Page 9

Boredom is A Playground For All

A fter three days of studying with constant interruptions, Maewyn was no longer so contrite.

Every morning, Roan bustled her off to the library, and she attempted to read until late evening when she played the prince’s mindless lover with the king over dinner—not terribly difficult when her thoughts were still with all those tales.

And then it was right to bed where she fell into an exhausted heap, mind swirling with questions.

So when the older fae and his ever-growing retinue of wedding helpers came to see Maewyn every hour, she was quicker to send them off with short and nondescript demands, easier than coming up with something impossible—she could simply be impossible by giving them nothing to work with.

“I’d like my shoes to embody the smell of rain,” she would say. Or, “I want the guests to be gifted with their earliest wish upon a star when they arrive.”

Maybe they could do it, maybe they couldn’t, but from the looks the fae gave her, it would certainly all take time . And she made sure to add countless minutes to each helper’s day by requesting they fetch her fresh cups of cider.

But by the fourth day, Maewyn grew restless. She’d complained to Roan, and he’d only encouraged her to branch out with her research. “I am doing my own important things,” he insisted, and so Maewyn shifted her inquiry to focus on archfae only to end up terrifying herself.

One had not existed in centuries, and the last had found himself in some battle with an umbrabrute, which was apparently some ancient monster born from the creation of the fae realm.

The two had both been destroyed, falling to equitable wounds from each of their terrible powers.

Had the archfae been weaker, it said, the umbrabrute would have devoured it and used their combined power to tear through the Limindhwer and wreak havoc in the human realm after consuming all it could in each of the fae realm’s corners.

Well, as long as Roan’s child remained without threat, perhaps things would be fine, and with the prince for a father…

She shook her head and moved on to research fae courting much to her own chagrin.

The tether between the two of them wasn’t terribly well understood, only that it was a thoroughly magical force, as old as the fae realm itself, referred to frequently as a mating or blood connection—and yes, that had been what she’d done, drawn his blood and connected them.

“How in the realm does a human form a tether with a fae?” she asked herself, but the tree was listening.

Motes floated down from the ceiling canopy to land on more books, but one burned brighter than the rest. Maewyn retrieved it and let the roots find the right page.

It was only a footnote in an epic tale about the dangers of fae entering the human realm and losing their powers, but the few words made Maewyn choke on her cider.

It is common knowledge that it is much less dangerous for a human to travel to the fae realm, for there is nothing for them to lose; however, we must remember the perhaps greater danger that when a human enters the fae realm, there is always something waiting for them to be gained.

The world around Maewyn went bright and sharp with untouched magic. She always felt it, just beyond her reach, but with those words settling on her, it became crisp like the first breeze of coming autumn.

“My Lady, I have brought the cake samples you requested. I expect you will be delighted by the pistachio cream and boar-blood-soaked sponge.”

Maewyn stood, and the book shut itself, roots curling back and away. “Leave it: I must see my groom-to-be. Now.”

The courtyards were a triumph of color, if limited to the reds and golds she had become accustomed to.

Maewyn was guided through them and then to the palace wall.

The two guards that accompanied her were stoic and broad chested, but when they reached the gate, they came to a stop in the presence of another fae.

He loomed there, blocking the way with only his will. “Yes?” His question hung in the air like a scythe.

Maewyn recognized him as frequently flitting in the shadows around Roan but had only gotten the briefest of glances as if he couldn’t be looked at directly. Now, however, she could see what the others did—a brutal darkness in his features.

One of her guards cleared his throat. “The Lady of the Harvest Way has made a request.”

“I could no longer bear to be apart from my betrothed,” Maewyn cut in, feeling the guard falter, but her gaze was drawn beyond the gates and out into the field.

Maewyn vaguely sensed Altair and Kree leave, but she was completely wrapped in wonder at Roan.

He was fifty paces off, crouched down and feeding an apple to a speckled fawn.

With his head tipped to the side and the gentlest smile on his face as the wobbly-legged baby nibbled at the fruit, the Autumn Throne’s inheritor looked positively adorable.

“I’ve come to see my prince,” she murmured, watching him still. “We need to discuss our impending nuptials…which I am eager to consummate.”

“You needn’t concoct lies for me.”

Maewyn stood straight, the dark fae’s words pulling her from the strange reverie that may not have been entirely put on.

“But do not grow complacent,” he warned, the bend to his brow never shifting. He was a fae of the Autumn Court, this she knew from the colors he wore, but there was an odd gloominess about him, and it tugged at Maewyn as he turned to lead her to Roan.

The prince stood at the sound of them approaching, and his easy smile stayed when his eyes fell on Maewyn. For the third time in as many moments, she was taken aback. “Uh, My Lord,” she said and gave a small curtsy.

Roan huffed out a chuckle. “Please, feel free to be yourself before Aunyx.”

“Humans have magic here, you dolt,” she spat. “Why would you keep something like that from me?”

One of Roan’s eyes twitched as did the corner of Aunyx’s mouth. “Perhaps be a little less yourself,” the prince grunted.

“I’m not sure what I’m meant to be.” She held out her hands as if waiting for magic to spark at her fingertips, but it didn’t come. “Don’t you think teaching me would help with all of this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I read it in your library! It was a footnote and the only reference I could find…but still!”

“Wonderful, you’ve become familiar with the books, but I certainly haven’t read all of them—”

“Any of them,” the other fae cut in.

“You see?” Roan gestured to Aunyx, who stood with hands clasped and lips sealed as if he hadn’t said a word.

“So I don’t know why you would expect me to be aware of every little detail on those pages.

Especially of humans and magic?” He screwed up his face, and beside him, his friend shook his head.

