Page 24 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses (Cursed Fae Courts #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Aurelia

T he sun had set by the time Vanya finished helping me dress. A night sky brilliant with stars pressed in against the window, leaving a chill on the glass. The fire’s warmth and light chased it away.

“Vanya, you’re a genius,” I declared as I studied my reflection in the mirror beside the armoire.

She ducked her head, her cheeks flushing. “Thanks.”

In a short time, she’d transformed the gown into something even more beautiful. The bodice was made of silk stitched into lace, fitting my torso in flattering detail. The gauzy skirt swished but in an understated way. She’d even taken a few discarded beads and placed them on a headband she’d pressed into my upswept hair.

“A tiara for the princess,” she’d said.

It was perfect.

“Wow, this makes me wish I’d brought more of my clothes from home,” I said.

“Are the dressmakers in your court not very skilled then?” she asked.

I swallowed hard. “My court was cursed by Heliconia.” I ground the words out, knowing I’d have to say them soon enough to the king and anyone else I met after tonight. “They are bound in perpetual sleep.”

Vanya looked stricken. “They never wake?”

“Not in seven years.”

“And you escaped the curse?”

Her question was tentative, clearly not meant to offend. But it twisted the knife in my chest all the same. “The Aine helped,” I said—because it wasn’t a lie exactly.

Her forehead crinkled. “You still have Aine in your kingdom?”

“We did.” My throat closed, and I changed the subject before the memory of Sonoma and the others cost me my control. “I came here to honor my original alliance with Autumn so they might help me free the Summer fae.”

“Summer. But…” Her eyes widened. “It’s a miracle from the Fates. Everyone thinks you’re—” She stopped herself.

“Dead?” I finished for her. She winced in silent apology, but I offered her a smile. “Heliconia can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Vanya’s expression softened. “You are brave to come here.”

I looked away, unable to handle her pity. “You’ve been really helpful,” I said, once again facing the mirror.

She took the hint and let it drop.

I watched while Vanya cleaned up the supplies she’d used on my dress, tucking everything into the armoire where my only other gown now hung. I went back to smoothing my skirt, studying my reflection as I braced myself for tonight’s dinner.

A moment later, a soft knock echoed through my room, pulling me from my thoughts. Vanya answered it, and I turned just as Callan stepped inside.

The warmth in his gaze flickered with something unreadable as he studied me in the pale blue gown.

“You look beautiful.”

I blinked at the compliment, the unexpected sincerity throwing me off guard. “Thank you,” I murmured, glancing away to hide the slight flush that crept up my cheeks.

I was out of practice, that was all. When was the last time I’d been complimented? Or admired?

Callan stepped forward, offering his arm. “Come. My father is eager to meet you.”

I hesitated before sliding my hand into the crook of his arm. There was a tension simmering just beneath his skin, but I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or something else entirely.

“Are you nervous?” I asked as he led me from the room.

Callan chuckled softly, though the sound lacked its usual humor. “I’d be crazy not to be.”

I looked up at him, searching his face. His eyes were darker tonight, the usual spark of amusement dulled by something more serious. “Do you think he’ll be upset about our arrangement?”

He flashed a smile. “You just let me do the talking. Everything will work out.”

Just like in the entryway, the walls around us were adorned with tapestries that depicted the Autumn fae’s long rule through images of battles and thrones. Even in the beautifully sewn fabrics, the images portrayed a brutality I’d never witnessed in Summer’s history. Some scenes offered glimpses into various magic-wielders, but most told a story of bloodied battlefields and sharpened swords. Not a single tapestry contained a female ruler—royalty or military.

“Any advice besides being seen and not heard?” I asked as we neared a set of double doors at the end of the hall.

Callan chuckled, completely ignoring my sarcasm. “Stop worrying. You’re more than enough to impress my father.”

“Let’s hope that’s true since I don’t have much else to offer,” I shot back.

A tight smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

The dining hall was dimly lit, the towering oak doors ahead of us standing like sentinels guarding a secret. Callan paused before them, turning to face me fully. For a moment, the weight of his gaze was enough to make my breath hitch, and I could feel the unspoken words lingering between us.

“If things don’t go well tonight…” He hesitated, his hand reaching up as if to brush a stray lock of hair from my face but stopping just short. “I hope you know that I’m glad you’re here.”

Before I could respond, the heavy doors swung open, revealing the cavernous dining hall beyond. The edges of the room were wreathed in shadows that held movement and whispers—evidence that we were not alone. Only the middle of the space was well-lit by a chandelier that glowed with torchlight. And in the very center, seated at the head of a polished oak table, was the king.

Duron didn’t bother to rise as we entered. His gaze—piercing and sharp as a hawk’s—swept over me, assessing, calculating.

“Father,” Callan said, his voice transforming into a more formal tone as we approached.

“You’ve returned from your little adventure, I see,” Duron said. “And you did not return empty-handed.”

“You’re correct. May I present Aurelia, heir to the Summer Court.”

Duron’s eyes gleamed with hunger as they settled on me, and for a moment, I felt as though I were standing naked before him. Every secret I held, every doubt, every hope—it was as if he was attempting to dig it up and snatch it into his claws for whatever use he might have for it later.

I straightened my spine, forcing myself to meet his gaze head-on. And to keep him from taking anything I didn’t willingly offer.

