The Fae King's Ruin

The Princess and the Proposition

As soon as Aislin was past the set of doors guarded by a glass-stained image of a fiery angel, she took a deep, soul-filling breath and closed her eyes.

The first step into the garden of what looked like midnight star blossoms sparked her long-slumbering senses back into wakefulness. The crescent-shaped space the King escorted her to brought Aislin face-to-face with what must be the edge of the perimeter of the city’s protection. She remembered Aelthrys telling her once that the patina’s edge was marked by a thick forest and, to a certain extent, the sea that the mighty Seelie fleet called home.

Waving the thought from her mind, she focused instead on the frigid, electrifying air that her exquisite dress could not shield her from. But she welcomed the cold, the smell of grass, of the bittersweet scent of the flowers that only opened up in the dead of night, recognizing all of it for what it was.

“I should thank you for this freedom,” she murmured, not caring if the admission was exactly the kind of thing her cousin would advise against. Aelthrys was a creature that kept all his cards close to his chest; Aislin believed in showing vulnerability from time to time to throw potential enemies off her scent. “And, I suppose, for inadvertently telling me you house some of this world’s rarest night-blooming flowers.”

That pulled a surprised laugh from the young king. She ignored how his deep chuckle brought her a drop of satisfaction, forgetting it wholly.

“You really shouldn’t,” he replied, and she thought a golden tinge made its way to the apples of his cheeks. But it was gone in a blink before she could examine closely. “But the moon tonight is lovely enough that I might accept your thanks for only a fraction.”

She lifted her eyes to the vast expanse of stars and inky black. “A waxing crescent,” Aislin said.

“The beginning of an end,” King Avery agreed, standing just a few feet away from her with his hands tucked behind him like the well-mannered noble he was. “And then, in the next couple of days, the Goddess of the Moon will once again offer a fresh start.”

Aislin raised a brow, the only sign of her intrigue. “You worship the Moon Goddess. The Unseelie… Well, my ancestors preferred the Sun God.” She smiled, remembering stories of her aunt and how people of her court used to celebrate in honor of the fiery deity. “Solaria was a festival like no other, I was told. Of course, I was too young to remember myself.”

To her gratitude, the king didn’t make fun of her sentimentality. His golden eyes glittered like suns of their own as his lips turned upward. The mischievous look suited him, though she had little doubt anything rarely did.

“My people bask in Lunaria, the Moon Festival,” he said with excitement. “What are the odds that we honor two opposite, but not quite different, gods?”

“I imagine that since we’re two halves of the same race, then quite high,” Aislin cut drily, before sighing. “I get what you mean, however. Sometimes, I find myself amazed by the littlest things.”

“Like?”

She glanced at him, saw the curiosity he’d been trying to hide all evening, and felt wariness creep back into her nerves. His question was innocent enough but she wasn’t sure just how much she should let him in. Their alliance was only beginning, surely no one expected her to cozy up to anyone in a snap of their fingers.

Would it hurt, though? A small part of Aislin whispered to her. The only reason King Avery would tender any amount of interest in her was because he barely knew her and yet he’d given her the same benefit of the doubt one would afford an acquaintance or, better yet, a perfect stranger.

After all, it wasn’t like he was asking her to divulge all her deepest, darkest wishes.

“The food,” she said, blushing a little and turning away pretending to look at a nearby budding flower so he wouldn’t see. “My maids served me a pastry that I haven’t had since I was six years old the other day. The ingredients do not grow in Mhoryga and so we had to do without it when we left this realm.”

Even if she couldn’t see him, Aislin knew he had a smile playing on his lips when he answered. “Hmm, I think I need to taste this pastry for myself,” he murmured. “It’s interesting that even in food, we have overlaps in our cultures when all this time, our ancestors keep claiming that we are absolutely different from each other.”

“A bloody history can do that to two people.”

The King turned to her, his blond hair falling to his dark brows and gleaming under the moonlight in a way that made it seem like his coloring was close to her own. Aislin was hit with the thought of how carelessly she had been speaking with someone who had more power than she did. Fear was a hot slice of pain in her consciousness that immediately had her muscles locking into place.

