Chapter 13

Brea stumbled through the palace, forcing her way past guards wearing her aunt’s colors. She sprinted down a spiral stone staircase, thankful not to have a dress tripping her up. The clothes Neeve procured for her gave her some sense of normalcy. Sure, they weren’t exactly the styles she’d have worn on the farm, but close enough.

Her breath rattled in her lungs as she kept running down the long hallway. Servants scurried out of her way as she rushed out the double doors that stood open to the long bridge crossing the river to the rest of the palace grounds. The waterfall crashed to her right, sending a spray of water into the air.

The forest closed in on her as she crossed the bridge, careful not to look over the sides into the depths below. The horse stables stood shrouded in vines at the far edge of the property with a paddock out front. Riders came and went while stable boys led horses from their stalls.

It looked nothing like Myles’ farm, but the smell—of horses and hay—allowed her to imagine she was back there where she’d felt safe. Any moment Captain America would walk into the paddock with her new colt by her side. She’d give Brea a look in that understanding way of hers that made her want to spill all her secrets.

Entering the bustle of the long stables, Brea inhaled deeply, her fingers twitching as if she could feel Myles’ hand in hers. A familiar head appeared, snorting when it saw her.

Maisie, the sweet horse she’d ridden from Griff’s house. The house she never should have left.

Everything she says is a lie.

That had to have been a message from Neeve, but then why would she deny it? And what did it mean? The kind and welcoming aunt she’d come to love was lying to her? About what?

That same aunt wanted to marry her to Griff to make him king. It was the reason she’d been brought from the human realm. Could she trust nothing that had happened since her arrival?

“Hey Maisie.” She reached the stall and unlatched it before slipping inside and shutting the door.

Fresh hay was spread over the ground. “Nice digs, Mais.” She approached the horse, running her hand along her smooth neck. “Looks like they’re taking good care of you.”

Just like her. That was the problem. She’d been well taken care of, having everything given to her on a silver platter—literally. But now she wondered if she was in a cage just like Maisie with no say in her future.

“What would Myles say about all of this?” she whispered, not sure if she was talking to the horse or herself. He’d probably tell her to do whatever it took to be free. That she didn’t owe these people anything just because they took her away from a bad situation in the human realm.

But still, she felt she owed them everything. Her love. Her loyalty. Her life?

Sliding down the wall, she sat in the hay and looked up at the beautiful beast, the only thing here that could possibly remind her of home. Tears built in her eyes and a wind whipped through the stall, pulled by the magic she now knew was tied to her emotions. Would it ever go away?

She didn’t want power.

The wind intensified.

She just wanted control of her own body again. Was that so much to ask?

Sniffling, she held in the tears.

“Brea?” Griff’s voice sounded far off as the magic buzzed in her ears. “Brea!”

Strong hands shook her, and she looked up into Griff’s worried face, a face she’d kissed only hours before. Now, she wanted him to leave her alone.

“Pull the magic back in!” he shouted.

It was only then she realized Maisie was cowered in the corner of the stall. Seeing fear in the horse, the string pulling her magic snapped and the wind died.

Brea slumped back against the wall.

Griff crouched in front of her, his arms resting on his knees. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“What do you want from me, Griff?” There was no strength to her voice, only resignation.

“Brea.” He scratched the back of his head. “I—”

“Need me? Yeah, I’ve been told.” She pushed away from the wall and got to her feet.

“Where are you going?”

“Away.” She shoved open the stall door and stomped from the barn, anger burning along her skin. But if she let this magic out, she feared she wouldn’t be able to pull it back in.

Griff ran after her. “Talk to me.”

She reached the bridge and turned on her heel to face him. “I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say!” She had to shout to be heard over the waterfall.

“What’s going on? This morning, we—”

“This morning was a lie. Everything is a lie. Me. You. My aunt.”

“Okay, slow down. What happened between when you left me this morning and now?”

So, he hadn’t spoken to her aunt. With a grunt, she turned and stomped across the bridge. She entered the palace, the noise from the falls dying down as she walked deeper inside. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have where they could be overheard.

By the time they reached her rooms, her anger had lessened, leaving her with the sinking feeling of being alone in a world that was not her own. She’d have given anything to have Myles with her.

Griff shut the door and approached her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Number six. When you get angry, your lip juts out stubbornly, and all I want to do is kiss the frown away.” He leaned in, but Brea sidestepped him.

“Do you really want to kiss me, Griff, or is that what you’re supposed to make me believe?”

“Why would you say something like that?”

She turned to the window, looking out on the realm she’d marveled at only a day before. Now, Fargelsi had lost its shine for her. She’d longed to belong here, but she wondered if she ever truly would.

