Page 6 of Their Chosen

“If you are not chosen tonight, know that once we are ready to start the trials, we will invite everyone back here to bear witness to the tasks that Avalonia has decided upon.” Master Jude concluded his instructions for the evening, jumping straight to the point. Despite the supposedly joyous occasion, the air was heavy with solemnity, and instead of cheers of excitement, the crowd remained silent as if mourning the loss of their current queen.

As Master Jude began the rite, I tried to steel myself to be chosen as a consort. There was no way my mother would allow me to gain freedom tonight, preferring instead to have any leverage on the future queen she could. I would be that leverage as the consort to the new queen, always having the ear of the monarch. At which point, I was sure Mother would see to it that her views made their way to the new queen through me.

As the chanting from Master Jude and the priests rose in volume, I looked over the crowd, each one transfixed on the rite taking place before them. I tried to spot the hopeful Chosen among them, each young female fae hoping that they would be selected. The smart or conniving ones hid that expression, not wanting to risk the wrath or jealousy from our current queen. Still there were a few who were either too foolish or too naive to keep the hope from their faces. Not surprisingly, I even glimpsed fear and terror on a couple of faces. It was barely noticeable, but having felt the sentiment many times over, I recognized it easily. My mask worked wonders for hiding that fear. My hope was that if I had to be stuck with a Chosen, it would be one of the ones smart enough to be afraid. They at least, had the wisdom to see that this farce was a means to an end for Mother. And they were humble enough to realize that they stood no chance against the power she wielded.

As I watched the crowd, my curiosity peeked through my indifference and feigned boredom. I saw a flash of pain on a couple of faces as one by one, the Chosen collapsed, none prepared for the agony. Their cries of pain sounded out in the silent room as the magic in the air peaked, the land reaching out and judging the Chosen women. The sensation of it washed over the room and out to those who were not of high enough standing in the court to attend tonight's ceremonies. The hair on my arms and neck stood up as it brushed over me, caressing me briefly before leaving me completely. Historically, the land, or rather Avalonia, our goddess, chose those with the strongest magic in them, and each of them would possess traits that would make them great rulers. Usually, the Chosen were all of nobility and should all be present tonight. Although, rarely, it selected someone of common birth for the honor.

Finally, the crying ceased as the women recovered, the magic waning. They were helped to their feet by those around them, their shaky limbs finding it difficult to support their weight. Smiling, Master Jude waved the women toward the altar, his eagerness evident. As each woman approached, she was directed to a spot in front of a grouping of cup, bowl, and brush. Each one appeared weakened from the experience but were slowly recovering their strength. Many were visibly paler, and some were even still shaking and unsteady on their feet, requiring more assistance than the others. I perused the girls wondering which one would be my queen and which one I might be chosen as Consort for. My eyes landed on Genevieve, who was standing on the corner furthest from me, with an almost smug smile on her face. Just as I saw it, the smile was wiped away, and she lowered her head, trying to appear meek and humbled.

I wasn’t shocked to see that she was chosen since she had already managed to garner favor from Mother through her ass kissing and ability to play the games often only found in court. She believed she was on par with Mother in her ability to build a facade, but I had always seen through it. And because she was so similar to Mother, I found it hard to hide my disgust at the thought that she might be my Chosen, knowing full well that Mother would love that pairing.

“Congratulations, young ladies. The land has searched your hearts and found that each of you possesses necessary qualities that are essential in ruling and maintaining the magic between the land and people.” Master Jude paused, probably hoping that there would be cheers or some sign of joy at the selection. At the silence that greeted him, he frowned and then proceeded. “Now, I ask that each of you pour a small amount of water into your bowls from your cups, enough to make a paste. I will then come around to each of you, finishing this ceremony by painting symbols on your skin. Once I have completed the rite for each girl, the land will then select your Consorts. Each Consort, handpicked for you by Avalonia, will offer something that you need in order to be the best queen for us all. Please know that they each have their own qualities which make them best suited for you. Now, let us begin.”

Master Jude began making his way around the table, stopping at each Chosen to paint symbols on her skin. Once he made the final brush stroke, the symbols lit up with a white glow until it appeared to explode from them. As the magic was released, four men were selected. Most of the Consorts selected doubled over in pain, but a few collapsed like the women had, buckling under the intensity of the magic. However, a couple of them bore the pain with clenched jaws and fists, the only evidence of their discomfort. With each girl, I held my breath and braced for the pain of the selection, hoping to find myself in the last category and not the one to collapse. Mother would never tolerate that show of weakness, not from her own son.

But as the time passed and the number of girls dwindled down to the last, I found myself fighting hope again. Genevieve was the last girl, and my hopes were torn between knowing I'd be chosen as her consort and praying that I just might escape this life. I tried not to trust the bubbling in my gut, that voice that said I had a chance at freedom. Instead, I braced myself for the pain because I knew Mother always got her way.

The symbols on Genevieve's body lit up, growing brighter until the magic erupted outward. I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable impact. Again, I felt the magic as it whisked around me and caressed my exposed skin, my eyes clenched at the feeling. But I felt no pain, no discomfort, absolutely nothing as the magic left. I opened my eyes quickly at the realization, hoping Mother hadn't seen that sign of weakness. Four men were still doubled over in response, obviously having been chosen for Genevieve instead. I fought to keep the breath I had been holding in from exhaling too loudly or quickly, not wanting to give away my obvious relief. As I let out the measured breath slowly, I realized that I had escaped. I was now free, and as soon as the new queen was crowned, I could finally escape my mother.

