Page 57 of The Realm That Falls to Her

“What is it?”

“You should probably know how badly I want to make you stay here, where it’s safe.”

I sigh and pull the breastplate out of his hand. “Ruskin, I have to?—”

“I know,” he says, and steps up against me, his hands going to my waist to pull me close. “I know you have to put yourself in danger, and it…it terrifies me.” The last three words seem like they take a huge effort for him to say.

“I’m scared too,” I say, stroking his jaw. “But you have to trust me when I say that we have weathered things like this before, and come out the other side. Since Interra you’ve seen me perform a few tricks, and play a game, but you don’t remember how strong I can be. If you did, you wouldn’t worry so much.”

“You’re a liar,” he says, but gently. “I’d still be terrified even with my memories. I don’t need them to know you’re amazing—or to understand how utterly impossible life would be for me if something were to happen to you. I don’t need to remember anything to look at you now and know that if I lost you, there’d be no light left in this world for me. So swear to me, Ella, that you’ll be careful.”

“I swear,” I say. My voice is tight with the emotion his words have pulled from me—his raw honesty piercing me deeper than any show of bravery could.

He leans down to kiss me, his lips gently demanding access, which I readily give. His hands drop from my waist to cradle my ass, and the heat of our mouths colliding starts to spread through me. There’s a frantic edge to our kisses, the way he can’t seem to pull me close enough against him. I sense we’re both hoping we can chase away all thoughts of us being parted, if we just cling tightly enough now. His fingers dance across the waistline of my pants, and I’m immediately aching for him, thinking of all the things those clever fingers can do to me. But we also both know that the battle won’t wait for us.

“Ruskin,” I breathe.

He growls unhappily, but it’s clear he knows what I’m getting at, because he withdraws his hand. Reluctantly, we untangle ourselves, finish our final checks of armor and weaponry, and head to the front gates of the Unseelie Court. As I spot the soldiers gathering there, the battle starts to feel more real. The clank of metal and the smell of animal hide—ursinian and horse—solidify the fact that soon that metal will be tested, and soon these steeds will be put to work. We get closer, mingling amongst the warriors, and I see many soldiers have fixed cuffs to their horns that taper into sharp tips, while others wear gauntlets with open fingertips to allow their claws to protrude.

Elias is there, in an ostentatious suit of armor that’s somehow—with magic, I guess—has been colored red to match his hair. He nods at me as we pass, and from this I know he holds no grudges about the fact that he once again finds himself battling to defend his court. Vaccia sits on one of the biggest Calasians I’ve ever seen, with spikes topping off her horns, and Jasand and Wistal sit on the back of a carriage full of equipment nearby. I assume they won’t be riding into battle but are saving their transformations for later.

They’re a fearsome-looking bunch, and it’s hard to imagine the Seelie High Fae wanting to stand their ground with this lot bearing down on them. It brings me some comfort, almost as much as Ruskin’s warm hand resting soothingly on my shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“Yes, I think so,” I say, taking a deep breath.

Destan pushes his way through the crowd towards us, wearing a plain suit of armor, and I can’t help but gape.

“Des…you look positively warlike,” I say.

“No need to sound so surprised,” he sniffs, as Ruskin ducks away, mentioning something about horses.

I examine Destan, realizing I’ve never seen him dressed quite so practically.

“It’s nothing special,” he says, sounding put out as he adjusts an arm brace. “I didn’t have time for the armory to make me up anything better.”

I grin, an idea forming in my mind.

“Hold on.”

I place my hand to his breastplate and close my eyes. First I check for any potential weak spots, planning to strengthen the armor where needed, but even the standard issue items from the court’s armory seem to be impeccably made. The Unseelie know what they’re doing when it comes to strong armor, they just don’t waste time making it pretty. Which simply won’t do for Destan. I shift my focus, imagining the image I want to bring to life.

Lines form beneath my fingers as I carve my magic onto Destan’s armor, the design curling and twisting back onto itself in a kind of dance. I open my eyes a moment later and step back to admire the effect.

Destan looks down at the array of fleur-de-lis and swirling shapes now engraved into his breastplate, his face lighting up.

“Eleanor, it’s beautiful,” he says, delighted. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

“Just don’t go ruining it in your first battle,” I say with a wink.

Ruskin returns with a couple of horses in tow, the usual large Calasians I’ve grown to hate riding. But not everyone here is on a horse, and I remember that I’ve had much better luck recently with a different kind of steed.

“Those can be for you and Destan,” I say, nodding at the horses. “I’ve got another ride in mind.”

Chapter 16

Parsley lumbers through the Unseelie countryside with stubborn purpose. Occasionally, he’ll swing his head from side to side, sniffing the air, but he’s kept focused by the forward motion of the other animals around him. According to Vaccia, we’re not far from Cavalil. In order to get here quickly, we traveled by portal, which meant our landing point was limited to the nearest large body of water.

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