Fated Crown by Eva Chase
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sylas
No one has made a move toward the border castle yet, but a few soldiers from the Unseelie arch-lords’ domains have taken up stations nearby, simply monitoring our activity. Or lack of activity, I suppose, given that we haven’t taken down the smallest piece of the structure so far.
I study them from a high window in the winter side of the castle. Corwin added warming spells to these rooms, but being surrounded by all this cool diamond with that icy expanse outside still sends a chill over my skin. It’s going to take some time getting used to the less familiar elements of our newly shared existence.
If I’m allowed the chance to get used to them. The winter arch-lords clearly aren’t backing down. It’s only late afternoon on the same day they made their announcement, the sun still blazing somewhere behind me, and in theory Corwin has until tomorrow to meet their demands, but they’re already preparing for battle.
In theory, they’ve only asked for him to dismantle what part of the castle extends into winter territory—but the halves of the building are so entwined, that would require a complete restructuring regardless. And there’s little point to having it if it doesn’t allow Talia access to both realms the way Corwin planned.
A heaviness settles over my heart. I turn and stride back through the castle to my own side of the border.
I don’t bother to call an official meeting in the Bastion. Donovan’s already informed me that if I have the law behind me, he’ll back me up against the Unseelie challenge. So in the interests of time and making a more personal appeal, I go straight to Celia’s castle.
The fae man who greets me at the door hustles off to inform her of my arrival. She can’t have been too deeply occupied, because he returns a minute later to escort me to one of the sitting rooms, and she’s already inside when I enter.
Celia makes a vague gesture toward the chairs scattered along the edges of the room, but she remains standing by the elegant fireplace, its frame as sleek and dark as her own form. She sweeps her luminescent hair back over her shoulders and fixes me with a pensive gaze. “I hear there’s trouble with the ravens regarding your new castle, Lord Sylas.”
Her formality doesn’t bode well for my mission. I incline my head. “Three of the winter arch-lords have demanded that Arch-Lord Corwin tear the winter side of the structure down. They claim that it’s primarily Talia’s home, and that being neither a lady by birth nor fae, giving her a castle of her own goes against the will of the Heart.”
“It is unusual.”
“So is Talia,” I have to say. “As is her situation. My strategist and I—and Corwin as well—have been going through what records we can find on related matters, and I don’t believe they have true justification. There have been occasional eccentrics among the faded fae who’ve built grand homes for themselves, and while they were viewed with some derision, they were never forced to dismantle them. There was no sign of magical backlash from the Heart either. And as soul-twined mate to a true-blooded arch-lord, I think we have reasonable grounds to say Talia has been granted her title in every way she could need it by the Heart itself.”
Celia folds her arms over her chest. “It sounds as if you have the matter well in hand then.”
I restrain a grimace. “I’m not sure deflecting the claim will be as easy as presenting those arguments. Those arch-lords, Laoni in particular, have had a vendetta against Talia and her union with Corwin since the soul-twined bond first took effect. You’ve seen how they’ve spoken and behaved during our past negotiations. Whatever their motivations, they want to destabilize her position among the fae. No matter what we say about it, I suspect they’ll force the subject.”
“They have definitely proved to be difficult allies at times,” Celia allows. “I should hope they aren’t in such a hurry to return to a state of war, though.”
“I wouldn’t think they are, but I wouldn’t have expected this move from them either.”
“I can understand your concern. However, this seems to be a matter between the Unseelie arch-lords and those of you with a direct stake in the border castle. Why exactly have you called on me?”
The fact that she’s making me spell it out is even less reassuring. I square my shoulders. “I would like the Seelie arch-lords to present a united front when the Unseelie come to carry out their demands tomorrow. Donovan has already agreed. If we stand together in defense of the border castle remaining whole, with Corwin on our side as well, we represent half of the Heart’s chosen representatives. I believe that may be enough to dissuade them.”
Celia hums to herself. “Perhaps. But for how long, if they carry as much animosity as you suggest?”
“I can’t be certain, of course. I wouldn’t be surprised if they attempt another gambit before too long. But the more times we stand firm against them, the shakier their position becomes.”
“And you don’t think it’s unwise to intrude on the political decisions of the winter realm when they don’t directly affect us?”
“They affect me,” I say. “They affect the woman I mean to take as my mate, who holds back the curse for all of the Seelie. The border castle was meant to represent the cooperation between the realms. So we’re already involved, even if Corwin’s colleagues are putting on a show of focusing only on him. Giving in to their demands now will only open the door to more problems as they push their advantage, not fewer.”
