Page 15 of Deliverance

Alaric freezes, his smile becoming brittle. The mayor begins to look nervous at the change in the prince, but he is no longer the focus. Slowly, the fae drops his gaze to the golden band on my finger. It feels like a brand, gleaming brightly for all to see. I have to fight the urge to cover it up. Why am I ashamed? Ihave nothing to feel bad about, besides, this is not even a true engagement.

“You are engaged.” His words are flat and without emotion, completely at odds with what I see in his eyes. He seems furious, although I have no idea why. Why does it matter if I am betrothed? If it were anyone else, I might suspect it was jealousy, but he only just met me, so it could not possibly be that.

Clearing my throat, I try to speak. “I—”

Whatever I was going to say is quickly cut off.

“Yes, I asked her today. We are to be married,” Robert announces loudly from behind me, his hands landing on my shoulders. He squeezes tightly in a reminder that I agreed to wear the ring for this meeting for the sake of appearances, so I just keep my mouth shut and try not to look uncomfortable.

Moving at a speed that makes me dizzy, the prince suddenly stands chest to chest with Robert, his teeth bared and hands balled into fists. The room erupts into mayhem, everyone shouting in panic. Blaise is trying to muscle his way between Robert and the prince, while the mayor is attempting to push past the guests in the room to get to his son.

Eyes wide, I watch the uproar, the noise so loud that it all merges together, ringing in my ears. The prince is saying something to Robert, but like all other sound, it is drowned out. Surrounded by fighting and shouting, I am completely overcome with emotion, so much so I struggle to differentiate one from the other. I wish I was back home in my garden, or even in the forest where my friend looks over me. This whole situation is making me feel powerless.

No, this is too much. I need to get away so I can calm down and evaluate everything that has happened. Everyone has descended into madness, and I refuse to be dragged down with them.

Slowly, so as not to draw attention, I stand and back from the room, my balance off thanks to my shaky legs. No one notices that I am sneaking from the room, fleeing as fast as I am able. Alaric’s eyes flick up as I reach the doorway, tracking me as I leave, and I have to adjust my earlier thought—someone does notice me leave, just not my supposed fiancé.

Warmth spreads through my chest that Alaric notices me, telling me that I should stay and speak with him. In reality, I know any answers I need are in that room, yet I am so overwhelmed and afraid of what I might discover that I give into my fear and slip away. Thankfully I manage to hurry from the house without bumping into anyone and am out the door and exiting the garden in a matter of moments.

I am so spooked by everything that I do not bother to try and mask my discomfort or slow my jog into a walk. Even if I stopped to speak to anyone, I would struggle to formulate a coherent sentence. Someone calls out my name, probably enquiring after me, but I keep my head down and hurry to the gate. People will talk, and by tomorrow, rumours will be flowing through the village like a flood. That is a problem I shall deal with another day, and it seems so small in comparison to my current situation.

Leaving Brine through the gate, I am several meters down the road when a thought occurs to me, and I suddenly stumble to a halt. What if the fae are still at the pinch point? It has never bothered me before. Then again, I have never had fae try to lure me away. My body is not weak, but there’s no way I could physically fight them off. It’s my mind that I need to ensure stays strong so I am in complete control of my thoughts and actions. I will keep my gaze straight ahead and stick to the middle of the road, not getting close enough that I would be in a situation where I need to fight.

I am armed with the knowledge of what they are and what they want with me, though, which is half the battle. Keeping up your mental defences is easier when you know that you might come under attack. This way, I can stay strong and walk straight past them, knowledge being the strongest weapon.

At least, that is what I keep telling myself as I walk down the road, my movements jerky and uncoordinated. I feel jumpy and on edge the entire walk back, my stomach like an empty pit of dread within me. My breathing is too fast, but I cannot seem to slow it down.

The atmosphere around me becomes close, the sun hidden from view as I reach the overgrown pinch point in the road. Every branch seems sinister, like long, gnarled fingers reaching out to take me, and every sound is suspicious, making me flinch away. I am tempted to run, yet I know that is the last thing you should do when a predator stalks you. Running just encourages them to chase you, and I am sure the fae love a chase. They might not even be here any longer, and the sense of being followed could all be in my mind, but I will not take any risks when it comes to them.

