Page 44 of The Realm That Falls to Her

My thoughts are disrupted by Vaccia arguing with another fae on our team, the grizzled male with fading red hair and—now I’m close to him, I see it—a missing ear.

“Age has everything to do with it. Hartflood’s just like any young buck—no stamina.” Elias grins suggestively. “It’s the same every time. He uses up all his energy in the first half, making his best plays, and then burns himself out. He ends up coasting for the rest of the game.”

“There are plenty of us here only a bit older than Hartflood,” says Pyromey. She takes a sip of her beer and raises an eyebrow. “And I certainly don’t have a problem with stamina.”

“Yes, but you’ve actually seen some action,” Elias smirks. “That’s the thing about battle—you learn quickly not to go too hard too fast, or you’ll stop going altogether.” He draws a finger across his throat to emphasize his point.

I’m reminded that for the Seelie this game isn’t just a test of strength, it’s a test of your character overall. I might’ve wanted to earn my place on the council, but that’s not the only reason I signed up for the game. I needed to earn their trust and respect, and that’s even more true if we’re going to sit on the council together. I think the fact I’m here now, being included, is proof I’m getting somewhere, but I need to be even more direct in my intentions. When the time comes, I could get them to present a united front and side with me when I represent my case to Lisinder. If Turis can put him off the idea of an alliance with Ruskin, then surely all of us combined can prove the court as a whole isn’t against such a move. I think about Ruskin, about the words of advice and support he offered me during the game. I couldn’t have helped my team win without him, and it’s my turn to help him now by building ties and alliances. And that means testing the waters, seeing how willing they might be to help me with my cause now that I’ve earned some trust.

“When did you see battle?” I ask Pyromey. “I thought you were too young to witness the Divide.”

“I was,” Pyromey replies, “but as part of the king’s security I’ve dealt with some border skirmishes, and we Unseelie have had our own conflicts that don’t have anything to do with the Seelie Court.”

Jasand snorts into his ale. “I thought everything was to do with the Seelie Court.”

I look at him curiously. “In what way?”

“Blood superiority, Unseelie identity. It’s always been a favorite topic of conversation round here,” grunts the redhead. “Some Unseelie like to define themselves by what they’re not—it’s in the name after all. We are not Seelie, and therefore we’ve got to keep as much distance as possible between us and anything that feels remotely related to them.”

I guess from Elias’s sour tone that he doesn’t agree with this philosophy.

“And what about someone like Ruskin?” I ask. “He’s a mix of both, so where does he stand?”

“Prince Ruskin would be considered tainted by some of us. Too Seelie to ever be considered an ally,” Pyromey says without embarrassment, though she watches me closely, as if she expects me to get angry or defensive.

I nod, showing I can accept the reality of the situation without getting offended on his behalf.

“And yet, I bet there’s just as many of you who’d rather see one who’s more like you on the Seelie throne than a full-Seelie ruler.” I stare round at them, making it clear what I’m asking.

Elias sits back. “That’s not our battle to fight.”

“Maybe not now. But if we sit around and do nothing long enough, it might become our battle.” Pyromey says seriously, and I feel a rush of gratitude towards her.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” I say to Elias, swigging my ale, wanting to appear still casual. “I’m human, after all. I have even less of a dog in this fight.”

“Sure, no dog. Except you’re the naminai of the prince in question,” points out Jasand with his usual sarcasm.

“I didn’t know that when Evanthe’s curse started tearing up the Seelie Court.”

“And what exactly did it look like, this curse? You’ve all been rather vague on that,” pushes Jasand.

“Cold iron,” I say, allowing my voice to go hard. It’s no stretch—my horror and disgust with Evanthe for using something so terrible against her own people is very real. “Splitting open the ground, covering whole buildings, crushing and impaling fae, Low and High. And that’s before you factor in the sickness. Wherever it sprang up, it polluted the place until no one could bear to be near it anymore.” I look around at my audience and see with satisfaction that they look suitably shocked by my description.

“So I stayed. Me, someone not born of Faerie, and not a member of the court I saw being ravaged before my eyes. Because that kind of destruction was too awful for me to just stand by and do nothing. And because I stood up to the tyrant who was tearing her country and her people apart, I had to run for my life. But just because Evanthe isn’t here yet doesn’t mean this place is safe. Your realm is beautiful, but it won’t stay that way if we don’t lift a finger to stop those who are happy to destroy it.”

I toy with saying more—telling them exactly how far Evanthe wants to go in her destruction—but I still worry they won’t buy it, so I end my speech there.

Elias clears his throat.

“It sounds terrible, Lady Thorn, but I’m no stranger to destruction. Many of us fought in the Great Divide.” He gestures to Vaccia and Wistal, and I realize they must be quite a bit older than Pyromey and Jasand. “If you think what happened at the Seelie Court was bad, then I ask you to imagine that devastation on a much larger scale. That’s what would happen if King Lisinder were to support Prince Ruskin’s bid against his mother: escalation. Believe me, the suffering you saw would be a picnic compared to what another war between the courts would unleash.”

“But you wouldn’t be going to war with Seelie. Ruskin has been running the Seelie Court for centuries and he’s—” I stop myself. Ruskin still hasn’t told anyone that he’s High King. It made sense back when we thought we were re-instating Evanthe. Even afterwards, when her followers ambushed us at Irnua, it felt too risky a card to be played. I doubted any of the Hunt would have been swayed by the news, instead they’d only use it as more proof that Ruskin was a usurper focused only on keeping what they would have seen as his stolen crown from his own mother. But with the Unseelie it feels crucial if we’re going to get them on our side. I decide to speak to Ruskin about it, but for now I change the direction of my sentence.

“He still has many who are loyal to him in the court,” I say. Though I can’t know for sure if that’s true or not, I desperately hope it is. “You wouldn’t be siding against Seelie, you’d be helping to fight for it, with a Seelie ruler at your side.”

The Unseelie exchange looks, and I feel a surge of frustration when I can see they’re still not convinced. The wound left by the Great Divide must be too painful, I think, even for the Unseelie, who make no secret about believing violence has an important role to play in society. I look at the place where Elias’s ear should be, and wonder what I’m truly asking of them. I know that the price for inaction will be too high, but with only stories of Evanthe and her destruction, and no reason to believe that that same trouble could find them here, I understand why they hesitate. I can represent my case to the king alone at the council, but if I can’t convince these fae, then I worry about my chances with him.

“Evanthe might not be seeking out war with your court, but she doesn’t care about maintaining peace. Her followers even less so. Most of them want another Divide. And they’ve already started putting things in motion. Go to the border if you don’t believe me—they might not have killed any Unseelie yet, but they’ve been targeting your servants. We found three of them murdered at the border, and I bet that’s not the last of it. They’ll start with the humans, but they’re out for blood. If you’re worried about escalation, leave it to them.”

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