Page 23 of The Ruthless Fae King
“Thank you,” I whispered, and then stepped out of the carriage. When Piper disembarked, the carriage pulled away, taking Lucien away from the palace and to a small guest house in the distance, beyond the maze of beautiful gardens.
Piper helped the servants gather my bags just as I was staring out onto the rich gold and yellow flower garden.
“Princess Madelynn,” a familiar but deeper-than-I-remembered voice called behind me. I turned to see Marcelle Haze, prince and lead royal of the Summer Court. He looked handsome in a gold silk tunic. His blond hair was cropped short, showing the tips of his pointed ears. “I haven’t seen you since you were… thirteen?” His eyes roamed slowly over my entire body. “You… grew up.” His voice dropped an octave and nervousness flushed through me. If Lucien had been here for that introduction, it would be snowing right now.
“I did. And I got engaged.” I held up my hand, reminding him of his place.
He pursed his lips and stepped forward to inspect the ring Lucien had given me. “I didn’t know you were open to suitors or I would have thrown my offer at your father as well.”
“Marcelle,” I warned, my tone cutting.
Every year or so from age six to thirteen, my family would come here with Sheera and her parents for Summer Solstice. Marcelle and his little brother Mateo would play with Sheera and I the entire week we were here. But his father became somewhat of an extremist, saying that Fall and Summer shouldn’t be mixing, and stopped inviting us. It was clear that in his father’s mind, Summer and Spring were one unit and Fall and Winter were another.
“Besides, your father would roll over in his grave if you married anyone from Fall Court,” I teased.
Marcelle grinned. “True, but you would be worth it.”
“Stop,” I snapped, more harshly this time, and he held up his hands in defense.
“I’m glad to see you. No matter the circumstances.” He glared in the distance at Lucien’s retreating carriage and I frowned.
“Suggesting separation from Thorngate, Marcelle? Come on. That’s not right. Surely there can be another arrangement to please you.” I was going to take advantage of this friendly banter while I could.
Marcelle’s eyes cut to mine. “I must go after what is best for my people, and yes that means separation from Winter and the madman that rules it.”
“Your people are fae, same as mine, same as Lucien’s. We’re all one. There is no need to separate—”
“I do not want war with the Nightfall queen!” Marcelle snapped. “I have it on good authority that your betrothed would bring us in a realm-wide war with her. He’s unhinged, as we all know.”
I ignored hisunhingedcomment and thought about what Lucien had said. “You’re right. He might. And if you separate, you won’t have his protection. The Nightfall queen will come for you last, when you’re weak andalone. Good luck with that, Marcelle.”
I looked to Piper: “I’m tired. I’d like to lie down before dinner.”
“Yes, my lady.” Piper curtsied to me, ever the professional in front of other royals.
I stomped past Marcelle, reining in my emotions so that I didn’t rustle the slightest breeze. I didn’t want him to know how much our conversation bothered me.
Separation from the realm was unheard of! It made our people look weak and divided. All so that Marcelle could push off an eventual war with the Nightfall queen? It was cowardice.
* * *
Once settled into our rooms,Piper came to sit at the edge of my bed as I angrily brushed out my hair.
“Dividing the fae realm will surely attract the Nightfall queen’s notice,” Piper said.
I growled in frustration. “I know.”
She took the brush from my hand. “You’re going to rip all of your hair out,” she teased, and then started to brush my hair more gently.
I chuckled but couldn’t bring myself to smile. “Everything rides on this dinner with Lucien and Marcelle, doesn’t it?” I asked my closest ally.
She nodded. “If you can show Marcelle that Lucien is a reasonable man, maybe he will think twice about the separation.”
The thing was, I wasn’t sure Lucienwasa reasonable man. Reasonable maybe, but also unpredictable and moody.
“He locked the winter king out of his own land. That’s treason right there,” I told Piper.
She nodded, setting the brush down and walking over to face me. Piper barely had any Fall Court powers; she couldn’t rustle the wind and she wasn’t good at gardening. But what she offered in advice and friendship far outweighed her lack of magic. I always cherished her advice, and I knew by the look on her face now that a heavy dose of it was coming.
