I’m at a loss for words. The ambassador must be mistaken. The fae may be adamant that they can’t lie, but I’m sure it has more to do with cultural custom than physical ability. Besides, even if he were incapable of lying, it wouldn’t mean he’s telling the truth. He must not know the truth. Because the Hank Osterman I know would never hunt unicorns or kill fae. Would he?
“The lesson is, don’t set traps and you’ll be fine,” the ambassador says.
“A simple matter then.”
“Exactly!” he says with an approving nod.
I frown. Another stretch of silence falls over the carriage until a new question comes to mind. “Which are you? Seelie or unseelie?”
“Obviously, I’m seelie. I’m dressed in regal clothes and riding in a carriage, aren’t I?”
“Is that all the difference amounts to?”
“Do you know nothing of Faerwyvae? Are you not taught our ways growing up, like we are taught about yours?”
We are, but I don’t say so out loud. For the things we are taught about the fae are hardly flattering.
He huffs. “I’m an ambassador, not a nursery maid. Regardless, I’ll educate you. All fae once were unseelie, which you so callously deem lesser fae. Back when the isle was ours alone and no human had set foot here, we were different. We were…creatures, you might say. Spirits. Animals. We were so alive back then.” His voice sounds wistful. “Or so I’m told, at least. I’m hardly old enough to have been born that long ago. In any case, we didn’t start to change until your kind came to the isle.”
I find myself leaning forward, genuinely curious to hear what he has to say. I’ve been told about the war between the humans and fae, the repercussions, the treaty, but never anything about what the Fair Isle was like before.
He continues. “We were curious about these newcomers, and they were equally curious about us. There were mishaps and misunderstandings, of course, but for the most part, we were friendly with the humans. Then the humans started leaving us gifts, sharing their food. You taught us words, made us clothes. That’s when we began to change.”
“How did you change?”
“We began to feel like you, look like you, hurt like you. It was a curse. And a blessing. We experienced things we never had before. Love. Hate. Rage. Passion. Sorrow. Some of us welcomed these changes, exploring the vast array of new experiences. The others retreated from human settlements, vowing never to eat human food or wear human clothes again. That was the beginning of the divide between seelie and unseelie. The unseelie considered seelie fae unnatural, an abomination of what we were meant to be. They wanted the isle back, for the humans to be eradicated. The seelie, meanwhile, weren’t willing to give their new identities away and wanted to protect their friends, the humans. And…well, you know the rest.”
I’m not sure I do, but I can’t find the words to admit it.
“Which one is my husband?” Amelie’s voice startles me. It’s the first time she’s spoken since we left home. “Seelie or Unseelie?”
“Well, at present both King Aspen and Prince Cobalt are politically seelie,” the ambassador says. “However, King Aspen tends to shift unseelie from time to time, both physically and politically. He has a temper, you know.”
Amelie blanches, her hand clutching her rowan berries. “Which am I to marry?”
“That depends. Marriages from previous Reapings were made according to age. By the way, not all got to marry kings and princes, you know. You’re lucky. The last Reaping from a hundred years ago paired the girls with minor cousins of the Summer Court Queen. Now, which of you is Evelyn Fairfield?”
“I am.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Evelyn Fairfield,” he says with a bow of his dark head. “My name is Foxglove. Forgive me for not introducing myself until now. I wanted to make sure the two of you had a good and proper sulk. Young human females seem fond of doing such. I take it you are the eldest?”
Amelie springs forward in her seat, an appalled look on her face. “Evie? Eldest! That’s absurd.”
I pat her knee and say to Foxglove, “Amelie is eldest.”
Amelie leans back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “Why would you assume me to be the younger?”
Foxglove scratches the side of his head, then adjusts his spectacles. “I’m not sure. I do suppose you are taller, now that you are sitting upright and no longer have the tears of a small child in your eyes.”
Amelie’s mouth falls open. “Tears of a child? How rude! And another thing. Never mind how tall I am. Even if I wasn’t taller, I’d still be older. Height is hardly an indication.”
I suppress a grin. It’s nice to see Amelie acting like herself again.
“I was certain height was an indication of human age, but I was obviously mistaken,” Foxglove says.
“Does your kind keep growing forever, then?” I ask, imagining monstrous, mountainous fae strolling through the trees, heads above the treetops.
“Only for several hundred years. King Aspen has reached his full height by now, I’m sure, being the thousand years that he is.”
Amelie lets out a gasp. “A thousand years? He’s positively ancient!”
Foxglove nods. “He was born nearly the day the war ended. The tide turned upon his birth, and I say that with some irony, as his mother is Queen of the Sea Court. She was unseelie through and through, as was her husband, King Herne of the Autumn Court. King Herne died during the war, however, leaving Melusine as regent. Somehow, against all odds, King Aspen was born in seelie form, taking his deceased father’s place as heir to the Autumn Court. This, in turn, changed his mother’s heart and brought the majority vote to side with the seelie. The Council of Eleven Courts forged peace with the humans through the treaty.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” Amelie says with a pout. “Who are we each to marry?”
“As the eldest, you will marry King Aspen while Evelyn will marry his younger brother, Prince Cobalt.”
Amelie’s eyes go wide. “I have to marry the Stag King?”
“You do!” Foxglove says. “You’re so lucky. The Stag King is quite yummy to look at. Plus, he has a huge…kingdom, as rumor would have it.” He waggles his brows, his grin wide enough to show his slightly pointed teeth.
Fangs. I knew it—wait. Did he just make an innuendo? “Huge kingdom?”
He winks. “So I’ve heard. Prince Cobalt, on the other hand, has remained much more of a mystery. If he’s taken many lovers, neither he nor they brag about it. Quite a shame. You’ll have to let me know about his…kingdom yourself.”
A blush of heat rises to my cheeks. I most certainly will not be reporting anything about Prince Cobalt’s kingdom, for I plan on never laying eyes on it. I give a subtle pat to my dagger, taking comfort that it remains a presence at my side, then avert my gaze to the window, watching golden leaves fall.
Chapter Eight
The journey through Autumn isn’t easy, neither on my body nor my mind. Every muscle aches, both from sitting so long and from tensing due to nerves. Amelie and I were allowed two short breaks during our travels, and these were only to relieve our humanly urges, something I never care to relive again. Nothing could be more frightening than trying to squat behind a tree in the forest of the fae. I could swear every leaf, vine, and branch had eyes, watching me, mocking me. My only hope now is that our new home has a proper toilet.