CHAPTER TWENTY
BETH
As we marched toward our destination, the crowd parted like water before a ship’s bow. The leader of our group was so tall, I only saw his shoulder blades. Watching his muscles move under the intricate black leather uniform entertained me for a while, but soon, I glanced at the men next to me. Their profiles were haughty and aquiline, very different from the ordinary Fae selling goods in the marketplace.
Were there different kinds of Fae? The guards were tall with aristocratic features, broad shoulders, and imperious bearing. The vendors in the market seemed stunted in comparison with skinny legs and protruding bellies. They might be starved, or maybe they belonged to another distinct Fae race. There was no way for me to tell.
What they all had in common were their pointed ears and silver eyes, just like myself. My thoughts went back to the man with the fiery eyes. He’d never told me his name, but he’d looked different again. Not as tall, but with a lean physique, his arms corded with muscles.
When he’d cornered me in the alley, lust had torn through me like an unstoppable force, and the wetness between my legs had dampened my underwear. I’d never reacted like that to a man. Never.
And his eyes. They’d been flickering and alive, as if flames lived inside the sockets. Just thinking of him raised the heat in my tummy until I had to focus on counting my steps to calm myself down.
I was about to face my grandfather, the King of the Fae. It wouldn’t do if I stepped in front of him, aroused by some stranger I’d met for all of five minutes.
The market clamor receded as the path inclined. By the time we reached the top, I was wheezing. My legs were shorter than those of the men surrounding me, and I’d been forced to jog to keep up. Bending over to catch my breath, I huffed and puffed while they were breathing regularly.
The Fae to my left threw me an amused glance, as if to say, “I’m not surprised you can’t keep up. You’re only half-Fae, after all.”
But how would they even know? I didn’t look any different from anybody else around here. Well, other than rounder hips and red hair. But both those were covered by my clothes.
“Open the door,” the commander demanded.
A silver gate adorned with intricate swirls swung wide, and then I was inside the royal palace. I had barely any time to look around when Prince Prys approached us, smiling broadly.
“Beth, my dear! You must be so excited. If what you claim is the truth, the king is delighted to meet you.”
I returned his smile tentatively, but it froze on my face like a rictus when he continued, all pretense of congeniality abandoned. “Of course, you will not survive this morning if you are an imposter.”
From one moment to the next, his mask of friendly enthusiasm disappeared to reveal his true nature. The guy was a sociopath. My stomach dropped, and pure fear streaked through me.
A second later, the mask was back on. “But we will not know until the king assesses you. So let us lose no time and proceed.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an order. I swallowed drily before whispering, “What about Bleddyn?”
Prys tilted his head like the bird he resembled. Then he waved his hand, answering my question with a haughty dismissiveness.
“Oh, he is awaiting you. Fear not, my dear. He would take liberties with you only on my command.”
If that was meant to calm me down, it had achieved the exact opposite. I was even more terrified than before. The prince waited expectantly, offering me his arm. As I took it, his words echoed through my mind.
Bleddyn would do nothing without the prince’s orders. Did that include taking me to his bed?
Struggling with a rush of nausea, I fought to keep my face neutral. I was walking into a situation I might not be able to control. But there was no choice, other than tough it out and be ready to run. Because I was so close to finding answers, I was not giving up now.
With a nod, the prince dismissed my escort. “We have a few minutes, so let me give you a little tour.”
We walked along the perimeter of the courtyard until we reached an opening at the far side, and I got my first view of the palace proper.
In front of me was a beautiful garden, more lush and colorful than anything I’d ever seen. There were flowers that in the human world would never bloom together. Large bushes of lilac stood next to roses and chrysanthemums.
“If you are truly my sister’s child, the whole realm will rejoice.”
Surprised by his words, I glanced at the Prince, who stared ahead into the garden.
“I don’t know how much Bleddyn has told you. But Arwen and I were very close as children. We did everything together, trained together, studied together, and when she left, I held out hope that she would return one day. I missed her terribly.”
My shoulders relaxed and a warm feeling spread through my chest. Maybe things would turn out well after all. Perhaps I would find a new family in this place. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d held, sending him a beaming smile. But his face was like stone as he continued staring into the distance.
Children laughed nearby, and a boy and a girl, both dressed in simple tunics with wreaths of flowers in their hair, ran past us, trying to catch each other. They looked like I’d imagined faeries to look like. Even though their legs and arms were skinny, they seemed healthy, with shining eyes and glossy hair.
A deep voice from behind me said, “You are the spitting image of my daughter. I would recognize you anywhere.”
I spun around and found myself facing an elderly man in magnificent attire. The king. He was right here, in front of me.
Once again, I held my breath as my thoughts tumbled over each other. Nobody had briefed me on how to talk to a king. Why had Bleddyn never mentioned how to behave before royalty? Was I supposed to bow or curtsy?
The man didn’t wear a crown, but his coat was made of black fur from a huge animal, giving him the appearance of a skinny bear. But the hair looked soft like rabbit, edged with silver trimmings and embroidered with golden thread. Underneath, his garments were of fine fabric and his shoes of supple leather, as intricately adorned as his outer clothes.
He held himself like a ruler, upright and strong. The only concession to his age was a walking stick with a silver wolf’s head that he leaned on heavily. I decided that yes, dropping into a curtsey would be the right thing to do. I was about to get into position when he opened his arms.
Before I could object, he embraced me. My cheek rested against his shoulder, and yeah, the coat was as soft as it looked. His arms were strong and warm, holding me tightly against him. A sense of tranquility and security washed over me as I listened to his steady heartbeat under my ear.
And then I heard the words I’d been desperate to hear, without even knowing it.
“Welcome home, my child.”