A Dance with the Fae Prince by Elise Kova

Chapter 17

It’s just Giles,Shaye, and me for dinner that night. They’re already sitting, food half gone, when I emerge from my room. I indulged in a midday nap after returning from Hol’s to try and clear my mind. But I find it’s just as murky when I wake. My thoughts, and dreams, all revolve around Davien and this strange new world…even if I don’t want them to.

“Where’s Oren?” I ask as I swing my legs over the bench at one of the tables in the meeting hall.

“He had some house business to attend to,” Shaye says.

“Oh, I see.” Don’t ask about Davien. Don’t ask about Davien, I repeat in my mind. Yet, “And Davien?” Damn it, Katria.

“Vena wanted him. Likely something to do with the ritual to get the magic out of you.” Giles rips off a drumstick from an unrecognizable breed of large, roasted bird and begins viciously chomping with his sharp teeth. “Knowing the two of them, they’ll have something figured out by morning. Smart ones, they are.”

“Anyone is smart compared to you, Giles.” Shaye grins.

“Good thing I keep you around to make up where I lack.” Giles chuckles.

Shaye quickly turns her attention on me, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “I heard you went out for an adventure in town today.”

“Hol tell you?” I carve off a hunk of breast meat for myself, grabbing a slice of bread and spoon of vegetables from a serving dish at the same time.

“Among others.”

“Others?”

“People are talking about the new singer and lute player on the scene in the Screaming Goat.” She grins and picks bird-sized pieces of bread, popping them in her mouth. “You got more fire in you than I thought. I didn’t take you for the type to go rogue.”

I shrug. “I like music and wanted to hear it.”

“Good thing she’s got a bit of roguish tendency in her.” Giles chuckles. “This is a whole city of rogues. Vigilantes. Ne’er-do-wells. Treasonous scoundrels who don’t fit in anywhere else and would slit our current king’s neck if we had the chance.”

“Everyone has seemed lovely to me,” I counter, digging into the food.

“Everyone? Even our dear king-to-be when he was throwing a tantrum in the woods?”

“Well…” I always knew the anger wasn’t directed at me. Though it was annoying, to put it mildly.

“How about the ten-year-old who was ready to make you dance for his amusement like a puppet?” Shaye raises her eyebrows.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me.” I come to Raph’s defense yet again. Even if the situation could’ve ended badly, it didn’t. And I truly believe he didn’t mean me harm.

“Could’ve ended up the same.”

“I believed he wouldn’t have.”

“Stop sticking up for people when you shouldn’t. If someone treats you badly, call them out on it.” She shakes her head and glances at me from the corners of her eyes. “Never thought I’d hear a human defending a fae…or saying they’re ‘all right.’ What has the world come to?”

The notion of pointing out when someone treats me badly is strange. I try and find a place to settle it onto my psyche. I like the idea enough to try and implement it. “Maybe I’m not your average human?”

“Not as long as you have the king’s magic within you,” Shaye agrees.

“I hope Davien can get it soon and bring order to this mad world…” Giles murmurs.

I remember what Davien said in the streets today about Hol. “Did you both live in the Bleeding Woods once?”

They exchange a look that’s worth a conversation. Giles is the first one to speak, starting with a shake of his head. “I lived in the Court of Pillars originally.”

“Court of Pillars?”

“The Boltovs came through and demanded our axes and rituals. We weren’t much in the way of combatants and couldn’t put up a resistance. Though we tried. Those ancient crafting tools were all we had…” His eyes and voice become distant. Shaye reaches across the table and rests a hand on his. Their eyes lock and there’s another moment of understanding between them that I’m an outsider to. The connection between these two is deeper than I originally gave credit.

Shaye speaks. I can almost sense that she does it so Giles doesn’t have to. “I lived in the High Court originally.”

“The High Court?” I repeat softly. “The place with the castle? Where the—”

“Boltovs live. Yes.” Shaye returns her hands to her lap, staring at her plate a moment before taking a swig of her mead with purpose. “I was born there…and I think from the moment I drew my first breath, I exhaled the promise that I would not let myself die there.”

“Shaye…” Giles says softly.

She meets my eyes with an intensity that I can’t turn away from. “After my birth, the Boltovs assessed me, determined me worthy, and I began the training to be a Butcher.”

I think of that man in the woods who was so intent on killing Davien. I imagine him living a life of blood and battle from birth. Knowing no scrap of kindness in a way far, far worse than I can comprehend. “How did you escape?”

“They turned me into a weapon,” Shaye muses over the edge of her glass. “The thing about the Boltovs is they don’t realize weapons aren’t loyal by default. A sword knows no ruler, only the hand that holds it.”

“So you found a better ruler?”

“I found a mind, thought for myself, and became my own ruler,” Shaye insists firmly. “I realized I was not a tool to be used by others. But a soldier—a knight, a person that any king should delight in having on their retainer. That I was not indispensable as my first king thought me. So, I found my own mission, and that happened to align with a better king.”

