm,” he said.

“What did happen to the prince and princess?” I asked, tactfully trying to change the subject away from what was obviously a touchy topic. Though honestly, I was dying to hear more about the two friends’ history. “Not that I don’t want to hear your story, you guys, but I’m curious,” I added.

“Nobody knows what happened to the UnSeelie princess,” Lachlan said. “Some say she died of grief when the Prince presented her at the Summer Court and Queen Elia and King Tyr rejected her.”

“Some say she died in childbirth,” Bran countered. “And that the Prince went into hiding afterwards.”

“And some say the two of them ran away into the human world and were never seen or heard from in the Realm again,” Lachlan finished. “Rumors are cheap. The main point is that neither the Prince of the Summer Court or the Princess of the Winter Court were ever seen or heard from again.”

“Is it really that easy for Fae to leave the Fae Realm and just hide out somewhere?” I asked.

Bran shrugged. “It’s what my family was doing.” He looked sad for a moment. “My father angered Queen Elia and she stripped him of his rank and put out an order for his arrest.”

“Wow—what did he do to make her so angry?” I asked, wide-eyed.

“I’d like to know that too,” Lachlan drawled. “All I heard was that you all ran—not the reason why.”

Bran frowned.

“It’s…complicated. As you know, my father was an advisor to the Queen—her most trusted one, in fact. He had her ear and felt like he could speak freely to her about anything.”

“Apparently not, though,” Lachlan murmured. “What did he say that riled her up so much?”

“He simply pointed out that since the Prince had left so many years ago, she had no heir. So if something was to happen to her or King Tyr…” Bran coughed as though this was an extremely impolite subject to be speaking about it.

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