Skye
An evergreen vine crept through the winter snow, weaving between the stone grave markers I’d placed after we regained the castle. Weeks ago, I’d ripped the vine from the ground, but it had returned. Was it an omen? I wrapped the ragged stem around my palm and tugged, pricking and scraping at my skin until it bled and tears blurred my vision. Stupid plant.
The spiky green foliage was out of place among the white and browns of winter. The berries bright as blood against the hand carved stones. Five headstones for five people lost. Well, people I’d thought lost. Two had come back, like the vine. The others I have no memory of. My father, a King who wanted nothing more than to protect his daughter and save his kingdom, I’d barely known. Xander’s parents, Delia and Wells Martin, gave me their last name, their protection, and their lives—yet I recalled nothing of my years with them. Was it cruelty that made Selene erase my past or something more? I brushed the ice from the rounded edge of Xander’s stone.
Since placing these graves, I’d snuck out to the graveyard each afternoon before supper. To think. To clear my mind. To seek direction from those no longer here to guide me. Today it wasn’t helping. My mind was too scattered with thoughts of war and musings of right and wrong. My senses too overloaded with the invisible reminder of my nearby Guardian, and my heart too weary with the pain that belonged to Nickoli. I rested against the rough bark of a tree and closed my eyes.
The warning blast of a horn cut through my peace. Fear quickened my pulse as I waited. One blast equaled visitors, Nickoli told me weeks ago. Two long blasts meant trouble.
When no sound followed the first blast, I sank deeper into the warmth of the thick yellow cape around my shoulders and sighed. The temperature had dropped noticeably in the last few minutes. I glanced at the watercolor sky and found the sun lowered beyond the castle walls, leaving the western ward wreathed in long shadows. Barda lurked in the distance, his watchful eyes trained on me. His red hair fire in the late afternoon sun. Any moment now, he would step forward and urge my return to the castle. Might as well save him a step. I pushed away from the tree and turned toward the castle.
“Vonnedenia.” I stopped in my tracks, breathless at the woman before me.
There was no mistaking her identity. No mistaking the ethereal beauty of the fae. Xander spoke little of the time we spent apart, but he told me of the Ladies of the Glade. They ruled the faerie realm of Elendriel in the northeastern corner of Tyalbrook.
My limbs froze as perfect, pale pink lips formed a knowing smile. She honored me with a regal nod, her voice flat as she said, “The Queen sent to save us all. We meet at last.”
“Skye.” I extended the same bow she offered me.
A trickling laugh escaped her lips as her shocking crystal blue eyes held mine. “You have no need to bow before me, Your Majesty.”
I straightened and studied her. Questions bombarded me. How did she get to me without notice? Were the others here as well?
Her vibrant eyes narrowed. “You have questions, milady. I sense them, and yet I do not know them.” Her head cocked to one side and her luminous white hair tangled about her face in the growing evening gust. “Ask them,” she said, her confusion clear.
“Ask? I don’t know where to begin.” There were so many things.
“Yes, you do. What questions do you seek the answers to when you stand among the graves of your past?” Something about her musical voice was so familiar.
Perceptive woman. My brain flipped through everything Xander told me about his meetings with Vonnedenia—searching for any warnings or hidden meaning—but failed to recall anything of importance. My senses were clouded; my mind muddled by something nameless.
A question spilled from my lips unbidden. “Is the future written in stone?”
Her pale head lifted. “The visions were clear.”
A nonanswer if ever there was one. “They were clear eighteen years ago, yes, but can they be changed? You saw something—”
“We saw a war.” There was no warmth in her tone, the musical lilt was gone.
My fingers drew the edges of my cape closer as a shiver gripped me.
“We saw a bond. A bond that would save us all. And we saw a day when you would rule the kingdom and bring our races together.” Her words were canned, phrased like a narrator repeating a story written for entertainment.
“My mother said your visions were fleeting. Small scenes to a larger picture?” I wanted to understand. I needed to.
