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THE KING OF THE WOOD Elves prepared his younger brother for burial. He, like his father, laid in state, the burial shroud over his body. The people of the Woodlands filed by, one by one, to pay their last respects.
King Andahar, Lord Eldrin, Princess Allanna and their spouses joined together once again to say farewell to their brother, Lord Navin. Though Allanna didn’t take her brother’s death as hard as their father’s, she was still inconsolable. Sir Drake held her close to him as she wept while they entombed Navin next to their father. It had been a difficult time for all of them, including their people.
Two funerals in two days did not bode well for his rule. And he wasn’t even counting the deaths of the Fire Elves.
He couldn’t help but think of Laerwen. Leaving her the previous night had been as painful as pulling a dagger out of his heart. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms, hold her, comfort her. But she had pushed him away. She had kept him at arm’s length. And he knew why—she blamed herself for Randir’s death.
None of them spoke as they headed through the woods back to the palace. Andahar intended to visit her once they left the tomb. To let her know she was still not alone and that he would do all he could to help her. But on their way back, he saw Leopold walking at a fast clip toward them. Andahar came to a halt as Eldrin and the others.
“My king, their majesties the queen and king of the Fae have arrived,” Leopold announced. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Allanna muttered.
“Please show them to a guest chamber in the palace, Leopold.”
“Queen Elyne has asked to speak with you immediately, your majesty.”
“Show her to my private chamber then. Lord Eldrin, will you join me?”
He turned to his wife, kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you after.”
“I think I should check on Laerwen. No one has seen her emerge from her chamber yet today,” she said.
“Please let me know how she’s doing,” Andahar said.
She smiled. “You’ll be the first to know.”
They met Elyne and Derron in the king’s private chamber. When she saw Andahar, she came forward and clasped him by the hand, kissing him on either cheek.
“Andahar, it’s good to see you again. My condolences to your family. I was very sorry to hear about the king and your brother, Lord Navin,” she said.
“Thank you, your majesty.”
“Please call me Elyne. We’ve known each other well. It seems silly to call each other by title.”
He’d always had a soft spot for the princess, now queen, of the Otherworld. He would never forget the day she came to the Wood Elves asking for help with the war they’d fought at the Stone of Destiny. A hard won battle between the Fae and Kieran’s Unseelie army.
Derron clasped his hand and shook it.
“Thank you both for coming,” Andahar said. He poured tankards of honeywine and passed them to his brother and the Fae monarchs.
“We could not refuse your call,” Elyne said. She beamed at Eldrin then. “I understand congratulations on your recent nuptials are in order for you, Lord Eldrin.”
“Aye, they are. Thank you.”
“I should very much like to meet your new bride.”
“You will. All in good time.” Andahar waved them all to a seat. “As well as the queen of the Fire Elves.”
“So it’s true then?” Elyne took a sip of her honeywine as she perched on the edge of her chair between Derron and Eldrin. “I’d heard the realm was utterly destroyed.”
“The Fomorians left no survivors. Those Fire Elves who remain are here in the Woodlands.”
“How are they faring?” Derron asked. “I would think they have a hard time adapting to the humidity.”
Andahar nodded. “There are some who have trouble with the thicker air here. But all in all, they have adapted quite well. It is my intention to help the Fire Elves rebuild the Hin’dar Rhule since I feel somewhat responsible for the destruction.”
“What happened with Lord Marath was not your fault,” Eldrin put in. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault we had a rogue hell-bent on reinstating the Treaty of Separation.”
“I have to agree,” Elyne said. “Lord Marath was a ruthless killer.”
“And just a wee bit crazy,” Eldrin added.
Though they shared a chuckle, Andahar knew it was all too true.
“I believe I also speak for Elyne as well when I say you have the Fae pledge to assist in the rebuilding. We will do whatever we can,” Derron said.
