The Fae King's Ruin

The Princess, The King, and Locke Village

When she woke up from her sleep potion-induced nap, Aislin felt a whole lot better. She felt well-rested, her headache was gone, her mood was better, and despite being drugged, embarrassment flooded her when she remembered what that she had asked Avery to stay with her until she fell asleep.

It was mortifying and weak. There was no way she could save face from that. Aislin kept groaning internally as she bathed and dressed for her very late start in the day, only having the willpower to stop thinking about it when the tall, avuncular fae that was the Director of the King’s Household appeared after she’d summoned him. 

Despite what she felt, however, Aislin made a mental note to thank the King for what he did for her this morning. She wouldn’t have known who to ask for such a thing in this palace and she desperately needed the sleep to be able to deal with what would happen today.

Because she could not possibly meet with the Queen of All Magic sleep-deprived and cranky.

With Spicer and her three maids, Aislin took stock of each of the rooms offered by Avery for her to move into. As promised, they each had their own fireplaces and were sized more than generously. Honestly, the rooms shown to her were bigger than any normal suite she’d had back home in Cetha. 

The rooms all had artfully painted high ceilings that reminded Aislin of that one time she’d stepped foot in a mortal cathedral. She lingered at the one that had a balcony much like the one Avery had in the King’s suite beyond the gold-gilded, floor-to-ceiling window wide enough for three people to pass through. This high up, it gave her a view of the docks and the Seelie Kingdom’s impressive armada. For some reason, the scenery playing out beyond her gave Aislin pause.

“Miss?” she heard Periwinkle say behind her.

“This one.” Aislin turned to Spicer, smiling. “I would like to move to this room, please.”

Spicer nodded, his pen scratching over the surface of his notepad. “Very good, Your Highness. We shall have it ready for you by tonight.”

She didn’t watch as he turned and left, leaving her alone with her maids as she listened to the sounds of a horn sounding in the distance. Periwinkle stepped up beside her, hands fiddling with her apron. 

“Would you like us to redecorate the room to your liking, Princess?”

“That would be lovely,” Aislin said, smiling at her. “You girls surprise me. What time is it?”

Ola held out her watch. “Ten minutes until you’re supposed to meet with the King. Would you like to change into something else?”

Aislin glanced down at her dress, a long gown the color of dusky blue. The neckline was a little low but the sleeves that cut off to her wrists gave her the warmth she needed. It was a beautiful gown and the girls out always showcased their talents in whatever they gave her, so she shook her head, honestly not seeing the need to change into something else.

They led her back to her room where Avery was already standing outside her door, leaning against the wall and speaking casually to her two guards.

“Your Majesty,” Aislin gasped lightly, curtsying with her maids. “I apologize for having you wait.”

Avery grinned at her, gold eyes lit up as he walked over. “Nonsense, I was early. Hello, Periwinkle. Ola. Willow.”

The girls blushed in unison. Periwinkle, who’d managed to find her voice, whispered, “Good evening, Your Majesty.”

Gold eyes shifted back to Aislin. “You picked your rooms yet?”

She nodded. “I chose the one overlooking the docks. I feel quite at ease there.”

“That’s excellent!” His head tilted to the side. “And you are well?”

Despite the furious blush staining her cheeks, she nodded. “Thank you, by the way.” She cleared her throat. “I appreciate everything.”

Avery studied her for one long second, before a knowing look entered his eyes. He held out an arm. “I’m just glad you’re okay now. Shall we go then?”

Aislin nodded, but turned to Periwinkle before she took his arm. “If General Aelthrys comes looking for me, please tell him that I’ve gone to the meeting and I’ll see him later for dinner.”

Periwinkle curtsied. “Of course, Princess.”

It was only through some miracle that Aislin’s hand did not shake when she took Avery’s proffered arm. She tried not to think about their audience and the wide-eyed looks they exchanged behind their backs, or the plenty of others that would see them together touching like this in public.

Her blush deepened. Wrong words. Very wrong, indeed.

“What are you thinking about?” Avery asked, politely curious.

Just when she thought that she couldn’t blush a shade darker, she did. Avery raised an amused brow at it. “See, that makes me more adamant to know,” he said lightly, a teasing quality in his tone. “Come on, what is it?”

She bit her lip, scrambling for something to say, before drawing up blank. Aislin decided to go with the truth instead.

“This might be the first time your court will see us arm in arm like this,” she murmured, focusing on each step as they went down the stairs. “It might cause quite a stir.”

She watched a corner of his mouth quirk up. “Any more than the announcement on the paper did? Up until now I’m still dealing with several congratulation letters everyday.”

Aislin chuckled. “Aelthrys sorts through mine,” she shared. “He only gives me the ones he thinks are important.”

“And that includes…?”

“My subjects who do not have a title fixed to their names,” Aislin said with a smirk. “He says they’re more genuine, and he is right.”

Avery smiled. “That’s true. More often than not, I prefer speaking to the villagers rather than my advisers.”

He led her through the palace’s front doors, the afternoon sun warming Aislin as she walked with him to the bridge. In front of them, the Lake of Memories shimmered. Overall, it was a good day, a far cry from last night’s terrible rain.

“What controls the weather inside a patina?” Aislin asked, looking up at the wispy clouds above them. “Are the lands connected to you somehow?”