Vonnedenia’s lips formed a smile. Movement over her shoulder drew my attention. A familiar silhouette was headed our way. Xander.
And the familiarity of her voice sunk in. Recollection hitting me. “You once told me I would lose all I love if I were to win what I want,” I said as I recalled the words spoken in Sheridan after I was knocked out. They were her words, her musical tone. She was the iridescent white light who visited me in that barn.
“Yes,” she said softly, and I released a relieved breath at discovering one piece of the puzzle.
“Are you saying I cannot change the future? I cannot stop what is happening?” I held back the urge to grasp her arm and rushed my question before Xander reached us.
The glow in her eyes dimmed, an unexpected mourning in the lowering of her lids. “I do not know. Our visions were incomplete, but your prophecy—”
“My prophecy was vague. It was words spoken by an old lady who, like you, seemed to have an incomplete vision. Maybe I can change things.” I argued.
“What is it you wish to change? Do you not want to be the Queen of your kingdom? Do you not want to bring peace to the land, to my kind, to the elves?” Her voice trembled. The unnatural light surrounding her grew until it blinded me.
My hands raised as fear and supplication snuck in. No. I will not be weak again. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “I want peace, but not at the expense of those I love.”
Haughtiness rolled off her. “You do not act like a Queen.”
“You do not know me well enough to make that conclusion.” My retort was met with narrowed eyes.
Xander’s steps picked up as though he sensed the need for urgency. “Vonnedenia!”
The fae’s light dimmed like a candle being snuffed out as she turned. “Ahh, the Guardian.”
“Nice to see you too,” he mocked before his gaze shifted to me. “I’ve been searching for you. We should return to the castle before night falls.” He stepped closer and pressed his hand against the small of my back, gently propelling me.
He was a mess—his clothing covered in caked mud, his face not much better. Of course. He’d battled in the fields. The filth was a reminder of my anger, and I bristled at his nearness and inched away from his touch. Xander dropped his arm with a sigh.
“Any news?” he asked Vonnedenia.
The fae’s head shook slowly. “We returned to Elendriel and scouted the land. There was nothing.”
My stomach dropped. “Nothing?”
“Our land was in ruins, Your Majesty. Our homes and fields razed to the ground. The fae have disappeared.”
Heat rushed my face and tears filled my eyes. The nightmares I had months ago resurfaced. The scenes of horror filled my head making my gut churn. Nothing? My mind was lost in the vision of a land I imagined mirrored the Enchanted Forest filled with fae being killed. It wasn’t a dream, it was reality?
I swayed on my feet. How would I stop this? Xander’s warm presence returned at the small of my back, and this time I didn’t step away.
“There were no bodies, no dead.” Vonnedenia explained.
“How many—” I couldn’t finish the question.
She understood what I couldn’t ask. “We are born in the fae kingdom of Lavernelle, milady. Elendriel and the Glade were small. Home to several hundred fae. No more than a thousand. We do not maintain records as humans do.”
Even one lost was too many, but this was war. “Could your people, um, the fae, have fled to Lavernelle?”
“Some, yes. I have seen the vision. This is part of the prophecy.”
Xander slipped his hand into mine. “We should move inside,” he said, his face close, but his eyes scanned our surroundings as we walked.
The cemetery and western forest were within the walls of Montibello, though outside the main castle wall walk. The Prenn Mountains rose to the north, the castle lay to the east, and to our west was a smooth stone wall that from our side was maybe twelve feet high, but from the outside was every bit of twenty. Unscalable and likely impenetrable. Nickoli told me this castle had stood unscathed for four hundred years. The siege McClintock executed was the first time a Mercier failed to protect his home, and much of that was due to traitors. History would not repeat itself.
“I am safe here, Xander.”
“You are unsafe everywhere, until wards are set that will keep dark magic from this castle.”
Vonnedenia’s curious gaze flicked between us. “Marivale and Violette should already be at work placing wards. Montibello’s vulnerability was clear before we rode through Ridgecrest. There is little magic here.”
