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The fae did not lie.
But if he wasn’t lying, if we weren’t separating . . .
I opened my mouth but none of my questions came out. Instead, I made a garbled noise and tried to turn around. I needed time to think.
Eli caught my hand and held fast. “Uncle, may I present my wife. Geneviève of Stonecroft, née Crowe.”
I shook my head. “You said . . . we said . . .how? We were so careful!”
Who doesn’t notice getting married? I should’ve known. It should’ve felt different. Right? I stared at them both, feeling awkward and wrong. How could I not notice the moment Eli and I—
“Welcome, your highness.” Fergus gave what I thought was a genuine smile. “My nephew has chosen wisely. A warrior. A woman who has ties to many creatures, not merely humans.”
I still couldn’t speak coherently. I nodded. For goodness sake! I nodded at the king as if he was asking questions.
Eli squeezed my hand. “You asked what I need, Geneviève. Patience. Give me your patience, Geneviève.”
“Patience,” I echoed. Everything had shifted under my feet. What was there to be patient about? It was here. Now. Changed. I wanted to marry him. Why did I feel so odd? It wasn’t regret. It was . . . as if all of my emotions were on fire. That didn’t make sense, though.
Eli stayed there, kneeling. “Geneviève.?”
“The adjustment will take at least a few days, Niece. You’ll feel peculiar as it is happening.” The king gave me a small smile. “But afterward, once you are . . . able . . . you can resume your world.”
“What does that even mean?” I glared at both of them. “We were careful. No intercourse. No accidental—”
“Sex is not a singular act.” King Fergus sighed. “I thought a witch would be more alert than an average human. Sex is not merely that which results in conception. You held true love in your heart, Geneviève, when you were in the pleasure state with my nephew. In that moment, you both felt pure love. You both accepted this bond.Choseit.”
“Sex . . . is . . . we . . .” I glanced away.
Then I remembered the moment, the chimes that I swore I heard. We’d been on his desk. We’d agreed that it was . . . I looked at Eli. “It was ‘all making love.’ That’s what you said.”
Eli knew exactly what I meant. He nodded. “I was caught up in the moment, not trying to trap you. Geneviève . . .”
“You both felt it, Niece. The laws are clear, and you were warned.” Fergus shrugged. “The timeline was not what you chose, but these are the ways of things. You are the wife to Eli, and he the husband to you. Soon, your body will adjust to this change, as will his. We ought to be grateful you learned this before the change began.”
“Oh.”
Fergus patted my shoulder in what might have been affection—or possibly sympathy— and then kissed both of my cheeks. “Many years ago, my mother swore Death Herself would ascend this throne. I have not walked where I might meet a wife, have not opened my bed to any but concubines, for fear that I would wed Death. . . that I would leave this burden of this crown to my young nephew.” He glanced at Eli. “I wanted to protect myself, so this weight would not pass to you before you were ready.”
Eli and I both stared at the king. In a rough voice, Eli said, “Your sacrifice was great.”
Fergus shook his head. “Prophecy is a tricky thing, is it not? I worried when you went over there . . . thinking that I would have to embrace my death and force you home or find a woman willing to love me, and thereby sentence both of us to death.”
And I felt a flash of sympathy for my uncle, who had—
I startled visibly.
Uncle? My uncle?Fergus was Eli’s uncle. Notmine.
“You are fortunate to be here inElphamewhile the process happens, Geneviève. It will be easier on our home soil.” Fergus hugged me and whispered, “So mote it be.”
He hugged Eli next. “Child of my line. Son of my heart.”
Then as I stared at him, Fergus made a gesture, and people swarmed into the clearing. “Attend your future king and queen as theybecome.”
The swarm of faeries bodily lifted us and carried us to Eli’s home here. The whole process felt remarkablyother—which was saying something. It took a lot to weird out a New Orleanian, a Jewish witch, a half-draugr.But this did it.
I was held aloft by fae hands as they carried our bodies over the soil ofElphame.
