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“Deep questions,” I say, going up on one elbow to look down at her.
“If you don’t want to answer.” She shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal.
But I like talking to her.
“I don’t mind answering your curiosities. It’s dinnertime, though, so let’s eat while we talk.”
With some creative bending of distance and a magical flourish, I’m able to grab food from the kitchen, wrap Nyssa in a robe, and seat her at the dining table in my suite. She looks absolutely wrecked—probably a bit from the way I just moved her about in a whirlwind of power, but I think mostly from the force of our orgasms.
Hell, mine triggered an earthquake.
“Eat,” I say, gesturing to the food. Some sort of meat and vegetable pie Rhynda created. “You wanted to know what happens to Dark Fae when we die?”
Nyssa picks at the crust and nibbles on it. “And… well, how can you die? I thought you’re immortal.”
“It’s incredibly difficult to kill us, but a strike of iron to the heart or brain will do the job efficiently.” I can’t believe I just told her that… the one way guaranteed to kill me, and Nyssa being a murderess. “As for what happens when a fae dies, it depends on who’s in power. When Kymaris ruled, she sent all souls directly to the river or twisted them into demons for her personal use. I choose to pass judgment case by case.”
“You reincarnate Dark Fae souls?” she asks, surprise on her face.
“No, our banishment from Heaven into the Underworld was meant to be eternal. Reincarnation is not a luxury afforded to the Dark or Light Fae. But I can choose to spare a soul and not send it into the Crimson River.”
“Where does the soul go, then?”
“I unmake it. And that’s what I did for Mertuk’s daughter.”
“Unmake it?”
“Her soul is simply no more.”
Nyssa’s face screws up slightly as if the idea is distasteful, but then she says, “That sounds awful, but it must have been a great comfort to him.”
“I’d like to think so.”
Silence ensues while we eat, but I can tell the questions are not done. She’s prioritizing.
“Did Mertuk love his daughter?”
I frown at her, trading my fork for my wine goblet. “Of course.”
“So, fae can love?”
“Yes, fae can love. Why would you think we can’t?”
Nyssa shakes her head and becomes engrossed in her pie. “Never mind.”
I reach out and grab her hand that has her fork lifted halfway to her mouth. “Why would you think that?” I repeat, and my tone lets her know I expect an answer.
Sighing, Nyssa tugs free and drops her fork to her plate. “It’s just something Truett said. He said you don’t have marriage here and you aren’t monogamous. I assumed it was because everyone is evil and thus there’s no capacity to love.”
“Interesting,” I muse, although it’s a logical conclusion.
“How come you rule differently from Kymaris?” She looks me right in the eye, and I blink in surprise. She’s like a journalist peppering a politician with all the hard questions.
I think about it a moment, take another sip of my wine. “I guess I’m just not as hard-hearted as she was.”
Nyssa’s gaze drops to her plate. “Truett said when Zora was a human, you cared for her.” I grit my teeth and make a mental note to knock Truett’s teeth out of his blabbing mouth. Eyes still downcast, she adds, “He said it was a complicated relationship. But if you don’t have monogamy, how were you even in a relationship?”
I don’t answer, waiting for her to find the courage to look at me first. As the seconds tick by and the silence grows heavier, Nyssa finally forces her gaze up to meet mine.