A small part of me, a tiny speck deep in my gut, was saddened that while I felt the magic of the land pass over me almost lovingly, it hadn't selected me. It had found me lacking in some way. Maybe I really was broken, and the land could see that.

“Ladies, I want to congratulate you all on being selected to undergo the trials. It’s an honor to have made it this far. With that, I offer my hospitality to all of you and your consorts while you compete. After all, only one group of you will inherit Cashel Rí this castle and become the new rulers. For now, though, please follow Greta, our head of staff, and she will show you to your rooms. I hope you find them to your satisfaction, but should you need anything at all, please let Greta know. She will do what she can to meet your needs. If during this process you need advice or have any other questions, feel free to reach out to Master Jude or myself. Enjoy your evenings. My staff will be in contact with you to let you know of any planned events from here on out.”

I stood behind Mother as she spoke and played the gracious host. No one had ever been a better actress than her, except maybe me. She trained me well, after all. Master Jude and two of his priests stood behind and to the opposite side of me. Each of us knew Mother would want to have words with us after speaking with the newly selected Chosen and Consorts. I was personally hoping to make it out of this room without having to speak or having to expend any blood. As I had learned, the best way to do that was to hold my tongue and to keep my head down.

I watched the guests leave us, following Greta and chatting amongst themselves, Mother holding a beaming smile meant to portray pride and joy. As the last guest left and when the door shut quietly after them, her smile dropped. She thrust out an arm and whispered a shielding spell, one I knew would make sure that we weren't overheard, no matter how much noise was made. She then turned to face those of us left with a glare meant to cut. If only that was within her power.

Her eyes settled on Master Jude, her hands clasped behind her back as if she had to physically hold herself back. “Master Jude, please explain to me how it's possible that my son, heir to my title in the Winter Courts, one of the most powerful Fae in his own right, wasn't chosen as a consort? I thought I had made my wishes very clear.” As she spoke, her body strained in anger. While she wasn't yelling, she didn't have to; her ire was evident in every line of her body. Her hands remained clasped behind her back as she waited, not so very patiently, for Master Jude's response.

The priests beside Master Jude bowed in supplication, their hoods falling to cover their faces, but the old man held himself strong and upright. He wasn’t defying her outright but maintained his calm demeanor as if he already knew how events would unfold tonight. He held his own hands in front of him, his sleeves drooping to hide them completely. With a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment, he replied softly but with confidence. “Your Majesty, I can understand how it would appear as if the selections were complete, but I would like to draw attention to the fact that only fourteen groups left this evening.”

He paused as if waiting for Mother to draw the logical conclusion, but when that understanding didn't appear, he elaborated with an almost audible sigh, “In all the years past, there have always been fifteen contenders Chosen. We are missing a young lady and her destined consorts. This usually means that the Chosen is either not of the court or is not in attendance for whatever reason.”

Mother's hands released themselves to grab hold of her hips, her face shifting from anger to aggravation at the wrinkle in whatever plans she had made. “So, what does this mean? Do we have to wait for her before we can start? Or does that forfeit her ability to compete?”

“Usually, in cases such as this, the Chosen is aware of this and can find their way here to complete the rites. However, the magic tonight indicated to me that the girl is nowhere near us and may require assistance with her arrival. Normally, the trials won't begin without all Chosen and Consorts being present.”

“Do you have a way to find this chosen? And what does this mean for Lennox?” she snapped out as her patience wore thin.

“I truly believe that His Highness is indeed an intended Consort for our missing lady. As for finding her, I may have a way, if you will allow me a few moments to prepare a spell?”

“Continue. The sooner I have answers, the better off we will all be.” Mother gestured with her arm at Master Jude and his priests, her frustration and impatience notable in that movement alone.

Master Jude turned to his priests, and they whispered among themselves before rushing off to gather the needed supplies. While we all waited, I held myself still and avoided eye contact with anyone. I tried not to focus on the words Master Jude had spoken earlier about me almost being guaranteed as a consort for this final chosen. I knew my hopes of freedom had been too good to be true.

As Mother turned to speak with her own consorts, Master Jude stepped forward to interrupt. “Ahem. Your Majesty?” He paused to wait for her attention, her icy eyes meeting his, before he proceeded, “I will need a table or some other surface to work on should you wish for me to complete the spell here.”

“Very well. I'll have a servant bring one to us. How much longer will this take?”

“Not much longer, Your Majesty. It should work quickly, once my priests return, but I do want to caution Her Majesty that the spell may not work. However, I won't rest until we have found a way to make it work.” Master Jude rushed the words out, despite his confidence, aware that her patience was nearly gone.

“It had better work. It’s imperative that the trials begin as quickly as possible. You, of all people, should understand this need.”

“I will do everything within my power, Your Majesty, to ensure things run quickly and smoothly from here on out.”

My ears perked up at the allusion to weakness Mother had inadvertently presented me with. Since I had never been present during a transfer of power, I had to admit that I wasn’t exactly sure what would prompt the need. Like most, I had assumed it was because of a set time allotment for all queens, but now I couldn't be certain. Making a mental note to visit the library to see if I could find out more information, I kept my focus on Mother’s unpredictable movements.

The doors opened but instead of the priests, it was Callum who entered wearing the Cashel Rí servant's livery. His broad shoulders barely fit into the muted tunic, and his breeches were threadbare, conforming to his powerful legs. Callum and I had been close friends once and it hurt to see him in this position, knowing it was my fault he was. I was thankful he was still alive, though. Instantly, I knew why he was here tonight since this wasn’t his usual duties. He was Mother's message to me of what happened to those I cared about.

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