Andahar nodded. “I was going to ask, but I’m glad you offered. I will pass along your offer to Queen Laerwen.” He cleared his throat and turned serious. “I have asked you here for another reason, Elyne. Primarily to ask your assistance in battle against the Fomorians.”
“Of course. Anything you need. We’re happy to help you.” She reached for Derron, clasped his hand. “Derron and I have already rallied the troops. All you need to do is say the word and they will be dispatched immediately.”
“I thank you.” Andahar sipped his honeywine, considering his next words carefully. “Also, I have been visited by a certain Fomorian...named Cormac.”
Both Derron and Elyne stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. Finally it was Derron who broke the silence.
“Cormac was left for dead in the underworld. We all saw his broken body there.”
“Aye, I know. I remember hearing the tales of Maeve’s rescue. However, I believe he has been somehow resurrected by a powerful mage, Lorcann. He was Marath’s right-hand man during that whole debacle.” Andahar took another sip of his honeywine to calm his ragged nerves. “But you will likely not recognize him. He’s taken another body.”
“Another body?” Elyne asked.
“Aye. I remember what he looked like at the Stone of Destiny. This is not the same man, physically. However, his spirit has been somehow transferred into another body,” Andahar said. “He lives. I assure you.”
“Cormac is a dangerous man,” Derron said. “Again I say we should have killed him when we had the chance.”
“Lot of good it would have done,” Elyne retorted. “He’s alive once again. What did he want?” She directed her last question to Andahar.
“He wants to become the Unseelie king.”
Silence again. Elyne chewed on her lower lip. Derron ran his hand over his chin. Eldrin took a long quaff of his honeywine.
“That is interesting,” Eldrin said at last. “He intends to take over the throne as Dark King?”
“And rule the Unseelie realm,” Andahar said with a nod. “I’m inclined to allow him.”
“What does he hope to gain?” Elyne asked. “There is nothing there. The Barrier has been restored along with the walls between the human realm and the Otherworld. There are no portals open either.”
“He claims he has the help of a powerful sorceress. He told me the Fomorians plan to make their final stand at the volcanoes of the Hin’dar Rhule.”
“Can you trust him?” Derron asked.
“I don’t know. I was hoping you could give me some insight.”
“He saved my life when Lord Kieran’s tent was set on fire,” Elyne said. “I would have burned alive in that tent had it not been for Cormac.”
“But this is not the same man,” Derron said. “He could be more deranged. More dangerous.”
“He did tell me Lorcann’s plan, though, was to harbor the magic in the lava of the volcanoes. The only way the magic can be drawn out is by spilling the blood of a royal Fire Elf.”
“Queen Laerwen?” Elyne asked.
Andahar nodded.
“Why would he tell you this?”
“Because he wants us to help him stop Lorcann and get to the Unseelie realm. He believes he can banish the entire race of Fomorians there and seal the Barrier once more.” Andahar leaned back in his chair and expelled a breath. “I know it sounds farfetched. I’m not sure I believe it myself. But the Fomorians attacked us and tried to capture Laerwen. Cormac had every opportunity to kill me but he didn’t. I believe there is some truth to his story.”
“So we go along with this,” Eldrin said. “Then what?”
“We make our final stand in the Hin’dar Rhule against the Fomorians. Our people, the Skye Elves, the Fae. Cormac said the volcanoes will erupt on the day of the eclipse.”
“That doesn’t leave us much time,” Elyne said.
“We should mobilize the troops at once,” Derron added. “Send them directly to the Hin’dar Rhule.”
“That was my thinking as well,” Andahar said. “I had hoped you would agree to this plan.”
“How does this sorceress intend to break the Barrier?” Elyne asked.
“Cormac didn’t say. I suspect he didn’t want to reveal all his plans at once.”
“I don’t like this.” Derron got to his feet and prowled the room. “It seems too easy. What if Cormac is leading us into a trap?”
A flash of light and then, “I assure you I am not.”