Griff put a hand on her shoulder and she let him, having no more energy to push him away. She turned into his embrace, burying her face in his shirt. “Tell me the truth,” she whispered. “There’s no prophecy about me.”

“Brea—”

“Why did you really come to the human realm for me?”

When he didn’t respond, she lifted her eyes to his. “It was so you could become king, right? You needed someone with my aunt’s bloodline to make you a legitimate contender.”

He released her and stepped away. “You don’t understand.”

“I think I do.”

“Regan is my queen. She has been a mother to me. That throne is rightfully mine.”

“And what of me, Griff?”

“I lo—”

“Don’t say it!” Her hands vibrated in anger. “I swear to God, Griffin O’Shea. If you tell me you love me right now, I’m going to punch that pretty face of yours.”

“I never expected to feel this way about you.”

A harsh laugh pushed past her lips. “Oh, that’s rich. You don’t get to be this guy. The one who says everything he did was for my own good.”

“You were being arrested when I found you.” He scrubbed a hand across his face.

“No.” She shook her head. “I was in jail when your brother found me, not you. Was I just a game to the two of you? Some competition?” She calmed her breathing and jolts of magic leaked from her fingertips, sending sparks across the floor. “I know why you came for me, but Loch? How does he play into all of this?”

“I don’t know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Do you even know what that is?”

A knock sounded on the door and a gruff voice filtered through. “Lord Griffin, are you okay in there?”

“Yes,” Griff called back.

Brea pressed herself back against the cool window. “How did they know you were in here?”

Or that they were arguing? She thought of Neeve’s odd behavior when she brought up the message or the fact that she’d resorted to covert methods instead of speaking to Brea in the ample private time they had. Lifting her eyes to the vines creeping along the ceiling, she looked for any kind of listening devices. But this wasn’t like back home where they’d use cameras and recording devices.

No, here, magic could be anywhere.

She stepped toward Griff, forcing him back.

“My aunt is listening to me.” Her jaw clenched.

“That’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is. Anything is possible here.” She could see it in his expression, in the tightening of his eyes, the flattening of his lips. The truth. He’d known. “I need to be alone.” If she didn’t step away from him, she’d lose her minimal control over the power inside her.

“Brea—”

“Go!” The word roared out of her, a command more than a request.

Griff’s shoulders dropped, and he stared at her for a moment longer. “Not everything was a lie.” The words were so quiet she almost missed them.

When he was gone, she slumped onto her bed, the tension leaving her body as she sucked in a few deep breaths.

Nothing could be as perfect as this new life seemed. She should have known they didn’t want her around for her. It was all a scheme.

As a little girl, she’d never dreamed of being a princess or living in a palace. She’d only wanted to be as normal as everyone else, to have a family who loved her.

But that had been too good to be true.

How much of what Griff told her was a lie? She sat up, an impossible thought coming to her. Would he really lie to her about that? Loch’s words came back to her, and she had to know.

Wiping tears from her face, she left her room, holding her head high as she made her way down the now familiar hall. Only this morning she’d been so happy making her way back from Griff’s rooms.

It took no time at all for that bubble to shatter.

She rapped her knuckles against his door and leaned back on her heels.

He took his time opening the door. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. “I thought you didn’t want to see me.” Hope tinged his voice.

She pushed past him into his room. “Is my aunt listening to what happens in this room too?”

Griff shut the door. “No. We can talk freely here.”

Relief washed over her. It creeped her out to think of her aunt listening to everything that had gone on in this room. She hugged her arms across her chest, afraid of the question she’d come to ask.

Griff clasped his hands behind his back, nerves flitting across his face.

“I will marry you,” Brea said.

A smile spread across his lips. “You will? Truly?”

“Yes, but I have one condition. There is a question I need you to answer honestly. You owe me this after all the lies. That is my bargain. A marriage for an answer. Do you agree?”

“Of course. I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I want you by my side as we rule this kingdom.”

“I never wanted to rule a kingdom—or get married at seventeen for that matter. You’d have known that if you bothered to ask. Instead, you plotted with my aunt to get what you want. But I’m starting to see that’s how this world works. You fae are worse than humans, and I never thought that was possible.”

His smile fell, replaced by a look of sorrow. Some part of her wanted to comfort him, but the fondness she’d felt only hours ago was gone, replaced with wariness.

“Ask me your question, and I will answer honestly.” He reached for her, but she stepped away to gather herself.

“Is…” She closed her eyes. “Is Myles alive?”

She opened her eyes when he didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed and he took a step back, widening the space between them. “Lochlan put this notion into your head.”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t sugar coat it for him. “But he was right, wasn’t he?”

