Page 105 of Throne of Dreams
Words poured from her like a violent, rushing river. After their argument during Sunatalis, she’d somehow managed tofadeto the Autumn Court. That piece of information alone was enough to cause him to lose his grip on control, but then she mentioned a fox and how the Autumn woods seemed to respond to her. To recognize her. She told him how Casimir appeared first in his Drakon form and then shifted, knowing she was hiding in the forest. He processed everything she told him, and though he was furious at the prospect of her being alone within the boundaries of the Court that would see her handed over to Parisa, he was also grateful it’d been Casimir who’d discovered her and not some trooping fae. Yet he couldn’t gauge whether speaking with Casimir was such a good thing. It was difficult to discern if the Drakon would tell Maeve the truth or not, but hehadbeen the one to rescue her from the Spring dungeon.
He was debating whether to ask Maeve if she trusted Casimir’s word when Ceridwen spoke instead, and her train of thought was elsewhere entirely.
His twin’s eyes were round with something that could’ve been awe. “You met a fox?” she asked.
Maeve nodded once. “I did.”
Ceridwen’s brow furrowed in thought. “And what did he say?”
“Nothing.” Maeve shifted and Tiernan wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand splayed open across her upper thigh. “He was a fox.”
“Was he though?” Ceridwen’s head tilted in that thoughtful manner of hers when she knew she was right, and everyone else was wrong. “Truly?”
“I…” Maeve opened her mouth, then closed it.
Ceridwen waited, her features soft and calming. “Speak freely, Maeve.”
She tucked another loose curl behind her ear. “I thought it could’ve been Dorian. My father.”
“Your father,” Tiernan repeated. He had to admit, the odds weren’t likely. But at the same time, Garvan was not the High King, and neither was Aran. The shift of power had never occurred, which meant Dorian couldn’t be dead. His magic granted him the ability to shape-shift into any number of creatures, most notably a fox. Maeve’s theory could be proven, except for the fact that Dorian hadn’t been seen in dozens of years. He’d disappeared completely after Fianna vanished from Autumn.
“Fox formwashis favorite,” Tiernan mused, mulling the idea over in his mind. “And Queen Marella mentioned he lived, did she not?”
“She did.” Maeve leaned back, rested her body against his chest. “I mean, I thought there was a connection. He recognized Carman’s name when I said it. And he attempted to protect me from Casimir when he circled above us in his Drakon form. But then he chased a leaf…”
Ceridwen snorted and Tiernan laughed out loud.
“Perhaps just a fox then?” he teased, tugging playfully on one of Maeve’s curls.
“Maybe.” Ceridwen’s shoulders rose and fell. “Maybe not. Either way, I’ll bid the two of you a good afternoon and prepare for tomorrow.” With that, she twirled away from them, her footsteps more hushed than a whisper in the wind.
Tiernan wasted no time.
He wrapped his arms around Maeve, crushed her to him, and together theyfaded.
When they arrived at their destination, Maeve gasped and smacked him soundly on the chest. “A little warning next time, Your Grace.”
Tiernan didn’t miss the way she’d used his more formal title. She’d never done so before. In fact, it was rare for anyone to address him as such. But she did it as a sign of respect. Of loyalty. And it left him brimming with an emotion he couldn’t quite name.
She gazed at their surroundings in wonder, one hand pressed firmly to the Strand branding her heart. “Where are we?”
He bowed his head. “The home of your future Court.”
* * *
Maeve couldn’t breathe.Wherever Tiernan had taken her, it was beautiful. They were still within the borders of Summer yet one glance upward and there was nothing but devastating mountains. On the other side lay Autumn. The air was brisk here, cool against her heated summer skin. Overhead, the leaves were just beginning to change colors on the trees at the foothills and a river of emerald green cascaded down through the mountains. The same one, she realized, that broke off into dozens of smaller canals once it reached Niahvess, giving the Floating City its namesake. Here, the mountains looked grayish purple, a stunning backdrop to the lush beauty caught between two seasons.
And here, here was where she would build her Court.
She could almost envision it. A pretty little palace and the Spring fae—now her citizens—all living and thriving in a city full of shops and restaurants. They could rebuild their lives here. They could find happiness and purpose here. Perhaps there was even enough room for a vineyard.
“What do you think?” Tiernan’s voice hovered above her, and she turned to look up at him.
“It’s perfect.”
“But?” he prompted.
“You…you would just give me some of your land? You’d build an entire Court here?” She searched his eyes, his soul. “For me?”
