Page 1 of Courting the Fae Captain
BEFORE
It would take many years before the lord would understand the meaning of regret. He had never had to ask for anything in his life, short-lived as it was. Everything he had was handed to him on a silver platter, and when your cup was constantly full, it left little room for wanting.
No, regret was a foreign concept used by nameless males with no purpose or position in society. Highborn males didn’t regret or feel remorse. Especially not amongst necromancers. Powerful males had little use for the sentiment when there were empires to rule and enemies to fight.
Besides, the lord had the blissful crutch of nobility on his side, there to lean on should he ever need. For his was a powerful bloodline, with generations of ancestral lords. So, when it came time for him to marry, the young lord was more than eager to meet his new bride.
Of course, marriage in the Shadow Court was not without its traditions and tribulations, especially when it came to lords and ladies of noble blood. Fae lineage was a precious thing, and it was his solemn duty to sow the seeds of a healthy, strong bloodline in a healthy, strong female.
That’s where the Wedding Rite came in—a ceremonial affair that any would-be wives entered when vying for the male in question’s hand. It was a female’s greatest honour to participate. And only one female’s triumph.
The Rite was viewed as outlandish and outdated by some of the other Courts in Mithria, but the Shadow Court was home to a segment of the continent’s most powerful armies. Its ruler commanded the largest naval fleet and the only real port of trade for international and local waters. The Shadow Court had several of the greatest leaders the nation had ever seen, and it was for this reason alone that none dared argue against its traditions and ceremonies.
These trials were but a small price to pay for a female hoping to end up on the arm of a lord as powerful as this, which was also why they were only hosted when a member of one of the Court’s most notable families was concerned.
Blood. Magic. Strength. Power. Money. They were all anyone worth knowing really cared about in the Shadow Court. Such things were worth fighting for—worth dying for.
And the female who had conquered the Rite to win his hand? Oh, was she a fiery little thing. She did everything right, won every ceremony, and bested every other female in the fight for his hand. Then, when it came to marrying her, he took her hand and heart and claimed her as his own.
It wasn’t until their fifth wedding anniversary that he began to feel that ugly little thing called doubt. Fae could take a long time to conceive, but her failure to produce an heir was unacceptable. If he didn’t have an heir soon, his position—his very future and perhaps his bloodline itself—would be at stake. Mithrian Fae were always in one conflict or another, and denizens of the Shadow Court were always vying for more power and titles.
“Every female is tested before the Wedding Rite,” the male had hissed to his wife one day as he paced the extravagant marble floor of their bed chamber. He turned to her, furious. “I was assured you were fertile. You promised me a son.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied while placing a delicate hand on his arm. “I am trying.”
“Not hard enough.” He lashed out, his backhand slamming against her cheek. His wife crumpled to the floor in an instant. The male stared at her in shock. Not just against the act he had committed, but at how much he liked it.
He hadn’t meant to hit her. Not really. But it stirred something in him, filling his veins with adrenaline and lust. The smack of his hand against her cheek, the position his wife lay sprawled in as he looked down at her … the fear in those beautiful blue eyes.
Yes, the male thought.This would do quite nicely.If his wife continued to fail, he would condition her until she performed adequately. He considered her a beautiful creature—it’s not as if he didn’t enjoy trying, but her body was only worth so much if it didn’t entirely work.
“Youwillgive me a child. I will have you checked by the healer weekly. And for each week you fail to achieve this task, you will be punished accordingly.”
A single tear slid down the female’s face. “Please, I—” She swallowed, then tried again. “I love you. I want a child, too. You know I do.”
He held his hand out to her and could barely contain his excitement as she flinched at the sudden movement. But he kept his features neutral as he helped her up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Shh, my love. It’s alright. I forgive you.”
Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and she inhaled once before she straightened her shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I will do better, I promise. I will give you an heir the likesof which this Court has never seen. An heir who will change the course of history.”
“Good.” He nodded, pleased with the shift in attitude. “I would settle for nothing less.”
The casual violence that day was one of many occurrences that would follow in the years to come. Eventually, his beloved did provide a male heir, who died in the birthing bed that very same day.The male could barely tolerate her after that, and day by day, his wife’s joyous glow and bright eyes began to fade to reflect haunting loneliness and despair.
Until one day his wife produced another heir, healthy and whole.
A female.
This was an outrage that the lord could not accept. She had failed him in all the ways that counted, had made a mockery of his kindness and love.
She was punished for it for several years, until the lord deemed his child of an age to care for herself. And then, with his power and influence, he simply removed his wife from the equation. It wasn’t until many years later that the lord would come to realise that his heir would, indeed, change the world, just as his wife had promised. And years later, he would understand, finally, what it was to regret.
CHAPTER ONE
‘The Mithrian Fae are among the most ruthless species recorded. Unlike their elemental brethren across the seas, theirs is a race that reveres bloodshed and darker power. If you cross them on a bad day, don’t expect to see another.’
The Trials and Traditions of a Mithrian Fae
Ihad always known I’d never outrun fate … that didn’t mean I couldn’t try.