Celia steps away from me, pacing to one end of the room and back again with measured steps. She slides her fingers along the edge of her jaw in thought. “It is also possible that their animosity isn’t entirely unreasonable. Talia has risen to a position of great prominence in a matter of months. I can understand some wariness.”
I can’t stop myself from bristling. “Talia has never done anything but give of herself to help the rest of us in every way she can. To suggest that there might be any maliciousness to her situation is an insult to both one who’s saved us from so much suffering and me and my cadre as well.”
“I didn’t mean that she’s intentionally out to harm us,” Celia replies dryly. “Obviously not. But there’s so much we don’t understand about her origins or her connection to the Heart. Every few weeks some new unexpected aspect to her powers emerges. Where does it end?”
“What does it matter?” I ask. “She’s only ever used those powers to help us.”
“So far. Again, Sylas, I’m not saying she has any ill intentions, only that even she isn’t fully in control of what role she plays here. And we have no way of knowing how that role may shift in the future.”
I frown at her, uneasiness coiling in my gut. Celia is making her points sound perfectly logical, but I have to wonder how much she’s guided by her own discomfort with Talia’s “prominence,” as she put it. Is she truly worried that Talia’s presence will end up harming us in some way, or does she simply feel her own authority is threatened by our people’s growing fondness for my mate-to-be?
“We will see what comes,” I say. “We can only make our decisions now based on what’s already true.”
“Perhaps.” Celia pauses. “But I think I will stay out of your present conflict rather than take a side. What the Heart wants will come to pass one way or another. Let what is right be decided between those of you so concerned. And while I can’t prevent you and Donovan from supporting Arch-Lord Corwin’s cause while you carry the majority, I do hope you won’t bring the conflict back into the summer realm when we’ve finally gotten some semblance of peace.”
She turns away. A protest rises in my throat, but I can see there’s no swaying her. If I badger her about it, I’ll only be making myself look oafish.
“I’m disappointed by your decision, but I accept it,” I say with all the politeness I can muster, and stalk out of the room.
The uneasiness stays with me as I make my way out into the warm afternoon air. The shadows have stretched longer in the time while I was speaking with Celia. I wander between them, too restless to fix on a destination. My wolf stirs beneath my skin, itching to be released.
There’s nothing more I can do here other than wait for tomorrow and see how we fare. We have all the evidence we should need to confirm our right to keep the border castle. Whitt and Corwin are still gathering more.
And Celia’s words niggle at me. There’s so much we still don’t understand about her…
It’s true. None of our investigations have explained how Talia ended up so tied to the fae and our curse. If I knew more about that, perhaps it would persuade Celia to support our cause—or even alleviate whatever worries are gripping the winter arch-lords.
I can’t think of any avenue I haven’t pursued that could tell me more about those origins, though.
No, that isn’t strictly true. I stop in a patch of sunlight, inhaling deeply, a cedar scent flooding my lungs. There is one course I haven’t taken yet, both out of a suspicion it wouldn’t prove useful anyway and a reluctance to ask anything of those involved. Also a small bit of concern that I might end up saying or doing something I’d regret when faced with those villains, discussing the horror they carried out.
But I have nothing else. If there’s even a slight chance reaching out will tip the balance in Talia’s favor, I should take that chance.
Without waiting for trepidation to set in, I veer toward the grove of juniper trees where I usually conjure my carriages. It’s too long a journey to take it at a wolfish run, as much as I’d enjoy letting out some of the tension wound through me by stretching my legs that way.
I send a brief note of explanation to Whitt and set off at the swiftest course I can urge the vehicle to. As I speed over the landscape, I consider the exact questions I want to ask and how to phrase them.
It seems as though barely any time at all has passed before the bone-white walls of Aerik’s fortress come into view up ahead.
My muscles tense automatically. Memories trickle through my mind of the night months ago when my cadre and I slunk inside that building and discovered Talia starving and grimy in her cramped cage, with nothing but a dirty blanket to cover her. My fangs prick at my gums.
Aerik has never fully paid for what he did to my love, and perhaps having freed her from his clutches and brought her all due happiness is the best victory we can claim. But I can’t help hoping that someday he gives me an excuse to deliver a bloodier consequence.
Today, though, I can’t be on the attack. I need his cooperation.
As I draw the carriage to a halt, a few fae emerge from the castle. By the time I’ve leapt out onto the tall grass, the lord of the domain himself has come out to meet me.
