A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(74)

My power—the last power of a long line of Human Queens—is diminishing, and I fear for this world if Eldas and I don’t end the cycle.

I frown at the thought.

“Apologies, Majesty, did I prick you?” the seamstress asks, looking up from the muslin she’s draping over my body.

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” I force a smile. I had been frowning at the realization that I’ve begun to care for this world—not just in the way that I care for anything living. No…I care for it deeper than that. Perhaps it’s the throne, or perhaps it’s Eldas, but I’m beginning to care for Midscape as though it could be a home to me.

I stare out at the statue of the first Human Queen, kneeling before the first Elf King, and can’t help but wonder if they will someday make a statue of me—the last queen. There’s no way to be certain that I am the last… But a nagging inkling whispers with certainty that I am. One way or another, the Human Queens will end with me.

What would you do? I wonder with an aching heart, wishing the first queen could hear me. If only you could guide me…

“Your Majesty!” the seamstress squeaks as I step off of the pedestal, interrupting her work. Muslin falls from my hips.

“I’m sorry, just a moment, I need a better look at something.” I quickly cross to the windows, staring down at the statue.

From this vantage, I can see details that are hidden by the queen’s hands when standing at ground level. Nestled in her cupped hands is a sprout. I was right—she’s not kneeling before him, she is burying something. And that something is a plant.

“When was that statue built?” I ask.

“Excuse me?”

“The one in the center of the lake, when was it created?”

The seamstress hums in thought. “I’m not rightly sure. It’s always been in Quinnar. Perhaps by the second or third Human Queen.”

One of the first five queens—someone whose journal I’m missing. “If it’s that old, how are the details still preserved?”

“I believe the Elf King tends to it.” She motions back to the center of the room. “May we resume, Your Majesty?”

I go back to the pedestal, mind whirring. The sculpture was an early creation, when the throne was young and the memory of the first queen was fresh. Is there a meaning hidden in it? Or is it truly just to honor that early queen? Those questions lead me to wonder what it might actually be depicting… Is it the creation of the Fade, or redwood throne, perhaps?

My thoughts continue to spiral around what I’ve read in journals, searching for a link to this revelation of the statue’s true nature. I might be reading into it too much. But I must find a way to break the cycle. That’s the only solution. If I don’t, Midscape will be in danger.

Then, I return to Capton and everything I’ve ever wanted.

But what do I want?

“What do you want?” the cheery seamstress echoes my thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?” I blink back to reality. She motions to the table of fabrics.

“For your dress, Your Majesty. What do you want? Silk, or velvet? Or perhaps chiffon? I think jewel tones for your complexion but I want to make sure I incorporate your opinion. After all, a woman’s natural beauty is enhanced best by her own confidence.”

She would lay an egg if she knew that what would enhance my confidence best would be a sturdy pair of canvas trousers and some kind of breathable shirt or tunic that I didn’t mind getting absolutely filthy.

“I trust your judgment,” I say, finally.

Her face falls slightly. “Are you…are you sure? Is nothing I brought to your liking? Because if it’s not I can—”

“No, they’re wonderful,” I interject. I hadn’t meant to offend her. “Let’s see…” I step down to run my hands over the fabrics, settling on one as light as air. “This one, whatever color you think is best, but this one.”

“Oh, fae-spun silk.” She practically purrs as she runs her fingers over it. “You have good taste, Your Majesty.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” I laugh. But a thought crosses my mind at the mention of something being fae made. “I hear the fae are good craftsmen.”

“The fae are skilled at their looms, yes. But the elves are the best craftsmen in the land.” She preens.

“Oh, of course. On my side of the Fade there is nothing more valuable than elf-made goods.” I smile and she continues to relish in my praise. I’m hoping I have her enough off guard to seize another opportunity. “I’ve heard a good deal about the things fae can make…especially things for celebrations.”

“Like faerie mead?”

“And more, I’ve heard.” I’m not sure how to approach this casually and can already tell I’m overplaying my hand.

A shadow crosses her face, but she brightens it with a forced smile almost immediately. “You honor us all that you’re taking an active interest in all the inhabitants of Midscape.”

“It is my role as Human Queen.” Just when I’m about to give up on learning anything more about glimmer, she surprises me.

“I’m not sure what you heard, Your Majesty…” The seamstress keeps her head down, writing notes in a ledger she brought. “But I…”