Page 7 of Songs of Retribution

I’ll speak to you soon.

The magic slipped away and left me alone aside from the winter wind’s howling and the fireplace’s crackling. I stood like that for a few minutes before the door clicked open and I whirled around. I reached for my powers, leaning into my zevar that rested on my chest, but even with all the effort I had to give, it barely came, a drip of magic that I couldn’t quite touch. Damn these stupid cuffs and this cursed metal. Damn the fact that my father planned to use it to steal magic and kill the Prasanna fae.

The door creaked as the King stepped into the room, several guards shadowing him, but he flicked his hand and they exited before he closed the door behind them with a thud. We stood across the rug from each other, staring. His clear blue eyes flashed with something, but before I could try to piece the emotion out he turned and grabbed a chair from the desk, moving it to his side of the rug. He sat, raising an ankle to his knee and gestured like he wanted me to do the same. A few chairs were arranged in front of the fire, and I could grab one and move it, but I didn’t trust this man.

“I’d like to have a conversation with you,” the King said. He waited, patiently, and I could see Lennox in the sharp line of his nose and the assessment turning his features. I hated seeing my brother anywhere in this man. Lennox was too damn good for our father. With a huff, I walked over, grabbed a chair, struggling to drag the heavy furniture closer with my wrists bound. The King didn’t move to help or make any comment, he just placed his hands in his lap and waited.

Once I finally had the chair in place, one leg curling the rug’s edge, I dropped into the seat with less grace than I’d have liked. The effort mixed with the cuffs' oppression had left me drained and basic actions required enormous effort. I crossed my ankles and kept my posture upright, though. He could take a great deal from me, but not my dignity.

When I’d finally settled, the King shifted his attention towards the window where the snowstorm had picked up, blurring the world into gray. “The Seelie were once not a great people.”

He let that sit between us as if he expected me to reply, but I had nothing to offer. He’d violently arrested me and threatened every being I loved. If he expected me to sit here and happily converse with him, he was mistaken.

He twisted a ring on his finger. “Only a few hundred years ago—before your time, but not mine—it was common to use the word Seelie as a slur. If a fae, or even a human, were down on their luck, they’d say they were having a Seelie year.”

Despite my misery, my hatred of the man, and my worry over Sai, Neia, and Lennox, he had my attention. “Something clearly changed.”

“My father took the crown at a young age and decided we would no longer be a joke. The divine cursed the Seelie with glamour magic as a punishment, while they gave the other courts a great deal more power.” The silver in his hair gleamed from the fire’s golden cast. He sat upright, a seriousness in his posture, but not anger or violence.

I couldn’t make sense of the man. “You’ve outlawed magic.”

“A world where everyone is allowed to exercise magic is chaotic. It’s too often used for harmful or nefarious purposes.”

“Who should be allowed to practice magic then?”

He shrugged, the velvet of his jacket crinkling with the motion. “Those of us who understand the burden and weight of such powers and employ it to protect others.”

“You plan to harm others.”

His hand curled around the armrest. “It’s easy to see me as the villain, I suppose, if you’ve had your mind poisoned by the Prasanna.” He used their official title, and not the slur he’d created for them. Unseelie. Not Seelie. Not as good as him, is what it meant. “But I hold no compunction over my actions towards a court that once joined others in deriding our people and stole my wife from me. The Seelie deserve better, and I will do whatever it takes to protect them, to elevate them.”

“We’re already elevated,” I said. “We’re one of the strongest courts now and everyone knows it.”

“One of the strongest.” He raised a boot to inspect a smudge on the toe before dropping his leg. “Meaning we always live in fear of another court deciding to undermine us. And you must be aware, daughter, despite your limited knowledge, that the Prasanna could.”

“They don’t want to, though.”

“Perhaps not now.” His eyes tightened. “But in the future they may. I vowed when I was much younger than you and carried far more burdens than you ever have that I would do everything I could to protect the Seelie, even beyond my reign. And I will do so.”

“Protecting our court is good,” I said, hoping foolishly that I might sway him. “But we don’t have to do so against the Prasanna or the Froh or anyone else. We already employ the elves, which proves we can work with other magical beings. Maybe the fairy courts can co-exist and use their strengths to help each other.”

“The other courts do not believe the Seelie have any strengths.”

“That can’t be true. They fear the Seelie.”

He nodded. “Only because of our military background. My father and I have spent our entire lifetimes to achieve this. Your brother”—his jaw jumped—“doesn’t comprehend the weight of this role. I’d hoped that perhaps you did, that you understood survival and the importance of legacy.”

He feared loss, something I understood after our adventures in the past year. But he worried about losing his powers and legacy. It wasn’t the most important thing, and I wished I could shift his perspective and help him see the value in those around him. We stood tethered on the edge of a precipice, and with one comment we’d tumble down. My heart raced, but I had to speak the truth. “I’ve survived by having gracious people around me. The Seelie can survive through relationships and connections rather than dominance.”

The King wrinkled his nose like he’d tasted something foul. “My wife once believed the same as you. She was a tender-hearted creature. That was my first significant mistake in life, marrying someone who was too gentle. We had a tumultuous relationship as we never saw the world in the same manner, nonetheless I’d wanted to be a good husband to her. Perhaps I wasn’t designed for it, but in the wake of her loss I’ve put into place much she wished for: charitable efforts, higher wages for the serfs, and so forth. You see me as a monster, Lira, but I’m not. I’m a king who sometimes must do monstrous things.”

“You don’t have to, though. Don’t you think your wife made some good points if you’ve followed a few of her plans? You could stop this. Lennox could return and he and I could help you with the kingdom. We could… we could work together and move the Seelie forward to a better future.”

The chair creaked as the King readjusted, swapping his other ankle to the opposite knee. “My son means to stand against me. I’m almost proud of him for that, except he’ll never achieve it. He doesn’t have the gall.”

A spark burned in my stomach. Lennox had the gall to oppose him, to be honest, to protect Elisa, and endure so much. “You don’t know Lennox as I do.”

The King's eyes tightened. The fire crackled behind me and blended with the wind’s howl. "I am not proud of my outburst when we arrested you, Lira. It was a shock to find Eldrick had betrayed his oaths."

---