Xander agreed. “I had hoped you would arrive sooner rather than later. There are no people of magic blood here, or none that I have sensed. Tabor already snuck into the castle unnoticed once.”
“The girl.” Vonnedenia nodded.
I stopped and Xander tugged at my hand. His effort to keep me moving was futile as I studied Vonnedenia curiously. “You know of Amandalyn?”
“Let me assist my sisters with the protection spells. Take supper and find us later.”
“But—”
Vonnedenia’s blinding illumination returned. The light cut me off a moment before she exploded into thousands of glitter-like particles flying about my face.
“Where? What?” I gasped, my brain unable to process what my eyes saw. “She blew up?”
Xander’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“See that”—he touched my chin, turning my face—“that small, star like glow flying through the trees?”
My body sagged against Xander’s side. My head swam as I followed the glow. “Selene lied to me. There are Tinkerbell fairies in this world.”
He chuckled against my hair. “They don’t change often; it drains their magic here in Tyalbrook.”
I watched the glow disappear. “So their powers are weaker here?”
“I believe so. Griffin alluded to that. He said the fae and elves who left their homelands to live in Tyalbrook are not as powerful as they could be.” Xander’s finger slipped down my neck where he adjusted my cape. “Come,” he pulled me forward once more.
“Why did they come here?” I wondered aloud as we made our way through the snow. “If they’re not as powerful, why would they leave their homeland?”
“I haven’t had time to ask.”
When we reached the stairs leading to the wall walk on the outer wall Xander turned and blocked my path. He wore a half-smile, his height towering over me as he stared down upon me. My hand was still firmly grasped in his and the heat from his touch radiated up my palm and into my arm.
I shivered beneath his penetrating gaze when he made no move to ascend the steps. “It is nearly dark, we should go in,” I urged.
He maintained his stance as Barda stepped out of the tree line and made his way to where we stood. He bowed when he met us at the stairs and Xander dismissed him with a silent nod of his head. My molars ground together as my guard climbed the stairs and left me in Xander’s care. Wasn’t he supposed to follow my orders?
“I received your message earlier,” Xander finally spoke, his tone amused.
“Oh? What message was that?” I asked through clenched teeth, my gaze fixed on the wall.
“You’re angry.”
Stress induced laughter threatened to spill from my lips. “That my Guardian took it upon himself to build an army and train them without speaking to me first? Yes. Yes, I am angry.” My shoulder nudged him aside and I ripped my hand from his.
“This isn’t a game, Skye,” he hissed when my foot hit the first step.
I backtracked. “Do you think I don’t know that?” My fingers clenched into fists at my side. “I am aware of what is at stake here. This is my kingdom. I am the Queen, the ruler. Not you.” My chin lifted an inch as I stretched myself to my full height.
Xander’s lips pursed. He stalled, dragging in a long breath before he flicked at the braided tassels hanging from the fastening of my winter cloak.
“Yes, you rule the people, but I am your Guardian by birth just as you are Queen by birth. I am doing my job. I don’t know what it is you want from me here.”
My head fell forward. Curse him. I wanted a fight, but every time I pushed him, he went and showed his vulnerable side.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said miserably.
“That’s what I’m for.” He tugged at the tassels and stepped closer. His proximity forced my head up. “This is what Rioden and my father trained me for. What my bloodline does.”
“But I don’t want you to lead for me. I’m not a witless woman, I just don’t know where and how to begin.”
His irises glowed an azure blue, nearly as electric as Vonnedenia’s, in the waning light of dusk. “You’re the Queen, Skye. I know you learned the place of queens in history growing up.”
“Yes”—I tugged his hand away from my cape—“They marry a man and let him deal with life’s unpleasantries.”
Xander’s wrist twisted in my grip until he’d laced our fingers together. “Is that what you want? To marry someone and let him deal with everything?” His brow arched quizzically.
The meaning behind his words was clear. The question within his question. He was unsure of where he stood with me, with my heart. I glared instead of answering.
