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“Oh my,” I breathed, unable to contain my smile. Papá would love this place.
The woman stepped politely aside and watched me with keen eyes as I drank in the heavenly stables. Between two distant pastures was another enormous structure that resembled a stable.
“Are there more horses over there?” This barn alone held far more stalls than I’d ever seen in one place.
Everence bit her thin lips hastily. “Not horses, no.”
I both itched to know and couldn’t bring myself to ask what it housed instead.
She took my arm and led me into the horse stable. It smelled like home, the sweet scent of oats and hay bringing a sad smile to my face.
“Starfell is…somewhat of a refuge,” Everence said, her tone careful. “Rafael never closes his doors to those in need. But that also means the grounds are not safe for you to wander alone. Particularly not in that direction. The inhabitants of that barn know not to come near the horses, so you should be fine coming and going from here.”
A shiver of unease raced down my spine. How could a creature so dangerous also be intelligent enough to know where it was allowed to roam?
“What does Rafael do during the days?” I asked.
Everence’s smile dimmed briefly. “He must tell you that himself.” At my disappointed expression, she caught my arm. “There are many fae who disapprove of humans as…spouses. You must never go looking for him, and you must never leave the grounds unaccompanied. Promise me.”
Brows lifted, I coughed out an agreement. Do not wander alone. Do not look for your absent husband. Do not leave the estate.
“What am I to do here?” I croaked out.
The woman at my elbow turned her ice blue eyes on me. She looked much more like Hector than Rafael. Her cheekbones glittered slightly, and her overlong eyelashes billowed like ribbons in the breeze every time she blinked. It was lovely but slightly distracting.
“You have a great purpose here, but it is up to you to discover it on your own. Nothing in the house is off limits to you. It is vast and full of secrets to learn and books to read. The horses are yours as much as his.” She pointed at something I couldn’t quite see. “A lake in that direction provides ample places to relax or watch the pixies at play.”
“Pixies?”
Everence laughed. “They are quite beautiful when they think no one is watching them.” In a whisper, she added, “But you must never let them see you. If they do, they turn into the worst pests you’ve ever known.”
As we walked the length of the left-hand side of the stable, I thought over her words. “Hector is one of the fae who hates humans, isn’t he?”
She laughed. It sounded like a summer brook. “He has more compassion than is quite normal for many of the high fae.” She touched her lips with her fingers. “Hector has stood by Rafael’s side when no one else did. Not even me.”
A shadow ghosted over her face, and she turned toward the stalls. She hadn’t answered my question.
She identified various stalls. One for Lily, Rafael’s favorite riding horse. Another for Espera, his most prized stallion. With a heavy sigh, she kissed the nameplate marking Espera’s stall. His full name was La Espera Fue Larga—“the wait was long.”
I cocked my head at both his unusual name and the woman’s strange action. It was clear these fae loved their horses, which meant we had one thing in common.
Lily was in her stall, asleep. When I’d ridden her, she was galloping over thin air, past the very real vision of my dead family. The memory took me, and I cringed, slamming back against the wall.
Everence spun, her eyes wide. “Everything all right?”
“I saw visions of my parents,” I said, not including the fact that I’d seen myself, covered in blood, in that nightmare too.
“The nightmares are crafted to hurt deeply. Rafael told me what you saw.” At my bewildered expression, she added, “Oh, yes, your nightmares are his now. As his are yours.”
There was something deeply significant in that statement. The fae marriage vows said we would share all things. This, apparently, included our deepest fears. But I had no idea which of the things I’d seen were his nightmares. Then I remembered—the dark-haired man watching us from beside the hanging gate. He’d worn a golden crown that glowed faintly.
I nodded at her, recovering. “I apologize.”
“No need. I have something that will cheer you up.”
Following her out into the sunlight once more, we approached the paddock where the black horse pranced. She beamed as she lifted a hand toward the stallion.
“This is Espera. Fastest horse in the world.”
