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Garrick, stoic and quiet, waited before tailing me. Though I’d frequently felt his eyes on me throughout our ride into Northelm, he’d hardly spoken a word to Aspen or me the entiretime. He didn’t seem to be under Preston and Nerissa’s control, but I wasn’t naïve enough to assume they hadn’t tasked him with strict orders.
We tied our horses outside an unassuming shop halfway down the road. A welcoming plume of smoke curled forth from its chimney, and in windows reflecting the glow of warm candlelight, mannequins displayed fabrics ranging from thick and practical to sheer and scandalous. When Aspen shifted into her high fae size and tugged open the door, a bell chimed merrily.
Garrick’s presence was solid and reassuring behind me, though as I stepped inside the shop, I studiously avoided glancing back at him. I hated to see the distant, hopeless look in his eyes. The way he saw himself as an enemy, a threat to Aspen’s and my cause, because of the pawn Nerissa and Preston had turned him into.
“Welcome!” called a clear voice, as bright and musical as the ring of the bell. It took a moment for me to identify its source—the shop was full of crowded racks and shelves, full of everything from completed outfits to mannequins clothed in half-finished attire decorated with the pins holding them in place, to swaths of richly colored fabric. At last, I spied a counter in one corner, where a plump fae woman with sparkling eyes as vivid as amber and pale blue skin was cutting and sorting through piles of fabrics. When she set down her scissors to wade past the shelves and racks to approach us, I realized there were twigs and leaves in her dark curls, and they didn’t appear to be decorative. They seemed to be a part of her, growing from her scalp as surely as her hair was. “Oh, Aspen, it’s good to see you.” Her eyes darted to me, her mouth forming a smallOof surprise before she dipped into a pretty curtsey, her whimsical patchwork skirt drawing my eye.
“It’s good to see you too, Juniper. We need to purchase material suitable for Her Majesty’s ballgown for the upcoming celebration,” Aspen said.
Juniper’s eyes widened eagerly, and she ushered Aspen and me forward, talking quickly as she guided her to her counter and started displaying various fabrics for her. Meanwhile, Garrick stationed himself near the door, arms crossed and face as expressionless as if he were a guard stationed at the castle.
The sight of so many fabrics, threads, ribbons, and other sewing necessities filled my heart with a sense of joy and familiarity. After a little while, I excused myself from the counter and left Aspen and Juniper to chat alone so I could wander among the shelves. I brushed my fingers along different swatches of fabric to test every texture and admired the numerous different colors and patterns. As I scanned the shop, I allowed myself to imagine a future in which we succeeded. In which Preston and Nerissa abdicated the throne and I was free, able to pursue what I wanted. Able to dream again. I didn’t fool myself into thinking my new life would be easy—I had no idea how to run a kingdom, and I knew many fae would remain opposed to me as queen. But in that moment, I could envision a world in which I was able to sew to my heart’s content without fear of being controlled or threatened. In which I could create a haven out of the castle I now so abhorred, and slowly assemble a court I trusted. One that I hoped included Garrick and Aspen.
A flash of glistening silver against velvety black caught my eye as I strolled past one of the shelves. I paused, lifting the fabric to watch it shift and shimmer in the light from a nearby candelabra. Traces of blues in varying shades flashed in the material as I moved it. It was like a beautiful night sky adorned in stars. It was perfect.
Preparing to gather the roll of fabric and take it to Juniper’s counter, I paused when I heard voices nearby. I lifted my head,noticing two figures a few shelves over muttering together. The shop was so large I hadn’t realized there were other customers present.
One of the forms sauntered in my direction, and when he lifted his head, revealing a scarred face and sharp green eyes, nerves stirred in my stomach. I moved to walk away, but unfortunately, fae were impossibly fast, and I hadn’t made it out of my aisle before he turned into it. “What a pleasure to run into you,Your Majesty,” he said, his tone mocking.
I straightened warily. There was no deference in his posture, nothing but hostility. “What do you want?”
He was in front of me in a blink, making my blood run cold. He was too fast. Too muscular. His hulking form dwarfed me, making me wonder if his high fae blood was mixed with that of a troll or giant. He was powerful, and my magic—when I reached for it—was still an echo of what it should have been.
“I want to see you put in your place,” he snarled, hot breath washing over my face as he leered at me. “A lowly human has no place near the throne or married to a fae king. No matter your blood. And wedon’tneed you alive to use your blood.”
“Actually, you do,” I retorted. “Even if someone else can use my blood to close the entrance, once I’m dead, there won’t be anyone else to continue to seal it for the years to come. Why would you doom your kingd—”
A meaty hand latched around my neck, squeezing. I choked in vain for air, my hands beating against his to no effect. My mind scrambled to concentrate and wield my magic, but after a breakfast laced with forget-me-nots, trying to grasp for my power seemed more like reaching for single grains of sand.
“Pity for you that you’re all alone,” he taunted.
Dark spots danced across my vision. I couldn’t even think straight anymore, let alone try to conjure my magic.
The man laughed cruelly. “What can your guard dog do now?” His fingers dug into my throat, trying to crush my windpipe.
A low voice rumbled behind him. “Kill you.”
I hadn’t even heard Garrick approaching—hadn’t noticed him sneak up behind the man. Not until he sidestepped him and seized the brute by the neck. Even though the stranger towered over him, Garrick’s motions were effortless. His pupils were blown wide in his gold eyes, dilated so much he looked more wolf than man.
The man released me to reach for a dagger strapped to his waist, and I stumbled back, clutching my aching throat and gulping down stinging lungfuls of air. He didn’t have time to even unsheathe his weapon before Garrick’s wrist twisted. There was a sickening crunch, and I turned away as my attacker’s neck snapped, his bulky form crashing to the floor.
Tears stinging my eyes, I scanned the shop, but the brute’s companion was nowhere to be seen. Garrick was in front of me in a moment, the wolfish bloodlust in his eyes melting into concern. He grasped my chin with the same scarred hand he’d used to kill only a second ago, but this time his touch was impossibly tender as he tilted my face upward and inspected my throat.You can’t touch me,I thought feebly, but I wasn’t sure I could form the words. Maybe Preston and Nerissa would forgive him like they had last night, since he was only protecting me, just like they’d ordered him to.
Garrick hissed a curse at the sight of the bruises I imagined were forming on my skin. “Don’t speak,” he said. “I’m going to talk to Juniper.”
Gently grasping my arm, Garrick led me past the rows of shelves and mannequins to the counter, where Aspen and Juniper froze mid-conversation at the sight of me.
“What happened?” Aspen demanded, rushing to my side and clutching my free hand as her eyes roved over my neck.
“A bloody man attacked her, right here in your store,” Garrick growled, his eyes snapping to Juniper.
Juniper blinked in horror before collecting herself. “Is he still here?”
“I disposed of him, but you’ll want to clean up the body,” Garrick said coldly.
Juniper nodded sharply, as if she’d expected no less. “I’m closing the shop immediately.” She glanced at me. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I never would have imagined anyone would be so bold as to harm you here in public, in the middle of my own shop.” She lowered her voice. “Aspen told me of your other plans while you’re in Northelm. I will lead you to the infirmary myself, and ensure a healer sees to you immediately.”
As she scurried off to check that her shop was empty of other customers, blow out candles, turn her sign, and bolt the door, Aspen squeezed my hand reassuringly. “She’s a fellow rebel and integral to our movement,” she whispered. “You can trust her, despite what happened here. I’m so sorry.” She glanced toward Garrick. “Remember, stay out of the way. The rebels don’t fully trust you.”
