Fated Crown by Eva Chase
Chapter Fifteen
Corwin
“You’re not normally this cheerful when we have to go talk to your colleagues,” Talia says in a teasing tone, glancing at me over her shoulder from where she’s standing in front of the full-length mirror. She called me into her bedroom to inspect the outfit she’s chosen for the meeting. Rather than one of her Seelie friend’s elaborate creations, she’s gone with a subdued and practical gown completely in the winter fae style—one of my own craftsmen’s creations.
“I suppose I don’t typically have quite so much to be cheerful about,” I reply, a smile tugging at my lips. As much practice as I’ve had keeping my emotions bottled up, it’s hard not to grin like some kind of maniac.
She’s staying. There’ll be minor compromises to be made to allow her to watch over her brother, of course, but she isn’t returning to the human world for any substantial length of time. I get to have my soul-twined mate by my side where she’s meant to be.
I doubt my colleagues will be anywhere near as enthusiastic about that fact as I am, but I can’t bring myself to care. She’s my mate. The Heart has willed it. Not even the most arrogant of arch-lords can put up much argument to that fact.
Talia smiles back at me. She does a slow twirl in front of the mirror, careful of her wounded foot in her usual boots, and smooths down the dress’s skirt. “I thought if I go looking as much as possible like I belong here, they might be a little more open to my request.”
Not just lovely to behold but so keen-minded as well. I nod. “I think that was the right choice. But we still want you to look an arch-lord’s lady as well. Perhaps… Wait here a moment.”
I duck out of the room and hurry to my own, where I left a jewelry box I meant to offer her when it seemed like a good time. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it now when it’ll support her goals as well as amplifying her beauty.
The box is cool against my fingers, a mix of ebony wood and silver not so different from the blend of oak and diamond making up this castle, wound together in an intricate pattern. It holds several treasures passed down through my family. When I step into Talia’s bedroom with it, I open it up and take out the piece I was thinking of: a silver necklace dappled with tiny, pale blue diamonds that shimmer like sunlight on snow.
“This was my grandmother’s,” I tell her, going to her to clasp it around her neck. “The first arch-lord to rule from Heart’s Cadence.”
I adjust the necklace, resisting the urge to let my hands linger against Talia’s smooth skin, and step back to take in the whole picture. The dress was only a little on the plain side, and that simple piece elevates her ensemble from professional to honor-worthy.
Talia touches the necklace, awed gratitude carrying through our bond. “Thank you. It looks perfect.”
“It is perfect. I dare them to try to say no to you when you look like that.”
She shoots me a wry glance. “Somehow I think they’ll take that dare. They don’t even like me when I’m helping them. They’re definitely not going to be happy about me poking around seeing what they might be doing wrong.”
She speaks easily enough, but I can sense the worries tangled inside her. She does have an accurate measure of the other arch-lords.
I rest my hands on her shoulders and press a quick kiss to the back of her head. “You have a reasonable request. I’ll speak up for your right to make it, and so will Sylas—and perhaps even Neve and that Donovan fellow will support it too. If they resist, they’ll only be admitting they have something untoward to hide.”
Talia makes a disgruntled sound. “But they might prefer to admit that than to have it outright exposed.” She sighs. “I wish we could at least have the meeting here instead of in the Hall.”
“Laoni wanted everything to be ‘equal,’ and since we had the last joint meeting of the arch-lords on the summer side…” I give her an apologetic grimace in the mirror. “After this, it’ll be balanced out, and perhaps we can convince them to make use of the border castle for all future collective conferences.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Whitt’s dry voice carries through. “We’re due across the way in a few minutes. Is the mite ready to go? Don’t keep her all to yourself now.”
My instinct is to bristle at the word “mite,” but Talia’s internal reaction is all warm amusement, so obviously the nickname isn’t meant to offend.
“I’m coming,” she calls out, giving her dress one last straightening tug, and clasps my hand to draw me with her to the door.
Sylas’s strategist has dressed sharply for this meeting as well, although from what I’ve observed, Whitt is the most clothing-conscious of Talia’s Seelie men at any time. His bright brown hair, though, is rumpled as if he hasn’t done more than run his fingers through it. I suppose I should be glad it’s Sylas who’ll be doing any talking out of the bunch.
Whitt looks Talia over with an appreciative gleam in his eyes that raises my hackles all over again even though I approve of it. As I tamp down on the jealousy I’ve mostly but not entirely conquered, he takes Talia’s other hand so we can lead her downstairs together.
“Let’s go see what those feather-brained winter arch-lords can find to complain about today,” he says breezily.
Talia mock-glowers at him. “It isn’t as if all the summer arch-lords have been so welcoming. If you’re coming along, you’d better play nice.”
Whitt presses his free hand to his chest as if in shock. “Of all the things I may be called, I’d think you’d know by now that ‘nice’ isn’t one of them.”
My mate elbows him teasingly, and he grins. I keep my mouth shut, not sure how to respond to the ribbing banter.