Maewyn’s excitement that had turned to anger shifted yet again so quickly it pulled the breath from her.

“I don’t know either,” she finally admitted, annoyed with herself for thinking he would be a better source than a whole tree full of books.

“I guess you’re right—you’re brainless, and I was expecting too much. ”

“All right, while perhaps slightly fair, that’s cruel.” Roan grimaced then in earnest. “Why did Altair and Kree even let you out of the library?”

Maewyn rolled her head on her shoulders. “I demanded the smallest of breaks—something I’m sure you’re very familiar with, out here hand feeding baby deer.”

“All right, well, break’s over—off you go.” He waved at the air betwixt them.

Dread built in her stomach at the thought of the cake waiting for her, which was wholly unfair to cake, but she’d had so much of it lately. If only he would just eat it himself, but of course that was it! “Isn’t it strange that we aren’t together?”

“I’m not sure we could be more together—we’re getting married,” he said as if she had forgotten and it had to be repeated slowly enough to weasel its way into her brain and stay.

“But you’re not doing any of the planning.” She licked her lips, unsure her words would work. “No one’s going to be convinced once I leave that you’re at all heartbroken if you don’t spend any time with me.”

Roan’s face snapped out of its confusion into a broad smile. “Oh, Pumpkin, do you miss me? Do you yearn for the closeness of your lover?”

“Great gods, of course you’re not really listening to me. Never mind!” She spun on her heel to leave.

Roan caught her by the elbow and spun her right back. “No, no, you may well have a point. I’m not doing my part, am I? In fact, since you’ve come to the palace, I’ve had to fend off twice as many more carnal propositions than usual.”

Maewyn blinked, mouth agape. “You’ve what?”

“I said, I’m fending them off. Not that jealousy isn’t exquisite on that face of yours.” He tapped her chin and popped her mouth closed again. “Now, if my presence is what it takes for you to get on with it, then so be it.”

Roan hadn’t thought death from boredom was possible until he teetered on its precipice.

It had been a whole day—unless one counted the first half when he was out in the orchard—but otherwise an entire day , and they appeared no closer to the severing solution he longed for.

And to make things worse, Maewyn was ignoring him .

Didn’t she want him there? Hadn’t she begged him to play paramour at her side?

He’d been so shocked at the warmth in his chest that her appearance in the orchard inspired that admittedly he tried to send her away again, but after she pleaded with that longing look in her golden eyes, he gave in to her desires.

So why now was it only the quiet hum of his tether playing in his ears and not her breathy voice? Why was she being so awful?

Roan lay sprawled, limbs flopped over the reclining branches that caught him when he’d dramatically fallen, trying to prove that he indeed would not survive a moment longer.

Maewyn had only flicked her gaze to him once and then right back to whatever damned book she was so invested in.

Sure, she sampled cakes with him—all of them would do, yes—and they’d rejected three portrait artists—no, they needed someone who could marry whimsy and solemnity in one image—but it had been an hour since, and there was at least one more to go before dinner, and what in the realm was Roan to do surrounded by books ?

“You could help ,” her voice finally cut into his swan song of low moans.

Roan lazily reached for the nearest tome, and the shelf rocked it toward him so he could pluck it off with minimal urgency.

He enchanted the book to float overhead, easy since everything in the library was imbued with weightlessness, and he flicked a finger as his magic flipped through ancient tales of daring romance.

The subject matter wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the book had been such an effort to get that he was hardly going to put it back now.

He finally settled on a tale of an elylae who had fallen deeply in love with a human after watching him chop down a tree at the edge of her forest.

“A bit counterintuitive,” he mumbled to himself.

“What was that?” Maewyn perked up, brushing a curl away from her eyes. For once, that face of hers wasn’t drawn into anger but anticipation.

“Uh, well, humans,” he said carefully, wanting to offer her something if it meant she’d keep looking at him like that. “They can beguile fae. Elylae anyway, you know, the old ones—our common ancestor.”

“Our what ?”

“Where the immortality myths come from.” He waved a hand. “The gods’ oldest creations, some of which are still rumored to, you know…troll the realms? The things that came before my people and before yours from which we are both derived, albeit in quite converse directions.”

Her brows knit and lips drew into a pout, but her eyes fell back to her book. She whispered something to it, the pages flipped, and once again she was entranced.

Roan went back to his own dull set of pages, a descriptive tale of the fae’s hesitancy to approach the object of her affection and the resulting yearning.

Oh, just seduce him for all the gods’ sakes , he thought, and his gaze shifted away from the parchment once again to fall on Maewyn.

She was chewing on her lip as she read, brows ticking up and down, and then she mouthed a few words, full lips probably sounding out a foreign phrase.

Finding a way to sever them and a door back to her home realm was possible, it had to be, but doubt crept into his gut. What if he’d set her to all of this for naught? What if they were caught in their tether forever?

Then a smile broke out on Maewyn’s face, and she nodded to herself.

A breakthrough? Roan sat up slightly, but didn’t call out to ask, afraid to spoil that look she was wearing.

Motes hovered around the edges of the book and illuminated her face from below, golden over her bronzy skin and glinting off individual strands of amber in the mass of deep brown hair that haloed her face.

Why had her people sent her away? Why would anyone do such a thing?

“Your Highness?”

Roan sat up with a start and went face first into the book, knocking it askew and setting off the roots in a scramble to collect it from the ground.

Aunyx stood at his side, appearing as silently as mist. “You are half an hour late for dinner.”

Roan blinked and huffed. Wonderful, now the human was enchanting away the time as well, and she wasn’t even using magic.