Page 22 of Forbidden Obsession
Treason.
Is that what I’d be doing? The word sounds so serious for such a small act. To sign or not to sign. To declare or not to declare. Not making the journey to Lemossin doesn’t feel like it should be a crime.
Vander continues, his voice drowning out a low rumble of thunder in the distance. “What’s the problem? Youareloyal to our queen, aren’t you?”
No. I’m decidedly not. I have nothing against the woman, but I don’t know her. I owe her nothing.
“Yes,” says Falen without hesitation. “Though you must agree, making the trip to Lemossin is a hassle. Round and back will take a month at least and require quite a bit of coin for the journey. Inns, horses, food. It’s a lot to ask.”
Thankfully, he answered so that I don’t have to. Jindal’s orange gaze studies my face. What’s he thinking?
“Why couldn’t the royal delegation have brought the cursed thing here when they passed through?” asks Salah.
The twin next to her, Arrow, I think, adds, “Yeah. If it’s just a fancy piece of parchment to sign, why not make it easier for the mixlings to do?”
Why, indeed? It hadn’t occurred to me they might be gathering us to the capital for some other more nefarious reason, but now that it has, I won’t be able to banish the fear from my mind. I hope that’s not the case.
“I don’t want to go,” I admit. “My work is here, and so is Jindal.”
“I don’t see that you have a choice,” says Vander, which is quite unnecessary after the wholetreasoncomment earlier.
Jindal curls closer to my side. His silence is odd. He’s usually my little chatterbug.
“You could bring Jindal with you,” says Bird. “If we can make the extra coin in time, I’m going to tag along with Falen. I’ve never been to Lemossin.” Her sweet, encouraging smile is lovely, but Jin and I don’t have the coin to spare. Nor the time to try to make any extra. Nor the extra set of hands on the farm, even if we had the money.
“I want him to stay.” Jindal’s words come out softly. He speaks like this when he’s deep in thought. I’m both relieved and saddened that the gravity of the situation finally seems to be hitting him. I squeeze his arm in the crook of mine, relishing the warmth of him beside me as the wind further chills the air. If it weren’t for the fire, we’d be shivering.
I turn the subject back to the revolt, trying to get more information out of Vander while I have the chance. “What did the humans cite as their reason for the violence? Did your cousin say anything else?”
Vander shrugs as if this part isn’t important, whereas to me, it’s the crux. “Too much work, not enough pay. Poor conditions.” He waves this off. “Just lazy if you ask me. Everyone’s got to pitch in. That’s just life.”
Easy for him to say. Vander does merely a fraction of the work I do around this town. My magical capabilities make it easier, so I don’t mind taking on the additional responsibility. But for Vander to call others lazy pushes buttons I didn’t realize I had. He is the laziest of our group, surely.
Must be nice, having the wealth of a family of merchants behind you, throwing coin at problems instead of actual work.
“There’s too many of them,” says Vander, and a chill grips my spine. “And they’re too busy making more babies to get their share of the work done. They’ll be sorry when the queen rallies fae troops. Numbers will never win over magic.”
The iciness spreads so intensely I tremble. Jindal’s gaze finds mine, and the worry in his eyes mirrors my own. He shifts closer.
How many of them think like Vander and are too polite to say so in mixed company? How many do not? I have my guesses as to which are which, but it’s unnerving not to know for certain.
The stuff of my nightmares flashes in my mind’s eye. War. Humans against fae. Suffering. Death. Blood.
“Troops?” Bird's voice has gone shrill. “You think the queen will raise an army?”
Falen encircles her waist with a comforting arm. “Surely it won’t come to that.”
“Don’t know,” says Vander. “But she should. Squash the rebellion in its tracks. Manage the population. Keep the peace.”
“Manage the population?” Asks the twin next to Lemon, probably Wilder.
“You can’t keep the peace by murdering people,” says the twin next to Salah, probably Arrow. It really is hard to tell.
Vander raises his brows but thankfully, keeps his mouth shut.
Bessa’s apricot pastries have gone sour in my stomach. There’s not enough cherry ale in Jodpirn for where this conversation is headed. I’d expected disagreement, opposing opinions, but talk of war as if it’s reasonable to think such an event is on the horizon? I could’ve gone my whole life without that.
And yet…the fear is no longer solely my own. At least we are together in this.