Derron halted mid-step. Elyne jumped to her feet, sloshing some of her honeywine over the rim of her cup. Andahar and Eldrin stood too. Cormac was on the other side of the room, leaning casually against the wall, his ankles crossed. He dug under his fingernails with the tip of a dagger.
“What I told Andahar was the truth. I intend to rip the Barrier and send the Fomorians there. Along with myself and my sorceress.”
“Why should we believe you?” Derron moved to stand in front of his wife, keeping her behind him as though a protective shield.
“Because if you don’t then the Fomorians will kill the Fire princess and destroy the Hin’dar Rhule once and for all. I’m not making this up, I swear to you.”
“How did you get in here?” Andahar asked. “The walls are warded.”
“Not very well. At least not well enough to keep me out.” Cormac shoved off the wall and put the dagger away. “The eclipse happens in less than a fortnight. You and your armies will set up on the easternmost ridge. Princess Laerwen knows the landscape well. She will be able to show you. Lorcann intends to march on the volcano.”
“And when the volcano erupts?”
“That’s where you come in,” Cormac said. “Once the lava starts to flow, Lorcann will want to find the princess. You must guard her with your life. She cannot be captured by him. We only have a matter of minutes before it makes it down the mountain. Gweneth and I will rip open a portal through the Barrier and push the Fomorians inside. Once we’re all there, she’ll close it and I will proclaim myself Unseelie king.”
“You think it’s that simple?” Elyne asked, shaking her head. “You don’t know what sort of chaos will be happening when that volcano erupts or when the Barrier opens.”
“No, but I will do what I can to contain the Fomorians to one general location. It is up to you and your armies to keep them from leaving the Hin’dar Rhule.”
“I don’t like this plan,” Derron said. “There are too many holes in it.”
“I will do what I can to keep the Fomorians from killing too many of your Elves and Fae but I cannot make any promises.”
Before anyone could protest or reply, Cormac flashed away. They all stood stunned for a brief moment until Andahar sank into his chair. “That, as they say, is that.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, brother,” Eldrin said.
“As do I, Eldrin. As do I.”
* * *
A KNOCK ON HER DOOR. Laerwen ignored it. She didn’t want to see anyone right now. She didn’t want to see anyone ever. She wanted to wallow in her misery and self-pity. Her guilt. She wanted to be alone. She was alone. And it was her fault.
Randir was dead. Her parents had been murdered. Her people left in her realm had been massacred. What sort of queen was she?
She’d locked herself in her chamber, refusing to see anyone. Even Hiram. She wanted to be alone, as was her right. She only ventured out for food and drink when she knew the palace slept. She hadn’t spoken to another since the night Cormac visited and Andahar walked her to her chamber.
Another knock. A persistent one.
She sighed. She’d have to face someone eventually.
“Laerwen? It’s Lady Talaiel.”
“Pox,” she cursed. She couldn’t ignore the Lady of the Skye, could she?
It took all her strength to peel herself off the bed and pad to the door. She pulled it open wide and ushered Talaiel inside. When she was in, Laerwen closed the door.
“How can I help you, my lady?”
“I came to see how you were faring.”
Laerwen trudged to the window and peered out. It was mid-afternoon. Somewhere in the palace, they would be having their noon meal. And below the treetops, they would be doing their normal daily activities. What was normal? Laerwen didn’t know anymore.
“I’m fine.”
“We haven’t seen you at any of the meals.”
“No, you haven’t,” Laerwen replied. She was unwilling to give up any more information. She wasn’t in the mood to chat.
“Laerwen, I know what you must be going through—”
“No, you don’t.” Her head swiveled in the lady’s direction and she pinned her with her fierce gaze. “No one knows what I’m going through.”
The lady clasped her hands together in front of her and remained unflustered. She gave her a small smile. “You are a strong woman, Laerwen. We all know that. And we’re worried about you.”
“I’m really fine.” She turned back to the window but she could hear Lady Talaiel take a few steps toward her.
