Page 35 of Their Chosen

As everyone turned to watch, I edged quietly to my spot on the dais, not drawing anyone's notice along the way. Everyone was watching the mysterious Chosen and Master Jude. I took the opportunity to study the crowd, and I spotted Arryn along the wall opposite me in his uniform, obviously at his post for the evening.

Arryn studied Rhowyn openly instead of watching the crowd as his position demanded, a softness in his gaze, noticeably taken with the woman, which was unsurprising. She had a way of standing out from every other woman we had ever known, especially here at court. I found Baer toward the back of the room near the tables with a glass of wine in hand and a cocky, amused smile on his face, which was also glued to Rhowyn as if she were a magnet drawing him in against his will.

I studied the other Chosen and their Consorts, searching my mind for everything I knew about them. Some I knew better than others, and I couldn't help thinking of what Rhowyn would be up against should she have to continue with the trials. During the previous ceremony, I had been initially surprised to see that Genevieve was one of the Chosen, but when I remembered her power levels, it made sense. I hoped that any of the others would win the trials over her and her Consorts. There was a reason she was popular at Court and a favorite of Mother's. While she was without a doubt beautiful, her thorns were poisonous.

At one point, she had set her sights on me, and it had taken a precarious dance to disentangle myself from her grasp without invoking her wrath. Thankfully, I reminded her that mated fae were unable to compete in the trials and that we should not rush our oaths. She had agreed, and I’d been trying to avoid and distance myself ever since.

Her ice blue eyes were currently zeroed in on Rhowyn, and I could see the calculation in them. She found Rhowyn to be a threat for whatever reason, and I seriously hoped that I wasn't the cause. Geneivieve was not a foe that anyone would choose to have. I made a note to remind myself to give Rhowyn a head's up about her when I got the chance. We'd need to double check the shadows to ensure she wasn't watching or scheming. This new development would make meeting with Master Jude in private more difficult, unless I found a way to make sure that it didn't need to be a secret.

Perhaps I could arrange lessons for Rhowyn since she was so far behind the others in all categories and deserved an equal chance. She would need instruction on history, society, and with her magic, if she even had access to any. We had yet to even see a spark or hint of her powers.

I wondered if her glamor was blocking her access to them, and if so, we would need to find a way to break it. I had never seen a glamor like hers that didn't fade even with the drain of Earth's technologies or that bound a fae's access to their magic. The kind of power it would take to create would be almost unheard of, and the knowledge would most likely be forbidden. We wouldn't want anyone to know how to escape or evade us to Earth; criminals and enemies to the crown would take advantage of that knowledge in a heartbeat.

Master Jude began chanting, his priests joining in, their voices echoing and ringing out in the silence as everyone now watched. He began brushing the mixture into a pattern on Rhowyn’s exposed skin. Mother leaned forward on her throne, eyes narrowing in focus as she watched every movement from Rhowyn and Master Jude. The power in the air rose and increased in pressure as the priests’ voices grew louder, causing Rhowyn to gasp softly at whatever she was feeling now. I could feel the magic circling the room, as if seeping into the pores of everyone present, the hairs on my arms and neck standing up at the sensation.

Suddenly, the chant ended, and Rhowyn gasped out loud again. This time she could be heard by everyone as a wave of magic flew through us all with her as the center of it. Before I could think on that more, a crushing pain snapped into my awareness, my vision darkening at the edges with its intensity. I locked my knees, which threatened to buckle under me.

The pain seemed to crawl through my veins and nerve endings all at once before concentrating and narrowing down to a single point of focus. As it did so, it felt like being stabbed over twenty times with a dull knife in the same spot. An impossibly painful sensation that ended quickly despite seeming to last for hours.

The pain lingered in the back of my mind, gone but not. I felt sweat beading on my face with a couple of drops rolling down the back of my neck, my breaths shaky. And even though I noticed all of this, it was at the back of my mind, my eyes locked onto Rhowyn's as I felt a tether now connecting us, ending at the mark that now sat on my skin over my heart. I didn't have to look to know it matched hers and that I had been chosen as one of her four consorts to compete in the trials.

This connection was unlike anything I had ever known, and yet I didn't want it. It felt like shackles binding me in place and keeping me from the freedom that I’d been desperately longing for. I had been hoping for it far more than I had realized because now that I’d lost the chance at it, I could feel the disappointment crushing me.

