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Chapter 11

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BEFORE THE CELEBRATION feast was to begin, we were given a few hours to rest, relax, and perhaps most importantly, to bathe. I had not had access to running water since the palace of the Summer Court, and I smelled precisely like I'd been trekking through the wilderness for a week and battling Pixies – I could still smell the moat on me, the dolphins. How had Logan managed to kiss me when I was quite so disgusting, I wondered half-heartedly as I soaked myself in an enormous bathtub, scrubbing every last bit of dirt out of my hair and skin. His devotion touched me, even as it made me wary.

My mother, for her part, seemed entirely at ease in the guest room to which we were assigned – chiding me for leaving my clothes on the floor and for not having folded them. They were so caked and crusted with mud that for my part I would have been happy to never see them again – and paced the room while I bathed – I could see her silhouette going back and forth from behind the changing-screen that divided my bath from the rest of the room.

When at last I had scrubbed every trace of dust and grime from my body, I wrapped myself in a blue silk dressing gown and sat down next to my mother.

I couldn't help it; I started crying.

I had been fighting so long and so hard for so long – I had risked being the bride of a pixie king, risked death and kidnapping and war and creatures in the Summer Queen's dungeons – and seeing her sitting there before me, as kind and beautiful as she had ever been, filled me with tender sadness, and made me realize precisely how tired I had been.

“Mommy,” I murmured into her shoulder. I wondered what the Winter Queen would think of me – acting like a child, an immature child who needed to be saved. Shasta surely was given no such luxury on her return. But it felt good to be sixteen again, to relax for just a while as my mother stroked my hair and wrapped her arms around me.

“I'm so sorry, Bree darling,” she said. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

I didn't have the strength to be angry at her for that.

“Mommy,” I whispered again.

“Listen, Bree,” said my mother, taking my hands in hers. “I want to tell you everything – okay? Do you want to listen? Or do you want to sleep?”

“No,” I said. “I want to know.”

She kissed my forehead. “I came to Feyland because I knew the Winter Queen was looking for you. I knew giving myself up as a hostage would stop the Queen from looking for you. I understand what a mother is going through – I knew I would not be harmed. She may be a fearsome ruler, but she is a wise and kind one – and she does love her daughter very much. When you are older, perhaps, you will understand that; I know she does not make it as clear as I might. But that is the Fairy way.” She laughed darkly. “That has always been the Fairy way. But then the Winter Prince came to find you...”

“He was kind!” I said. “You don't have to worry about that.”

“I am worried about that,” said my mother. “But not because he is the Winter Prince.” She smiled. “But rather because he is the first...and the first love is something special.”

“Was my father your first love?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “No – not the first. I went to college – studied art – met lots of boys. Even fell in love with some of them. But when I was a senior, I met someone strange – someone different. A student in my arts class. And his paintings were so magical, so beautiful – so different – that I felt that he must be possessed of a special genius, to be able to see a universe so alive with beauty, to imagine it.

“As it turns out, he was painting from memory. So – maybe he wasn't so much of a genius after all. But he was talented.” She stroked my hair. “And you, Bree, have inherited that talent.”

“What was his name?”

“Well – in the Fairy kingdom he was known as Foxflame. But of course when he snuck into the mortal realm to go flirt with mortal women, he went by another name. He called himself Frank.”

“Frank Foxflame,” I said.

“Quite a contrast. Now, he'd dated lots of mortal girls – Frank was known as a bit of a womanizer. But then he and I met...and it was different, with us. We fell in love. And after we'd been dating for about six months Frank told me his secret. He was a fairy – and not only a fairy, but in fact the younger son of the Fairy Queen of the Summer Court! And life was carefree and wonderful with us. As a fairy prince, he had few expectations on him – he wasn't the Crown Prince, after all – and after the initial surprise I grew to love Feyland – because I loved him.