“No. You’re not. You’re grieving. And you have every right to. Laerwen, you are not alone. You know that. Lord Eldrin and I, as well as the king, are here for you. To stand by your side no matter what comes to pass.”
The burn of tears threatened and she blinked them away. She was strong. But she was tired of being strong. She was tired of holding her head high. She was tired of pretending nothing was wrong. She was just tired.
“The king, in particular, is concerned about you.” Lady Talaiel’s voice was low and soft and close. She had moved toward Laerwen and stood behind her.
“Is he?” Her voice cracked, much to her dismay.
“Aye, he is. What can I do for you?”
Laerwen shook her head before the Lady of the Skye finished. “Nothing. There is nothing anyone can do for me. Randir’s death is on my head.”
“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t carry the guilt or the blame for that. He did his duty to you and you to him. You brought him here from the Hin’dar Rhule, to safety—”
“Only to have him killed!” She reeled on Lady Talaiel, unable to stop the shed of tears. “Aye, he died because of me.”
“He died protecting you.” Her voice remained steady and calm. “You have to know that.”
Laerwen slumped against the window edge. She leaned her head against the cool surface and closed her eyes, allowing the tears to flow freely.
“I know he did. Yet I still cannot stop from feeling guilty.”
“That will pass. And you have the rest of us to help you. Even the king of the Wood Elves. He cares for you a great deal.”
Laerwen flushed and turned away, not wanting Talaiel to see her reaction. She knew he cared for her. She’d developed feelings for him. Feelings she wasn’t yet prepared to acknowledge.
“We all saw the way he reacted when he found Randir kissing you.” There was a humorous lilt in her voice.
Laerwen would never forget the way Andahar looked. The rage and jealousy in his face. The way he punched Randir and the way the two of them fought.
“It is not possible,” Laerwen said, ever the stubborn woman. “We are too different. I don’t know how it would work between us.”
“But it’s worked for me and Eldrin. And we are of two different realms.”
Suspicion settled over her then and she turned to face the lady. “Did the king send you here?”
“No. He did not. I came because I’m concerned about you. I want you to think about these things before you make your final decision. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. You care for him, too.”
“Aye.” The word slipped out of her on a whisper. “But the Hin’dar Rhule—”
“Has a ruler. You. You are queen now. Where you go, what you choose, your people will follow. They’ve been here in the Woodlands long enough to know Andahar. To see how he treats you. They will approve of the match.”
Laewren chewed her lower lip, knowing the Lady of the Skye had the right of it. She was queen now, whether she liked it or not. No, there hadn’t been a formal coronation for her but she her duty was bound to her people and her realm. She was a royal of the Fire Elves. She needed to accept her role as queen.
Hiram, she knew, would be ecstatic she had finally embraced her title. But would he be ecstatic about embracing the king of the Wood Elves as her king? Should they marry, what would it do to the Hin’dar Rhule and the Woodlands?
“And what of the Wood Elves? Would they approve of the match with their king?” she asked.
“They would, I’m sure. They have so far accepted your presence here in the Woodlands without objection,” Talaeil said.
Laerwen, though, was aware of the sideways glances they gave her. She preferred to wear her Fire Elven traditional garb. Not the gowns of this realm. That could change, though. She’d been presented with an entire wardrobe of clothes handpicked by the princess but up until now Laerwen had shied away from them. Mayhap now was the time to embrace what the Woodlands had to offer if she were to allow herself to be courted by the king.
She blinked, surprised by her own thinking that she was ready to be courted by the king so soon after Randir’s death. Though, she amended, she had never loved Randir as she should. Their relationship was one of arrangement. It didn’t stop the grief from spearing her over his death, but it also released her from any romantic feelings she may have considered for Randir. She was free to love whom she wished.
And so was the king of the Wood Elves.
“I will consider your words, Lady Talaiel.”
