Page 53 of The Faerie Handmaid

Faolin’s mouth pulled down, drawing deep lines in his cheeks. His great age showed in the furrows. “I think she will know,” he said softly, in a tone that was a parody of intimacy. “The two of you are close, I can see. She will feel everything you do.” He made a noise of disgust. “It’s shameful, a fae woman allowing a mere human to take such liberties. It’s a betrayal of our kind. She is her mother’s daughter, with no concept of the proper order.”

“What is the proper order, Sero?” Braithe’s voice was steady now. Perhaps if she kept him talking, he would not hurt her again. At least not for the moment.

His eyes narrowed, accentuating the acute angle of their slant, wrinkling his eyelids. “The fae should rule this world. I fail to see the point of humans. Your lives are so short, your weaknesses so many.”

“You don’t think your craving for the suffering of others is a weakness?” It was a daring thing to say, and the moment it passed her lips, Braithe feared it might bring more of that ghastly pain, but Faolin surprised her with a mirthless chuckle.

“Do you know, Braithe, I think you might bring me more pleasure than any of the ones who have come before. Most humans are too easy. Your kind is revoltingly frail. They collapse at the first challenge.” He dropped his hands from the chair, composed now. “I will enjoy finding your breaking point. But now the servants are back for the trays.”

Braithe heard the front door open. She tensed, wondering if she could run past the servants, past Faolin, before the door closed, but she heard the click of it shutting again before she could move.

The three servants who had brought the meal came into the kitchen silently to retrieve the trays. They departed without acknowledging either Braithe or Faolin. The door closed after them with a decisive thud.

Faolin stretched his arms over his head as if it were any other evening after a day well spent. Braithe’s skin crawled, watching him. He said, “Well, now I need to rest after my—my exertions of this day. You should do the same.” He nodded to her. “Sleep well, Braithe of the Temple.” Then he was gone.

Braithe could have wept with relief when she heard his bedchamber door close, though she knew the reprieve was temporary. She collapsed into a chair, put her elbows on the table, and buried her face in her hands. After a moment, she heard Gwen’s whisper. “Braithe? Are you all right?”

Braithe lifted her head. Gwen stood opposite her, her arms wrapped around her thin body. Her face was a study in guilt, as if she were to blame for what Braithe had suffered.

Braithe said, “I am, for now.” Carefully, her body echoing with remembered agony, she pushed herself up. “I don’t know how you bear this. I didn’t know there could be such pain.”

“You have to give him what he wants,” Gwen said. “Scream. Cry. Sometimes I passed out, and then he would leave me.”

“I cannot comprehend the evil of such a creature.”

“And there’s nothing we can do. He has magic, and we don’t.”

Braithe bit her lip and didn’t respond. It was better not to speak her thought aloud, lest Faolin pick it up.

She did have magic. It might not be much, and it had been slow to develop, but it was real. Morgana knew it. Even Emerlyn recognized it.

She meant to find out just how strong one human girl’s magic could be.

17

It was a dispirited group that trudged back into the city. Emerlyn was visibly tired, her steps uncertain. Morgana wished she could stride ahead, but she made herself walk slowly, matching the older woman’s pace. It was clear that Idhri also wanted to hurry, but darkness had settled over the streets. The faerie lights twinkled among the houses and along the boulevard, enabling them to see the cobblestones they walked on, but it was not enough light to identify an unknown house. Morgana was forced to accept that it was too late to begin their search, but the concession went against her every instinct and made her head ache with tension.

It didn’t help that she was concerned about Emerlyn as well. “Perhaps you should rest with us tonight,” she said to her. They had reached the guesthouse. Morgana murmured the new cantrip for the door, then turned for Emerlyn’s response.

Emerlyn was shaking her head. “Thank you, but no. The council meets tomorrow, and I need to be there.”

Idhri said, with touching gallantry, “I will escort you home, Councillor.”

Morgana approved of his courtesy, but she said, “I worry for you, Idhri. I think it would be better if I walk with the councillor.”

Emerlyn gave them a halfhearted smile. “You are both very kind, but that’s not necessary. One of my servants is coming. He will meet me halfway.”

“How does he know?”

Emerlyn cast an embarrassed glance toward Idhri and gave a little apologetic shrug. “He is a half-blood. He always knows when I need him.”

Morgana gazed at her, trying to judge how strongly she should insist. “Is it safe for you to be on your own in the streets?”

“Oh, yes,” the councillor said. “No one would bother the queen’s councillor.”

“You seem very sure.”

“It’s one of the Rules, and everyone observes it. It’s a point of honor.”