Page 2 of A Court of Hearts and Hunger
After their Chosen ceremony last month, they left to travel through the Seelie kingdom. It’s important for them to make appearances together, since not all the Fae are pleased to have a human queen. But I have no doubt Louisa will charm them all with her wit, beauty, and strength.
There’s another reason for Lir and Louisa’s absence as well. When Drosselmeyer sent his captives back through the portal into Faerie, a number of Unseelie arrived along with the Seelie. Lir’s guards took the Unseelie into custody, and they were confined in a prison in the south, until the kingdom could be stabilized. One of Lir’s tasks during this journey will be to meet with each prisoner and decide if they can be sent home to their own kingdom. Personally I would have them home at once, but I suppose he has his reasons for detaining them.
As for me, I don’t crave long journeys into the wilder parts of Faerie. I’m happy to live here quietly with Fin, painting, attending Court functions, and occasionally making visits to nearby attractions, like the Whispering Gardens and the Bright-Thorn Grove. The longest trip Fin and I have taken was to the Unending Pool—I wanted to see it first-hand, and Fin wanted a few samples of the water, which he collected in charmed casks. The Pool is heavily guarded now, and Lir has ended the practice of allowing the Unseelie to access it.
That journey was enough excitement for me. I’m done with adventure. The taste of danger I had during our conflict with the Rat King was more than enough.
I’m calm, settled, and content. I’m not jealous of Louisa’s new status, or the attention centered on her, or the fact that I’m merely “the human Queen’s sister” to most of Faerie, if they know of me at all.
I’m not one bit envious, or restless.
Not. One. Bit.
The bottles of paint clank together as I shove them back into their case, rather too forcefully. I’ve been getting stronger lately—setting aside time in the early mornings for combat training with a sturdy Fae woman named Zarai.
When I look up, Fin is leaning in the doorway again, arms folded, his pink hair shining in the shafts of afternoon sunlight from the back door. He’s dressed in a pale lavender shirt of gauzy silk, open at the neck. A pair of high-waisted black pants hug his long legs. Gumdrop earrings dance from his earlobes, and tiny gemstones glitter along the edges of his ears, all the way up to their pointed tips.
He watches me with narrowed eyes. “Something wrong, sugar?”
“Of course not. She loved the painting, and she gave me her name. It was wonderful, and I’m pleased.” I smile brightly at him.
He tips back his head with a low laugh. “Oh, sweetness. When will you learn you can’t fool me?”
“You think you know me so well.” I give him my best haughty frown, but he only laughs harder.
“That look,” he says, shaking his head. “You and your sister both have that same expression. But I like it better on you.” He paces toward me, a delighted warmth in his eyes. “That look—as if you’re so proud, so far above me. So bravely independent.”
My breath catches as he crowds me slowly backward, until I’m pressed against the wall beside the back door, which stands open.
“So very lofty,” he croons, his fingers twirling a lock of my hair. “So indifferent, and completely unaffected by a lowly Fae such as myself.”
The heat of him courses along my body, the air between us charged like the sky before a lightning storm.
He bends his head, warm breath skimming my lips. “Tell me, brave girl—what is troubling you? I will rectify any problem, provide anything you might require for perfect happiness.”
“It’s not your job to make me happy,” I whisper.
“Oh, but it is.”
“I’m not one of your pets, Fin. Not an adorable creature to be patted and fed and charmed.”
A flicker of irritation in his gaze. “That’s unfair, Clara. Have I ever treated you that way?”
“Maybe, without realizing it. You’ve encouraged me to stay in this city, apart from a few short excursions.”
He sighs, pushing back from me. “I suppose that’s fair. I feared for your safety. The kingdom is still volatile, and it can be unsafe for a human even at the best of times. But if you prefer to be more like one of my weasel-cats, coming and going as you please, unescorted—” He winces, as if relenting pains him deeply— “then you must do it. You are not my prisoner, but my partner. Do anything you like, my love. Go anywhere. But don’t blame me if I prowl behind you or hover above you to make sure you’re safe.”
“And if I don’t want you hovering or prowling?”
He bites his lip with his sharp teeth.
“Fin,” I say sternly.
“You can’t wander alone through Faerie.”
“But if I want to, you’ll let me.”
He rocks his head back and groans. His gauzy wings flutter in agitation. “You are your own master, and I trust that you’re wise enough to ensure your safety.”
