Page 48 of Taken By the Fae King

“I will not be needing them,” I inform him. “I quite like the Fae style of dress. These are very comfortable.” I gesture to my pants and tunic dress. “In fact, I believe I much prefer this fashion to those in Florin. The only issue is the openings for the wings.”

“That can be easily remedied by a clothier.” He shakes his head. “It’s a pity your kind do not have wings. It would certainly make things much easier for his Majesty.”

His words draw my attention. “How so?”

“As I’m sure you are aware, the king and his family are directly descended from Queen Ilyra.”

I did not know this, nor do I have any idea who she is, but I nod as if I do. Something tells me not to show any lack of knowledge in front of this man.

“And while it is not your fault.” He spreads his hands wide. “Many will be displeased that her line could either end if it is found that humans and Fae cannot… reproduce, or if a child were to be born of your union with… unusable wings.”

“As for the wings, I can do nothing about that,” I reply, trying to appear unfazed by his statement. “But as for the issue of the ending of her line, Princess Emryll is directly descended from her as well, is she not?”

He purses his lips. “Yes, but she is not in direct line for the throne.” He sighs. “There is an option that has yet to be discussed.”

“An option?” I frown. “For what?”

“As you are aware, our people mate for life. If the King were to seal his bond to you, he may be left in a situation where he is unable to provide an heir. This could undermine the stability of his rule. Without someone to pass the crown to, that the people would fully support, it could create problems for his reign.”

Anger floods my veins, but I force my expression to remain impassive, not wanting to betray anything just yet. I want to give him enough leeway to hang himself first. I clasp my hands in front of me and lift my chin. “As advisor to his Majesty, what would you suggest, Lord Torien?”

His beady eyes light up as if he believes he has me in his snare. “Have an official bonding ceremony with the King, but do not seal it. Be queen to his majesty in all ways but… physical ones. Allow him to take a Fae consort that can provide him with the stability that, through no fault of your own, your biology cannot.”

He stands and clasps his hands before his back. “After all, this is not the first time such an arrangement has been made in the royal line. The King’s famous ancestor—Queen Ilyra—was born of the King’s consort as he too married a queen for an alliance while his heart had already been bound to another.”

“Have you spoken of this to the King?” I ask, my voice tight. “Does he know of your concerns?”

“He does, but… he is a young King and inexperienced.” He sighs heavily. “And it is my duty to do all that I can to ensure the crown remains stable and—”

“He told you no, didn’t he?” I challenge.

His eyes snap to mine, worry beginning to crack his façade of feigned helpfulness.

“You are late with your scheming, Lord Torien,” I say bluntly because men like him understand nothing else. “And you forget that I have lived my entire life in a royal court. I assume you must have a daughter or someone close to you that you would see in my place, am I correct?”

He clenches his jaw, confirming my suspicions.

“That’s what I thought.” I clear my throat. “I’ve heard that humans cannot have children with the Fae, but they supposedly couldn’t have them with Dark Elves or Dragons either, and yet, my sister and cousin both carry the children of their mates. Be mindful to whom you speak, Lord Torien, for one day my child may sit the throne and there will be no room for such scheming and prejudice in their court.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and he opens his mouth as if to speak, but I take a step closer. “You may go,” I dismiss him, reminding him I am queen.

As he slinks out the door, Emryll walks in, her brow furrowed slightly. “I meant to return earlier. I hope Lord Torien did not put you in a foul mood, as he so often does my brother,” she says, narrowing her eyes at the door. “He is a… difficult man, but my brother has kept him on as counsel since father and Lyrian’s deaths. But hopefully soon, he will choose another advisor.”

“All is well.” I smile. “I grew up in a royal court. It is nothing that I have not dealt with before.”

“Good.” She flashes a grin. “Would you like a tour of the castle?”

“I would love that.”

As I follow her, I do my best not to gape. The castle is nestled amongst towering trees. The entire structure is carved into the trunks and branches, just like the fortress of Corduin. But where Corduin was somewhat sparse and utilitarian, the palace of Sylari is wondrously beautiful. Vines and flowers weave throughout the palace, a lovely contrast to the light gray wood of the trees.

Branches and leaves form intricate patterns on the ceiling above and the air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The floors, walls and ceiling are so smooth and polished that I cannot help but admire the craftsmanship that must have gone into creating the palace.

I can’t help but stare in awe as I make my way through the castle. Each room is more breathtaking than the last, with high vaulted ceilings and carved archways. The walls are adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of the forest and the Fae. The furniture is delicate and intricate, made from the same wood as the rest of the castle.

This castle is not just a home, it is a work of art, a living, breathing entity that is as much a part of the forest as the trees themselves.

When Emryll leads me outside, I’m struck by how high up we are. The city is an extension of the palace. The entire structure is built in the trees, connected by rope bridges and carved stairways.

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