Page 3 of Veiled

Your future.

There will be significant loss, great pain, destruction, betrayal, scorn, and anger.

There will be death.

There will be blood.

There will be tears.

All ingredients for a brighter future, if wielded correctly.

Do not lose yourself to your pain.

For your pain, your humanity is your greatest strength, not the blade you wield.

Queen be wary,Níl aon ghrá ann go dtí go mbeidh teaghlach ann.

Níl aon anró anam ann go dtí go mbeidh leanaí ag duine.

Prologue

Unseelie Queen

I paced backand forth within my chambers, which were adorned in all black with obsidian walls, and the only color was the sun shining through the window. It’s been one hundred years since I snatched the power from that ridiculous sham of a Queen and her intended heir. Sure, it took countless amounts of sweet talk, amazing sex, which admittedly, I wouldn’t mind partaking in again, but when I finally killed the Queen while her daughter slept, I felt victorious. There is something to be said for a well thought out plan and takeover. But now, there is talk about a prophecy being spoken across the kingdom,MYkingdom. No, after years of planning and then years of breaking the Seelie people, a silly prophecy will not stop me from keeping control of the Fae.

I smoothed my black dress down and looked out the window, sipping from my goblet of fairy wine mixed with blood. More specifically, the blood of a Seelie caught trying to escape the kingdom. There have been talks of an uprising, people leaving the kingdom, and rebuilding the Seelie court elsewhere. I scoffed. They could try. I had eyes everywhere. If there was one thing I learned, it was that no one was ever as they seem, so trust no one and at the same time, trust everyone, as that gives your enemies the confidence they needed to act out. Bold people are easy to destroy. It was the quiet ones who needed to be weeded out. This blood belonged to one of the quieter ones.

“You may enter,” I said softly as a knock echoed throughout the room, from the door.

“My Queen, if I may?” I waved the soldier in and he bowed.

“Yes, what is the word?”

I swirled my goblet, I relished the feeling of taking the life of a subject, however loyal. Bad news was rewarded with death, good news with death. In death, there was power and if power was food, I was ravenous.

I frowned at the handsome dead Fae on my floor and sighed. He was good in bed. What a pity. Still, I guess I should have waited until he finished pleasing me, but news of the prophecy was whispered, and I was upset. Ah well, someone else will finish what he couldn't.

“Well?” I asked softly.

“Queen, the prophetess did indeed have a vision. She said that in two hundred years’ time, there will be a Queen born to challenge your reign.” He stood at attention, his black gossamer wings tight against his back. He was one of my favorite soldiers, having been with me since the start of the rebellion, one hundred years ago. I sighed.

“I see,” I said quietly. “Read me this prophecy,” I seethed, staring at my goblet in silence, until he was done. Overall it was an intriguing narrative; ‘Twenty years young, twenty years freed.’ The idea of a twenty-year-old taking my power was comical. I didn’t go through years of careful planning, having to fake sympathy and emotions, I shuddered thinking of all the emotions, reflecting on the infiltration, murder, and leading a coop, only to be put in any position where I would lose my power.

“I have a portion of the prophecy for you to keep,” he continued. “It will be a young Queen of noble blood born, but part of the prophecy was cut off, the prophetess murdered so she wouldn’t repeat her words,” he stated.

My eyes shot to him. “I see. Who, pray tell, killed this crone and took the prophecy?”

“Oberon,” he finished. I cackled, oh that’s rich. Oberon? It was almost poetic, an old Fae King and Queen going head-to-head. Intriguing almost, if I wasn’t certain that this particular King was equal to me in power. This wouldn’t do. There had to be a reason why he had come out of hiding and took a portion of the prophecy. He must have been close this entire time, in order to get there before my men, which was problematic.

“We’ll need to increase sentry watches. There should be no one in my kingdom I’m not aware of. Whatever hope this silly crone has brought must be met with force. Spread the word that I’ll relish in the death of anyone who leaves my court. And anyone who thinks that even two hundred years from now they can take it from me? I will hang their very wings from my throne room.”

The eyes of my soldier bore into me, and I knew he was shocked I would go so far. Ripping the wings from a Fae was the ultimate punishment. Not only did they not grow back, but the back never healed, so their wounds eventually festered until they begged for death. For only death from another Fae could actually kill a Fae. We were immortal but could be slain nonetheless.

“What else?” I snapped.

“The old Queen, her daughter, she lives,” he finished. I thought her dead, falling upon her own sword after realizing she had been betrayed, her mother slain, and then letting whatever ideations of love she may have had, stop her from fighting for her rightful place. Her lack of action further solidified my hold, I had many thanks for her. Whatever hope she would have provided dwindled immediately. I smiled slowly, not ideal, but this will work to my advantage.

“Interesting indeed. Well, that is your task then. Find her and gain her trust. I imagine it will be easy for you.” He nodded and walked out of the room at my command. I stared out the window and overlooked my kingdom. Hope is a fickle thing. Enough of it can bring just enough faith for change. Too much of it can cause false bravado. The facts will not change, I now lead both the Unseelie and the Seelie, the attempted deserters can live in their false sense of hope, but the loyal will know who will come out on top. I now have two hundred years to plan, siege, and destroy. Two hundred years to gain allies within the realm of Fae. Still, humanity? Who would be as foolish to possibly conceive a child out in the mortal realm where my hold still reaches? Who was brave enough to take me on?

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