Griff sighed, his shoulders tense. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

He ran a hand through his auburn hair. “When we left the human world, he’d been taken to the hospital. I do not know what happened to him after that.”

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs cried out for air, and she bent over clutching her chest. Angry tears washed down her face. “You… you told me he died, and you didn’t even check?”

But Lochlan had. The grumpy Eldur delegate must have gone back to the human realm to find out what happened to her best friend, the only person who’d ever truly loved her.

“Myles is alive.” But could she trust Lochlan’s words?

She wiped a hand across her damp cheek. Griff didn’t deserve her tears, but they weren’t for him anyway. Myles’ smile flashed through her mind. What if she hadn’t killed him?

He had to still be alive.

Straightening, she hardened her expression. “You and I are not friends, Griffin O’Shea. I will marry you and give you legitimacy, but that is all. I could have forgiven the lies about your motive in bringing me here or even the eavesdropping in my rooms. But Myles… that lie is not one I will ever move past.” She walked to the door.

“Brea,” Griff called, his voice thick. “Please.”

She paused before opening the door. “I am not some fae girl who will fall at your feet and beg to be queen. I don’t care if half my blood is of this world. I am human, and we make decisions for ourselves.”

Calling on the magic she still didn’t understand and still couldn’t control, she blasted through the door, sending wood splintering against the wall in the hallway.

As she stepped across the broken frame, she looked back over her shoulder. “You will never control me.”

###

The day after her fight with Griff, Brea woke with little energy. The triplets brought in her breakfast, setting it on her bed as they’d learned she liked. Their shared looks told her they must have heard what happened the day before.

They didn’t dare bring it up in a room where privacy was only an illusion.

“Where is Neeve?” She pushed the food around on her plate, having no real appetite.

“The queen wanted her to help down in the kitchens,” Triplet One said, her voice way too high this early in the morning. She leaned in. “She’s the only servant Queen Regan really trusts, and with the farewell dinner for the Iskalt delegation tonight, she wanted Neeve overseeing preparations.”

It surprised Brea that the delegation from Iskalt was still there when the Eldur people left right after the festival. They’d been meeting behind closed doors with her aunt, but Brea knew so little about the fae world relations she couldn’t begin to guess why.

Triplet Two bounced on her toes as she twisted a long lock of blond hair around her finger. “There’s a rumor around the palace that you’re to marry Lord Griffin.”

“He’s perfect,” the third girl sighed.

Sure, perfect if one wanted a lying, manipulative, power seeker. But she couldn’t tell them he only wanted her as a means to get the crown. “We haven’t announced the engagement yet.”

“Don’t wait too long.” Brea lost track of which triplet said what. “There are plenty of noblewomen who’d gladly take your place.”

Brea would happily let them. If she had her way, she’d never have to see Griff again.

Unable to take more of this inane chatter, Brea got out of bed and rummaged through her armoire. “I must go see my fiancé.”

“Fiancé,” one of the girls giggled. “That’s a funny word.”

“Oh, um, I mean betrothed.”

“You won’t find him at the palace.” One of the girls pursed her lips. “I heard from one of the guards who heard from a servant of Lord Griffin’s that he left early this morning on a mission for the crown. He won’t be back for a week at least.”

“He… left?” She agreed to be his wife, and he left without a word the next morning?

“Yes, the guard said it was a matter of utmost importance, but a secret mission nonetheless.”

She couldn’t imagine what would take Griff away from the palace. He’d told her since they arrived that one day he’d have to return to his cottage because palace life wasn’t for him. But that had only been another lie.

“No matter.” She abandoned the dress she’d planned to wear to speak with Griff in favor of the outfit Neeve brought for her the day before. Turning back to the triplets, she raised a brow. “I’m going to change.”

They didn’t budge.

“Erm… please go. If I need you later on, I’ll call. I mean, I’ll send someone to fetch you.”

“Yes, your Highness.” They each curtsied before skittering from the room.

Brea stared after them, their “your Highnesses” ringing in her ears. She wasn’t meant for such a title, and if she had a say, she would never hear them utter it again.

It was time to stop lamenting her situation and act on it.

Changing into the comfortable clothes quickly, she hurried from the room and took the winding path through the palace, across an open-air bridge, and down a spiral staircase into the palace kitchens.

A cook looked up when she entered, a scowl on her plump face. “This isn’t the place for you, my Lady.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just looking for someone.”

“Well, look elsewhere. We’re quite busy this morning.” She went back to her task.

Others paid her no mind as she skirted the outer edge of the grand network of rooms where cooks and bakers plied their trade. Servants rushed through with trays laden with fruits, pastries, and pots of tea, no doubt attending to the many nobles currently residing at the palace.