I turned to leave, needing to escape this feeling, but as I did so, I noticed my mother looking almost giddy as she realized that I was now a Consort just like she’d wanted from the start. I felt sick at all of it, and so I escaped it all, at least for the night.

Chapter Seventeen: Rhowyn

The ceremony was now complete, my consorts chosen. The crowd murmured in shock as we all realized that the prince was among them, my eyes locking with his. I watched him as he came to the same conclusion after enduring the pain, barely flinching in the face of it. When it dawned on him, his face paled further, his fists clenched, and his eyes widened as they met mine. Jerking them away, he glanced at his mother before running away.

I could admit to myself, even if I would never do so to anyone else, that his reaction had hurt. Knowing that he hated being my consort so much that his unflappable façade failed. He’d wanted to get as far away as he possibly could, as quickly as he could. My cheeks burned in embarrassment as the crowd watched him flee, my anger quickly flaring to protect me from the hurt and pain his actions were now causing me.

Well, fuck him too. It was a good thing this wasn't permanent. I still had every intention of withdrawing from the trials and returning home. The sooner the better because it meant less time that I had to deal with that asshole. I should have known better than to expect anything else from him, but after our walk down to the ceremony, I had thought we had reached an understanding of sorts. Which was probably why his recent actions hurt me so damn much. The fucker.

Master Jude clapped a hand to my shoulder, drawing me back from my thoughts, but my anger and irritation remained. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “I haven't felt a reaction like that from the land in a very long time. The magic completed tonight was very strong indeed.” He grinned at me widely with what looked like pride, as if I had accomplished some daunting task instead of just being a warm body, present but not really a participant.

I thought what I’d felt running through my body during his chanting had been normal, the sensations of magic moving through as it grew in strength. It had felt so completely foreign to anything I had ever felt or known before. “Does that mean anything?” I asked him, not knowing anything about what was and wasn't normal.

“It means everything,” he told me softly, but before he could elaborate, the Queen swooped in. He bowed as she drew close to us, and I followed his example. I still didn't know how to respond to royalty, so I relied on imitation to bumble through what I thought was appropriate.

Master Jude greeted the Queen while I kept quiet. When I was younger, I had heard a saying that “Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps his mouth shut.” There was no better time than now to employ that tactic. At least I could ensure I wouldn't put my foot in my mouth.

“Your Majesty,” he said before standing back up and waiting to hear the reason for her attention.

“Master Jude, I'm so grateful that my son was finally chosen as a Consort, as he should have been all along.” She turned to me then. “Rhowyn, you have gained an asset tonight with my son in the upcoming trials. You may have a chance at actually succeeding now.”

This bitch. To speak of Lennox as nothing more than his powers and as just an asset. As if I needed his help to succeed. I had never failed at anything I’d set my mind to before, and I knew I could do well on my own without the asshole. For her to assume otherwise when she didn't even know me was foolish and would eventually be her downfall, I was sure. Too bad I wouldn't be the one to do it.

I didn't say any of that, instead allowing her to underestimate me. I smiled at her, tongue in cheek. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Lennox is unmatched in a number of things as I have learned. At least in my humble opinion.” An unmatched asshole and flake.

She smiled back at me, her eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing my sarcasm but unable to say for sure that's what it was. “He certainly is.” She addressed Master Jude but maintained eye contact with me. “Master Jude, surely there must be something we can do to remove this child's glamor, so she doesn't have to keep looking so...human.” She said human as if talking about shit on the bottom of her shoe. Finally, she turned to look at him as she continued, “My son tells me that he tried during their travels to remove her glamor, but none of them were successful. Have you ever heard of anything like this before?”

“Hmm...” He paused to consider this information while I stood there, clasping my hands in front of me to keep me from lashing out at her blatant snobbery and sneering. If this was what it meant to be queen, I sure as shit didn't want it.

“I can’t be certain until I’ve learned more about the glamor itself,” he told the Queen and then turned to me. “Do you mind if I assess you? It won’t take long.”

“Of course,” I told him, my tone softening as I spoke to him. If I had a grandfather, I would have wanted him to be like Master Jude.

He stepped closer to me, raising his hands to my shoulders, stopping just short of touching me, and I felt warmth spread through me starting at those points and spreading outward. It wasn’t unpleasant, but I did have to keep myself from squirming under the unusual situation.

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