I pick at my food, and shift in my seat, trying to get more comfortable. Suddenly, I can’t find a position where my skin feels right. Something she said has jarred me, tilted my world beyond easy repair.

“How did you find that mind of yours? One where you defined your own worth?” I ask softly. I dare to bring my eyes to her, afraid she’ll chastise or mock me. To my surprise, she doesn’t. She stares at me, intent and expectant. “How were you able to break away from the king who controlled you? How were you able to tell yourself that he no longer mattered or even—even spite him?”

“It started with a thought,” she says softly. As she speaks, my innermost insecurities are dredged up from the murky depths I try and drown them in. “A thought that maybe the reason why he tried to keep me down was because I was better than he could ever be. He was afraid of me—afraid of what I could become if he didn’t control me. So he spent every bit of his energy making me feel less. Making me feel worthless. Making me feel like I was nothing without him.”

Wretched girl, do as I say and maybe someday you’ll find someone who loves you, Joyce’s words echo from a history I’ve tried to blot out.

“I made him feel strong. Ruling over me, telling me what to do, thinking my every breath was dependent on him…that was what gave him power. Which meant I had power. He needed me. And I wanted to take that from him. So I did. I found a mind of my own and I kept it. I harbored it in secret until the moment I could get away. And then I vowed to do everything I could to destroy him.” Shaye stabs her knife into the table at her side. “I will die happy if I am the one to slit his throat when this is all over. But even if I’m not, knowing I helped the person who dealt the final blow shall be my life’s greatest work.”

I stare in awe at the woman. I should be afraid, I think. But… But I admire her fiercely. She’s everything I wish I could’ve been. Everything I hope I can still yet be. But my villains aren’t kings and their loyalists…they’re dressed in layers of silk. They powder their noses and then turn them up at me. I can dine with fae but the thought of my mother still makes me cower.

“I think you’ve stunned her into silence.” Giles nudges me as he speaks to Shaye. “You have to go easy on the poor human. She’s not used to our viciousness.”

“Don’t go easy on my account.” I pick up my fork and knife, tearing into my meat. “I’m finding things very comfortable here. So act normal.”

Shaye arches her eyebrows at Giles, who snickers. The two are silenced when the doors to Vena’s hall opens. Davien and the leader of Dreamsong stride out, still engaged in an intense discussion—at least until Davien’s eyes snag on me.

“Good, you’re eating,” he says.

“What else should I be doing?”

“Nothing else. It’s just good you are…because you’ll need all your strength for the ritual come morning.”

* * *

I barely geta wink of sleep that night. The entire time I toss and turn. If it’s not the thoughts of what the ritual might entail, it’s the sight of Davien, grinning like a fool and casting those bright green eyes toward me. I even get out of bed at one point, halfway to the door to hunt him down and demand to know what will happen, before I think better of it. I’m going to see him in a few short hours, I remind myself. There’s absolutely no need to go sneaking to his room in the middle of the night, wherever it might be.

As soon as dawn breaks, I’m out of bed and down the stairs to the main hall. The tables are still being set, candles being lit by taper and magic alike. A familiar voice calls out to me.

“Oi, miss human!” Raph scurries over. He has a basket half the size of him filled with fresh loaves of bread. “You need to go anywhere today?” He gives me that snaggletooth grin.

“No… But I could use your help in getting something.” I crouch down, eying the bread in his basket. First I will seize the opportunity of Raph’s nimble little fingers with a new—more careful—deal. Then I’ll nimbly snatch some bread of my own.

“You know I can deliver anything you need. What can I do you for?”

“I need a lute. Any lute. Doesn’t have to be a particularly nice one.” Last night would’ve been far more bearable if I’d had something to play to pass the time. “What will that cost me?”

He thinks about it, puffing out his cheeks while he does. “I want to see the Natural World.”

I snort, imagining Raph back on the human side of the Fade. Maybe I could employ him at the manor after the magic is out of me. The idea of Raph helping me tend that overgrown garden almost brings forth laughter. I don’t hate the image. He could be an apprentice of sorts to me. Or perhaps I to him. Living that close to the Fade…maybe there’s some old remnants of human magic I’d find in me. Laura would find amusement in Raph at the very least. I’ve begun to imagine her living with me, too. She’d get the magic she sought, and I would gain the knowledge that Joyce wouldn’t corrupt her.

“I don’t think I can give that to you. Try again.” I select my warm loaf from the basket. He hums. I suddenly notice he’s avoiding my eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “You have something else in mind?”

“I’m thinking.”

“I’ll wait.” I tear of hunks of bread, popping them in my mouth while he works up the courage to ask for whatever it is he wants.

“Iwannahearyousinggain.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I wantta hear y’singagain.”

I lean toward him. “One more time.”

“I want to hear you sing again.” He finally enunciates every word, looking painfully yet adorably shy as he does. “Play me a song with the lute I bring you.”

I’m on the verge of agreeing when I think of what Davien said. “What song?”

