Why did everyone in this fracking fae world lie?
Brea still couldn’t believe the fantasy life she’d fallen into. Okay, more like been dragged into kicking and screaming. She shook her head to rid it of thoughts that would inevitably lead back to the biggest liar of them all. The man who’d claimed she was the subject of a prophecy. Prophecy-schmophesy. It didn’t exist.
Her hands tightened around the steaming cup on the table in front of her as she focused on this moment’s lie. “And what do you call it?” She looked to the bear of a man sweeping the floor with an ancient bristly broom that looked like it belonged in a bedraggled Cinderella’s hands instead of this giant. Did giants exist in Eldur? Maybe he was a half giant—like Hagrid.
“What?” She hadn’t heard the answer he gave her.
“Girl.” The man she’d come to know as Xander over the last few weeks leaned the broom against the stone wall and rounded the small wooden tables separating them. He folded himself into a chair that was entirely too small for him. “I wouldn’t begin to guess what a girl like you was doing spending every day out here in the city without an escort.”
“A girl like me?” She grimaced. “What does that mean?”
“A richie.” Adamina singsonged as she bounced from the kitchen at the back of the small tavern. At this early hour, Brea was their only patron.
“Hey, Mina.” Brea gave her a little wave.
Mina set a bowl of sugared oats in front of Brea and another before her father.
Brea took a bite, savoring the simple fare that was a world away from the more robust foods of the palace. “How do you know I’m a…”
“Richie?” Mina crossed her arms over her petite frame. She looked nothing like her larger father. Brea had learned weeks ago that it was just the two of them. Mina’s mother died in childbirth. “It’s the clothes. You won’t find cloth as fine as yours here in the city except on the backs of nobles. Tell us, Brea, which family do you belong to? Is it the Wilsons? They’ve always been so secretive, though Viscount Wilson gets pretty chatty in here over his cups.”
Brea shook her head.
Mina’s eyes lit up, and she flicked them to the cup in front of Brea. “Oh, it’s the Robinsons, isn’t it?”
Brea almost spat oats across the table. How did they know?
Mina kept talking. “The Robinson clan is the wealthiest in the city.”
Oh. Brea released a breath. There was a clan of that name in the fae world.
“That’s why you enjoy Eldur beans so much. They control the Eldur bean trade.”
“Eldur beans?” Brea stared down into the dark molten heaven in her cup. The lie she’d forgotten everyone seemed to be in on. “I was told there wasn’t such a thing as coffee.”
“I don’t know what coffee is, but even as a Robinson clan member, you wouldn’t drink Eldur bean brew.” She leaned in, dropping her voice. “It’s a commoner’s drink.” Her nose wrinkled. “But if you ask me, it’s much better than the tea all you richies drink.”
“Adamina,” Xander chastised. “That is enough. I don’t smell the day’s bread baking in the kitchen yet.”
She held her hands in front of her chest. “I know. I know.” She shot Brea a wink. “We won’t tell your brothers of your taste for Eldur brew when they come in seeking ale this evening.” She bounced away, her bright red hair flowing out behind her.
Xander scrubbed a hand across his face and leaned back in his chair. Now that Mina pointed it out, Brea could see the differences in how these people dressed. Instead of the colorful silks and soft linens used for clothing at the palace, they adorned themselves in worn woolen tunics with no hint of color.
“Please forgive Mina for her intrusiveness.”
Brea shrugged. “I’d be curious about me too.” She drained the rest of her Eldur brew. “Am I really not supposed to be drinking this stuff?”
Xander eyed her, his gaze shrewd. “If you were really of the Robinson clan, you’d know the expectations of society. Brea, you are not much older than my own daughter, and I like you.”
“Um… thanks?”
“But you are here every morning by yourself. Women of an obvious higher station are targets in this part of the city and must be careful.”
Brea tried to see the city as he did. In truth, she loved traversing the streets and wandering through markets full of life. It took her mind from the fact that Lochlan and Finn had been gone for three weeks without so much as a word.
Xander sighed. “Do you not have people worried about you?”
She thought of the woman she’d recently learned was her mother, but Queen Faolan had no time for her when the real people she cared about were gone.
Queen Tierney tried, but there was only so much kindness a person could take before they broke. Well, if that person was her.
“Do you want the truth, Xander?”
He nodded.
“Okay.” She sucked in a breath, preparing herself. “I was a prisoner in Fargelsi for weeks. The queen wouldn’t let me leave, forcing me to escape through the swampy Vatlands where I came face to face with creatures I couldn’t even begin to describe. Finally, I reached Captain O’Shea’s camp and saved them all from a terrible fate.” A little fib never hurt anyone. “I had to fend off enemies from Iskalt and protect the soldiers, eventually taking a sword to the shoulder. It hurt, but not as much as letting the Captain suffer.” She released a fake sob.
