Page 13 of This Midsummer Heart
This stretch of road, and that forest, are starting to feel a little too familiar.
The trees sway noisily on a wisp of a breeze, almost as if welcoming her. History and elven epics will tell you countless reasons why the fae and the elves are enemies, but it often overlooks the simple facts: A dark elf’s natural home is the forest, and it absolutely rankles to see how traitorous they are around the fae.
So, more tired than I should be and as easily riled by Titaine as ever, I follow her.
“Titaine?” I shout after her. “Titaine! Coronette Circle is the first stop on our itinerary. We agreed! This better not be the forest of—“
The moment the darkness of the forest envelops me, I receive my due reward for remembering this place too slowly.
The wicked curve of a cold dagger presses tight against my throat.
Chapter seven
Bramble Circle
Auberon
MyfeetdragasI follow the wild fae leading us, elven bows slung over their backs as they lead us to Bramble Circle. My horse clops along behind me, tossing his head as I guide him toward the fae circle. I had always thought horses sympathetic animals, but this one seems to miss the rising tension in my body.
I am remembering just how little I enjoy the wild fae. And that the feeling is mutual.
No wonder Titaine tricked me into thinking we’d spend the night at Coronette Circle. It’s true that the fae there are so much more civilized, but the biggest mark in their favor is the fact that they aren’t holding a perceived slight from my wedding to Titaine over my head.
Even now, it’s clear that the free fae of Evermore Forest haven’t gotten over that. The blade at my throat is just the beginning. These fae never forget a slight. And I meannever.There is no shortage of laughter at my expense as the local fae lead us back to their circular settlement woven in among the trees.
I’m tired enough to forget their attempts to humiliate me the moment I spot their houses. At last, rest is just steps away. The homes of Bramble Circle are built into the earth in the wild fae style, thatched by moss, rising just high enough above ground level to furnish the homes with windows. Stone chimneys that puffed merrily when last I was here are now quiet and cold, and for good reason. This forest is dense enough that the air is stifling.
These accommodations will be humble, but after a long day of travel, they’ll feel like a palace.
“We’ll have a fine dinner tonight to celebrate your arrival,” the lead fae says, hooking her arm in Titaine’s as another fae takes her white mare’s reins.
“You shouldn’t trouble yourselves on our account when we’re just passing through,” Titaine replies, ever the diplomat.
“Nonsense! It’s all prepared.”
Prepared?As in Titaine had time enough to write to them when we only set the itinerary last night? I catch my teeth grinding together on one side as I realize she must’ve planned this while I was still abed. After years of marriage to a fae, you’d think I’d see through her tricks by now.
This is going to be a long night.
At last, one of the wild fae remembers to take my horse as one of their “Speakers” arrives to greet us. Or, rather, to greet Titaine and roll her eyes at me.
The Speaker—one of the wild fae’s wisewomen leaders—shows us to a guest cabin, where the air is damp but cool enough to provide relief. I have to duck to enter, but once I do the sweat turns clammy on my skin and some of the tension uncoils from my chest. I can’t deny how appealing the homey little bed on the other side of the room looks to me—even if it is a foot too short for me.
“I think I’ll rest before dinner,” I say over the continuing conversation. No one notices. They’re discussing crop yields now—the chestnut trees in this grove are part of the wild fae diet.
Another thing I don’t care for about the wild fae: their cooking. I think of the blueberry pie I scented earlier in the day with more longing than ever.
Come to think of it, I need rest much more than a hot meal with such company. There’s plenty of cheese in my pack if I get hungry. I could just sleep through dinner.
I shuffle my feet across the common sitting area with bedroom doors on three sides, ducking under the timbered frame and choosing a room for myself. No one even comments as I shut the door. And lock it.
It’s best, I think, to hide out in here for the night. For while the elves will still receive Titaine as they would me, I am not guaranteed the same treatment from the fae.
As I fit myself into the wild fae-sized bed, the journey to the City of Nox suddenly feels twice as long.
I pause in the doorway of the guest room I slept in last night, watching the golden morning light swirl through Titaine’s ephemeral wings. She’s busy sorting something—reorganizing her pack, no doubt. I don’t think she heard me open my door.
I take a moment to observe her, not quite sure what I’m feeling. The woman I loved and was ready to devote the rest of my days to is right there, on the other side of this common room. It’s almost strange to think we were once as close as that, when we are so distant now. I still know her well. Yet neither of us are the same as we were five years past, making her part stranger, part intimate acquaintance.