His eyes bore into hers and for once, she could feel no pretense in the air between them. She wondered if this is what it felt like to be under the full scrutiny of someone who could easily decide her life with just one spoken word. Avery watched her and she could feel his eyes brush over her face with a calculating gaze that was, interestingly enough, not at all cold like she had expected.

Like so many other males in power used to look at her.

“I’ve told you before; I cannot fix the past,” he said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “The only thing I can do is make things better for the future of my people, and now for yours.”

Wind as cold as the night whipped past Aislin as she swallowed and wet her dry, paper lips. “Why did you ask me to come out here, Avery?” she asked, voice cracking slightly as she said his name.

He gave her one long look, then began walking deeper into the garden, farther away from the guards behind them. She followed without a word, each one of her steps surprising her when they did not falter. But as strong as she looked on the outside, her insides were squirming worse than she had ever experienced before. She pressed her hands on her stomach, clutching the smooth material of her dress until she felt the bones of her corset digging into her ribs painfully.

Aislin breathed in small puffs of air then blew them out in one long exhale through her mouth, repeating it three more times until she felt her stomach ease a bit. She came up beside Avery, who had stopped just in front of an entire lattice wall of pink night blooms, and waited quietly until he spoke.

“The Great Council won’t be able to resolve anything in this lifetime if we continue at the rate we are going, Princess Aislin,” he said, using her title. “The longer the Treaty remains as a mere plan, the longer the unrest and uncertainty will linger. Things will get worse. Surely you don’t expect your court to remain as cooperative as they are now? I don’t expect that even from my own people.”

“What? My—?” She shook her head, her mind spinning. “I do not follow.”

Golden eyes clouded with confusion. “Surely you get reports from your advisers on public sentiment?”

She tried not to take that as an insult. “Of course I do. Aelthrys keeps me abreast of such things, right down to the very core of court machinations.” Her hands smoothed out the front of her dress. “You will find I miss very little about the goings-on in my own court.”

Avery nodded, seemingly satisfied. “As rulers of both courts, do you not think that we should take over and push things according to what is both important to our people?”

She frowned. “But is that not why we are discussing the internal ruling system?” It had been a long, tiresome debate within the Great Council, and she could hardly believe he was willingly discussing it with her outside of the Silver Hall.

“Yes, but what are the chances we actually get it established this month? This year?” Avery sighed, raising his hands to his face as if he was going to scrub at it, but let it fall back down to his side at the last second when he seemed to remember himself. “If we head the Council now, as a mutual decision between us both, then we would get things moving a lot faster. No one would argue about the both of us heading it since we would mean equal representation of the Seelie and Unseelie Courts.”

“Equal representation is not the problem,” she argued gently. The last thing she needed right now was to make him feel like she was lecturing him. She knew male egos couldn’t handle that from someone younger, let alone female. “If I agree now, we would be making a decision without the Great Council. Do you think that the other members would take kindly to that?” Then she paused. “Actually, since the Council is made up of far more Seelie fae, they would no doubt be fine with you heading the whole thing. But have you not considered how they would perceive my participation?”

Aislin turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself and fully intended to walk back to the castle and away from the entire ridiculous conversation they were having. Avery did not understand what kind of position he would be putting her in. It would threaten the cooperative, strong persona she had built for herself in the Council that she had to say no to whatever he was suggesting. But a strong hand clamped on her shoulder and gently pulled her to a stop.

Electricity crackled in the air between them. Aislin did her best to ignore it and pass it off as a figment of her imagination.

“Whatever change I can bring to the Great Council by being at the head of it, you can too,” Avery said to her softly. “Yes, I know some people might not take too kindly about your participation. In fact, I know you expect that of other people all the time. But I need your help, Aislin, perhaps… Perhaps just as much as you need mine.”

She remained with her back to him, not wanting to let him see whatever defeat he might find in her eyes that tasted as bitter as it felt. Because they both knew the truth, that she did need him if she wanted to get anywhere with the Council, or the new world they were building.

Aislin needed him if she wanted her people to be part of that new world.

Unafraid.

Free.

And presently, she wasn't getting anywhere. What Avery was suggesting to do was a ticket in. A pass to see the change Aislin so desperately wanted.

She clenched her jaw, letting go of her prideful feelings like a closed fist stretching its fingers one by one before straightening her spine and turning slowly to face him. Avery was staring down at her with all seriousness that accompanied an undeniable glimmer of hope. It made her stomach turn.