Thankfully for me, I make it through without incident, tilting my head back as the sun’s warm rays bathe me in light, instantly making me feel stronger. Sighing with relief, I try to get my breathing back under control and hurry to the cottage.

The familiar sight of the cottage soon comes into view, and to my surprise, my eyes begin to sting with tears—tears of relief, fear, anger, and frustration. Biting back a wave of emotion, I release a long, shaky breath and enter the house. If my mother sees I have been crying, it will only raise questions I do not want to answer.

“Mother?” I call quietly as I move around our small two-story cottage, but I realise quickly that no one is home. I am alone.

Usually I would relish some alone time where I could sit in the garden and talk with the plants and animals without judgement. Today is different though. My limbs still feel shaky, and my soul is unsettled. While I do not want to speak about today, having my mother’s comforting presence would remind me of what my life is really like—not this make believe of princes and promised women.

With nothing else to do, I go out into the back garden, the sight of the flowers lifting my spirits a little. Wandering over to the rose arch at the end of the garden, I trail my fingers over the shiny green leaves and beautiful blooms, where various shades of pinks and reds mix together to form a dreamy atmosphere.

If only.

I feel so agitated that I just cannot settle. Absent-mindedly, I think over everything the prince said and the fact he believes I am this person. Something I have not allowed myself to consider yet is what happens if theyareright? The best way to keep me away from the Unseelie is to take me far away from the forest, which would mean I would have to leave my family and life behind.

Sighing, I close my eyes and let my head droop forward, my fingers still entwined with the roses as I take deep breaths of their floral perfume. I know I will have to go back and face the prince and mayor at some point, including Robert and his fake proposal.

A sharp prick in my finger makes me gasp, and I pull my hand to my chest. I touched a rose thorn, and a small bead of my blood rests on the tip of the offending plant. Never have I been caught by thorns from my garden before, managing to miraculously miss them when working out here, much to the annoyance of my sister who is constantly getting poked and stung. She might mock me about communicating with the plants, but she has no faith.

The wound to my finger does not really hurt, it is more the knowledge of being injured by my own garden that pains me the most. Perhaps I am losing my touch, or the stress is making me sloppy. I look up, my gaze moving past the archway of roses and into the forest beyond. Filled with bittersweet longing, I fall into a state of melancholy, wishing I could speak with my shadowy forest friend.

He said he was leaving, and I had not realised just how much that would affect me. There would be periods of time when I would not see him for a while, yet I never felt this way on those occasions. It must be because I know he is gone and am fully aware of the strange hole he left in my life. When did he become such an integral part of my world?

It is not just him I am longing for, though, but to be in the forest where I always felt safe. Anger courses through me that the Unseelie have made it unsafe for me, taking away the place where I could truly be myself. Passing under the rose arch, I press up against the white picket fence that surrounds the garden. There is a thin strip of grass on the other side that is the final patch of land separating human territory from the fae forest. My feet move without me even thinking, and I slowly climb over the fence, pausing by the treeline.

“Hello?” I call out, my voice sounding weak and frail. “Friend, are you there?” I am pleased that I sound stronger, although I realise how stupid I sound. If only I knew his name so I could call him properly. “Seeing as you won’t tell me your name, I am going to call you Forrest.”

I know the fact that I chose one for him, determined to have something to call him when he was equally as determined not to give it to me, would amuse him.

My skin tingles, and I get the distinct feeling I am being watched, but by who? Before I would have assumed it was my dark friend, Forrest, but now I know the Unseelie are stalkingthe forest to find me, so I can no longer assume that is the case. That should be enough to scare me off this stupid plan forming in my mind. My head and heart are at war, one telling me how stupid I am to be so close to the forest, especially with the warning I was given. However, the other is telling me to throw caution to the wind, cross that line, and find Forrest.

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