Page 7 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Oh.
“I don’t know,” I admit, after much thought. “I suppose that depends on Caed. I hope he’ll let me charm him and discover what his father’s orders were.”
Drystan draws up short. “You’d do that?”
I take a breath of frigid air and let it out with a slow huff. “I’m not going to blithely allow him so close to me without taking precautions. I want his permission before I do anything like that. And… if you promise not to punish him for what happened… I’ll remove the charm on you both.”
If Drystan is to trust Caed, perhaps I need to trust them, too. I still feel bad about charming them to begin with. It might’ve been an accident, but I don’t want to cross any ethical lines with my magic.
“That’s… sensible.” The surprise underlying Drystan’s comment makes my lips twitch.
“I can be, on occasion,” I remark dryly. “Only… I don’t know if it will work.”
My dullahan considers it. “If you ask the right questions, you might be able to work around whatever geas Elatha has set.”
The doors of the palace swing open to admit us both, and I grab his hand before he can cross the threshold. “You’ll help me? Without being mean to him? And you won’t hurt him if I remove the charm?”
His long groan is heavy with resignation. “Did you expect I’d leave you to question him alone?” He pauses. “He has until Beltaine, as Danu decreed.”
It’s a grudging acceptance, but I take it as progress and let him lead us through the halls, pleasantly surprised when he doesn’t release my hand despite the fae staring at us. Neither of us speaks again until we emerge onto the roof at the base of the crystal tree.
The battlements are deserted, and I frown. “I thought…”
“Not many will risk coming to a traitor’s funeral, and everyone understands the relationship between Cedwyn and the new king was?—”
“Fucking awful,” Ashton interrupts, from his place atop the bartizan. “I wanted to kill him and Hawkith most days, and now we’re finally rid of the two of them.”
Beyond him, two white-shrouded forms wait patiently atop matching altars in the snow.
“It might be prudent to be a little more careful with insulting them, given how Archibald haunted Cedwyn,” Drystan remarks, releasing my hand to step closer.
Ashton just snorts. “I have it on good authority that the Wild Hunt will be collectingallwayward souls from Calimnel this year.” He sighs, looking back at the bodies. “Can we get this over with?”
Drystan climbs the short set of stairs with sure feet until they’re side-by-side, his posture stiff as he regards the smaller shrouded figure.
What does he see? A traitor to the crown who used him at every opportunity? Or the mother who raised him despite her faults?
I take my spot on his free side, tucking myself beneath his arm and wrapping my arms around him for comfort. For all that he seems unaffected, it’s no easy thing to bury a parent—let alone two. Cedwyn wasn’t truly his father, but for centuries, he believed he was.
There’s an awkward void between Ashton and my dullahan as they stare stonily at the silhouettes against the dark sky.
“This is more than they deserve,” Drystan finally mutters. “Hawkith, especially.”
Ashton nods. “They were both troubled fae.” Drystan snorts, but his father shushes him. “Theywere, lad. Cedwyn fell apart when Hawkith turned twenty-five and he realised the daughterof the male who killed our parents was his Goddess-given mate. It broke him more than Archibald’s haunting ever could. And for Hawkith, can you imagine being kept alive first as a reminder of what happens to those who crossed the Froshtyns, and later as the unacknowledged mate of the male who scorned you so badly? Circumstance wasn’t kind to either of them.”
“They could’ve risen above it.”
“It’s not so easily done.” Ashton pauses and regards his son. “I’m surprised they’re not hanging around you.”
Drystan shrugs. “Their spirits seem otherwise occupied. I’m fairly certain they’ll be busy squabbling until the Wild Hunt collects them.”
That’s a sad thought. “I hope, when they reach the Otherworld, they find some healing.”
In another life, one less cruel, perhaps they would’ve been happy together. I can’t imagine Danu making them mates if that wasn’t at least a possibility.
Ashton laughs. “Danu’s forgiveness is endless, or so they claim.”
Drystan snorts sardonically. “Then Rose is truly the Goddess’s daughter.”
