Page 48 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

The first to speak was the female holding Aisling. “A girl, a beast, and a…” She sniffed and her voice took on a tone of disdain. “A changeling. What cause have you for entering our realm?”

“We’re acquaintances of the dryads; they granted us passage to visit your court.” Rodney bowed his head, shooting Aisling a look wordlessly urging her to do the same.

Instead, Aisling straightened her posture as much as the guard’s tight grip would allow. “My name is Aisling, and I’m the Red Woman. I’ve come with the White Bear seeking an audience with your queen. Thepúcais my escort.”

She’d practiced saying those words out loud the night before, then again and again in her head as she and Rodney climbed up to the overlook. But she hadn’t planned to say them outright—she’d hoped to save them for the right time, the right audience. So when the words formed on her lips seemingly of their own volition,coming out even stronger and surer than she’d rehearsed, both she and Rodney were caught off-guard. He stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.

A tense silence fell over the guards for a brief moment, before they began speaking rapidly to each other in a language with a lyrical cadence that was both foreign and strangely captivating. Their words flowed together as melodically as birdsong. Though she couldn’t understand the meaning behind the sounds, the beauty of the language itself was undeniable. Rodney looked less than impressed.

By the deferential tone of the other three, Aisling guessed that the faerie still holding a dagger to her throat was in charge of the group. When they quieted, she lowered the dagger. The male behind Rodney followed suit, and he sucked in a ragged gasp as though he’d just been strangled. Aisling had to bite back a smirk; she’d been through far worse in the Unseelie Court, and she’d been alone then. Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so afraid.

She tipped her chin upwards, looking to the sky. Two of the faeries followed her line of sight. “Aethar sent the red sun as one of your signs; the convergence has already come and gone. I’m here now, and I wish to speak with your queen.”

The other three stepped back, and the broad-shouldered female began walking away from the group. “Keep up,” she called over her shoulder.

The valley before them, lush and green, glowed golden just as Aisling’s mother had described. Wildflowers in soft pastels blanketed the ground nearly as thick as the grass, scenting the air with their sweet perfume. A warm breeze whispered across hercheeks and invited her deeper into the Seelie Court. It carried with it soft strains of a tune being played somewhere in the distance. The quiet song pulled at an invisible string woven between Aisling’s ribs, calling her to run. To play. To dance. It buoyed her spirit and she shed all of the pain she’d carried with her through the Veil like a sodden cloak. She let it drop to the ground and walked away from it lighter.

Rodney noticed the faraway look in her eyes and elbowed her sharply. “Watch yourself,” he cautioned. Aisling shrugged off his warning and glanced down at Briar, who had settled down and now seemed just as enthralled as she was. Had he not been leashed at her side, he would likely have raced off into the tall grass after one of the tiny faeries that rose up and fluttered away as they passed by.

Beads of sweat were beginning to form beneath Aisling’s hair; both she and Rodney had to strip off several layers as they walked. The faerie ahead of them was wholly unbothered by the heat, even laden with armor as she was. Her helmet must have been stifling. Aisling wondered about the distance between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. It had appeared vast on the map in Kael’s study, but it must have been even greater than she’d thought for the climates to be so strikingly varied.

The guard’s path cut down a low hill toward a small lake. The crystalline blue of the water, only a few shades deeper than the sky, glittered in the sunlight where ripples spread from things darting unseen beneath its surface. Tall, swaying cattails bordered the shoreline. Sprites, similar to the one Aisling had rescued all those weeks ago, clung to the stalks at different heights. They cackled as their perches danced back and forth. The scene made her wish she coulddraw, or paint, or otherwise capture it in some way as her mother had. Her memory wouldn’t do it justice.

There was a figure in the lake, submerged save for the very top of their head. Long tendrils of ebony hair floated in a halo around them, drifting lazily with the currents stirred by their movements through the water. The guard increased her pace to reach the lakeside before Aisling and Rodney. Rodney caught Aisling’s wrist and urged her to wait. She was impatient; she had hoped they would be taken straight to the queen.