He shook his head, his short curls bouncing against his forehead. “The patina is a complex bit of magic. It’s designed to protect its inhabitants as well as take care of them. When it comes to the weather, the patina decides according to the population's general needs.”

“So, last night, Alfheim basically needed the rain?” she asked dubiously.

Avery smirked at her. “It can be confusing, I know. But as long as the patina holds and does its job, I don’t complain.”

Aislin frowned, toeing a small rock out of their way. “I wasn’t complaining. I just wanted to understand it, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said, patting her hand gently. 

They stopped just before they got to the pale stones of the bridge, the village just on the other side. Avery held out a hand and started coaxing a portal out of thin air. She watched him mold it so they would fit side by side but her attention was instantly grabbed by the busy village on the other side of the portal.

Aislin’s eyes flicked back towards the village up ahead of them, the one not through the portal, and realized Avery was taking her to a different magical community altogether.

He helped her step through, cold air brushing against her skin as she did. As soon as Aislin was on the other side, she felt it.

It was old, powerful magic. Perhaps as old as the trees that surrounded the village. She suspected that there were at least a hundred other wards keeping the place secure, not just a patina, and that this was not a Fae village at all.

These were witches and wizards, with armed soldiers of just about every race stationed every yard or so around the perimeter. To her left was a large square, a well sitting dead in the middle of it. Around the square there were small cottages and huts, extending farther back to her right. 

Up ahead was a two-storey building, modest but functional, and there were extra guards stationed around it.

Aislin swallowed hard amidst her dry mouth. This was it. This was where they held their Council meetings.

A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman called the King’s name, a bright smile lighting up her face in a way that made Aislin tense up. She wore a thick, knitted cardigan the color of autumn leaves, her pants loose and soft.

Then Aislin noticed her round stomach, bulging out of her middle. Pregnant.

Avery grinned back at her holding out his free arm for an embrace that the woman gladly took. This close, she smelled like cinnamon and tarty apples, the scent unwillingly settling her.

“I haven’t seen you for a while!” Avery exclaimed, obviously good friends with her. “You’ve gotten even more pregnant than the last time we saw each other.”

She rolled those big blue eyes at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have only been away for two weeks, to get some planning done for the wedding.”

Avery’s gold eyes flicked up to the building ahead. “He’ll be attending, then?” 

The blonde nodded, before her gaze fell upon Aislin and her hand stopped rubbing her stomach. “Your Majesty?” she murmured to Avery.

He grinned. “Princess Aislin, let me introduce to you Safiya Locke. General Wysterra’s mate and soon-to-be wife. Safiya, this is the Princess Aislin of the Unseelie Fae. My fiancée.”

Aislin blinked. Mate. Of the Queen’s cousin. A relieved smile took over her completely, let alone the no small amount of pride at Avery’s introduction of her. 

“Lovely to meet you,” she said, nodding politely. “Congratulations on your baby.”

Safiya curtsied, a genuine smile directed at Aislin. “Lovely to meet you too, Your Royal Highness. Thank you. Oh, and congratulations on your new position on the Council.”

As Aislin murmured her thanks, she thought about whether Safiya, being the General’s mate, meant it. She’d only met him one time, but even if they just hadn’t been through a war, Aislin had a feeling that the fearsome general would never have welcomed her as his mate did to the table, let alone the Council.

Avery took Aislin’s hand. “We’ll need to head in but I’ll see you later, Saf.”

“Of course! Of course!” 

Safiya bid them goodbye, before another witch swept her up into a conversation. Avery and Aislin walked to the building, her already thundering heart speeding up, until they hit the stairs. She tried to conquer her thoughts and her body’s reaction to the stress as she felt her magic begin to roil underneath her skin, her hands flitting back and forth between her iron manacles.

She was so intent on calming herself down that she barely noticed that they were stopped in front of a nondescript door. Avery looked at her, thick brows pulled together as his eyes roamed over her face.

“Everything will be fine,” he murmured to her, brushing back a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”

Aislin knew Avery would be there for her, that there was truth behind the words he spoke. She’d developed enough trust in him to know that she had at least one person in her corner through this entire ordeal, and at the end of the day, she would be coming back to Alfheim with him in one piece.

And so Aislin nodded and the door before them swung open.

She spotted the Queen immediately.

She was standing at the head of the table, talking to two tall men on either side of her that Aislin would have recognized from a mile away. Her shining black hair was pinned up, no crown atop her head, and was wearing a long-sleeved, crimson turtleneck that clung to her body, dark jeans, and boots with high heels. Not at all how Aislin thought Queens like her should dress, but still carrying with her unmistakable power.

To the Queen’s right stood the General, his eyes, similar to his cousin's, flashed a feral violet. A rugged scar ran down his face, lips mashed into one straight line, and would undoubtedly give Aelthrys a run for his money for being so intimidating.

But perhaps the one that unnerved her of all was the man that stood to the Queen’s left. He had an open expression, not at all like the General’s, but when those silver eyes settled on her, Aislin could not help but shudder. He had high cheekbones, an overall attractive face. It wasn’t one that you would immediately associate with her brother’s murder, but here he was, standing in front of Aislin, a small, welcoming smile pasted on his face.

Avery bowed, and Aislin followed with a curtsy, her movements stiff. She didn’t dare turn her eyes away from the Queen’s mate, her senses on high alert.

“Princess Aislin,” the Queen’s soft voice greeted her. “Welcome to the Council of Magic. Please, have a seat.”