Sleeping Beauty (Not Quite the Fairy Tale Book 7)(19)

“Do tell,” he prayed.

“The massive statues at the gates of Ferren - and at the gates of your own home? They’re not exactly made of stone. These are the last twelve war machines of old. They’re programmed to protect your line - and should they fail, to destroy Ferren. The Fay elders posted some of the best amongst us where we live, to ensure that the damage is contained to your lands.”

He’d digested that. Mal was right of course. It had been selfish. But somewhere at the back of his mind, he couldn’t help liking that piece of information. “Who knows this? Why didn’t I hear of it?”

“The head of each noble family. It would be clearly written in their ledgers. And I suspect that you didn’t hear of it because you didn’t bother to read yours.”

Rupert conceded that point. “That doesn’t protect her.” Mal lifted a brow. “Aurora. Should there be a revolt, as I fear, these things might take care of me, but if they’re programmed to answer only to my genetic code, it won’t acknowledge Aurora as my child.”

Mal bit her lip. “I’ll build a chamber,” said she. “Something no magic or force can destroy or penetrate. Just your blood.” Catching his surprise, she added with a shrug, “Well, if I’m supposed to be a godmother, might as well act like one.”

So, in the highest tower of their highest dungeon, she came in secret and created the room where Aurora now laid.

And then, they’d gone downstairs, to celebrate the child’s birthday.



Mal sat on his left, closer to him than even Mark Stephenson, his advisor; just in front of Marina, who was on his right. Aurora had eaten earlier, but she was on his lap, a pretty gold diadem upon her head.

They chatted animatedly, of everything and nothing - and then, the first course was served.

His plate was the first to arrive and it looked delicious. Scallops and ham on a bed of crisp apples - all on a gold plate.

Then, the Queen was served the same dish, and every guest followed.

Mal came last.

Her plate was silver. And what laid upon it wasn’t scallops at all.

He didn’t recognize the meat but his gaze snapped to Marina, nonetheless. His wife was smirking.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded coolly.

It had been a long time since Marina had provoked Mal.

“Why, I don’t know. Perhaps the kitchen has run out of scallops.”

He wordlessly exchanged his plate with Mal’s, but the woman didn’t thank him. What he’d done didn’t register at all. She was staring at Marina, shaking with rage. Her entire aura darker than he’d ever seen.

“What have you done?” she demanded, her voice breaking.

A yell might have been less frightening than that low, emotional whisper.

“Why, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This,” she cried, “is dragon flesh.”

Oh, fuck. No. She couldn’t have. Surely. He was beyond believing Marina smart enough to not desire to poison everything she touched, but even if she’d had the will to do so, how could she have hunted a dragon?

With your knights, Rupert guessed. The perfectly well-trained knights she fucked and manipulated to her will.

He’d met Mal in his youth, because he’d been a curious boy fascinated with the world of immortal creatures - dragons, gods, elves, and Fay. Straying off the path where he was allowed to ride, to follow a trail of midnight flowers that he believed to be what unicorns ate, he found her singing in the woods.

Mal’s songs weren’t pretty and cheerful; they were dark, like everything about her. Edgy. No little ten-year-old boy had ever been luckier.

“You’re a Fay!” he cried, pointing at her. She’d sighed and turned to leave, so he’d followed her, talking her ear off until she begged him to shut it. “Only if you meet me again!” had been his reply.

And he’d stuck to her until she’d ended up liking him enough to call him a friend.

Over the years, he’d come to understand her. Understand why she was sad and angry. Her power, her essence, was born of the immortal world, a world that had been practically destroyed, reduced to nothing. She cared for and protected all of its creatures - it was her main, if not only, purpose in life.

Above all, Mal admired dragons. “They’re rare now,” she’d told him. “In this world, in any case. I saw one not long ago and he swore to me that there are other worlds in the cosmos where his kind are more prominent. They’ve got no home on Gaia.”

“You speak to dragons?” he’d laughed.

She’d lifted her hand and a great green fire came out of it. One wave and it disappeared.

“They’re shape shifters, you know. And they care to speak to those with fire in their blood.”

Rupert wondered how Marina knew that this was the biggest offense, the one thing Mal would never forget. Killing her kin.

The Fay’s hand reached out towards Marina and curses crossed her lips.

Rupert did nothing to stop it.

When the curse hit the red pendant at Marina’s throat, some of it bounced and fell on him and - to Mal’s despair - on Aurora.

The rest was history.





Chapter 16





Commander