Page 16

Familial Faults

M aewyn woke wrapped in so much comfort she considered never moving again, but all it took was one rumbling taunt in her ear to ruin everything.

“Not quite skilled enough to manifest clothes after a transformation, are you, Pumpkin? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, that would be a first,” Maewyn responded and rolled herself right off the bed. She might have been naked, but at least she was skilled enough to take a linen with her and wrap up all that nudity.

The prince could only click his tongue and moan about being left cold.

There were many other things she wanted to say, but just the very sight of Roan reclining in bed and begging her to return to it made her pulse race between her thighs, and that made her shut herself up in the bathing chamber until it was time to leave Ulric’s manor.

The fae prince took the hint, but he was all knowing smiles and waggling brows on the ride back. “Tell me how it felt,” he prodded.

She flushed and tried to cover her face. “Don’t you already know?”

“I know what it is to be a raven, not a fox.”

Maewyn popped her head up from behind her hands and glared at him in the quiet of the carriage.

“Oh, that.” When she realized he wasn’t asking her to describe how pleased she was to snuggle up against him or how excited she’d been to feel his fingers grazing her bare skin, she finally gave in, and the rest of the ride was filled with excitable comparisons and theories on transformative magic.

But then they returned to the Autumn Court, and something in the air changed. Roan sat up when the carriage entered the gates, he grimaced, and then announced, “Fuck, she’s here.”

There was no time to ask “who” as the prince hopped out, Maewyn following much more reasonably after the carriage stopped.

Jynquil was prancing about the halls but wasn’t the apparent she .

Roan only gave the spring princess a cursory nod when Maewyn caught up to him, then ordered Aunyx off to prepare his steed with an uncharacteristic vitriol.

“What is the matter with you?” Maewyn asked under her breath, flashing a smile at the horde of courtiers who had arrived while they were gone.

The palace was flooded with fae from every court if their attire told her anything, entire families intending to celebrate the wedding that wasn’t meant to be.

“I sense a disturbance,” he muttered back, slipping an arm around her waist and guiding her through the throng.

There were elder fae and children too, even very young ones being worn on the backs of others, but Roan merely nodded at them all until he reached the grand chamber that served as a dining hall that first night.

Maewyn glanced up at him when he stopped, reading the pained expression that passed over his face and then followed where his gaze fell.

“Mother!” he called. “You’ve arrived. Splendid.” There was… affection in his tone, surely, but it was like the words had to slice a hole through his neck to escape.

The fae woman was easy to spot amongst the rest, a fall of golden hair so stunning it was more precious than the actual metal.

There was age on her face, but only just, and she went to Roan with open arms, pulling him into an embrace that he returned.

They traded affectionate pleasantries, and then she turned to Maewyn.

“Oh, your mate .” Maewyn was pulled into a delicate but sincere embrace. “I do hope our realm has offered you every kindness and you’ve been given all the comforts to make this place your home.”

The words sank into Maewyn—kindness, comfort, home—and she could only smile back and confirm that yes, she loved Tenhaef, and it came so easily she wondered if it might have just been the truth even on the tail of being nearly torn to shreds.

Roan’s mother stepped back to stand beside a male fae. They were both dressed in the green and blue pastels of the Spring Court, and Roan’s mother slipped her hand into the man’s, pressing to his side. “My son has been on his very best behavior, I expect, yes?”

The look Roan gave Maewyn utterly implored her to lie.

“Of course,” she breathed, clasping her hands. “Your son is a perfect gentleman.”

When Roan’s arm slipped around her again, she didn’t seize up, but her pulse began running sprints. When had his touch turned so friendly? So soft? Why couldn’t he just dig his fingers in and yank her toward him and—well, no, even that sounded tantalizing!

After Maewyn smiled stupidly through a bit more friendliness, Roan excused the two of them and brought her to the quiet of the library, face painted with a deep scowl.

“By Cerewin’s Horn, what in the realm was all that about?” She rubbed at her cheeks after he shut them in alone.

“All what? I was terribly polite.” Roan threw himself into a branchy chair, arms crossed, a pout as clear as the sunshine that followed around the members of the Spring Court blighting his face.