“Feyland was different in those days, Bree. It was softer – kinder. And as an artist, I found that my ability to paint and dream and create beautiful things was immeasurably increased by the time I spent there. But then Frank's brother – his older brother, the Crown Prince – was killed by the Pixies, and Frank had to become king.

“This meant marrying his brother's fiancée Redleaf of Autumn – the Autumn Kingdom had recently become a vassal of Summer, and having Redleaf as Summer Queen would help to keep that peace. I encouraged him to do it. It was only an arranged marriage, we thought. He was not required to love her.

“But we were selfish, Bree. We forgot one thing. And that was the chance that she might love him. We never realized it – we thought...we thought it was just politics for her. But she was a young girl in a strange land – far from her home, which had already lost its sovereignty - whose husband was carrying on with a mortal woman...

“And then when you were born, there were more problems still. Redleaf could not bear children – not an uncommon ailment among fairies – but the Autumn Kingdom would not stand for a half-human heir to the throne. And your power was strong – you repelled a kelpie when you were still in the cradle! It was a dangerous power. And then Autumn was perhaps going to revolt...we needed to get out of the way, to let it at least look like Redleaf would represent Autumn interests on the throne....”

Politics! I thought bitterly. Always politics! No matter what, the only thing anyone in fairyland seemed to care about was marriages and treaties, uprisings and revolts and wars.

“So we were banished. It was so hard for your father to do it – I don't blame him. He had been selfish for so long – we both had – choosing our love over the good of an entire nation. And in the end we realized it was best to separate – that if Redleaf could perhaps bear an heir that you would cede your right to the throne, or at least return after years of absence, when the problems with Autumn came down.

And then came the war with Winter...” my mother's voice trailed off. “What a strange life we lead, my child. So strange indeed.”

“Did you love my father?” I asked her.

“Yes. Almost too much. More than I loved anything else. A dangerous love. I forgot my principles; I forgot everything. I only felt love – love strong enough to let me survive the perils of his fairy kiss. But there is someone I love more than your father, Bree.”

“Who?” I asked her.

“You. When I became a mother, I realized that for the first time I had to live for you – and not just for me. And I wanted to raise you well, with good values. I wanted to raise you to do what is right, and not what is easy; I wanted to raise you to be brave as well as good. The choices I made were mine. And I had true love – but I also caused a woman – the Summer Queen – great pain. I also nearly risked a war. In the end it was my choice to leave Feyland – and your father. I told him to banish me. Because I didn't want you growing up to learn that your feelings meant more than another's – that your love was so important that nobody else mattered.”

“You sound like the Fairies,” I said.

“They have a point,” my mother said. “But they have magic – and when love and passion are involved, magic is all the more dangerous. Imagine what would happen in our world if everyone in love had magic powers. There would be murders, duels, explosions, love spells – chaos!”

“Chaos,” I said. 

“So I left your father. I still love him. But in my heart I know I made the right choice,” said Raine. “Because I love you more. You are the most important person in my life.”

I thought of Logan and Kian. Was I being selfish, leading both of them on?

“But how did you know to do the right thing?” I asked her.

“I knew it in my heart.”

I told her about the problems with Logan and Kian; she laughed.

“My little girl is getting so beautiful,” she said. “Of course you have men falling over themselves for you. But you're so young! You're only sixteen.”

I nodded.

“Here's my advice for you, little girl. Wait. Don't feel you need to fall in love all at once. Because when you're sure – you'll be sure. Whether it's Logan, Kian, or someone else – you'll know. And don't act on your feelings unless you're sure.”

I thought of my feelings for Logan, and of my uncertainty. It seemed so much clearer when my mother said it.

“Why are you always so right,” I asked her, unable to repress a grin at the corner of my mouth.

“I'm your mother,” she said, smiling. “That's my job. I take care of you.” She stroked my cheek. “Whether it's fairies or pixies or boys.”

I leaned my head on her shoulder. It was good to be home again.