Xander stared at her, his mouth dropping open as she continued to sniffle.
“I knew it!” Mina’s squeal came from the kitchen doorway. “We all heard about the girl who escaped Fargelsi, and then you turn up, a stranger in our city.”
“But you thought I was a Robinson.”
She laughed, the sound holding a musical quality. “I’ve known the Robinsons since I was a child. They are frequent visitors to the tavern. You don’t carry their ghastly looks.” She giggled behind her hand. “I just wanted to pull the truth out of you.”
Xander looked from Brea to Mina. “I didn’t hear of an escaped prisoner.”
“That’s because you never leave this box of a tavern, papa.” She plunked herself down across from Brea. “Did you really save Lochlan?” She sighed. “Have you seen his eyes when his magic rises? They’re like an icy spear straight to my heart.”
Xander scowled. “Mina, that is the queen’s man.”
Ignoring Xander, Brea leaned across the table toward Mina. “Did you know he reads?”
Mina fanned her face. “Oh my.”
Brea laughed at the younger girl, enjoying the lightness of the moment. Usually when she thought of Lochlan, it was with a mixture of annoyance and worry. It felt good to chat with Mina as if she were just a friend. Maybe she could be.
Xander pushed his chair back and stood. “Guess I’m making the bread,” he grumbled.
Mina ignored him. “So, you live at the palace?”
“Only because they don’t know what to do with me.” Half-truths. That wasn’t the reason she was there, but it didn’t change how little she fit in those gilded halls with people who rarely smiled.
At least when Griff was lying to her, he made her feel like she belonged.
After telling Mina all about what the palace was truly like, Brea looked up to find patrons walking through the front door looking for their lunch.
“Crap, I’ve been here all morning.” She jumped to her feet.
Mina stood. “Papa is going to be angry with me, but I do hope we see you tomorrow, Brea.”
Brea nodded. In truth, she couldn’t wait. The city and this tavern kept her heart beating when it wanted to freeze in her chest. With a wave goodbye, Brea stepped out onto the busy street. Sandstone buildings rose up before her, each more boring than the next. It wasn’t the mundane architecture of the lower city that breathed life into everything around her, it was the people.
A cart rumbled past, and she jumped out of the way before following the crowd to the market square where people sold their wares. Everything from fresh fruit to home-spun clothing and ceramic dishes.
A butcher slammed a slab of meat onto a table near her, making her jump and clutch her chest. She watched him hack away at it with a cleaver before moving on. One booth caught her eyes. A handmade sign read Eldur beans. She wondered if she could get someone at the palace to make some Eldur brew from them.
Fishing a few gold coins Tierney gave her from her pocket, she approached the vender.
A young man, probably only a few years older than her met her gaze, sliding it down to take in her clothing. “You’re the one who escaped Fargelsi.”
How did he know?
As if sensing her question, he smiled, revealing a wide gap between his two front teeth. “We recognize strangers here.”
“Oh.” She held out two coins, and his eyes widened.
“Do you even know how much money that is?”
She shook her head.
“Enough for this here whole cart of Eldur beans and then some. It’s only two coppers per bag, but I’mma give you one for free.” He smiled again, satisfied with himself. “Anyone who defies Regan of Gelsi is a friend of Ollie’s.” Ollie must be him.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sure I do, miss—”
“Brea.”
He nodded as he reached for a canvas sack and scooped Eldur beans into it. “All right, Brea. Though, with you living at the palace, I dunno what you want with Eldur beans.” He handed her the bag.
“Thank you, Ollie.”
His grin widened. “Hey, Lew,” he called, looking toward one of the other carts. “A richie knows my name.”
She really had to get some new clothes so everyone would stop calling her that. Her parents in Ohio had never been well-off. Compared to Myles’ family, they were poor, and they dressed like it. Eyes followed her as she escaped from the market as fast as she could, uncomfortable with the attention.
If Lochlan were there, he’d bull his way through the crowd, leaving ample space for her in his wake. Finn would probably grab her elbow and make sure she was okay.
But they weren’t there, leaving her alone once more.
Keeping a tight grip of the Eldur beans that would keep her sane in this place, she left the market behind, ducking into a familiar building on her right. Once inside the quiet bookstore, she released a breath and leaned against the door.
“Brea, that you, dear?”
“Fiona.” Brea sighed in relief as she caught sight of the silver-haired woman walking toward her. She’d met the older woman at the palace when Fiona was tidying the library. The queen hired her to rotate the books and keep the selection fresh—with the exception of the human books. Those always stayed.
“Are you okay?” Concern etched into her every feature. “You look stressed.”
She pushed away from the door. “I wonder why.”
Fiona was one of the few people in the city who knew everything—well, almost everything. She didn’t know Brea was the real daughter of Faolan.