The dwindling sunlight catches in Aerik’s vividly yellow hair, which he rakes his fingers through before walking right up to me. Tension tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Arch-Lord Sylas. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
We both know there’s no joy in this meeting for either of us. I offer a thin smile. “There’s a matter I’d like to speak to you about, if you have a moment. It shouldn’t take much of your time.”
Aerik’s gaze flicks over me, and I suspect he’d put me off if he were bolder. But this is a man who enjoys bullying beings far less powerful than himself, not standing up to those who rule over him. He dips his head. “I can spare you that. Why don’t you come inside?”
I like stepping into that bone-white building even less than standing outside it. As Aerik leads me to a small sitting room, my skin crawls. I keep my expression impassive, taking the chair he motions to and waiting until he’s settled into one across from me.
Neither of us will want this conversation drawn out. I get straight to the point. “I’d like to hear your full account of the night you found Talia.”
Aerik blinks at me. Whatever he might have imagined this visit was about, it clearly wasn’t that. “I beg your pardon?” he says cautiously.
I set my elbows on the arms of the chair and fold my hands together in my lap. “The night of the full moon, when you stumbled into the human world with your cadre and came upon Talia. When you discovered the curse-breaking effect of her blood.” And mauled her brother and slaughtered her parents. I hold in those accusations. “I want to know everything you can remember about that incident. How did you end up so far from home when the curse took you? Did you see anything else of note after you came out of it?”
Aerik is silent for a long moment, braced as if he thinks this might be a trick, that I’m setting him up for some kind of punishment right now. When I simply wait patiently, he swipes his hand across his mouth. “There was nothing of note about the situation in which we found her or our collecting of her. As soon as I tasted her blood and snapped out of the curse, I realized the effect she had and how valuable that made her. My cadre had already torn through her family—I didn’t order their murders, if you were thinking I had.”
It had occurred to me that he might have to ensure no one remained who’d search for Talia, but whether he incited his cadre or not makes little difference to the outcome. “I assume you arranged for them to sample her blood and wake up as well.”
He nodded. “We healed her wounds so that she’d survive the journey back to our world and set off straight for the nearest portal. It was a small town, quiet. I believe we saw a couple of cars passing on the roads as we made our way, but no one else on foot. Nothing stands out in my memory. Although it would have needed to be rather impressive to have distracted me from the discovery we’d just made.”
I can only imagine the whirlwind of his thoughts in that moment. For him, it would have been not just the thought of how she could benefit all Seelie-kind but how he could use her to improve his own standing among us.
My claws twitch behind my fingertips, but I hold them in. “All right. But how did you end up in that small town to begin with? It’s a long way from here to the fringes. Surely you didn’t normally wander so far on the night of the curse?”
“No,” Aerik says shortly, and then knits his brow as if he’s having trouble recalling the events. “A distant niece of mine called in a favor that day. Her domain is close to the fringelands. We meant to return before sundown. But…” The furrow in his brow deepens. “Something caught our attention. We tracked it into the woods along the fringe…”
As he focuses on dredging up the memory, an after-image wavers up over his face before my deadened eye. For a few seconds, I’m seeing both the man in front of me and another version of him, scanning his surroundings with a predatory gleam in his eyes and his fangs bared. Whatever he was searching for back then, he meant to rip it apart.
Aerik snaps his fingers, and the ghostly image vanishes with the blink of my eyes. He taps the arm of his chair. “A rat,” he says. “We were chasing down a rat we were sure we’d scented. Those stinking Murk.”
“A rat,” I repeat. A clammy sensation squeezes around my gut.
Aerik nods. “We didn’t want to let the thing get away. I think we suspected it’d caused the mischief my niece called us in over. We must have figured it didn’t matter if the moon rose, we’d deal with the vermin just as easily wild as sane.”
And in the process they’d ended up rampaging through a portal onto Talia’s doorstep.
“That’s all you remember?” I ask, even though I’m sure of the answer. None of us holds memories of our savagery in the grip of the curse. That’s part of the horror of it—not even being sure what violence you’ve carried out.
“That’s all of it.” Aerik considers me. “Did my answers meet your satisfaction?”
“I appreciate your humoring my curiosity,” I say, getting up. I’m not going to tell him my real reasons for asking. I can’t tell him what I’ve discerned from his answers, since I’m not even sure myself yet.
A rat in the woods by the portals years ago, drawing Aerik and his cadre on a chase. A rat blasting down the homes in the Unseelie summer settlement last month. A rat springing at Talia just yesterday by an iron-laced fire.
I don’t know what it means, but the one thing I am certain of is that I don’t like it at all.