“I supposed you were, but…” Maewyn rolled her hands over each other, unsure how to explain that in only ten short days, she had somehow come to know him well enough that none of this behavior felt normal at all. “Your mother. You…hate her?”

“Hate? No, I love her! She’s my mother .”

Frankly, Maewyn was relieved the woman was alive at all. “Then why are you so upset to see her?”

“I’m not. Well, maybe a little. It’s just…” Roan chewed on his lip and sat forward, finally sputtering, “She’s just so happy .”

Maewyn spread her fingers, waiting, but that seemed to be the only explanation forthcoming.

She huffed a sigh and paced over to stand just before him.

“Well, I thought she’d been beheaded by your father or something equally heinous, so happy seems a fair bit better than headless—especially if you love her. ”

Roan’s green eyes lazily slid upward, utter misery on his face. “It was my father who should have been beheaded,” he groused. “But she just chose to be severed from him and left us instead.” Roan threw himself back again, scrubbing a hand over his smooth jaw.

Maewyn touched her chest, a tug there that hurt in a way she’d not experienced before. “I hadn’t thought they could be severed, but that’s a more reasonable explanation for why there’s no queen.”

“There would be if it weren’t for him,” Roan spat. “My father, he used to be…different. He was carefree, wild, indulgent—”

“Like someone else I know.”

His nose crinkled. “Who?”

Maewyn waited, but it would never dawn on him, not in this place where the sun rarely slipped out from behind the clouds. “Never mind. You were saying?”

Roan twiddled his thumbs, scowling down at his lap.

“He never respected their bond. I’m sure he truly loved her once—considering how awful he’s been since she left, there is no other explanation—but while they were wed, he slept with whomever he wanted.

My mother never acted as though she cared until the morning they found my father’s latest conquest dead in the bailey, blood seeping into every one of those cracks in the white stones.

There’s still a stain if you catch it in the right light. ”

Maewyn swallowed hard. “Did he—”

“No, it was her own doing. She used a blade enchanted so that only she could wield it, and she was not subtle in letting others know her plans. She was simply in deep grief over betraying her own husband and knowing she would never truly be with my father. It just broke my mother.”

And that poor fae woman , Maewyn thought.

“I suppose it broke everyone,” he admitted with a helpless huff.

“But when my father’s lechery shifted from embarrassing to lethal, my mother chose to no longer ignore it.

The two were severed, and she settled in the Spring Court where she learned to paint and sing.

And, I mean, good for her, I suppose, but then she met Gregor.

” This he said with the ire of a child spitting out peas.

“You know, that fae with her? That’s Jyny’s second cousin once removed or something ridiculous, but apparently he’s funny and kind and even Jyny likes him, so, you know, whatever .

The point is, since she left, my mother has made it her purpose in life to show my father how happy she is without him. ”

And without me , Maewyn heard Roan say despite the words never leaving his mouth because she too knew what it was to feel unwanted. “I’m sorry this is difficult,” she said, easing herself onto her knees and placing a hand over the back of his.

Roan opened his mouth then closed it again as he peered down at her. His features were frozen somewhere between alarm and confusion until he swallowed. “Are you…being earnest right now?”

Maewyn nodded.

His head cocked just like a bird’s with deep misunderstanding. “But surely you mean to say that you are sorry this is difficult because I am so ill-equipped to handle the actual difficulties of life.”

She shook her head.

“Because I have very little to grouse over, you know.”

Maewyn shrugged, placing her other hand on his knee.

“And my ache is but a single leaf fallen from the mightiest oak of heartbreak. It matters not .” He pushed himself forward so that his face was quite close to hers.

“It matters to me,” she said, and though it was nearly silent, she knew he could feel her breath on his lips.

The library door groaned on its hinges. It was a wonder that anything in the fae realm would require lubrication, and yet the sound was so loud it made both jerk away from each other as they hissed matching curses.

Aunyx stood on the threshold, hands behind his back, stoic face painted with the briefest discomposure. “Your Highness, your steed is ready.”

Roan stood awkwardly, and Maewyn got to her feet with equal floundering. The prince announced he would return that evening, a murmured apology for not assisting with research for the day.

When the door closed behind him, both Aunyx and Maewyn stared at it for a long moment.

“Would it be acceptable if I remained here?” the shadow fae asked.