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WE SET OFF A SHORT while after. The Winter Queen had provided me, my mother, and Logan with an armed escort of Winter Knights, who had promised to take us to the Crystal River. From there, we would swim across to our world.
“It's an amazing experience,” my mother said. “Even better, perhaps, when you're heading the other way.”
It had been six weeks since I had left home, and in that time I felt myself to have been immeasurably changed. What would home be like? After all, I would return to school – to extracurricular activities and bullies in the locker room, to a world without myth, to a world without Kian. I did not know how I would explain my absence, or whether I would ever be able to fit into my new life. Clariss and the other mean girls seemed so far away – the troubles they had given me so insignificant now.
We rode onwards towards the morning.
I was exhausted. I had not slept in days, and while the ball had been lovely, it had also proved tiring. My fight with Kian had taken the smile off my face, and my cheeks were white and hollow. I had promised myself that I wouldn't cry, but as we continued on ahead I found my resolve slipping every now and then, so that I had to forcibly restrain myself from succumbing to the tears rising and dissolving in my throat.
“All set?” asked Logan, putting an arm around me. He had not realized what had happened with Kian, and as I saw the broad, proud smile set across his face, I realized that he didn't know how I was feeling, either. I didn't want to have to explain to him that, even in the mortal realm, I wasn't ready to be involved with him – that I probably would never be ready.
“All set,” I said, forcing my face into a brave smile.
“We'll have so much fun back home,” said Logan. “I promise you, Bree! We'll make dinner together every night – tacos and tortilla chips, or even your favorite couscous with chickpeas and apricots.”
“And almonds,” I added mechanically. “Don't forget the almonds.”
“I won't,” said Logan emphatically. “I promise.”
“Will you come back here?” I asked. “As a Wolf?”
Logan shrugged. “It is the way of my people to go back and forth,” he said. “But I only need to really come here during the full moon, so that I can be a wolf without frightening the other normal people.” He smiled. “They don't know about people like us.”
“Do you love Feyland?”
“No,” said Logan. “I'm here because I have to be. But my home is in Gregory – with my friends, with you. Feyland is just a place I have to go to avoid terrorizing the neighborhood.”
“How can you say that?” I said, with more anger than I realized I wanted to let on. “You got to grow up here, to go back and forth, to be part of both worlds – how can you not appreciate that? You're so lucky – getting to go back whenever you want!”
“I don't know, then!” said Logan roughly. “I guess I don't have someone like Kian to keep me coming back.”
“That's not fair,” I said, but I knew that what I was saying was untrue. Logan's anger was entirely justified.
“Besides, you don't belong here,” said Logan. “You're an outcast here – a princess in exile. The Summer Queen will probably live on for hundreds more years – you'll probably never get to go back. You only really belong in Gregory.”
“Maybe I don't belong anywhere,” I said, grimacing. I didn't want to get into a fight, but in the mood I was in I found it difficult to avoid an argument.
“Maybe,” said Logan, shuffling and looking down.
His silence unnerved me. I hadn't meant to hurt him – only to try to force him to realize how I felt, how much I wanted from him.
Before I could apologize, however, we heard the trumpeting of horns from afar
We turned around to see what the commotion was. We caught sight of the familiar scarlet banners and golden shields of the Summer Court. For a second, I froze. Had the Summer Queen reneged on her agreement to let us go safely? Was there to be a skirmish between Summer and Winter factions directly in front of me? I gave a nervous gulp.
But then I caught sight of the white flag buoyant above the fray, held up by a noble-looking man with long golden hair and a powerful, rugged expression. Even in Feyland, I knew, the sign meant peace. These men meant us no harm.
I took another look at the man holding the banner. There was something strange about him, almost familiar – his lustrous locks, the diffident humor in his eyes, a twinkle beaded in the blue of his irises. I knew him, and yet I could not place him. It was only when I saw the look on my mother's face – a look of longing, of bitterness, above all of love – that I realized that looking into his face was like looking into a mirror. I knew this man. He was Frank Foxflame.
He was my father.
I couldn't move. I gripped the reins of my horse so tightly that my hands began to tremble. I had dreamed often of my father – unable to put a face to the idea, or even, for so long, a name. I'd always been told that my father was a one-night stand, a passing in the night, insignificant. My mother was my real parent – my father had only ever been an illusion. But here he was in front of me, half myself and entirely beautiful, his stature the overwhelming confidence that came out of fairy blood, and noble fairy blood at that.
