Page 81 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“Oh, there’s plenty of Seelie with battle scars. They just don’t show them.”

I look at him with confusion.

“Illusions, Eleanor. Many of the older fae wear them. They don’t want their scars on display.”

I know the Seelie place a high value on beauty, but I hadn’t imagined they were using magic to change their looks on such a scale. Is it just vanity, or do they simply not want a constant reminder of those dark days? I could see it being either reason—or even both at once. The Unseelie however, choose to wear their scars out in the open, with pride. To demonstrate their strength and resilience? Or is the reason more gruesome? Maybe they liked the brutality of war. Maybe they miss it.

Still, whether they’re brutal at their core or not, there’s a strange kind of beauty to the space the Unseelie lead us into, after asking us to leave our horses at the door. The chamber is huge—a hall carved out of the heart of the mountain. A hundred faerie lights set it alight with a pale blue-white glow, though far up in the heights there also hangs a huge, black chandelier.

Banks of seats rise on either side of the cavern, stone pews etched with scenes of battle and victory, I think, though I’m more focused on the people sitting in them: a sea of High Fae with all manner of beastly features—bright animal eyes, sharp teeth and horns in many varieties. They survey us like predators examining their prey, as our guide brings us forward in front of a dais supporting a throne. The man sitting in it is unmistakably related to Ruskin—he has the same black hair and dark, ridged horns, and I get confirmation that the yellow in Ruskin’s eyes comes from his father’s side of the family. The man’s claws scrape across the arms of his throne as he sits up straighter, his crown of bone tilting as he looks down at us.

King Lisinder is ready to meet us, and he’s gathered the whole court to watch.

Chapter 25

“So it is true, then. My nephew has come to my kingdom.” Lisinder’s face is as stony as his throne room, his gaze resting heavily on us. I note the rustle of hundreds of fae leaning forward to get a better look.

“Your Majesty. Uncle.” Ruskin bows and I quickly follow suit, bobbing a curtsey. “It has been a long time.”

“It has, but I would recognize my brother’s son anywhere. It’s a pity you don’t seem to have inherited his forthright nature. I was displeased to hear that you arrived under a cloak of secrecy.”

I fight the urge to fidget. In Seelie, this message would’ve been delivered differently—with sarcastic insinuations or a snide smirk. But Lisinder’s disapproval is direct and unveiled. He’s not bothering to hide how this angers him. After all the games of Seelie, the bald-faced honesty of it is unsettling.

Ruskin must feel it too, because there’s more emotion than I expect in his response.

“I came in secrecy perhaps, Uncle, but I can promise you my companion and I mean no harm to this court. We are simply here to visit an old friend.”

“But not, it seems, your own flesh and blood?” Lisinder’s voice rises now, booming across the cavern. “You must be aware, Nephew, that a prince of Seelie creeping into this court like a snake in the grass looks like an act of spycraft.”

Ruskin lifts his chin, refusing to be shamed. “I hoped it would not be perceived that way.”

“You hoped it wouldn’t be perceived at all!” Lisinder says, his lips pulled back so that I can see his canines clearly. “You are either a fool or extremely arrogant, Dawnsong, to come here, when you have already shown in the past how little you care about this court.”

I glance sideways at Ruskin. He’d said he hadn’t seen his uncle since he was a child, so I assumed there wasn’t any history here, but from the anger in Lisinder’s face, it seems otherwise.

“I assure you—” Ruskin begins evenly.

“Do you expect me to forgive you trespassing as you forgave the murderers of my people?”

Murderers? What in the world? I know Lisinder can’t be talking about the war. Halima made it clear that peace was accepted after the marriage of Ruskin’s parents, which obviously was years before Ruskin was even born. Whatever he’s referring to must be some fresh incident. But what? And why didn’t Ruskin mention it to me?

I watch Ruskin carefully, seeing the way his jaw tightens at the accusation. There’s some merit to what Lisinder said, I can tell, otherwise it wouldn’t be getting to him.

“As a ruler,” Ruskin says, his voice unnaturally calm, “I’d hoped you would understand that we must sometimes make difficult decisions. The Riverwings hadn’t technically broken any Seelie laws and so yes, I pardoned them.”

Lisinder waves his hand, his expression scornful. “I do not need an explanation. I already know that justice is a joke in the Seelie Kingdom.”

Ruskin’s jaw tics, but his voice is ruthlessly calm when he answers. “Whatever you may think of the Seelie Court, I am still my father’s son. By virtue of his blood, I claim right of passage through these lands. If you were to take a private audience with me, Uncle, I would be able to prove that there’s no sinister motive for this visit.”

Ruskin is willing to explain something of our troubles to his uncle, it seems, just not with the whole court listening in.

“Oh, you will prove it. Both of you,” Lisinder says, and I feel the atmosphere shift, the hairs on my arm rising as a ripple of energy travels through the fae around us. “My brother’s son you may be, Ruskin Dawnsong, friend of my kin you may be, Eleanor Thorn,” he says, startling me when he uses my name. “But you are not members of the Unseelie Court, and if you wish to be granted access to it, you must undergo the same test we all have.”

Until now I’ve been too busy keeping eyes on all the fierce fae around us to notice the thick metal rings and grooves inlaid into the floor in front of the dais. Now some of the Unseelie who escorted us move forward to pull on them—two on either side—so that a section of the floor begins to creak open, splitting in two. Beneath it a staircase descends into a deep pit.

My heart beats harder. I understand now why the seats of this chamber are staggered like they are. It’s to give the court a good view of whatever happens in that pit.

“I will grant you the private audience you ask for…but only if you pass your trial and prove yourself worthy.”

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