“Well? What do you want to do? I will not allow you to fight in a battle—”
I opened my mouth, ready to protest, and he shook his head. “Don’t argue with me about that. It’s not because I think you weak or incapable. You are too important; your bloodline is too important. I’m not protecting you alone, but your legacy, and Tyalbrook’s future.”
“The Prophecy,” I said, resigned to my path, but those two words were a curse every time they left my lips. I read the omission in his words. He protects me for his sake as much as for Tyalbrook’s.
He cradled my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead and before we finally made our way into the castle and to the hall where supper was underway.
“Where is my mother?” I whispered in Emeline’s ear as I took my seat amongst the Guardians and soldiers Nickoli had ranked high enough to sit at the head table. The seat to my left, typically occupied by Nickoli, was empty as was the setting next to his. Emeline sat to my right with Cillian on her other side. Did Mother speak with him like I asked?
“She took supper in her room with the fae.” Awe gleamed in Emeline’s eyes at our guests.
I surveyed the hall, noting their absence.
“And Nickoli? Do you know where he is?” His absence after our conversation this morning worried me. Emeline shook her head.
We’d yet to adhere to the custom of welcoming nobility to the castle since my coronation. Per Oakes, the castle’s steward, my parents and the kings and queens before them welcomed lofty visitors from near and far to remain in residence for a fortnight at a time. The people were considered the castle’s court. Considering the current state of the kingdom, Nickoli had the guards at the gate refuse visitors once his father was captured and Tabor disappeared. The only guests we’d had since, other than those on my coronation day, were the children from the orphan home in Ridgecrest, the villagers who reported to Oakes on the happenings in town, and the displaced refugees from Florin. And now the fae. So, in lieu of lords and ladies, we dined with soldiers, much to the delight of Emeline and the chagrin of her older brother, Cillian.
Xander arrived in the hall not long after the wine was poured and food delivered. He’d handed me off to another guard on our way in so he could clean up, and I admired the way he looked in his fresh attire as he walked around the smaller of the two tables where the lesser ranked soldiers and castle staff ate. He clasped men on their shoulders and smiled at their words before he joined us on the dais.
“May I?” he asked with a deep bow before he pulled out the chair to my left—Nickoli’s chair—and took a seat. I nodded, my attention drawn to his face and smile. There was a subtle difference in his actions right now, something different about the way he behaved. He seemed more proper. More … regal.
“Emeline,” he acknowledged her presence on my opposite side with a polite smile before glancing about the table. “Gentlemen,” he said with a teasing grin.
Grunts and head nods greeted him as most of the men were busy ripping their crusty bread into chunks and dipping it into the broth bowls before them. These warriors worked up a ravenous appetite today.
I touched the edge of Xander’s sleeve to gain his attention and leaned into his side. The muscles in his jaw flexed as his gaze locked on my fingers, and I froze, then dropped my hand to my lap at his odd reaction.
I felt more than saw him turn toward me, and I focused on the steam dancing off my supper when I spoke. “Emeline said the fae are with my mother.”
No response. I lifted my eyes to his face as he brought a cup to his lips.
“Do you know why they would visit with her before they speak with us? Have they secured the castle? Did they bring news of Tabor?” The questions tumbled from my lips. A vise gripped my thigh beneath the table and I clamped my mouth shut at Xander’s touch.
Reaching for a chunk of bread, he leaned into my space. “I know as much as you do, Skye.” His voice remained low and I dared another peek at his profile. He acknowledged someone across the table, his lips curling into a smile as he chuckled, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He was as frustrated as I was, only he knew better how to cover his concerns. His change in behavior made more sense.
I joined his act, letting my gaze touch upon the men across from me as I whispered out the corner of my mouth. “Should we not be up there?”
With a second squeeze to my thigh, he removed his hand. “I trust them, you should too.”
“I thought we trusted no one.” Griffin was the first to warn me of that.
Xander shifted in his chair and I watched the way he scanned the occupants of our table. The way he played along and responded to something said before he bent close to my ear. “Do not mistake my meaning, milady. I trust no one with your life, but we must trust these people to help win the battle.”