When the guard removed her helmet, a long auburn braid unfurled and fell down her back. She called out to the figure in the water in their singsong language. Aisling thought she heard her name and listened more closely. The figure hardly acknowledged her words, lifting one hand out of the water to beckon dismissively. The guard shook her head, then twisted up her braid and repositioned her helmet. She turned and gave a sharp nod before retreating in the direction the group had just come from. Aisling watched, confused.

“Should we—” she began, looking over at Rodney and turning to follow the guard. She halted when she noticed his face. Rodney was gazing slack-jawed at the water, eyes wide and glassy, with a vivid blush creeping up into his cheeks.

The figure in the lake had risen to stand, the waterline now just reaching her bare stomach. She pushed her dark hair back from her face, which had all the sharp angles and upturned features Aisling had come to expect in the Fae. She moved languidly towards the shore, each step revealing more of her body. Two gossamer wings followed, trailing behind her like the train of a gown.Droplets of water slid down every curve of her immaculate porcelain skin. They caught the sunlight as they moved: tiny, glittering diamonds that made her luminous complexion even more radiant.

“Stay here.” Aisling tapped her fingers under Rodney’s chin to close his mouth then led Briar down to the edge of the lake. Wholly unashamed of her nude body, the faerie crossed the last few yards entirely exposed. Aisling remained spellbound by her ethereal features: the elegant curve of her neck, the slender lines of her limbs, the shimmering strands of dark hair that clung to her form like liquid silk. Absolute, unrivaled beauty in its purest form—the kind that inspired songwriters and artists, a muse to their craft.

“The Red Woman,” the female marveled. “We’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“You knew I was coming?” As the faerie stood nude before her, Aisling cast her eyes downward. She didn’t possess the countenance of a warrior, as Kael did, but of a royal. This was the queen—Aisling could feel it. She wondered briefly whether she should curtsy or bow.

The faerie stopped once they were standing nearly toe-to-toe, then cupped Aisling’s cheek with a damp hand to tilt her face upwards. Aisling let her, lifting her gaze along with it to meet the queen’s eyes. They were a deep shade of purple, like two flawless amethysts. They stared straight into Aisling—straight into her mind, her soul. If the queen had been able to see all of her deepest, innermost secrets, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised. As it was, the queen’s violet eyes seemed to hold just as much awe as her own.

“My sweet girl, from the moment our sun rose red, I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d meet. Aisling, is it?” WhenAisling nodded, still held captive by those eyes, she smiled. “I’m Laure. Welcome to my court.”

Aisling couldn’t help feeling moved by the benevolence in Laure’s tone. It carried an almost maternal tenderness, as if she were soothing a wounded fawn. It was enough to make her regret ever setting foot in the Unseelie Court in the first place. Here, she was welcomed. Loved, even. There…she couldn’t imagine what Kael must think about her now without bile forcing its way up her throat.

“It’s an honor, Your Highness.” Aisling dipped her head, careful to look away from the queen’s body.

Laure looked down at herself, as if realizing for the first time that she was still nude. She laughed and reached for a light, backless cotton gown that hung from the tip of a cattail. “I suppose this was not the welcome you expected. I’m afraid I’ve grown rather accustomed to doing as I please here; we all have. Even our visitors tend to embrace it once the shock wears off.” She winked at Aisling as she carefully arranged the dress around her wings.

A brief electric thrill zipped up Aisling’s spine when she realized for the first time how constricting her own clothes felt against her skin.

“It’s beautiful here,” Aisling said sincerely.

Laure smiled, smoothing her hands over her bodice. “It is, isn’t it?” She looked down then, at Briar. “And am I correct to assume that this is the White Bear?”

Aisling nodded and nudged him to sit. “Briar. White, though not exactlya bear.”

A warm laugh again escaped Laure’s lips, and Aisling felt a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that she was the one who had brought forth that musical sound.

“Fae prophecies aren’t so rigid as they seem; they’re quite open to interpretation. In fact, I’m rather glad you didn’t show up here with a bear at your side. Come.” Reaching out, Laure took Aisling’s hand in her own. Her palm was cool and soft; a hand that had never known labor of any kind.

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