Page 98 of A Kingdom of Pleasure and Torment

“It means that you are the daughter of the late Queen Parphia.” He frowns. “You did read that diary, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I did! Why would I be here if I hadn’t?” I snap.

“I worried that I revealed the secret too soon.” He sits and conjures a fire in the hearth. The warm light lines the angles of his face. He looks more tired than I’ve ever seen him.

“I woke you,” I say, ashamed of my rudeness. That I am a queen is no excuse.

“No. I knew when to expect you.” He points to a symbol beneath the glass. A thin arm draws the eye toward it. “This is you, now. And this...” he strokes his fingers backward on the spiral, “is where Kathras left you the diary.”

I suspected he might have done so on purpose. “You told him to?”

“No. I don’t interfere with destinies. I merely watch them. I can no more influence the future than I can prevent it.” He meets my gaze with serious intent. “And I cannot, and will not, tell you what happens next.”

“Because it will alter destiny?” I ask.

“Because it hasn’t been written.” He touches the glass again, above another of the clock arms, and traces its quick, steady circle around the spiral. “This is possibility.”

“For me, or for everyone?” It seems unlikely that such a clock exists for everyone in Fablemere.

“For this court, and its history. For Arcus and Luthian and Kathras and Cassan. For Queen Theeda, for Queen Parphia. And for you.”

I shake my head, tears flowing down my face. “No. This can’t be. Luthian granted my mother’s wish.”

“No, he didn’t,” Firo says, and offers me his handkerchief. “He gave you to the faery who raised you and paid her in wishes to raise the queen’s child.”

“A child,” I remind him. “There are no faery children.”

“That’s true. Which was why it was so important to hide your faery nature. It was your mother, your true mother, Queen Parphia, who placed the enchantment upon you that stunted your growth and made you appear human.” He looks down at the symbols again. “It was her last act before the inquisitors took her.”

“That was five hundred years ago,” I protest. “Certainly I have not lived for five hundred—”

My mother. Not Parphia, but the mother who raised me, changed the seasons on our lands. A year could have lasted as long as she wished it to.

“You’re beginning to see the truth,” Firo says softly. “You understand now, yes?”

I touch my chest. “I’m a faery.”

“Under Parphia’s spell, you’re a human,” Firo corrects me. “When the spell is lifted, you’ll be a faery.”

“Then lift the spell,” I say without hesitation. I’ve spent my entire life not knowing quite what I am. Born of a wish, a human with a faery mother, there was never anyone like me. Now that I know what I am, I want to fully embody my faeness.

Firo shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. I can’t break another faery’s spell.”

“Parphia is dead,” I protest. “Surely, there’s some loophole—”

“You would need to speak to someone who knew the spell that was used. Unfortunately, Parphia cannot be questioned. Your mother might have known. The only other involved was—”

“Luthian.” He doesn’t want to speak to me again. Now, he doesn’t have that choice. He put a similar spell on Brujon once. He knows how they work.

“Cassan might be moved to help you,” Firo says. “He’s quite besotted with you.”

“He’s besotted with human pussy,” I snap, then offer Firo an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“You’re not in a position that I envy. But the power that you gain from this revelation…” He’s studying the clock face. “I can’t tell you what you will do next. But I can tell you that you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, and stronger. You braved all of Luthian’s games. You survived Arcus’s torments. You can handle whatever comes next.”

I don’t feel smart, or brave, or strong. I’m confused, frightened, and angry.

“Why did Luthian bring me here?” I ask, for I know now that Firo has more knowledge of the plot than I ever had. “For revenge against Arcus, or to win the kingdom for Parphia by installing me on the throne?”

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