The warmth of his breath skimming the edge of my ear sent a cascade of shivers over my skin. I angled closer, turning my face nearer to the mouth wreaking havoc on my pulse. My fingers curled around my drink, clenching and unclenching. My mind might have struggled with the choice of Xander and Nickoli, but my body knew. My heart made its decision long ago. Xander was a beacon I could not stop reaching for, the— A shout of laughter erupted across the hall and I startled, our bubble broken.
Next to me Xander straightened. “Eat something,” he whispered.
I exhaled deeply and threw myself into the task of eating. I’d lost too much weight while grieving Xander and more since his return. I needed to regain my strength. A deep groan and more laughter reached me as I ripped small chunks from my bread and popped them in my mouth, chewing slowly. Sitting forward at the commotion, I peered down the table. The further I looked, the further from where I sat, the louder and more boisterous the men’s conversations were. Beside and across from us, Emeline, Xander, Cillian, and Pate—Manda’s guard—ate in near silence.
Xander’s forehead wrinkled, when I turned his way and checked the second table over his shoulder. The men were twice as energetic as ours as the conversation and laughter flowed. With a frown, I returned my focus to those at our table.
“You,” I called down the line when there was a lull in conversation. Twenty heads turned my way. My cheeks burned at the attention but I lowered my wine with a deep inhale and pointed toward a bear of a man with salt and pepper facial hair and weathered skin. “Lachlan, right?”
His brows raised as though he were surprised I knew his name. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He leaned forward and dropped his forearms to the table. His deep baritone would shake the acorns off a tree if he were to stand below one and bellow loud enough.
“I understand you men battled on the fields today.” His brown eyes flicked to Xander before he inclined his head wordlessly. “Tell me, Lachlan, what is your favorite weapon in battle?”
The soldier choked and sputtered on the drink he’d lifted to his lips. “Milady?” he asked as confusion deepened the creases around his mouth and eyes.
I swallowed back a giggle. “Do not looked so stunned. I was merely curious about your favorite weapon in battle. I know my Guardian here favors swords and Nickoli favors the bow, as does Cillian, I believe.” I turned to Cillian who nodded his agreement. “I attempted lifting a mace once but barely remained upright…” I trailed off at the look of bewilderment on the men’s faces. A faux pas? Their Queen speaking of weapons? A hush fell over the great hall.
“He favors the spear, milady,” Xander said when the quiet veered on awkward.
My pulse leapt at the low caress in his tone. How does his voice do that to me?
“Isn’t that right, Lachlan? What was it you said about your weapon this morning? She is—”
“She is like a lady. She will pierce your heart with a quick thrust or leave a hole from which you can bleed a nice slow death, but either way she will kill you,” Lachlan finished Xander’s sentence, his lips curling into a smile. He savored his words, closing his eyes like he’d consumed a delicious meal, and a wave of laughter engulfed the occupants of the table.
Emeline and I exchanged befuddled glances.
“Are you saying ladies are deadly?” I asked, taking note of the way Xander’s shoulders shook.
Lachlan agreed immediately. “To the heart and the head, milady.”
“Aye.” The other soldiers grunted their agreement.
Inhaling through my nose, I waited for their laughter to fade. “I am glad we agree then.” I grinned and resumed my meal.
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” Conayn, a young man of Guardian blood who’d never been trained spoke from beside Lachlan. Nickoli had introduced us the day before I was crowned. “What do we agree on?”
Mugs of ale and hungry hands stilled as all eyes looked my way. Lifting my wine to my lips, I took one long drink before I set my cup on the table and slid my chair back. I took my time and leveled my gaze on each of the soldiers Nickoli and Xander chose to lead us into war. Once I’d met each of their eyes, I stood to my tallest height and let the men have their fill of me.
When I was sure they would pay close attention to my words, I gave a regal nod and smiled. “I am glad we agree on the power of your Queen.”