“She is known for her temper and her love of torture,” Lachlan said flatly. “Also, she wouldn’t like the look of you—she likes to be the fairest in the land, you know.”
“What—like the evil stepmother in Snow White?” I asked, almost laughing.
But Bran nodded seriously.
“Don’t scoff. Many of your human ‘fairytales’ have a basis in reality. “It is said that Mab once had a daughter who grew more beautiful than her by far. She ordered the girl killed but she got away—into the Seelie side of the forest.”
“Where, of course, she met the Prince— the son of Queen Elia and King Tyr,” Lachlan went on. “Naturally, they fell in love at once.” He made a face. “Because that is how Fate likes to toy with us.”
“I take it that was bad?” I asked. “I mean, the parents didn’t approve?”
“Didn’t approve?” Bran said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s an understatement.”
“Bringing home a denizen of the ‘Dark Lands’—no matter how captivating they may be—is like bringing home a cockroach or a rat and declaring you intend to marry or befriend it.” Lachlan’s green eyes flashed and I saw pain in them once more. “Isn’t that right, Bran?”
“Well…” Bran shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,” he admitted at last. “That’s about right. Or that’s how some people see it—not me, though,” he added, frowning. He looked at Lachlan. “I know I didn’t tell you goodbye when my family fled, but you were the one who ended our friendship—well before that.”
Lachlan looked away, his green eyes burning.
“I had my reasons. I came when you called, didn’t I? I paid the debt I owed.”
“I hope it was our friendship more than the debt that called you back, old friend,” Bran said gently. “You know I’ve never held your birth against you.”
“No,” Lachlan agreed. “But you’re the only one who hasn’t. Even I despise my lineage—such as it is.”
Bran cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.
“I think we got off track, talking about the rulers of the Realm,” he said.
“What did happen to the prince and princess?” I asked, tactfully trying to change the subject away from what was obviously a touchy topic. Though honestly, I was dying to hear more about the two friends’ history. “Not that I don’t want to hear your story, you guys, but I’m curious,” I added.
“Nobody knows what happened to the UnSeelie princess,” Lachlan said. “Some say she died of grief when the Prince presented her at the Summer Court and Queen Elia and King Tyr rejected her.”
“Some say she died in childbirth,” Bran countered. “And that the Prince went into hiding afterwards.”
“And some say the two of them ran away into the human world and were never seen or heard from in the Realm again,” Lachlan finished. “Rumors are cheap. The main point is that neither the Prince of the Summer Court or the Princess of the Winter Court were ever seen or heard from again.”
“Is it really that easy for Fae to leave the Fae Realm and just hide out somewhere?” I asked.
Bran shrugged. “It’s what my family was doing.” He looked sad for a moment. “My father angered Queen Elia and she stripped him of his rank and put out an order for his arrest.”
“Wow—what did he do to make her so angry?” I asked, wide-eyed.
“I’d like to know that too,” Lachlan drawled. “All I heard was that you all ran—not the reason why.”
Bran frowned.
“It’s…complicated. As you know, my father was an advisor to the Queen—her most trusted one, in fact. He had her ear and felt like he could speak freely to her about anything.”
“Apparently not, though,” Lachlan murmured. “What did he say that riled her up so much?”
“He simply pointed out that since the Prince had left so many years ago, she had no heir. So if something was to happen to her or King Tyr…” Bran coughed as though this was an extremely impolite subject to be speaking about it.
“But…don’t fairies live forever?” I asked.
Lachlan shook his head.
“Both Seelie and Unseelie have much longer life spans than humans but they’re not immortal. And of course, they can always be killed. Although if you say that in the presence of their majesties, you will be the one minus your head pretty quickly,” he warned.
“It is considered treason to speak of the Queen or King’s demise,” Bran said in a low voice. “Which is why my father had to run for his life and my whole family went with him. Even though my father was just trying to alert the Queen to future dangers and let her know she ought to choose an heir.” He sighed. “Anyway, he said she wouldn’t hear of it. She’s convinced the Prince will come back someday and beg forgiveness and claim the throne. Until then, she and King Tyr will continue ruling, no matter how old they get.”
“Interesting.” Lachlan nodded. “I wondered why the lot of you had to go so quickly. I didn’t guess it was because your father tried speaking truth to power.”
“Unfortunately.” Bran looked unhappy. “I wonder where they’ll go?”
“Not too far away, I hope,” I said anxiously. “I still feel awful that they left without you.”
“I’m not sorry.” Bran lifted his chin. “I’m almost of age anyway. It’s time I struck out on my own.”
“You’re not leaving are you?” I exclaimed anxiously. I didn’t want Bran to go either. Somehow I felt like I needed him by my side—which was the same way I felt about Lachlan, though I had only just met him.
I knew those feelings didn’t make much sense, but I couldn’t stop the churning anxiety inside me when I thought of either one of them leaving me.
“No, of course not. I promised to stay with you, Emma, and I always keep my word,” Bran said softly.
“Maybe I ought to hang around too,” Lachlan remarked, giving me that lopsided grin of his. “I’ve heard a lot about Nocturne Academy. Do you think they’d admit a half-blood like me?”
“I don’t see why not—though you must know that all the other Fae students are pure-blooded High Sidhe,” Bran warned.
“Meaning I’ll be shunned by polite society?” Lachlan raised an eyebrow at him. “Remind me again how that’s any different from back home in the Realm?”
“You have a point,” Bran said. “At any rate, it’s a good thing there will be two of us to protect Emma. I’m not sure what the other Fae students will make of her now that her true face is revealed. She’s already had trouble with Morganna Starchild.”
“Ah, the fair Morganna,” Lachlan said dryly. “As pretty as a poppy and as poisonous as an asp.”
“That’s Morganna, all right.” Bran nodded grimly. “She already put a skink in Emma’s ear. Who knows what she’ll try next—she’s bound to be jealous now that Emma’s beauty exceeds her own.”
“She may be from the Summer Court and not the Winter one, but she’s cut from Queen Mab’s cloth all right,” Lachlan agreed. “She wants to be the fairest of them all. You’re right, Bran—I definitely need to stay and help you watch Emma’s back.”