Page 30 of Chosen By the Fae King

“Twenty-four.”

Her eyes widened. “Twenty-four?” she repeated, shaking her head and making a notation on her parchment.

“Where were you born?”

My nose wrinkled. “I'm not sure exactly. My mother said I was born at home.”

“And where is home?”

“Greenhollow. But we didn't live there when I was a baby. I remember living in my grandparents' home in Thistlekeep for a time, but before that, I don't know.”

“Thistlekeep?” she clarified. “Are you sure?”

“That's what my mother called it. Why? Maybe I have the words mixed up with someplace else.”

Sage tapped her pen on the paper. “Maybe. Let's move on to other questions and then get the rest of the exam over with so you can get out of here.”

The healer continued the interview, asking mostly about my medical history and life in Greenhollow. Then she examined me with quiet concentration, not once having me remove the robe completely.

Finally, she set down her tools, folded her hands together, and regarded me gravely. “You're too young for this, Aeryn. Strong as your well-store feels, you don't have access to it yet, therefore you have no magical ability to defend yourself.”

“My well-store is strong?” I hadn't heard much after those words.

“I'm more concerned about you not having access to it yet.”

“Yes, of course, but I ... my parents didn't have strong magic, not that I can remember. And they died before I was old enough to think of asking about my magic. I'm just surprised to hear it, is all.”

“How did they pass?”

“Blood poisoning. Specifically, iron. They worked in the factories, building weapons back, well, I'm sure you know the history of the last war. Anyway, I only remember them being sickly and unable to find someone strong enough to purge the metal from their systems—not that they could have afforded it. To be told my well-store has strong magic, is a little unbelievable.”

“I can see why you would feel that way, but it's the truth,” she told me.

“I don't even know what sect of fae I am,” I joked nervously. “I assumed I was woodland or something similar. My parents farmed a small plot of land. After they died, I took over. I'm good at it. But woodland and earth fae aren't known to have strong well-stores.”

Sage shook her head. “No, they're not.” She leaned toward me, face serious. “Aeryn, when did your parents die?”

“Fourteen years, eight months, and six days ago.” I cleared my throat. “Roughly.”

Her gaze softened. “Nox has no right to endanger you like this.”

I stiffened at her sympathetic tone as much as the slice against the king, which spoke of familiarity.

I didn't want sympathy or pity. I'd been doing fine on my own. Greenhollow had helped me and I owed them for their support. I'd be back soon enough to continue paying off that debt of kindness.

Before I could tell her as much, a sharp rap on the door interrupted us and Lorne stalked inside, towering over Sage. The healer rolled her eyes.

“What's with the delay?” he asked. “Problem with Lady Aeryn?”

I held my tongue. I could be civil in front of Sage, especially if Lorne was reporting back to Nox.

Sage's lips thinned into a disapproving line and she swatted his chest. “Back off, you fool.”

My eyes widened, secretly enjoying the exchange.

Lorne stepped back. “Seriously, what's the problem with her?”

“Well, brother–”

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