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Twelve
Elva
"So there I was," Colm drones on hours later, sounding— and looking— like my grandpa after one too many dinner drinks. Lethargic and pompous. "And I thought that certainly, well almost certainly, they wouldn't be foolish enough to stand against my whole army. And yet, they did."
I mhmm, urging him to continue, giving him the exact thing he craves, while in the forefront of my mind, all I can think of is The Horned King. Not Kairon, the mercurial, admittedly gorgeous king I've dined with, but the formidable, terrifying, undeniably enticing, wicked king. That visage is one that before today has only haunted my nightmares but, in the future, might even star in my most depraved fantasies. Even his posture is different when he's dressed in his helm and cloak, like he dares the world to stand against him.
Through the dark slits in his helm's eyes, I feel him watching me. Feel his gaze as it licks every inch of my skin. This man wouldn't taunt and flirt until I gave in. He would force his way into my life, show me why I want every vile thing he can offer, and make me beg for them again and again. He would hold me down, the haunting mask looming over me while I plead for a mercy neither one of us really wants.
Suddenly horrified by the turn my thoughts took, I try to focus on the task at hand.
The old, decrepit king before me.
The one who keeps wives as trophies and never allows them to become queens. Back home, the rumor was that he was looking for a new one. I felt zero attraction from him when I shook his hand, but he regarded me the way one might a work of art, like something to collect or keep on a shelf and show off.
So I sit, be a beautiful statue, and allow him to be the interesting one, hoping he'll give me something I can use against him.
"And only when we had decimated half of their rankings did we finally decide to show mercy and relent. You know, we lost nearly 90% of our men traveling with us that day. So many gave their lives to hold the line against those Fae bastards."
Those numbers don't add up. That sounds like a defeat to me.
"My goodness. Why were the Fae all the way in Fastid, Your Majesty?" I ask. What need would they have there? A landlocked nation with no exports and even fewer people.
Hesitation radiates from him, not wanting to answer the question, which can only mean he wasn't in Fastid when he attacked the Fae and then retreated.
"Well, you know, they were after something I had acquired in my youth. A crown worn centuries ago by their queen before she fell. It had been missing since her demise, and I followed the trail with the help of my countrymen."
"Oh! That's so interesting! Where did you find it?" I chirp, letting a naive, youthful version of myself lead the way, making him believe I'm entranced by his story and not already deciding that he's an ass.
Once again, he denies me the answer I'm looking for, but I already know that means he knows he has no right to it. "It was in the middle of nowhere, not somewhere anyone else would think to look. But my wife at the time knew just where it would be."
"Yes, I'm sure it was quite difficult to locate in the crypts beneath the palace in Suva." King Kairon's voice travels from behind me, spooking both me and Colm.
"Kairon," Colm clears his throat, cheeks draining of all color at the threat beneath the king's tone. "I thought we had put that behind us. Like I was telling Elva, it was many-"
"Miss Aistin," Kairon bites.
"Yes, I was telling Miss Aistin that it was in my youth." The old king clears his throat, redirecting back to me with a condescending smile and patting my hand with his own. "I was a much more foolish, boarish man then. I've settled down in my old age."
While he looks cordial enough, his anger at being outed is quite clear to me, practically coming out of his skin in waves. His pride and vanity show me I'm right in believing he just wants to collect pretty things and bask in how they reflect on him.
His Royal Pain-In-My-Ass doesn't understand what I'm doing here. He thinks I'm being charmed, not that I'm the one doing the charming. Currently, I'm not sure which of these two kings I like less: the one who is bragging about his accomplishments or the one who believes me too stupid to recognize it for what it is.
Before I can decide, the most terrifying creature I've ever seen enters the room.
Terrifying because she's so unearthly beautiful. Nothing like her should exist in the natural world. Her hair is a vibrant gold, shining even when there's no light on it. Her eyes match perfectly, shining in the same way as they land on me from across the great room.
Bronze, blemish, and wrinkle-free skin peeks through her golden gown, every inch of her drawing attention. Her smile, full of perfectly straight white teeth, feels warm even from here, as if she carries the sun with her everywhere she goes. Even if her pointed ears were not so adorned with jewelry as to draw the eye, there would be no mistaking what she is.
The Fae Queen.
Maren.
If she's only half, I can't imagine what a full-blooded Fae would look like. No wonder mortals fall to their knees and vow devotion to these creatures.
So quickly that I swear time skips, she's suddenly right in front of me, and I'm standing, reaching to shake her hand like some divine intervention is forcing me to do so.
She quickly looks at my outstretched hand, then searches my face, that beaming smile never falling. One corner of her lips lifts infinitesimally, and she takes my hand in hers and kisses it.
