Page 42 of Heir of Autumn
But that was the only subtlety to be found within the Queen of Autumn’s audience chamber.
Opulence. Elegance. Ancient wealth. The room was a lavish space, the way to the throne lined with chairs carved to resemble all manner of flora and fauna. Tapestries evocative of the quiet delights of autumn hung from the walls, depicting bountiful harvests, the rich reds and browns of the season.
Exquisitely dressed fae courtiers murmured among themselves as we entered. All bowed their heads as Prince Sylvain passed, and all laid curious eyes on me, his strange human companion. His lover, in fact. They knew, each and every one of them.
I swallowed, clenched my jaw, ignoring the sticky-sweet looks, the conspiratorial chatter of court gossip. Satchel patted me on the shoulder, as if detecting my discomfort. I gave him a nod and a small, grateful smile.
The queen sat upon a grand throne, its wood polished to a sheen that made it gleam like gemstones. Like dark citrine, or tiger’s eye. And amber. Always amber.
Just like her eyes, and like the many jewels adorning her fingers, draped and dangling from her throat. The Queen of Autumn wore a gown that could have passed for ceremonial vestments, so ornamental and intricate that her voluminous skirts alone would have taken dozens of hands to embroider.
The tight fit of her dress reached up to the edge of her throat, down to her wrists in crinkled, gathered fabric, a creamy silk that reminded me of ivory, of bones uncovered in a predator’s nest. On her head she wore a crown of golden leaves, as sharp as it was elegant, the ultimate symbol of authority in the Court of Autumn.
The Autumn Queen carried the burden of this kingdom on her shoulders. Not for the first time I wondered why there was no Autumn King. Queen Aurelia’s appearance said so much about Sylvain’s upbringing, the severity of everything she wore — the gown itself, her heavy jewelry, the elaborate coif of her hair.
No wonder Sylvain was so opposed to the very idea of clothing itself, scratching and complaining about even the comfiest garments I could find him. Standing attentively beside the throne was a younger woman with an easier smile, and a much more casual sense of dress. So casual, in fact, that she looked far more at home ranging in a forest or fighting on a battlefield.
Instead of a fancy gown she wore armor in a style similar to the palace guards, crafted out of hardened leaf and bark, light as leather and tough as steel, according to Sylvain. This was Princess Yvette, his older sister. She must have recognized me as well, showing me a knowing grin and a cocked eyebrow.
Queen Aurelia lifted her chin, smirking at Sylvain. “Ah. So my errant, hardheaded son returns at last.”
Sylvain chuckled, going down on one knee. “Please, Mother. It hasn’t been that long since last I saw you.”
“Arise,” the queen said, rolling her wrist and her eyes, even though I could tell she was smiling on the inside. “Come and greet your poor, distraught, long-suffering mother.”
The court tittered with amusement. Queen Aurelia remained seated as Sylvain approached her throne, bussing her on each cheek. He did the same to his sister. The two then exchanged what looked suspiciously like a fist bump. Sylvain returned to the center of the chamber, addressing the queen again.
“Mother, I would like you to meet my companions from Earth. This is — ”
“Ah, yes, your so-called friends,” Queen Aurelia said, the strength and clarity of her voice ringing throughout the chamber. “The pixie, and the human. Step forward, little one. You first.”
I stood stock-still, as if the slightest of movements would violate some obscure royal edict. What if I stepped too far to the left, slouched one side of my body too much, and ended up in the dungeons?
“Your Majesty,” Satchel said, flitting down to the floor and kneeling with his head bowed.
“Arise, youngling.”
Queen Aurelia folded her hands and tilted her head, smiling. Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad, after all. Satchel looked to either side of him, bemused, but rose slowly to his feet.
“There is no need for such formality here,” Aurelia continued kindly. “Tell me, what manner of pixie are you? Whence do you hail?”
“From the Court of Spring, Your Majesty. I apologize if my presence offends you, but I am bound by loyalty to my friends, and have yearned to spend more time in the Verdance for so very, very long.”
A wrinkle passed across Queen Aurelia’s forehead. Not disapproval, exactly, but a polite, quiet sadness. “It is hardly a declaration of war, now, is it? What sort of diplomatic relations would I maintain with the other kingdoms if I harmed every last pixie who dared visit my realm? Tell me, then. What is your name?”
“Satchel, Your Majesty,” Satchel said, more confidently this time, no more of the anxiety bending his posture like before. “I live in the Earth reality now, but my family is originally from the Verdance. I thank you for your generosity and hospitality.”
I cocked an eyebrow, then let it drop again, hoping no one had seen me. It wasn’t like Satchel to be so formal like this. I never would have guessed that he knew so much about royal etiquette. What kinds of adventures had he and Father gotten up to in the past? Either that, or he really was that charming by default.
Queen Aurelia chuckled. “So well spoken, and so courteous, too. A friend of my son is a friend of the Amber Pavilion. No question. Though a query does come to mind. Does it not unsettle you so, finding yourself tethered to a human mage?”
The air felt so choked, and suddenly so very, very cold. Satchel wrung his hands together. Yvette and the rest of the courtiers looked on, their expressions unchanged. An itch tingled on the end of my nose, but I fought the urge to scratch, knowing this would be the very worst time to draw attention to myself.
“Mother,” Sylvain said. “You promised not to do this.”
Her hand shot up, palm thrust forward. “Hold, Sylvain. Allow our guest to speak.”
Satchel glanced over his shoulder, eyes locking with mine. I couldn’t get a proper read of his emotions, a swirl of concern, anxiety, perhaps some fear. But he straightened his back, turned to the queen, and answered.