“Princess Aurelia,” he said, scanning the length of me in a frank and crude assessment. “Alive and in the flesh. We thought the Summer Court lost years ago.”

“And so they are, in a manner of speaking,” I said, dipping my chin and bowing before looking up again.

He frowned. “And what manner is that, exactly?”

I tensed before shoving out the words that revealed my kingdom was vulnerable. “The Summer Court has been cursed with perpetual sleep by Heliconia. They do not wake, and they do not age. They are cursed to remain frozen while the rest of the realm moves on.”

“All except you,” he said, and beneath those words lurked the question.

“The Aine saved me,” I said, the half-truth rolling off my tongue much more smoothly this time. “They created powerful wards, a protection against anyone who might see advantage or opportunity in the kingdom’s current fate.”

He showed no hint of surprise. He’d known already—at least about the wards.

“You honor us with your presence.” Though his words were polite, there was a chill in them, a subtle undercurrent to match my own.

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty,” I replied, dipping into a curtsy as gracefully as I could manage despite the tension coursing through my veins.

The king nodded but said nothing more as Callan led me to the second chair on the king’s right. Mercifully, Callan took the empty seat between us, and the meal was served.

Servants appeared, somber and silent as they brought dish after dish. Roast pheasant and chicken, garlic-crusted grounquail, baked summer potatoes, butter-smothered beans, and corn. It was delicious—or would’ve been if I could taste it. But I took bite after bite without noticing a single flavor, thanks to the nerves that gripped me.

The king ate in silence—a sound I’d grown all too practiced with. Except that, this sort of quiet was full of threats. I could feel them sinking their claws into my skin—whispering their dangers in my ears.

Finally, Duron set his fork aside and picked up his wine. Over the rim of his glass, he said, “I am told my son has brought you here under the pretense of an engagement.”

I started to answer, but Callan cut me off.

“No pretense, Father. I intend to honor my word.”

The king’s eyes narrowed. “You are making promises for your king now?”

“Of course not. But Aurelia and I once agreed on a marriage alliance, and now that she’s been returned to me, that alliance stands,” Callan said. His words were careful, his tone deceivingly light.

“And this alliance—does it come with an army to aid us? Or will all her subjects serve their crown from the comfort of their pillows?”

My hand tightened on my napkin.

Callan’s expression was somber. “Aurelia’s kingdom needs our help, Father.”

“What about what we need?” Duron growled. “Or have you lost all sense of loyalty to your own crown?”

Callan frowned. “Of course not. I am doing this for our people. Once the curse is broken, we will have the strength of two kingdoms behind us.”

“And who exactly is going to break this curse?”

Callan looked at me. “Aurelia and I will find a way.”

I see,” the king said so sharply that I nearly winced. “And does either one of you have a plan to accomplish this task?”

I met his gaze evenly, the words tumbling out vehemently. “I intend to do whatever it takes to break the curse and take my vengeance on the one who cast it. My contribution to this alliance is being willing to drain myself of everything the Fates gifted me with if that’s what it takes to bring Heliconia to her knees.”

The king raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what kind of magic do those gifts include, exactly?”

I blinked, realizing too late I’d opened myself up. “I wield the same power as my father.”

It wasn’t a lie.

The king leaned back in his chair. “I see.”

His gaze flicked to Callan beside me, some sort of silent exchange passing between them. Callan’s hand rested lightly on my arm, a steady presence amid the tension swirling around us—and a gesture the king didn’t miss. Duron’s mouth quirked up like he was somehow pleased Callan was being so affectionate with me.

“We are sympathetic to the fate of your king and queen,” Duron said, at last looking back at me. The sorrow in his eyes went just deep enough to make his words seem sincere. In this moment, I could see where Callan got his charm, false as it was.

“My son is right,” Duron went on. “A promise is meant to be kept. We will aid you in whatever way we can to end this curse. And we welcome you into the Autumn Court—your new home.”

Callan exhaled.

I forced a smile. “Thank you for your support.”

“Of course. Callan will provide you with whatever you need.” He waved a hand, offering up riches and resources as if they were nothing but air. “And we’ll throw a party the likes of which the courts have never seen.”

“You don’t have to do that?—”

“Of course we do,” he snapped, silencing me. “We are the light of the realm. Our unwavering strength is our greatest defense against the blight of the Winter Queen. We’ll throw a party where you will swear yourselves to one another before every court in Menryth.” He looked at Callan, eyes glittering. “This will be the first of many alliances to come.”

Then he signaled for more wine, and that was clearly the end of our negotiation.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Callan asked a moment later.

“The chicken is particularly good,” Duron said before I could answer. “You have our thanks for the contribution.”

I frowned. “My contribution?”

“You brought them with you, did you not?” Duron asked, confusion marring his thick brow.

Callan’s bright expression faltered.

Realization bloomed like a poison in my gut. I nodded, forcing my expression to remain neutral. “I did.”

Duron grunted and went back to his food. But I caught the cruel enjoyment on his face before he lowered it for another bite.

I forced myself to eat the chicken, but I didn’t let my guard down. Not an inch.

Whatever the king wanted from this alliance, it wasn’t just about politics or power. There was something more, something I had yet to fully understand. Rydian’s warning echoed in my mind, but I shoved it back. I had the prophecy on my side—and the power of the Fates inside me. If anyone was going to be used, it was the Autumn King.