“Good. That’s all I can hope for. Now I shall take my leave of you.” She turned headed toward the door.
“My lady, one more question.” Talaiel paused, her hand on the latch. “Has the Fae queen arrived?”
“Oh, aye, she has. She and her husband. I’m sure King Andahar will want to introduce you to her soon enough.”
Laerwen chewed her lower lip. Mayhap it was time for her to get out of this stuffy chamber and make herself presentable again. She’d lingered her far too long. And she really wanted to meet the queen of the Fae.
“Do you know where they are?” she asked.
“In the king’s private receiving chamber, I believe.”
When the Lady of the Skye was gone, Laerwen decided it was time to make an appearance.
She changed into a gown from this realm. It was royal blue in crushed velvet with a high collar, long flowing sleeves, belted at the waist. She had opted for this more traditional dress of the Wood Elves rather than her sari and her head veil. She let her hair flow freely over her shoulders and down her back. To give the appearance that she had accepted their culture. She could not get Lady Talaiel’s words out of her head. He cares for you a great deal.
She splashed cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the tear streaks. She didn’t want them to see she’d been racked by emotion. She wanted to appear as she always was—strong and confident.
Once dressed, she pulled open the door and stepped into the drafty hallway. Sentries were still posted at her door but she paid them no mind. She knew where the king’s private chamber was and headed there directly. She would meet the queen and king of the Fae with her head held high.
She garnered a few curious glances as she made her way through the halls. These nobles likely hadn’t seen her dressed this way before. As she passed, she acknowledged them with a nod.
A guard and Leopold stood outside the king’s private chamber. Leopold snapped to attention and greeted her with a smile and a bow.
“Your majesty, how may I serve you?”
“I understand the king and queen of the Fae have arrived. I should like to meet them.”
“The king has been in conference with them along with Lord Eldrin. I shall announce you.”
Leopold opened the door, swinging it wide enough for her to see inside. He announced her arrival and everyone got to their feet. Andahar approached her, his hand out to her.
“Princess Laerwen, I’m glad you’ve come.”
“I am queen now,” she said, gently correcting him, embracing the title at last.
“Aye, of course. Queen Laerwen, allow me to introduce you to Queen Elyne and her husband, King Derron, rulers of the Fae.”
Elyne stepped forward first, a bright smile on her face. She was tall and lithe with golden blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. She extended her hand to Laerwen.
“How delightful to meet you at last.” She shook her hand and turned to Andahar. “She’s quite lovely, Andahar. She reminds me of an Indian princess.”
“An Indian princess?” Laerwen’s brows drew together as she looked to Andahar for clarification.
“Queen Elyne has spent quite some time in the human realm. I’m certain she refers to something of a human trait.”
“Oh, aye. Forgive me. I forgot that not all Otherworlders have been to the human realm as much as I have. Or Derron for that matter. But that’s a tale for another time. The Fae would like to extend our deepest sympathies on your loss, your majesty.”
“I appreciate that, thank you.”
Derron stepped beside his wife and extended his hand. When Laerwen reached for her, instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “A pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”
“We were discussing the battle plan at the Hin’dar Rhule,” Andahar said. “I consulted with Elyne since she and Derron are familiar with Cormac. They have agreed to lend their troops to ours as well as help rebuild the Hin’dar Rhule.”
“I’m grateful.” Laerwen couldn’t stop the lump that formed in her throat.
She was overwhelmed. She didn’t understand how all these royals were so willing to help her—someone they hardly knew—fight her war and rebuild her home. She glanced at Andahar and didn’t miss the adoring look he gave her. She knew he did all this for her. Her and her people.
“Thank you.”
“You’ve arrived in time for a feast,” Andahar said. Though she was sure he was talking to the Fae queen and king, his gaze never left her face. “Shall we move to the dining hall?”
“Sounds delightful,” Elyne piped. “I’m famished. Come along, Derron. Lord Eldrin, I should like to hear all about your latest ranger exploits.”