“Any song of your choosing.”

“When?”

“Any time of your choosing.”

“For how long?”

“Any song, any time, in any fashion of your choosing. You have free will to decide the circumstances of how you fulfill this deal.”

I hum and narrow my eyes. “You know I know your parents now, right? You’re not trying to be sneaky, are you?”

His skinny tail twitches with annoyance. “I’ll bring you a lute if you play me a song as you want, when you want. But when you play, I have to be able to sit right in the front to listen. That’s all I ask. No catches. No tricks.”

“Deal.” I stand and ruffle his hair. Who knows if he’ll actually bring the lute, anyway? “You’re not so bad, for a kid.”

“And you’re halfway decent, for a human.” He sticks out his tongue at me.

“Raph.” Davien’s tone is a warning.

I stick my tongue back at the little fae, making sure Davien sees so he knows our jest is mutual. I glance back at him with a slight grin. “I started it.”

“I’m sure you did.” He holds out a hand expectantly.

It takes me a moment to realize he wants a hunk of my bread. Maybe I like the man more than I think I do, because I actually pass him a chunk without telling him to get his own.

“You’re not quite the docile wife I was expecting as the daughter of a lord. I feel like our time together is punctuated with me finding you in places you shouldn’t be, doing things you shouldn’t do.”

“It’s a curse of mine,” I mumble, thinking of my childhood. I always ended up in their way, or finding a place Joyce didn’t want me to. Like a back entrance to her closet. In Helen’s studio.

Or the rooftop…

“I rather find it a delight. If I was going to be married in the Natural World’s record to any human, I suppose there are worse ones to be saddled with.” He’s fighting a grin and losing.

“I’m shocked you didn’t find a wife before me, with charm like that.” I shove bread into my mouth.

“I’m shocked you didn’t find a husband before me, with manners like those.”

I roll my eyes but crack a smile. It falls as a thought occurs to me. “You said married in the Natural World…”

“Don’t worry, we’re not married here by any stretch.” He starts for Vena’s audience chamber. “There are no tricks and no laws of the fae I’ve used. Rumors of fae stealing women’s hands are greatly overexaggerated.”

“Of course.” I force a smile back on my lips as the sinking feeling that initially pulled it from my cheeks continues down my chest and into my stomach. It settles like disappointment in my gut. Why does this feel like a surprise? He said he’d leave me the manor. He was coming to the fae world and he was never going back. I’d be a widow. Alone in the world.

Alone so no one can hurt me…

Alone…lonely…

“I made sure Oren structured the arrangement so it would dissolve once I left.” For once, he’s oblivious to my turmoil. He doesn’t even look at me. “You will be free to marry whom you please, Katria. And I am free to make a smart match to secure the future of my kingdom.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?”

He slows his pace and finally looks at me. The world seems to still. My breath snags. There’s depth to his expression that, for the first time, I can’t read. Is it sorrow? Or worry? I can’t tell. His brows are pinched up slightly in the center and I’m fighting the urge to take his hand. I want to touch him. I want to… My mind slams against the walls I’ve built around myself once more. Not allowing me to even think about anything one step further.

“I do try,” he says softly. “But even kings are sometimes caught off guard.”

The sentiment is as gentle as a feather falling. It lands on a cold, dark part of me that I try desperately to hide from the world. My heart beats in reply, as if it’s trying to push blood and warmth back into that unused corner of my soul. The way he’s looking at me now…regret. That’s what it is.

“Is that why you were so harsh to me in the woods after I first arrived?” I ask, trying to honor the promise I made to myself last night, inspired by Shaye. I’m sure she does much better at taking people to task when they have wronged her, but this is the best I can muster. “Because, the way you treated me then… I knew you weren’t angry with me but it still wasn’t—”

“Fair,” he finishes. Davien tips his head to look me in the eyes. I’m aware of just how much it closes the gap between us. His eyes are filled with what I’d call remorse. They drop to my hands, which he scoops up thoughtfully. His thumbs brush over my knuckles, nearly making me forget entirely about what it was we were just discussing. “I know. I should have apologized to you sooner. Shaye was right and I was acting a petulant child, frustrated with the circumstances. So you’re right, too, in that it had nothing to do with you. But that’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Katria. I won’t let it happen again. Will you forgive me?”

“Davien, I…” Have I ever been apologized to this gently or sincerely? My walls crumble under the heat of his presence, so heartbreakingly close.

“Oh, good, you two are already here.” Vena breezes past us. Davien drops my hands and steps away, his cheeks a little redder than they were a moment ago. “Finish your breakfast and let’s get started. There’s no time to waste.”

She opens the doors to her audience chamber. But the hall isn’t empty. Standing in the middle is a woman wrapped in a familiar black shawl. It’s the same as what I saw that night in the Bleeding Forest and that day back home. My breath catches. But Davien isn’t so off guard that he can’t manage a snarl.

“Butcher of Boltov,” he growls and lunges to attack.