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Serena glided backwards, pushing through the water. “No one knows. Some say she flung herself from the cliffs to join her beloved in death, others that she flayed the knight alive before vanishing from Faerie. Some say her love was so strong that she became an oilliphéist herself, and swam away, never to return.” She paused in the story, gaze drifting out the thin, blue horizon. “They say you can still hear her voice during the storm, begging them to stop.”
Hawthorn’s skin prickled. “Slightly morbid.”
“I think it’s beautiful—a love so strong it shaped the world.”
“I still prefer happy endings,” he said, stopping short of pouting. “Also, I find myself famished. Shall we return to the shore?”
Another feast was arranged for the evening; fried scallops, seaweed bread, oysters on golden plates, pastries stuffed with crabs, buttery haddock stews—all accompanied by fine music and bards that spoke of storms and monsters, lost loves and sun-kissed shores.
Juliana was decked out in another gown, a diaphanous, lavender creation that made her look soft and lovely. He was surprised no one had told her it was unfair to look like that next to Princess Serena. She was, of course, quite lovely too—amber wrapped in silk. But she didn’t have that strange, steely fire in her that Juliana possessed.
She’s pretty enough to pass for fae,her father had said of her once.
She was more than pretty now. Her beauty was as deadly as her skill with a knife.
When the dancing began, he was careful to give her a wide berth, dancing the first three with Serena and then excusing himself for refreshment. When he returned, Serena had vanished.
He couldn’t see Jules anywhere, either.
Curious, he stopped a passing servant and asked her if she’d seen either. She pointed to a nearby alcove, a small silver enclosure stuffed with purple cushions. Serena and Juliana were reclined inside it, eating tiny slices of sugared fruit.
They did not appear to have noticed him.
“So tell me,” Serena asked, topping up Juliana’s goblet. “What kind of person is he, really?”
Hawthorn paused. He knew he should walk away or announce his presence, but it occurred to him that this might be a good opportunity to learn what kind of personSerenawas—who she was when she wasn’t with him. He didn’t want another Lucinda.
And, if he was honest, he was curious how Juliana would answer.
To begin with, she didn’t. She stared at Serena with her mouth open, like she was working out some complicated problem.
“You must think me foolish,” Serena continued. “What does it matter who he is, correct? If he is Prince of Faerie? Who would not give anything to be queen?”
Juliana was quiet again, staring at the bottom of her glass.
Speak,he begged her.Please.
“Us mortals have a saying,” she said finally. “‘We’re only human.’There seems to be no Faerie equivalent, but it’s meant to say that we are capable of feeling, that we’remeantto. I do not think you foolish. I think you are a creature capable of worry. And I understand why. The prince has a reputation. In his youth he was prone to cruelty.”
Hawthorn’s stomach dropped, a dozen hateful memories rushing back to haunt him, a hundred things he wished he’d done differently.
Especially with her.
“But he isn’t that person anymore.”
His heart lifted, ears hanging onto her every word.
“He can be insufferable, but he isn’t unkind. He can be very thoughtful at times, though he tries to hide it. He has many redeemable qualities. I am not sure if he will ‘honour’ you, but… but the possibility is there.”
Serena nodded, and Hawthorn, hearing all he needed to, silently slunk away.
Juliana found him on the balcony a short while later, staring out at the dark, ink-blue sea. The stars here seemed sharper than in the capital, the nebulous spray glittering in the quiet depths, like a mirror of diamonds.
“Did you mean what you told Serena?” he asked. “I overheard; don’t be cross.”
Juliana paused, her fingers brushing against the balustrade. She did not meet his eyes. “I did.”
“You think I should marry her, don’t you?”
