Page 58 of A Palace of Smoke & Mirrors
As a child, I supposed, it was only natural that they had appeared slightly bigger. Otherwise, they looked exactly as I recalled—bobbing heads with large, dark eyes, tiny mouths, soft tufts of wispy white hair, some with long, matching beards. All of them glowed with a bright luminescence that almost surely served as a protective measure. They carried magical satchels with deep pockets, which was where they used to stow the treasures they brought to me in the backyard of our first house.
As they approached to greet their High King, I wondered if they knew who I was—and found it very surprising, yet equally heart-warming, when they skirted the edge of the dais beneath Lucais’s throne and came to bow before me instead.
A few sharp gasps echoed between the stonework in the hall. On the other side of the dais, Wrenlock’s mouth fell open. But Lucais only smirked with a deep, relaxed, almost feline satisfaction.
I bent down to meet the Little Folk, extending my forefinger for them to climb up onto my hand like they had done when I was a child. Two of them did, the pearly luminosity around them making my eyes water up so close. My palm tingled as they walked across it and began to lay down scraps of bark from their pockets, manipulating their position with magic.
Naturally, I couldn’t hear them when they spoke because their lungs were so small and my ears were so large, but treebark messaging was how they had always communicated with me when they wanted to say something they couldn’t tell me in any other way.
I waited patiently for them to assemble their pieces the right way up. Once they had, they stepped backwards, tickling me again as they bent their heads to their feet in a bow. Holding my breath, I lifted my hand close enough to read what was scorchedinto the pieces of bark, mindful not to blow the tiny creatures off my hand with any release of my breath.
Welcome Home, Princess.
It felt like someone had knifed me in the stomach. I nodded my head once, gently returning them to the ground before any surge of emotion had me breathing too forcefully or accidentally drowning them in a falling tear.
I had been a Princess when I was a child. I’d called myself one, so it never struck me as odd that the Little Folk referred to me in the same way. I loved it. I wanted everyone to think I was a Princess. But the idea that they’d known my intended fate the whole time—that I was truly in line for a throne in Faerie through some weird, prophetic twist of fate…
“Auralie,” Lucais murmured. “Are you ready to begin?”
My eyes bulged in their sockets, though it wasn’t exactly like he could draw much more attention to me than I was already receiving. However, he could have easily spoken the words into my mind, so I had to wonder why he was making a point of checking withmeon when to starthismeeting in front of all of those faeries.
Unless he was merely trying to embarrass me, to test out how red my cheeks could become before literal sparks started to fly off my flesh.
“Um.” I swallowed, blood thrumming in my ears. “Yes?”
Lucais inclined his head to me before turning his gaze onto the assembly, the faces of whom all looked rightfully perplexed by the display. “Greetings,” he said, and his voice boomed through the room with a ferocity I had never heard before. It wasn’t angry; it was justpowerful. “I appreciate that all of you have made the effort to present yourselves here today. Please take note that we have representatives from five out of six Courts. Blythe’s Court of Darkness is an apology. Again.”
I raised a brow at that but held my tongue—both physically and mentally.
On the walk down after I’d quickly showered and changed my clothes, Morgoya had briefed me on the developments with the Court of Earth. It appeared that Gregor had gone dark, but his people behaved as if they were unaware, and everything was stuck on a business-as-usual cycle until the High King’s spies could obtain sufficient evidence to determine which approach would be wisest.
“I come bearing good news and bad news,” the High King went on. “Which would you like to hear first?”
Did he seriously ask them to pick and choose the order in which he delivers updates like pieces of gossip? Who is running this show?
“Bad,” someone called out.
“Good,” someone else said only a millisecond later.
“Bad was faster,” Lucais declared. “So here it is. The caenim are out of control. There have been numerous sightings of them across the realm, which I’m sure you’ve all heard about. They savaged Sthiara. Multiple casualties and missing faeries. I don’t know what their endgame is, but I do know they are probably starving from so many years spent scavenging the Ruins, and they are relentless.”
My confusion simmered like a cauldron filled with poisons and potions. He knew their endgame was to retrieve me—to kill me and bring my body to the Malum. At least, that was part of it. He wasn’t lying, but he was twisting things again.
What is he doing?
“I did not count how many attacks the Court of Light sustained over the last few months, but it’s more than enough to piss me off. I do not expect the number to reduce in the near future,” Lucais disclosed. “I advise everyone to exercise caution when travelling in the more regional areas within anyof the five accessible Courts. Do not let your guard down even inside the more heavily populated areas. I have secure wards up, and Caeludor is always safe. You are welcome to seek shelter here until the threat is neutralised. Please, tell your friends and family the offer extends to everyone. Unless you’re a Banshee or a caenim yourself, Caeludor will welcome you.”
“What’s the good news, then?” someone asked.
The High King grinned, winking at the crowd as he straightened in his seat. “The good news is that we’re having a party. These miserly beasts defy logic, but I have a plan to eradicate the threat that is not reliant on dialectics. So, we may as well celebrate now because we all know my plans are marvellous and usually always work.”
He nodded with conviction, like he believed what he was telling them—as if he, Lucais Starfire, the High King of Faerie and King of Light, wasmanifestingthe outcome he desired. And maybe he did. Maybe hewasright. Maybe he needed to appeal to a higher sense of power, above even his own, simply to keep himself in some sort of check.
There were a few questioning murmurs bouncing around the room. Some feet shuffled and hooves clopped. An Ogre coughed, the sound low and throaty. But overall, the crowd remained calm and impassive. I wondered if it had been his plan all along to let them believe a lesser version of the truth so they wouldn’t freak out.
Lucais had told me the people in Caeludor would panic if they learned about what happened in the Court of Light, and he wasn’t there to calm their fears. I assumed he meant by his words and actions, but rather, it seemed like his very presence was all they required to remain unbothered.
I could have sworn he was going to tell them about the Malum, though. Or was that simply what he wanted me to believe?
