A vellum tome lay open before Maura on the table, where she was taking notes. In the middle of the table was another map in a raised box. This one she recognized as the Rocky Mountain fae territory, where House Rowan’s lands resided. It was a topographical map, with mountain peaks and placid lakes part of the landscape. A black border delineated the space at the outside of the territory, and dotted, colorful lines within the territory marked the borders of four different house lands. One paved road ran adjacent to the east of the area, north to south, and was the only route connecting them to the human cities beyond.
Everything here felt antiquated and old-fashioned. Becka wondered if they’d considered adding a whiteboard for posting the daily agenda.
Could I get one delivered?
Becka also recognized Calder and Astrid but couldn’t remember the names of the other three council members. Seeing Calder there made the pastries she’d eaten that morning sit heavily in her stomach, but she forced herself to smile at him.
“Now that everyone is here, let’s begin,” Maura said. She reached over and patted the chair to her left, and Becka didn’t hesitate. “Becka, this is now your seat and I’d like Hanna Hawthorne to sit next to you. Hanna is here at my request to serve as Becka’s political advisor. Calder, can you please move down?”
His cheeks flamed and his gaze narrowed at Becka, but Calder did as he was told.
Astrid took the seat to Maura’s right. The other three sat in the seats across from them.
“Everyone, I’m sure you know Becka,” Maura said. “Becka, I know you’re familiar with Calder and Lady Astrid. In case you’re not aware, to his left is Lord Cedric, Elder Eirian, and then Lady Wynne. All are illusionists, the best in the guild. Duke Vott’s chair is held open until his safe return.”
“Forgive my question if this isn’t appropriate, but I’d like to understand. As Vott isn’t an illusionist, his place in the council is by rank?” Becka asked.
Lord Cedric leaned forward, elbows on the table, and spoke. “You should always ask for clarification when needed. We reserve a place in the council for the duchess’s partner and for the heir apparent.”
“Thank you for your inclusion,” she replied, feeling a slight flush hit her cheeks. So it wasn’t just Maura’s insisting she attend the council to give Becka some busywork; the heir’s presence was customary. Which Becka would’ve likely known, had she asked before now.
“It is our custom,” he said. “But, Duchess, we must discuss your son’s continuing inclusion. As he is no longer your eldest guilded child, his seat is forfeit.”
“This is an unusual circumstance, so we will vote upon his continuing status,” Maura replied. “Are there any other perspectives we should consider?”
The council members shifted in their seats, each looking to Calder, as if weighing him in their minds. In return, Calder glowered at Becka, obviously blaming her for his precarious position.
Seeking a path to move forward, not just with Maura, but with all of her family—grouchy brother and all—Becka considered her next step. She felt no fondness towards Calder, but he wasn’t going anywhere, either. If she could improve their dynamic, perhaps she’d dislike being around him less.
“If I may? My return is an exceptional occurrence, with my further delay in being declared guilded a part of that equation. In the past few months, Calder has been privy to the council business. Have there been any issues?”
“No, not at all,” Aunt Astrid replied.
“Are there other common reasons for removing council members?” she asked.
“We only remove members when they can no longer perform their duties,” replied Lady Wynne.
“In that case, I move Calder remains, unless you consider him unfit for duty?”
Calder’s brows shot up, and he regarded her afresh, surprise and confusion warring on his features.
“I second the motion,” Maura said, a pleased look on her face. “All agreed?” Everyone raised their hands. “Calder remains on the council. Next item of business?”
Hanna shot Becka a toothy smile, reaffirming to her that lobbying to keep Calder on the council was definitely the right move.
“As you’re new here, Becka, I’d like to clarify the role of this council,” Maura said. “We oversee all who live within House Rowan territories, as well as all members of the Illusionists Guild, whether they live here, in another house’s territory, or are on assignment within the cities.”
She thought of her engagement, and how House Hawthorne wasn’t within the local Rocky Mountain fae territory but instead hailed from the Newfoundland fae territory. “Who’s in charge if there’s an altercation between houses or guilds?” Becka asked, because it was worth knowing who might mediate any potential disputes between them.
“Both parties pick a mutually agreed upon third entity to mediate,” Maura replied.
“That sounds straightforward,” Becka muttered.
“It almost never is,” replied Lord Cedric with a wry smile. He turned to Maura. “Has Becka been brought up to speed on the current state of our territory?”
Maura shook her head and waved him on. “Keep it succinct.”
He rose and picked up a wooden pointer. “The Rocky Mountain fae territory encompasses approximately forty-five thousand acres and nearly six thousand fae. As I’m sure you recall, four houses share this territory. Rowan,” he tapped on the space to the upper left, “Birch,” he tapped on the upper right zone, “and then Apple and Pine,” he said, tapping on the two smaller, lower sections. “What you may not know is that House Apple suffered a great loss a few years ago and is now a protectorate under House Rowan.”
The boundaries of the four houses reminded Becka of the ventricles of the heart. “What happened?”
“A group of humans managed to infiltrate Apple’s border undetected and attacked their central manor. The fae living there were shot, artifacts were stolen, and the manor and outlying buildings burned to the ground. Their loss was a great tragedy for all fae, and the remaining members of the house have not yet recovered. Since the tragedy, House Rowan has overseen the day-to-day elements of trade for the area and the remaining patronage. The territory has rallied and rebuilt their structures, but no one can replace the lost lives or history that was destroyed.”
“That’s horrid. They’re pacifists.” Becka’s heart ached for the people of House Apple. She’d played down by the river with children from their house when she was young, remembering them as an easygoing and kind house. Angst and rage gripped her ribcage, making drawing her next breath painful. The humans couldn’t have picked a less aggressive house to attack. “Were the humans found and punished?”
Sorrow filled Cedric’s features. “Oh, certainly. They were caught by enforcers soon after the attack and jailed for a year. Some of the stolen artifacts were recovered, but even those were damaged.”
“That’s nowhere near adequate,” Becka replied. “But having lived in the city, I’ve seen how normalized aggression towards the fae is. It’s as if some humans think the Great War never ended.”
As much as she’d liked her freedom in the city, Becka couldn’t deny that most days she’d felt measurably safer here in fae territory. Like she had a chance against the threat of the Shadow-Dwellers. At least, that’s how she’d felt before the poisoning.