“As of the last time the great Council met, there is an unbalance between our numbers. If we are standing on the principle of equal representation, our delegates should reflect that as well,” she said, leaving no room for argument in her tone of voice. “And we have to agree to be fair at all times and hear each other out.”

Avery nodded readily. “Of course,” he said, eyes widening. “I’ll work on dismissing some of my delegates immediately.”

“Good.” Aislin swallowed, and said, “I also want a clarification from you about something.”

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What is it?”

“Are my cousin and I still your prisoners?”

“Excuse me?” he breathed, blinking back his shock.

Aislin clasped her hands together. “I know we’re allies now, and I know I must stay in your court for the time being while we are working on the treaty, but I would like to visit my home and my people. I need an official document or declaration from you to make things formal.” She lifted her gaze at him, letting him see the unbridled truth in her eyes. “Mhoryga is being held together by a string of nobles that I, frankly, do not trust. It has been too long, Avery.”

He rubbed his chin in thought. “I don’t get it. Have you been restricted in any way from going, well, anywhere?”

“No,” she ground out, knowing she sounded a bit ridiculous now, “but that’s because none of us want to step on any line. If you have not noticed, my cousin and I have been incredibly cautious since you never even gave us a rundown of what was allowed during our stay before and after we became your prisoners.”

Avery sighed. “Aislin, of course you and your cousin can go wherever you like. Although, yes, I need you to stay here for the majority of the time until we finalize the parameters of the Treaty.”

She blinked at him, staring for a long time and making sure he was not joking. Her heartbeat ran faster than a hummingbird's wings at the thought of finally being able to return home— of finally seeing Mhoryga and Cetha again. Oh, she couldn't even wait for Aelthrys to know! Aislin swallowed her sob, choking on it almost, as she tried to hide from Avery how ecstatic the news made her.

It did not matter anyway. Avery smiled at her widely like he knew exactly what she was feeling at the moment. That he was happy on her behalf.

Remembering her manners, she gathered her skirts and sank to a graceful curtsy. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she murmured. “This kindness shall never be forgotten."

He smiled at her lopsidedly. "Please do. Forget it, I mean. If I had been doing my job properly, we would not have had this conversation."

This time, when Aislin smiled, she realized that it might have been the first truly genuine smile she has ever made since coming here to Alfheim.

"Nonetheless," she said to him, "I am glad we had it. My people and I already owe you a lot for your leniency."

He shrugged, turning back to the palace. “Leniency or not, you owe me nothing. Especially for what I roped you into doing.” Then he grinned, teeth so splendidly white that she was stunned stupid for a second. “Maybe you might hate me for it! That will always be novel.”

She chuckled lightly. “Maybe. Maybe not. Emotions matter very little in the way we must view political matters, however.”

They made their way back to the palace, the halls so blessedly deserted in favor of what seemed to be a full-on party that was now going on in the Grand Hall. Aislin idly wondered how much of that development was the King’s Hand’s fault and if Aelthrys was somehow roped into it.

The thought of her cousin gritting his teeth and smiling at the merry Faes amused her so much that it seemed to be a great way to have gotten back at him after his stunt earlier. She was so distracted by it that she did not even realize Avery had escorted her to her door and that they were both standing in front of it.

“Oh,” she murmured, blushing a bit. “I might have spaced out there. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said graciously, glancing at the hall behind him. “That might have been one of the most peaceful walks I have had in my own home to this date. Thank you.”

Aislin curtsied. “No, thank you, Your Maj—” Avery narrowed his eyes at her and she chuckled. “—Avery. Good night.”

He bowed, and like he had done earlier that day, took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it gently. But unlike his abrupt exit, this time, the King lingered.

A flutter beat in her heart, one which the Crown Princess of the Unseelie Fae was stubbornly disinterested to inspect further even as the King remained bent over her hand with all the gentlemanly form of a knight. He peeked under his long, dark lashes, and yet Aislin was far too smart to look directly into his eyes and get sucked in by them.

She could not do that. She could not go there.

Taking a step back, she muttered a quick ‘good night’ again to Avery and bolted for her door, then closed it with a soft click that closed all her doors—metaphorically speaking—probably forever.