“Still no word?” She set the book she was carrying on the front counter.
Brea shook her head. “Not so much as a messenger.” She followed Fiona farther into the two-story store. At the back, a spiral staircase led to the upper stacks, a section Fiona called her human stories. Brea laughed the first time she found all the leather-bound tomes depicting stories about the human world.
She’d told Fiona the humans wrote about fae worlds as well, and they’d both had a good laugh at that. The first laughter Brea felt since learning the truth about her identity.
She was a changeling. Abandoned by her mother to be raised in the human realm where the things she saw and did because of her fae heritage made her an outcast, deemed a lunatic.
She still hadn’t forgiven her mother for that.
And what about Alona? She grew up thinking she was one of the unfortunate fae born without powers, someone destined to join the serving class.
It wasn’t fair to either of them.
“I know what you need, dear.” Fiona led her up the back staircase. “I found a book I think you will enjoy greatly. It is meant for children, but…” She ran a finger over the spines until she came to a book of stories called Humantales. Just like the humans called them fairytales.
A smile spread Brea’s lips as she flipped open the cover and thumbed through pages about princesses and kings that were obviously influenced by real human history.
Fiona put a hand on her shoulder. “Only a few fae clans have ever had the ability to open portals into the human realm, but over the centuries, many stories have filtered out and spawned fables of a world without magic.”
“Why would anyone want stories about a world that didn’t have magic?” She stopped on a page depicting Henry VIII as a benevolent king. It was a love story. She snorted. What would these people say if they knew the real history?
Fiona smiled softly. “We always want to imagine a world different than our own. Magic is not the great force some claim. It destroys just as much as it saves. Sometimes, I wonder if our world wouldn’t be so broken without it.”
“The human realm is broken too, Fiona. You don’t need magic for that.”
Fiona sighed. “The human world has wars and strife, yes, but magic has erased entire kingdoms from the fae world.”
“What?” She snapped the book shut. “There was a fourth kingdom?”
“It serves only as a prison now.” Sadness tinged her eyes. “Magic can sometimes be like dropping a nuclear bomb into a situation that calls for the delicate carving of a knife.”
“Wait… how do you know about nukes?” Brea wracked her brain for anything that made sense. As far as she knew, the fae didn’t have that technology. They didn’t need it with their magic.
Fiona tapped her nose. “Follow me.”
They walked down the stairs and crossed the store to the front counter. Fiona rounded it and reached into a compartment below, pulling free a book. She set it on the counter, and Brea’s eyes widened.
“Where on earth did you get a US history book?” She ran a hand over the cover that showed a map of the country she’d called home most of her life.
“The palace library.”
“You took one of Lochlan’s books?” A smile slid across her face.
Fiona flipped through the pages. “He lets me borrow them as long as the queen doesn’t find out. She only allows him to bring them back from the human realm if he agrees to keep them close. She does not want human books leaving her walls.”
Brea understood immediately. If the people of Eldur read human books, they might make the connection to her. No one could know Lochlan travelled to the human realm.
“Fiona?”
“Yes?” She glanced up, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“You said only some families can create portals. How many are there now?”
“Well, that we know of in the last few decades… two. The Rifkin Clan is the nearest to the prison realm, though, so if travelers wish to pay them for passage, they must traverse those haunted lands. The Eldur courts do not recognize their noble status.”
“And the other?” She already knew the answer.
“The O’Sheas.” She smiled. “There was a time when they ruled Iskalt that the queen and king were great friends of ours. Eldur and Iskalt had an unbreakable bond.”
She swallowed, barely able to breathe. “What happened to them?” She knew Griffin and Loch’s parents died when they were boys. How old had Griff said he was? Two?
Fiona put the book away, a sad set to her shoulders. “They came to visit Queen Faolan. It was a grand visit with balls and banquets. When they left, the future looked so bright. I remember it as if it were yesterday. The rumor was they had a mission for Queen Faolan, but the Queen and King of Iskalt never made it home.”
“They died?” she whispered.
Fiona nodded. “Their bodies were found near the border of Fargelsi. Within months, the King’s brother took the throne and sent Lochlan and Griff to be raised in foreign courts. Most people think it was a show of good faith to keep Eldur from attacking to reclaim the throne for Lochlan. But when her greatest friends died, our Queen seemed to have lost her taste for war.”
Tears hung in Brea’s lashes. “I need to go.”
Fiona called a goodbye, but Brea barely heard her as she rushed out in the blazing Eldur heat.
Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she kept going, barely registering that she’d left the Eldur beans behind. She clutched the humantale book under her arm and rushed through the busy streets, wishing she wasn’t so far from the palace.
All she wanted to do was collapse onto her bed and hide in her room. Because she now knew without a doubt that Lochlan’s parents were dead because of her.