She sobbed all through the night. I could do little apart from holding her, my stomach twisting with the pain I knew was weighing her down.
She didn’t push me away, but she kept turning her head discreetly away whenever I tried to see her, to see how she was, to ask if there was anything I could do.
I knew there was nothing in existence that could have possibly eased her pain.
Chapter 29
The kings crossed their arms across their chests and, one after another, under the desert night sky, pledged allegiance. With only stars for light, I couldn’t see Lyria well, as she stood a small distance away, but I assumed this had to be an emotional moment in so many ways.
Cantillion stood by Lyria, watching her like a hawk, as he had been ever since he took us out of the cart and brought us out here. Cantillion had gathered the kings; Lyria was to do the talking. And she had. There wasn’t even one among them who refused. All of them agreed to storm the Fae Kingdom at Cantillion’s sign, once the duel ceremony had began.
“Largely, this was already in our plans. Those fae murderers need to be stopped,” King Iopon said, and I believed he spoke for most of them. Lyria’s father had been arranging this for a long time — if for different reasons, and with a different understanding of the overall picture, he had essentially been arranging the same endeavour, and here was the result.
Chapter 30
When we finally returned to the cart and Cantillion spelled the door closed, I felt spent. Lyria’s eyes were tired.
I grabbed the silken blankets from the chair to the mattress — Cantillion had arranged a few luxuries for us after the agreement.
Lyria gave me a brief, grateful glance and dropped on the bed, raising her arms above her head. Then with the same move, she covered her eyes with her hands. It looked like she was trying to be discreet, hiding tears…
I crawled to her and arranged the blankets around her, so she’d be comfortable. I made a little pillow out of the silks and tucked it under her neck. She lifted her head and rested back, accepting the pillow.
“What are you doing?” she muttered.
“It’s like, I don’t know, a blanket cocoon for you,” I smiled. “You must be exhausted.”
“Sure am,” she muttered, drowsy.
I slumped on my back beside her. She was watching me from the corner of her eye. Her eyes were glowing with the faintest simmer. I’d grown used to it. I loved to see that light in them, I’d noticed it often coincided with emotional moments, meaningful moments, moments that mattered.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said.
She smiled. “You too.” She snuggled close, wrapping her arms around me from behind and pressing her nose to my neck.
I felt like crying, and at the same time, the happiest I’d even been. Here on this trip with Lyria, I was happy in a way I’d never known to even crave before. I put my hands over hers, bursting with wanting to pull her close.
She carefully pulled her hands free and slipped them to my throat and kept going lower and lower, until one of her hands was cupping my breast, and the other was still moving on. I sighed out sharply with all that was stirring in me.
Then she pushed herself to sit up on her knees beside me. Her lilac-glowing eyes had an intense gleam. Next, she was untying the ribbons of my dress, and I covered her hands with mine but didn’t stop her, instead, I let go and raised my hands to the sides, trying to read her. There was something serious about her, something sacred.
She leaned in and kissed me hard. I pushed to sit up to meet her half-way, putting a hand behind her neck, and she kept kissing me, hands working impatiently on the bows. She yanked the ribbons open and pushed aside the dress. I pulled her close against me.
Chapter 31
Hundreds and hundreds of fae mulled in the partially closed yard that was technically an open cave, which functioned as the guard to the fae tunnels — the last stop before the darkness began. A coal gray stone slab covered half of the enormous, circular clearing, while half of it was open to the sky. The most striking feature there was an arena fenced out with rows of stacked lava rocks, with a row of decorative high chairs on one side of it, as if set up for esteemed spectators.
Behind us, in the open desert, were gathered hundreds of soldiers under the eye of their human kings, as well as hundreds of fae warriors, some on their lizards, some on foot…And in the midst of them all stood monsters as high as three men: dragons. I counted four that I could spot.
Dragons never fared into human lands. It was a rumor that fae tamed them. Here we could see it with our own eyes…it was true.
“This is where you’ve spent your summers?” I whispered to Lyria. I had imagined the Fae Kingdom different.
“This is where the Kingdom begins. Inside, it’s all darkness and stone.”
My mind went to: and strong earth magic, and toxic fumes that would slowly kill a human…
This clearing was the last spot where humans were allowed alive, but we would not last long in the tunnels and caves, regardless.
The guards who escorted us thumped their spears to the ground and called for us to stop. I felt all the eyes on us. Someone stood up from the decorative high seats close to the arena. There were fae people sitting in all of them, which I hadn’t noted at first, wearing fancy capes and high head decorations or helmets. Now I recognized the fae man who had stood up as Cantillion.
“What is the human woman doing here?” Cantillion yelled, his voice echoing from the ceiling structure.
“She’s my companion,” Lyria shouted back. “She goes where I go.”
“She’s not going to be in the arena?”
“If she doesn’t go, I don’t go. You’ll miss out on your little gory show…”
Cantillion’s restless moving spoke of baffled frustration, but then it turned to dismissive mirth, judging by the tone of his voice: “Her blood will be on your hands, but fine, have it your way. She’s nothing but a human mutt, she’ll be tossed aside within the first minute. But whatever…This should be amusing.”
I glanced at Lyria. She held my eyes, looking concerned, encouraging. The sound of a horn made us both turn.
“Queen Seselineia,” Lyria whispered.
Dressed in a concoction ornamental decorations that circled her like the roots of an old tree, with flowing dark fabrics emerging from underneath, she looked like some kind of a primordial entity, an otherworldly creature, as she emerged from the shades of the ceiling-covered part, walking towards Cantillion. Cantillion drew his sword, but it looked like a theatrical move more than an actual threat. Still, the Queen halted, and her dozen companions or guards with her.
Then they spoke in fae, and I couldn’t follow what was said. I assumed Cantillion had spoken to Lyria in our language out of habit — likely not because he was respecting me. But then, I didn’t know their ways. Queen Seselineia raised her hands in a dramatic gesture, and Cantillion did the same.
Cantillion took hold of the hand rest of his seat.
“My niece will fight for me,” Lyria translated his words. And paused. And turned to stare at me. I shook my head, took her face in my hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I could see this was hard for her. She closed her eyes and focused to listen to Cantillion’s speech.