Page 13 of The High Mountain Court

Fated love was another fae magic, the rarest magic of all. Some fae souls intertwined long before their lives even began. Their Fated magic was so strong that the bond was sometimes detectable even while they were still in the womb. Many of the richest fae families paid blue witch oracles to predict their children’s Fated. Others were superstitious and believed it was bad luck to know, but Fated love was undeniable.

Remy’s thoughts snagged on the words Carys spoke.

“Was?”

“She died before they ever met,” Carys said. “His Fated was a princess of the High Mountain fae. She died in the Siege of Yexshire.”

The darkness pulled in tighter. Remy’s chest constricted.

“Some say it is a fate worse than death,” Carys continued. “To live without that Fated bond can break people. Even worse, Hale knows he will never find it.” Remy swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “I won’t tell you to be gentle to him. He is a smug asshole sometimes.” Carys laughed. “But he has been through more than he shows.”

Remy gnawed her lip. An owl hooted through the forest, crickets quieting in response.

Carys turned back toward the firelight, the smell of the stew making Remy’s stomach rumble. She heard the faint laughter of the Twin Eagles and Fenrin. The Eagles seemed to have taken to teasing the young witch, and he delighted in being included. It was clear Fenrin looked up to them.

“You coming?” Carys asked, heading back to the campsite without waiting for Remy’s response.

Remy stared into the darkness, praying to all the Gods to tolerate the insufferable prince one more night.

* * *

It was another hard day of traveling before they set up camp. Remy dumped the apron next to the growing fire. Foraged food spilled onto the ground. Her feet ached after another tedious walk.

Carys added kindling to the flames while Talhan unpacked his pans. Heather unwrapped the linen around her delicate bottles, inspecting each one for cracks or loosened corks. Hale was nowhere to be seen.

But it was Briata that Remy wanted to speak with. The female warrior sat on her pack, sharpening a wicked-looking dagger on a stone.

“Do you have a knife I could borrow?” Remy asked her.

The fae’s slender ears perked up.

“Absolutely.” She grinned at Remy and produced a smaller blade from her belt.

“Wait, why do you need a knife?” Carys called over to them. She gave Briata a look as the warrior offered Remy her weapon.

“I want to go hunting for something to eat.” Remy shrugged.

“Is what we provide not enough?” Carys asked as she snapped another stick in half.

“No, it’s plenty, I just want to add something.” Remy shifted, feeling useless even for asking.

“You don’t need a knife, Remy.” Heather chastised her. Remy hated that tone. Her guardian was so demeaning to her sometimes. She made sure that Remy remained as useless as she felt.

“I don’t think you’ll have much luck with a knife,” Briata said, glancing between Heather and Remy. She flipped the blade over in her hand to pass Remy the hilt. “But it’ll be fun to see you try.”

“I hunt better alone,” Remy said, taking the weapon. She bobbed her head in thanks.

“You’re terrible at making friends, Bri.” Talhan chuckled to his twin.

Remy looked between them. Was this them being nice? She turned away from their campsite and toward the woods.

“Do you want me to come?” Fenrin called to her. He was crouched, unpacking the apron of foraged food. Remy shook her head. She missed the time she used to have to venture out on her own, having only her thoughts and silence as companions. Being constantly under the watchful eye of the fae was grating on her nerves.

Remy stepped back into the forest. Her bare feet were even more sore after another day of hiking. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to use those bloody boots before they chewed up her feet, but barefoot in the forest was where Remy felt the best. It was the witch blood in her, she presumed. She could move across the stones and scatter leaves without making a sound. She felt lithe and predatory when she was alone, like her magic rose to the surface of her skin when no one was watching.

The cool air pooled around her, her breathing slowed, and an invisible weight lifted off her shoulders as she sighed.

She heard far-off leaves scuffling and birds’ soft tut-tutting. It sounded like some kind of fowl. She scanned the forest, her eyes resting on a grouping of pheasant digging through the leaf litter far ahead. Her eyes widened. She would be a hero if she brought one of those back to camp.

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