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“A whole lot of nonsense,” I muttered under my breath, swirling the aural in my glass.
No one could hear me. I was far enough away that even the predatory sense of hearing bestowed upon the fae could not detect my words. Even so, Arthur glanced in my direction, if only for a moment.
“They have braved the Spit between our two kingdoms, crossed the Split Sea, to bring us news of the terrestrial heir,” he continued, voice thundering.
Had he charged someone with amplifying the sound? Carrying it on the breeze so it echoed among the goldstone pillars? I flicked my gaze to Parys, my brother’s closest friend and sometime lover. He appeared to be chewing on a bit of candied pear, but…
My eyes narrowed on the pulsing vein above his temple. He was holding his concentration, even as he tried to appear casual. Even from a distance, I could see the gold glow in his warm brown eyes. Parys adored Arthur—as a friend and a lover. I could have snorted—if I was not a delicate, lovely princess on display. The two of them had surely planned this, to make Arthur even more impressive to the delegation.
As if that was necessary.
We were all stuck with this arrangement, this Offering of brides and grooms, by the blessing and curse of the Ancestors. It was the cost of peace. Though my brother described it a bit more eloquently.
“Once every generation, our two fae kingdoms come together in the Offering to renew our promises of peace and prosperity once more,” Arthur continued.
Promises of peace and prosperity made by the Ancestors, seven thousand years ago. My own ancestors, as a matter of fact.
Two powerful fae races—elemental and terrestrial—doomed to occupy one realm and kill each other in endless skirmishes and retaliations for a million years. Until it all exploded into the Great War.
Until the Ancestors—the fucking perfect, revered Ancestors—came up with their scheme to unite the elemental and terrestrial kingdoms under one throne.
How many of these same fae had been here for the last Offering? My mother, obviously. The Dowager. If I was an accident, what was she? A monster, my mind answered. I suppressed the shiver that slinked through me despite the heat. Turning back to my brother, I forced myself to focus on him instead. Not on the past. It was too dangerous.
“A High King and Queen to rule all of Annwyn, one elemental, one terrestrial. United, as our kingdoms are and shall ever be. Terrestrial brethren, the Court of the Elemental Fae are honored by your presence.” Then Arthur did something unexpected.
He bowed his head to the delegation below the dais. I nearly spit out the aural in my mouth. A few courtiers didn’t manage quite so well. The advisors, my brother’s royal council, were horrified.
But Arthur looked at none of them. He stared directly at the terrestrial fae delegation, meeting each of their eyes in turn. Showing respect. “My court welcomes you.Iwelcome you.”
My heart swelled with pride. The crown of the elemental fae was hereditary. Anyone might have set upon that throne, myth or monster. My mother, for example.
But my brother was meant for this, made for it. He was the sort of king legends and epic poems were written about.
One by one, to almost everyone’s surprise, the terrestrial fae dipped their heads in recognition and respect of Arthur’s offering.
He lifted his aural in a toast. “For all that has been, and all that will ever be.”
“For all that has been and all that will ever be,” the room recited back to him.
Then they all drank.
If I had been anyone else, I would have ignored the invitation—nay, requirement—to sip. But I was Veyka Pendragon, Crown Princess of the Elemental Fae. Whether I liked it or not, and I certainly did not, the half of the crowd that wasn’t watching Arthur was watching me.
So I lifted the aural to my lips, like a good little princess.
Even though I knew it was all a farce. All that has been—the past the Ancestors so meticulously crafted. All that will ever be—the future of the fae we were charged with protecting. For those things, I’d been locked away in the water garden compound for most of my life.
But I was not trapped any longer, I reminded myself as the silky sweet liquor rolled down my throat. I was free. Arthur was king. All was well. With Arthur as king, maybe—just maybe—it could be a different sort of world.
Across the cavernous room, my brother’s eyes found me. He knew, of course, what those words meant to me. He alone knew and understood. I held his gaze, refusing to let my eyes slide past him down the dais, to where my mother sat. She could not have this moment. Or any others. Not after all she’d done to us.
I see you. You are safe,my brother’s eyes promised me.
I could not incline my head, not with so many spectators. But I knew Arthur could read the thoughts in my head. Another anomaly of twins. The shared language of our souls spoke to one another across deserts and goldstone palaces alike.
When Arthur turned back to the terrestrial delegation, my pulse was steady once again.
But—What was that?