They filed out of the room, leaving Laerwen alone with the king. An uncomfortable silence settled between them. She couldn’t hide from his adoring looks then. Not that she wanted to. He studied her features in an unhurried way that made all her senses stand up and take notice. Her skin prickled sensual sensations she couldn’t deny.
“You look quite beautiful in that gown.”
She blushed like a young girl receiving her first compliment from her latest crush. “I...I thought it would be appropriate to wear to meet the rulers of the Fae.”
“You can wear whatever you wish.” His gaze trickled down her and then back to her face. Then he cocked a grin. “Or don’t wish.” Then he cleared his throat and extended his arm. “Shall we join the others?”
She hooked her arm in his and they walked toward the dining hall.
“I’m glad to see you, Laerwen.”
“I apologize for being such a recluse.”
“I understand why you were.”
“I may not have been in love with Randir, but he was my friend.”
“There is no need to explain.”
He smiled down at her. A warming smile that said he understood with perfect clarity. It caused a curious swooping deep in her womb and made her weak in the knees. All she could think of at that moment was how much she wanted to kiss him. Their last kiss marched back into her mind and she found she could not forget the way his velvet lips brushed against hers or the way he tasted of wild berries and honeywine.
She licked her lips as if in anticipation of that kiss. She didn’t miss the way his gaze flickered there and then back up again before he turned away.
“Do you still taste like brown sugar?”
Her pulse throbbed at the base of her neck. Did she? She didn’t know. “Do you wish to find out?”
He halted in the middle of the corridor and turned to her, his hands on her shoulders. His pale green eyes—so mesmerizing—locked on hers. Her breath hitched in her throat as he cupped her face in his warm hands.
“I do wish it. If you will permit me.”
She blinked, slow and languorously, and nodded. Then everything went into super slow motion as she waited, not breathing, as his lips descended to hers. When they met, it was a tentative kiss at first. Not unlike the first one they’d shared on horseback. His lips were indeed still velvet soft and he still tasted like wild berries and honeywine, which she found so curious.
His tongue dipped inside her mouth and he took his time exploring. Tasting her, teasing her, making her want more than his kisses. Her hands moved up his chest and around his neck, pulling him to her. It had turned into a kiss of longing, of wanting, of needing. She blocked out any other thoughts about her future, her kingdom, the men and women she’d lost. All she could think about right then was Andahar and kissing him.
Their romantic interlude was cut short by someone clearing his throat nearby. They broke apart, though reluctantly. Leopold waited patiently, his hands clasped in front of him.
“Your guests await, your majesties.”
“Right.” Andahar took her arm again and led her away, following Leopold into the dining hall. He gave her a sideways glance full of mischief. “If you were wondering, you do still taste of brown sugar.”
Heat throbbed through her body right down to her feminine core. “Do I?” She couldn’t bring the words to her throat to tell him he still tasted of honeywine and wild berries. She didn’t know why. For whatever reason, they were frozen there and unwilling to come out.
“You do. Would it be too forward of me to say I’m not finished with you?”
Laerwen giggled but couldn’t force herself to answer a question she didn’t know how to answer. She hadn’t fully committed to him yet and hadn’t wanted to admit to herself that she wanted Andahar with a ferocious need that would only be assuaged by being with him in the most intimate way.
Deep down, she knew she wanted to be with him. If things were different, if there wasn’t a war to be fought or lives to be saved, mayhap she could allow herself to have that.
“I too have guilt over Randir’s death,” Andahar said. “I told you once I would fight him for you. And I meant that. I never wanted him dead, though.”
Her gaze fluttered to the floor in front of them. She fixed on the shiny wood planks, trying hard to not allow the tears that threatened fall. She’d cried enough, hadn’t she?
“Andahar—”
“It’s something I wanted you to know.”
Their arrival in the dining hall stopped any response she might have had. She and the king greeted the guests.