Chapter 20
We spendthe rest of the afternoon working on the tunnel. I can still barely muster even the simplest of rituals on my own. But, by the end of it, I have nearly completed an entire lantern by myself. While the rest of them carved out the entire tunnel and the rough hollow of what will be the escape hall.
In all, Oren, Giles, Davien, and I leave triumphant. We walk back through the city since Giles cannot fly. Which gives me more time to drink in the sights and sounds of Dreamsong.
“It really is magnificent,” I say thoughtfully. I’ve only spent a few days here, and yet I feel like I’ve known this place for a century. Time feels as though it passes differently in Midscape, slower. Though I think I only feel that way because every hour of every day has been life changing.
“What is?” Davien asks. Oren and Giles are still behind us, debating over the contents of the ritual book and what else they absolutely must complete before they have to return it to the crafter they borrowed it from tomorrow.
“Everything in this world. How every home is tailor-made, unique, crafted by the hands of those who live there. The smells of fae food, how it singes the nose with spice and citrus. Even your sunsets are more beautiful…until the mountains cut them off.”
Davien chuckles. “Yes…it’s good to finally be home.” A frown briefly crosses my lips. He misreads the expression. “You’ll be home soon enough, too. Especially with the rate you’re managing to manipulate the king’s magic. Soon enough you’ll be able to abdicate it to me without issue.”
“That’s not what…” I quickly abandon the objection. I wasn’t envious of him. I was sad at the idea that he would be here and I would have to return to that cold and so painfully normal world on the other side of the Fade. How do I communicate that to him when I barely am willing to admit it to myself? “Yes. That’ll be for the best. And when that happens, I’ll go back to the human world and live in that manor, alone.”
The silence is heavy and surprisingly awkward. “It doesn’t have to be alone,” he says finally, and so tenderly I nearly break. I look up at him, my heart tripping over what I hope he’ll say next: I could come with you, my mind tries to fill in for him. But, instead, he says, “You would be considered a widow by your laws. No one will know what’s happened. Say I was lost in the woods, I made the letter ambiguous enough. You could find a proper human companion to spend your days with and no one would question.”
“I find I can’t stand most humans,” I mumble.
He hears me and laughs. “And fae are better?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I seem to have a better track record of getting along with fae.” I think back to our conversation about friends, earlier.
“You just think that because you’re forced to be with us.” He grins.
“No. I’m perfectly capable of still hating you while being forced to be with you. In fact, forcing me to be with someone usually means I end up hating the person more.” I think of Joyce and Helen. They might have been my family, but that didn’t stop them from being the wardens of my prison. I had no trouble hating them while loving Laura. “I was prepared to hate you when you first bought my hand in marriage.”
He laughs. “I have to admit I was afraid of that happening. I had told myself it didn’t matter, that you were a means to an end…but I was very glad when you didn’t. I never wanted you to or relished in putting you in that position.”
There’s not a bit of smoke. He’s telling the truth, as always. I inhale the fresh air and exhale all the lingering ill will from our rocky start—both in the Natural World and here in Midscape. He did offer much by way of my dowry, and even tried to look after me how he could when he thought he was leaving without me.
“I was thrilled by the idea that you didn’t hate me, too. For whatever a human’s opinion is worth.”
“A human’s opinion? Not much,” he says casually. Then Davien turns those eyes toward me and I know in that moment he’s going to break my heart before this is all over. Whatever pieces are still left to be broken. “But your opinion, Katria…I’m finding your opinion is worth more and more by the minute. Worth more than all the lost magics of the vampir in the southeast and all the ancient powers swirling in the mer waters of the north.”
Is it just my imagination, or are our steps slowing? Are we walking a bit closer together? Our shoulders are brushing when they weren’t before? I swallow thickly. A thousand questions burn on my tongue.
What I want to ask is, Will you hurt me like the rest of them? What I ask instead is, “Why did you bequeath that manor to me? Oren and the others said it was your family’s lost estate. Why wouldn’t you keep it for yourself?” I have to know if he was as well-intentioned as I am giving him credit for.
“I’ll have a whole castle in the High Court and all the land of the fae wilds. The least I could do is give something to the woman who helped me reclaim my birthright.” He glances in my direction. “Granted, that decision was made before you messed up the ritual.”
“Lucky for me I have that letter in your handwriting back at the manor, I guess,” I tease lightly and nudge my shoulder with his. He chuckles again, leaning back toward me. “Will you come and visit me?” The words escape as a whisper. I think he doesn’t hear me and I’m ready to abandon the question. I shouldn’t have asked. It was foolish. I open my mouth to change the topic when, to my surprise, he answers.
“If I’m able.”
Fae can’t lie. He would come and see me. Even after he’s the fae king. Though…it also wasn’t a resounding yes. Was the sentiment another one of those half-truths of the fae?
Our conversation is cut short by the sounds of music and singing. I look ahead along the cobblestone road. “What’s that?”
“Oh, I suppose that starts tonight,” Davien murmurs with a small smile.
“What does?”
“The first feast celebrating the coming end of autumn and the arrival of winter. It’s been so long since I observed any fae holidays.”
“Feasts for autumn?” I ask.
“Yes, we relish in all the changes of our earth, especially after the long winters during the Human Queen’s absence. Come, Katria, let me show you more of my world.” He holds out a hand, expectant. I hesitate, but only for a second, and then I take it. His warm fingers close around mine and I follow the line of his arm to a broad shoulder, and then to the sharp cut of his jaw—the delicate curve of his lips. What would it be like to kiss them?