“The queen isn’t going to like that.” Neeve’s strong voice cut through the bustle as she chastised one of the cooks in front of a boiling pot of sauce. “She’ll want more Gelsi berries in the sauce.”

Gelsi berries? The same fruit that dampens magic?

Neeve’s gaze found Brea and her eyes widened. She wiped her hands on the white apron tied to her waist and rushed toward Brea. “My Lady, you should not be down here.”

“I needed to talk to you, and it couldn’t wait.”

Neeve looked back over her shoulder at the cooks before gesturing for Brea to follow her around the corner into a storage room. She shut the door, sending them into semi-darkness.

“Are they putting Gelsi berries in the food?” It was the first question to escape her lips.

Neeve nodded, glancing at the door. “Queen Regan dampens the powers of all those staying within her walls. It is how she keeps such tight control—especially when foreign delegations are present.”

Was that why Brea had only had a few outbursts here in the palace? Back in the human realm, she’d constantly felt on the brink of losing control.

“But then…”

Neeve must have sensed what she meant to ask, because she answered. “Your magic must be quite powerful with the few times you’ve been able to use it.”

Brea shook her head to clear it. This wasn’t why she’d come. “Tell me the truth. The warning in the caramel sauce was you.”

Neeve nodded.

“Lochlan said I could trust you, but I don’t know if I can believe what he says. Everyone is lying to me.”

Neeve met her gaze. “Lochlan O’Shea does not lie. He’s a lot of things, but when he speaks, you can believe him.”

“And his brother?”

“That’s more complicated.”

“I’m supposed to marry him.”

“You can’t,” Neeve whispered before collecting herself. “There’s so much you don’t know, but I can’t be the one to tell you when I only know bits.”

“I can’t stay here, can I?” Not when they’d lied to her and tried to trap her. Her aunt seemed kind and caring, but now Brea realized she didn’t know her at all.

Neeve shook her head. “It’s not safe for you.”

“I have nowhere else to go.” She wanted to go back to Myles, but a jail cell waited for her in the human world.

“You do.” Neeve gripped her arms. “There is one place in this world you’ll be safe.” She implored Brea to believe her with her eyes. “You need to get to Eldur.”

Brea backed away from her. Eldur. The fire kingdom with an evil queen and most-probably dragons. “I can’t go to Eldur.”

“You must. Do not believe what you have been told. The beauty of Fargelsi is a trick meant to make the beholder trust in their safety. There is no safety to be had here for anyone. We are all trapped, but you have a chance to be free. You must take it. For all of us.”

“What do you mean you’re trapped? Can’t you come with me?”

She shook her head, her eyes shining. “We don’t have time to explain. There is a pathway through the marshes of the Southern Vatlands. I can take you only part of the way before I must return to the palace. The marshes lead across the border into Eldur where a contingent of the Fire Queen’s soldiers stand guard.”

“Why are they in the Vatlands? I thought those were neutral zones.”

“They’re there for the rare occasion I can get people out of Gelsi. Only those without full Fargelsi blood can cross the borders and the Eldurians protect them. You must navigate the marshes until you reach their camp. With them, you will be safe.”

“When do we leave?”

Neeve offered her a sad smile. “Tonight. You will leave the farewell dinner for Iskalt early, claiming you are ill. I’ll attend to you. Lord Griffin is away from the palace at present, so this gives us an opportunity. I’ll put together some food for you and procure a horse to get you to the Vatlands. You cannot pack anything else.”

Brea breathed heavily as she tried to calm her racing heart. “I’m scared, Neeve.”

Neeve’s expression softened, and she put a hand on each of Brea’s shoulders. “You are a human girl traversing these strange fae times. If you were not scared, I would think Fargelsi is where you truly belonged.”

“What does that mean?”

“That being scared will keep you safe. Here in this court of never-ending spring and beauty, we live in a perpetually emotionless state. Everything is for show. You aren’t one of them, Brea. I knew that the moment I first met you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, you know.” Not on the eve of fleeing from the place she’d wanted to call home.

Neeve smiled. “Just remember—at dinner, don’t eat any of the sauces. No matter how untaught your power is, you will need the full strength of it in the marshes.” She opened the door, gave Brea one final encouraging look, and slipped out.

Brea leaned her head back against the wall. How had everything gotten so messed up in such a short period of time?

Oh right… the man she’d thought she was falling in love with lied to her about the death of the only true friend she’d ever had.

She glanced at the door Neeve disappeared through.

Until now.

The maid would probably deny it, but no one risked themselves for someone else unless they cared.

Lifting her eyes to the dark stone ceiling of the cool storage room, she sighed. “I will find out what happened to you, Myles,” she whispered. “If it’s the last thing I do.”

~~~