“All hail the Summer King!” cried one of the standard-bearers!
“All hail the Summer King!” came the reply from the other Summer Soldiers.
We stopped short. The Winter Knights made cursory displays of respect, their eyes scanning the Summer Court soldiers for any sign of betrayal or untrustworthiness. My mother dismounted her steed, trembling as she approached.
“Frank...” she whispered, her voice searing with pain.
“Raine...” He stopped himself just in time. “My lady. It is an honor to see you again.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them.
And then he caught sight of me.
His eyes crinkled in delight – the rough, brash, golden man of a moment ago vanished, and in the place of his former arrogance I saw his overwhelming delight, his joy at seeing his daughter for the first time in almost fourteen years.
“Are you...” he asked me, holding out his arms.
“Your Highness,” I said abruptly, dropping to my knees in a curtsey. I didn't know what else to call him.
“My daughter?” He strode towards me and cupped his hand around the contours of my face. “Raine...she looks so much – you look so much like your mother, child.”
I could see the tears in my mother's eyes.
“Thank you,” I said. My voice was trembling. I wasn't sure how to feel yet. I felt that I was supposed to run into his arms, to hold him tightly and tell him that I was so glad to meet my father at last – but truth be told, I wasn't. It didn't move me. It felt strange, surreal – as if this man were an imposter. My mother had for sixteen years been the only parent who mattered – the one who had taken care of me, had clothed me and fed me and loved me and listened to my stories of Clariss bullying me at school. Who was this man, who had barely even met me, who had barely even spoken to me, who hadn't seen me in fourteen years, to call me his daughter?
And yet I could see how my mother could have fell for him. He was charming, passionate – beautiful, his age only adding to the strength and power of his virile frame. He looked more like a lion than a man, with his tawny golden mane and ruddy complexion, and the pulsing muscles at his forearms.
“Your Highness,” I said again.
So this was the man for whom Redleaf's heart had broken, for whose sake I was banished from Feyland.
I couldn't help it. I was angry at him. I didn't even know him and yet already I was angry at him.
“I have come,” said Frank, drawing himself up to his full considerable height. “To request, Raine, that the Princess Breena be commended to the Summer Court.”
Logan's mouth fell open. “What?”
“But the Summer Queen...” I started, before realizing that this might not be the most tactful approach. “We're banished!”
“Need I remind you,” said my father, “that I have final jurisdiction over all decisions made in my kingdom. For years now I have allowed the banishment, knowing it was the best thing for all involved if...my wife could produce an heir. But she has not. And you are the sole heir to the throne – and you are my daughter – and I refuse to let you live in that poor shambles they call the mortal world. She is a princess of the royal blood, Raine!”
I couldn't help but sympathize with Redleaf. She had run her country on her own for years, and yet in the end it was her husband who had the power to overturn all her decisions on a whim.
“But she won't allow it...” I protested.
“Yes, she will.” He sighed. “I have returned from my travels. I will be spending far more time around the Court. And Redleaf would not dream of allowing you to come to any harm when it is my express order that you be seated in the place of highest honor in the Summer Court banquets, and that you be treated with as much respect as any true member of the Summer Line is due.”
Poor Redleaf had always been of the Autumn Line – a stranger among strange people. What would it be like for her – to be publicly humiliated in this way?
And yet Foxflame's voice softened. “My wife knows a great deal about duty,” he said. “She is the most dutiful woman I know. And it is for this reason that I am sure that she will be safe. For she has long since put up with the arrangement circumstances have forced upon her. And she knows that you are the only chance the Summer Court has at producing an heir. I will not take another concubine – after your mother – and Redleaf has no desire for me to take another wife.”
Circumstances didn't force it on her, I thought. You did. I couldn't help feeling that I didn't like my father very much. Waves of anger came over me.
So, I thought to myself. This is what adults were really like, after all. As selfish and manipulative and petty as teenagers. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to be loyal to my mother – and yet I couldn't help but respect Redleaf, to pity all that she went through. And here was this man, claiming to be my father, demanding my allegiance and respect by virtue of my fairy blood.
I wanted to give it to him. But somehow I knew that my feelings would take time.