Out of the three Seelie men, Whitt is the one I’m the least at ease with still. Sylas and I have formed a sort of understanding as equals, both dedicated to Talia and the fae folk we represent. August wears his emotions clearly on his face and is generally straightforward in his speaking. Whitt is the type of fae who’ll happily weave a story that skirts the very edge of lying and laugh about it later. Which is the sort of temperament I suppose one would want in a spymaster, but that doesn’t make me any surer of where anything stands with him.
He adores Talia, though. That much I’m certain of from the interactions I’ve observed both in person and through her memories. Even now, there’s no missing the fondness that brightens his expression in her presence. That’s all I really need to know.
Sylas and August are waiting downstairs. “Beautiful as always, my love,” Sylas says to Talia, who beams at him, and we head out through the broad doorway on my side of the castle toward the Hall of the Heart.
The other Seelie arch-lords have come across the border from their own domains. We spot Donovan and a couple of his cadre-chosen crossing the icy plain and entering the Hall before we reach it. Halfway there, Zelpha and Verik catch up with us. The discussion today could affect a great deal about how things are run in both realms, and we want our closest associates quickly apprised.
Laoni and Uzziah are already at the table when we arrive, along with Celia and Donovan, who’s just getting into his place. Terisse arrives a moment later, and Neve wanders in last, on her own and not appearing at all concerned about that fact. She grants Talia a smile that makes me more hopeful about her taking our side.
Laoni is scowling, her expression even sourer than it’s been the last few times we spoke. “I understand your mate has come to a decision about her living situation,” she says to me briskly. “Let’s hear it.”
I can tell from her tone that she’s already reasonably certain what that decision is and she isn’t pleased about it. My body tenses, but I let Talia speak for herself. The more she shows she can hold her own among them, the harder it’ll be for them to dismiss her.
Talia raises her chin, looking impressively regal. “After further observation and reflection, I believe that it’s in everyone’s best interests, including mine and my brother’s, if I stay here in the fae world. My brother has adapted fairly well to the trauma he’s been through, and I don’t want to risk dredging up the past by coming back into his life out of nowhere. And it’ll be much easier for me to continue helping with the curse if I’m here.”
Uzziah makes a scoffing sound that sets my teeth on edge.
Celia narrows her eyes. “Are you sure you’ve made that judgment with all the factors fully considered and not simply following the desires of your heart? I can understand you have many reasons you’d want to think it best to remain here.”
Sylas stirs. “Neither I nor my cadre nor Arch-Lord Corwin, that I’m aware of, have done anything but support Talia’s right to choose where she goes. We haven’t swayed her in any direction.”
I incline my head in acknowledgment, and Talia sets her hands firmly on the tabletop. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. I’m completely confident in my decision.”
Laoni’s lips curl. “And we’re supposed to go by a human’s reasoning rather than what we fae feel is best for our peoples? Are we the arch-lords here or is she?”
“We are,” I say tersely. “And not all of those arch-lords feel she should leave. In fact, I haven’t heard any clear explanation for why that is a more practical course of action. Are you sure those of you pushing for my mate to live elsewhere aren’t being swayed by your emotions rather than reason?”
Laoni’s eyes flash with anger as I knew they would, but I don’t regret my remark one bit.
Before she can retort, Donovan shifts on his feet with a hint of discomfort. “It will definitely be easier tending to the curse with Talia close by. Especially for the Unseelie when each of the victims requires separate treatment.”
“There are other factors to consider,” Celia puts in. “This isn’t truly her world. Her presence may have other effects that are less desirable.”
“Like what?” Sylas asks, fixing her with a level stare. “I’ve asked before and never had any proof offered: has her relationship with any of us present affected us or anyone else negatively in any way?”
Terisse’s jaw works. “We can’t be certain that it won’t in the future.”
“But it hasn’t yet,” Talia breaks in. “It’s because of the close relationship I’ve formed with fae on both sides of the border that you’re able to have meetings like this rather than continuing to kill each other in the first place, isn’t it? Why make up problems that don’t exist yet when I can help so much with the biggest problem you do know about?”
I fight back a smile at her tart remarks. That would only enrage my colleagues who are against her decision even more. But all of them fall silent, obviously not having any real argument to push forward.
“Actually,” Talia goes on, gathering confidence, “Arch-Lord Celia brought up a point that leads into the other subject I wanted to discuss today. I may not theoretically belong here, but it was fae who brought me here, and you’ve brought plenty of other humans into your world as well—humans you’ve kept for their entire lives.”
“What of it?” Uzziah demands.
Talia gazes at him and then the others around the table, not letting her determined stance waver. “I’ve done a lot to help improve the lives of the fae by fending off the curse. I think I have a duty to step up for my people who are living among you too. I’d like to visit more of the domains on both sides of the border with a decree from the arch-lords that the lords and ladies are to allow me free access to talk to their human servants.”
