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“Ah, yes. A gift.” He smiled, dark and sinister. “I offer you an army of Unseelie, the likes of which the world has never seen before. Take it, and purge the mortal lands. Expand our territory. Let the mortals know who was born to live in shadow, and who was born to rule.”
The room went silent. No one had dared suggest such a thing before. Faeries needed mortals; needed them to fill their ranks, to wet nurse their children, to create the kind of art that only mortality could inspire. Their mages liked them, too. Mortal’s dreams and wishes and tears could be used in all kinds of spells… even their hearts, Juliana would learn later, although such practises were usually outlawed.
Faeries bargained with mortals for their skills and services, offering them magic, riches, extended lifespans.
No one had ever suggested justtakingthese things before. Or if they had… they had been cast out of history.
“We will not invade the mortal lands,” the Queen said stonily, as the silence gave way to whispers. “We have peace here in Faerie. We have no need of a war.”
“You have the peace of a graveyard,” Ladrien warned. “The mortals will turn on you. They will outnumber you. And they will destroy you.”
More terrified murmurs echoed throughout the room.
“Have you some gift of foresight, King Ladrien? My soothsayers have foreseen no such thing.”
King Ladrien growled. “Not yet,” he said darkly. “But they will.”
“Be that as it may, I will not risk the safety of my people on a gamble.”
“Then you refuse my gift?”
“Regretfully, King Ladrien, we must.”
“Very well.” Ladrien turned instead to the child in its cradle, a tiny, shrivelled thing, pointy-eared with tufts of dark hair. Innocent for the first and only time in his life. “Then I offer this instead: a gift to all Faerie. When the prince comes of age, at the first drop of blood he spills from his body, I will bring my army to this kingdom. Not a faerie shall be harmed, for all shall fall into a deep, dark sleep. For one hundred years will you rest, and after, awaken to a new world, a paradise for all faerie kind. There, I shall rule as king, with both Seelie and Unseelie as my subjects, and mortals shall be slaves to us all.”
At the utterance of his words, wind tore through the hall, the vines themselves shirking against the walls. Dark whispers whistled beneath.
“Your counter-curse,” the Queen declared, face still white with shock. “No curse is complete without one.”
“Ah, quite right. Young prince, I offer you this escape: if your chosen fae bride offers a kiss to your sleeping form, you shall awaken immediately, and I shall withdraw my armies and surrender myself to your judgement.”
“Well, that’s easy—“ cried a courtier, somewhat foolishly, “We’ll just—”
“All fae will fall victim to my sleeping curse,” Ladrien interrupted. “None shall be free from it. And who in all of Faerie would ever agree to marry this cursed prince?”
“No!” said the Queen, rising from her seat. “You shall not take my child, or my kingdom. Guards—seize him!”
Ladrien smiled. “The curse is already cast.”
That didn’t seem to matter. Immediately, the guards sprang into action, a cacophony of steel. But when their blades rose to meet the monster, he vanished into smoke.
Shadows sprung from where he stood, demonic creatures that scuttled like spiders.
They went straight for baby Hawthorn’s crib.
The Queen screamed, racing towards him, dragging roots from the floor to bar their passage.
Juliana’s mother, Cerridwen, got there first, her own child in one arm, a sword in the other. She cut the first creature in two, giving the Queen time to pick up the wailing infant.
“Come, Your Majesty!”
And yet the Queen did not move. She stood in the centre of the room, vines limp around her, holding the screaming child.
“Your Majesty!”
Finally, the Queen moved. Cerridwen cleared a passage to the back of the room, where Queen Maytree opened a vine-covered door and rushed inside, together with a few of her handmaids. While Cerridwen fought monsters, Juliana was thrust into the Queen’s arms.
“Guard her, Your Majesty, so that I may guard you!” Cerridwen begged, shutting the door tightly behind her.
