These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(83)

“She was a priestess who’d tricked the gods, who’d died and come back to life,” Kane adds, “so naturally the Court of the Sun painted her as the doer of dark magic, as someone wicked, someone to be feared and avoided at all costs.”

“It worked, too,” Finn says. “Droves of fae left what’s now known as the Unseelie land. They declared their loyalties to the Court of the Sun. Perhaps Mab wouldn’t have had a kingdom to rule at all, but Deaglan was a cruel king, casting out anyone who didn’t have something to offer him, demanding tithes from the poor and building that shining quartz palace through the labor of slaves. All those Deaglan cast out of his court, Mab gave refuge; those he persecuted, she rescued.”

“That’s why she was so beloved,” I say. “She literally saved them.”

“Exactly,” Finn says. “And won over the hearts and loyalties of many others while doing so.

Some refused to claim loyalties and escaped to the far west—the territory now known as the Wild Fae Lands. Those who remained in Deaglan’s lands were the Seelie, a title they gave themselves to claim their pride at being part of the original court. They believed themselves better than those who were cast out, and because those in the east would never be ruled by those who shared the original royal blood, the golden fae called them Unseelie, seeing it as an insult and weaving tales of the wicked queen and vile deeds in the kingdom to the east.”

“But those in the east embraced the title,” Kane says. “Mab ruled the misfits, the dreamers, the rebellious, and those dedicated to truth and integrity. They didn’t want anything to do with King Deaglan and his lies, his manipulations. They were Un seelie. They were better than Seelie because their royal line would never be tainted by Deaglan’s traitor blood.”

Finn nods, and I can tell they know this story as well as they know each other’s faces. This is part of their history. Their heritage. “The Seelie said that the proof of our evil hearts lay in that we draw our power from the darkness,” Finn says, “but they don’t understand that those of us who love the night revel in it because of how clearly it allows us to find even the smallest points of light. Whereas they deny that darkness exists, even while the sun they worship throws shadows in every corner.”

“That’s why it’s so hard for the Unseelie to see Sebastian in the palace,” I say softly. “That’s why Misha says they may never accept him. Because he’s a descendant of Gloriana and Deaglan.”

Finn stares off into the trees and nods. “The rivalry between the courts began with their creation.

And though it changed over time, it never lessened. The Seelie were prejudiced against those to the east and against Queen Mab, believing she’d won the land through dark magic. They would weave tales of the wickedness of those in the east, giving the Unseelie queen and those who served her the reputation of being cruel and evil, even though there were many cruel and evil among the fae who remained in Queen Gloriana’s court.”

“And then they killed off Mab’s line,” I say, remembering the story Misha and Amira told me.

“They killed off every descendant of her bloodline to rob her of that great power the gods had bestowed on her and to destroy the shadow court.”

Finn swallows hard. “They did, but it didn’t bring the court down the way they planned. We’re stronger than they realize. Thanks to the Great Queen.”

“Or we were,” Kane mutters, “until King Oberon decided he’d seduce the Seelie princess to destroy their court from the inside.”

My head snaps up. “What? I thought he loved her.”

Kane barks out a laugh. “You think the king of the Court of the Moon just happened to fall in love with his greatest enemy’s daughter and impregnate her?”

“I . . .” I don’t know what I thought. “That’s the story.”

Finn hangs his head. “The Great Fae War had raged on for years,” he says. “Arya was part of my father’s plan to destroy the Seelie kingdom from the inside, but he didn’t count on her parents locking him in the human realm. And he didn’t count on his own brother trying to steal the throne.”

He never loved her. “Gods,” I mutter. “At least now I understand why she’s so angry.” And I hate it. I hate the similarities between me and Arya. We were both betrayed by males we thought loved us, both romantically manipulated for political gain. Both bitter and angry.

Finn’s watching me carefully, and I’m as grateful as ever that he can’t read my pathetic thoughts.

“Were the gods not angry for being tricked?” I ask, if only to get my mind off the differences between myself and the vile golden queen. “Did they hold it against Mab? Against her court?”

“Oh, yes,” Finn says, “and like in all things, the gods value balance. That’s why they created the fire gems and the bloodstones to represent her choices, if in lesser measure. The fire gems would amplify the magic of any fae, Seelie or Unseelie, and though their users would never be as powerful as Mab, they could do great and terrible things with the aid of those gems.”

“Are these the same fire gems that are used today? Like the one I wear?” I ask, pressing my hand to the gem between my breasts.

Finn nods.

“What about the bloodstones?”