Laoni draws in a hiss of breath. “There we have it. Your dust-destined mate is looking for ways to make trouble already. What purpose could that mission serve us?”
“Watch how you speak to my lady,” I say, just barely holding back the rancor I want to aim at her. I have to keep my cool in this company, but I can’t stand by while they insult my mate either.
Talia turns to Laoni, her voice still even. “It will serve the people you’ve forced to become citizens of the fae world. When I’ve seen enough, I expect to have recommendations on improving the treatment they’re currently facing. We can debate exactly which you’ll agree to then, but I won’t stand by quietly while others like me are being drugged and tricked into slavery.”
A flare of pride warms my chest. How could anyone doubt that she’s meant to stand beside me as my lady?
But naturally Laoni doesn’t see it that way. Her shoulders go rigid, her jaw even tighter than before. When she speaks, it’s in a tone venomous enough to kill. “It’s not your place to question traditions that have been in place for thousands of years longer than you’ve been alive. Your freak circumstances might have given you the appearance of power, but don’t forget that you’re still a dung-body underneath.”
An emotional wince travels from Talia into me, but my anger has already rushed to the front of my mind. All at once, my reserve seems ridiculous.
Why should I care what these people think any more than Talia does? What good is there in courting the favor of those who deal it out so grudgingly and unfairly? From the very start of this conversation—from the first moment Talia came among us, really—they’ve shown nothing but disrespect to her and our bond.
They’re never going to change their views until they see some consequences for them.
I wrap my hand around one of Talia’s and aim a glare at Laoni. “How you shame the Heart by speaking of the one it’s blessed with so much—the one who’s given us so much—with such insults. We don’t need to stand here and listen to your hostility any longer. My mate has stated her request. Unless you can come up with a logical reason to deny it, not based on the prejudiced assumption that she matters less than the rest of us, I have no interest in hearing anything further spoken against it. We’ll proceed whether we have your acceptance or not.”
Talia glances at me, startled, but when I draw her away from the table, she walks with me as steadily as she can, her head held high. I catch a muffled chuckle from someone behind us, and then Sylas is striding to catch up. My coterie members and his cadre-chosen follow behind us.
“Corwin!” Uzziah calls, but I don’t even look back. They need to do more than that to earn my attention again.
As we step out into the wintry air beyond the building’s walls to head back to the border castle, Talia squeezes my hand. The emotions churning within her are a potent mix of amazement, trepidation, and… love. I can’t believe you told them off like that. That you walked right out on them.
I know it might lead to more difficulties down the road, I start, but she shakes her head.
I was impressed. I don’t know if it’ll make any difference to how they treat me in the long run… but I appreciated that you’d stand up for me that much anyway.
A lump rises in my throat. I always will, my soul.
“Well,” August says a little awkwardly, rubbing his hands together. “After that, I think we could all use a good meal to wash away the bad taste left in our mouths. Talia, do you want to join me in making the first epic dinner of your new home?”
A little more of the tension fades from my mate as she smiles at him. “That sounds wonderful.”
When we reach the castle, Zelpha and Verik set off to fill the rest of my coterie in, Zelpha giving me a jaunty salute and an approving smile as she turns away. Talia and August make for the kitchen.
Sylas pauses in the winter front hall and studies me. “Should we be prepared for any fallout from that move?”
I manage a strained laugh. “I’m not sure. I’ve never defied my colleagues that blatantly before. I suppose we’ll see. What about your own?”
He shrugs. “Donovan is already friendly to us. I can deal with Celia if she has any further concerns. I have a few things to see to with my pack, but I’ll return in time for dinner.” The corners of his mouth twitch upward. “Knowing August, it’ll be at least a couple of hours before he can see through his full vision of this feast.”
He strides off, leaving me in the hall—with Whitt, who’s lingered nearby. He’s eyeing me too, with a more appraising air than I felt from his lord. My skin prickles uneasily, but then an easy grin stretches across his face.
“You’d pick her over any of them, wouldn’t you, Lord Bird?” he says.
The nickname irks me, but not enough that I’d focus on that rather than the important part of his question. “In an instant,” I reply automatically.
Not one of my colleagues has earned more loyalty from me than Talia has. I’ll do what’s best for my people as well… but what’s best for my people is having her with us, protected and free.
And loved.
Whitt tips his head to me. For the first time since I met him, I have the sense I’m seeing the real man, not a carefully constructed façade. “I’m glad,” he says. “That’ll make things easier for all of us. And it’s what she deserves.”
I allow myself a little smile in return. “I couldn’t agree more about that.”
He motions to me. “Come on then, you chilly raven. Let’s see if we can’t move this dinner along a little faster than those two can manage on their own. I could eat a horse already.”
I’ve drawn a firm line with my fellow arch-lords for the first time since I took this position, and no doubt they’re fuming about it. But as I walk with Whitt down the hall to the kitchen, a sense of peace settles over me greater than any I’ve felt before.
