A Thief of Nightshade(66)
wings. Though the term “lesser” had been forbidden for centuries in Oberon’s court, it still slipped easily off the tongues of those who were out of the King’s earshot.
In all truth, he thought the requirement a brilliant move considering that no other Fae could fly and what better army than one with an advantage?
And it was that very oath—to protect Oberon at all costs—and the intensity of his feelings for Given that brought him now to Saralia’s doorstep. He was risking his life, but he knew it would pay off in the end.
The two Sidhe at the gate ushered him in without question and it wasn’t long before he’d passed through the center courts and stood before the Queen’s icy keep.
“You must be Ian. Come, she is expecting your arrival.” The Fae to the right of the door held out her hand as was custom for a female Sidhe. And as all “lessers” were expected to do, Ian bent his head reverently to kiss it.
She walked through the grand entryway and stopped outside of her Majesty’s library. The doors were open, revealing a small study lined with books of all shapes and sizes.
“Don’t stand there gawking in my doorway.” Saralia’s chastisement brought a grin to the Sidhe’s face, who winked at Ian before leaving him alone with the queen.
“Are you wondering why I don’t have personal guards, Griffin?” Saralia was looking down at a fragile book in her hands; the plain cover was frayed and the spine chipped.
Ian was somewhat afraid to answer her, but upon the turn of her head at his hesitation, he figured ignoring her would be a far worse mistake. “I suppose so, your Majesty, but only because his Majesty Oberon has...”
She snapped the book shut and tossed it carelessly onto the chaise lounge behind her. “Yes, I know which ‘his’ Majesty you are referring to. You needn’t say his name.” Her expression and voice softened then. “I don’t have guards, Ian, because I haven’t any need for them. We are immortal, after all, my brother and I. He just likes bossing people around. It isn’t like that here. Those loyal to this court are catered to with all the pleasures and rights that being a Fae affords them. Now,” she sauntered closer, holding her hand out to him, but instead of merely bowing his head, he kneeled on one knee and kissed the top of her hand with all the concentration of a last breath, “Tell me why you have come to my court. Morrigan tells me that you have quite urgent things to discuss with me concerning this human girl.”
Ian rose to his feet. “Cedrick has her trapped in a soul portal—”
Again, before he could finish, Saralia interrupted. “Who do you think put her there? You aren’t telling me anything new.
Besides, no one has ever come out of one on their own.”
He took a deep breath, the weight of what he was about to risk nearly too much to bear. If Ian failed to gain her Majesty’s favor now, his next sentence would be considered treason. “Cedrick released her and while she is still in a portal at this moment ... his Majesty will go in after her, if he hasn’t already.”
If there had been any color to drain from Saralia’s face, it would have. “My brother knows how much patience I have already exercised with him, considering who he shelters in his house.”
“I came to you because I can help,”
Ian blurted out. When Saralia didn’t respond, he carefully continued. “I have faith that his Majesty won’t fail in his efforts—he has an Oran. I can deliver both the girl and the Oran to you personally.”
Saralia smoothed the hem of her sleeve, which looked mildly worn from perhaps
that
action
performed
consistently. “I am well aware that she has an Oran. And if she still has the glamour potion and manages to get pulled from the soul portal, then she’ll walk right into my court on her own. What do I need you for?”
“It isn’t just any Oran, it’s the Dragonfly Oran. And I can’t say that Oberon isn’t willing to wage war if that’s what it takes to protect this girl. But, if I agree to go with her for her protection, he may hold back. He trusts me. I can get the girl to give the Oran to me for safekeeping, in case she gets caught. She could think to destroy it before you could get it from her if I don’t.”
“What’s in it for you?” Saralia asked icily.
“I want nothing more than your word on Given’s safety and peace maintained between the courts.”
Saralia laughed, “Is that all? Perhaps I should just give you my throne while I’m at it?”
Ian stood firm, the gravity in his countenance unwavering.
Saralia feigned reluctance. “Very well, then. Our agreement will be forfeit if my brother sends one single Fae along with you.”
Ian bowed his head. “Understood,
your Majesty. I will not fail you.” He bowed again and turned to leave. He was almost to the threshold when she spoke again.
“Why do you care what happens to Given?” Saralia asked.
Ian looked back to see vulnerability in the queen’s eyes. “Because I love her.”
The world had completely folded in on itself. Aubrey labored to open her eyes.
When she did, she saw utter darkness.
Distantly, she heard a voice calling her name, someone telling her to follow the sound, but all she wanted to do was close her eyes again and sleep, forget everything—forget the pain. She could no longer remember the cause of the excruciating loss, for nothing remained of it but emptiness and sorrow.