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We were arriving an hour before the Yule Ball. He was no more interested in a longer stay than I was. Eli was subtle about it, but he’d made clear when we were here the first time that he had no desire to assume the throne. Eli liked my world,ourworld. Maybe he wouldn’t always feel that way, but right now, he was opposed to becoming a king.
Luckily, the king was young enough that we weren’t yet at that crossroads.
When we arrived, we were greeted by a contingent of royals and the king himself. I still didn’t know what to call him. The fae were not free with their names. Maiden, lady, lord, or a false name were often used. I knew that.
They, of course, knew my name. I’d given it freely as a sign of trust.
The royals that met us, exactly six lords and six ladies as well as five guards, were spanned out from the king in a formation that would allow weapons. I smiled at that. The thought of training with fae warriors was more tempting than any ball could be.
“Welcome, Geneviève of Crowe.” The king looked at me with an implacable expression.
But I felt the others judge me, eyes lingering on the Renaissance-meets-function dress I wore. Soft blue with silver-shot designs, it was as festive as I ever was.
The king, to his credit, made note of the colors and knew enough about me to say, “We are honored that you would join us during the festival of Chanukah.Chag Urim Sameach.”
I could tell that he’d practiced his words, and it made me feel a little warmer.
“Blessed Yule, andChag Urim Sameach,” I said with a deep curtsey.
And yes, I’d practicedthat.I had never in my life curtsied before, but if I bowed, the faery king and his entourage were going to be staring into my cleavage. That seemed a bit awkward, so curtsey it was.
The king, to his credit, didn’t comment on my willingness to observe protocol. I gave him a genuine smile when I straightened. The ruler ofElphamewas striking and raw in his beauty, more warrior in appearance than nobility. He was draped in a white-fur-lined cloak, and a simple circlet of silver with green gems sat atop his hair. He did not look any older than Eli, but that could mean he was anywhere from forty to four hundred.
There was no queen at his side.
I realized then that he’d never wed. Faeries’ lifelines were bound together, so by staying unwed, the king had not risked dying because his partner did. It said something about his priorities and independence. In this, he and his brother—Eli’s father—were very dissimilar. It was also a thingIunderstood.
Eli offered me his arm, and we walked to the king’s side, and without a word, we walked in a procession from the gateway to an open field. There under the boughs of a beautiful oak tree, the fae king went to his throne. It looked as if the earth herself had crafted the chair.
Beside the throne was a silver menorah. There, in Elphame, the king of the fae motioned me forward.
“I do not find it is my place to say the words you’d need,” he said. “Light your candles, and know that you are welcome here, Geneviève of Crowe.”
I whispered my prayers, and I lit the candles.
Then, the king walked to that stone and wood throne.
Eli took my hand. He led me to the exact center of the field, knelt to remove my shoes and whispered, “I would offer you everything I possess in both worlds if you were here willingly.”
When he stood, I sighed and slid my hand into his as we prepared to dance. “I am willing, Eli, more so than is good for either of us.”
Maybe it was the amount of Eli’s blood that still rolling through my veins, or maybe it was the holiday. Or perhaps, despite every ounce of willpower, the act of dating this man had been wearing down my defenses. I still was not going to doom him by marrying him, but more and more I was wishing I could.
We danced, feet bare on the earth, and when the first song ended, the field filled with fae couples. Fireflies and stars lit the night, and candles and bonfires burned. There was peace here, among the people of the wood and air. There was acceptance here, more than I allowed myself.
And when the king greeted the dawn’s light with a deep bow to me, I barely flinched.
“I present to you Geneviève of Crowe. Betrothed of my nephew. Born of magic. Giver of life and death. Future queen ofElphame.”
The faeries bowed, curtsied, or knelt. Swords and gowns were brought before me. I winced at the whole thing, but on the outside, I smiled and replied, “It is an honor to be made welcome by the people of earth and air.”
It was not an acceptance, but it was more than I thought I’d be able to muster. Eli kissed me soundly, and for a flicker of a moment, I let myself imagine a future here with him. Nature unbound. Acceptance. Love. There was much to treasure.
But I was not made for ruling. I was a warrior first, a creature that summoned the dead, and a woman utterly unsuited to motherhood. No amount of wishing would change that. My womb would not create life, not even for Eli.
The following afternoon,I was sleeping outside on a mossy hill with Eli beside me. Well, half under me. I was held against his side, my head resting on his chest, and we were both pillowed by thick moss.
He may not have napped; I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that we needed to address matters.
