Page 27 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses (Cursed Fae Courts #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Aurelia

C allan came for me right after lunch as promised. I’d eaten in my room as I’d done every day since arriving. No one had invited me to dine elsewhere, and I wasn’t exactly antsy for another chance to share a meal with Duron, so I’d accepted the tray without complaint.

Vanya was carrying it out when Callan appeared.

“Afternoon,” he said with a smile that held no trace of the strain from yesterday. “How’d it go with the interviews?” he asked. “Did you find a suitable second maid?”

“I don’t see why I need two,” I said again.

He shrugged. “My father insisted. It’s royal protocol, apparently.”

I frowned. Protocol or another form of control?

He pushed off the door frame. “I’ll take care of it if you don’t want to bother.”

“Fine,” I said, stifling a yawn.

I’d stayed up late, reading the book about Vorinth—which, it turned out, had been the capital city of the Calidium Empire some fifteen hundred years ago. I hadn’t found anything that seemed useful in curse-breaking, and nothing about runes, but even worse, I’d found myself re-reading entire paragraphs after my mind inevitably wandered back to Rydian.

I hated him for hating me.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about touching him.

“Ready to go?” Callan asked, yanking me from my thoughts.

“Yes,” I said with enough enthusiasm that I earned a wry smile.

“Eager to get out of here?” he teased.

I bit my lip, unsure how to answer that, but he just laughed. “Believe me, I know how you feel.”

He led me out of the castle where I found a waiting carriage and a full entourage of armed men.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked.

“Better to be safe,” he said as he helped me into the carriage.

We rode side by side, our legs pressing against one another as the carriage bumped down the road. When we passed through the gate, Callan exhaled.

I found myself doing the same.

“You look nice today,” he said.

“Thank you. The dressmaker did a good job.”

He winked. “She had a beautiful canvas to work with.”

We hit a bump hard enough to jostle me nearly out of my seat. Callan caught me, bracing me with his hands as he laughed. “We are in sorry need of road repairs after the last rainy season.”

“Maybe it would’ve been better on horseback after all,” I said, straightening.

“If we were on horseback, I couldn’t do this.” Callan slid his hand down my arm and laced his fingers through mine.

I went still, too surprised to pull away. His hand was warm and not altogether terrible. More… strange. I stared at ou r joined hands, wondering when last I’d been touched like this.

Lesha had hugged me before she left. And Sonoma?—

No. I wasn’t going to think about her right now.

“We’re nearly there.” Callan’s voice called me back, and I peered through the small window as the first glimpse of the city of Grey Oak came into view.

I drank it in, hungry for the sight of people. But then the guards pressed in tightly around our carriage, and the view was lost.

I sat back.

Callan squeezed my hand.

Finally, the carriage pulled to a stop.

The door opened, and Callan released me long enough to climb out. He reached back for my hand, and I gave it to him, stepping into the crisp sunshine. Rows of upscale shops greeted me, their window displays dripping with luxury and jewels.

The street was empty of traffic, which I found surprising, considering all the shopping choices. It took me a moment to realize our armed escorts had blocked off the road in both directions to accommodate us.

“Where are we?” I asked, noting the wariness in the soldiers’ expressions. They were truly worried for us. Callan’s warning about unrest must’ve been warranted. It made me wish I’d strapped a sword to my body, though I wasn’t sure it would’ve been possible given all the layers of this gown. I’d forgotten how exposed it felt to travel without a weapon.

“We’re in a shopping district in the heart of the city,” Callan said. “Is something wrong?”

“Actually, I wondered if we could go meet the oracle you told me about.”

His eyes flashed once then sparkled again. There and gone so quickly, but I was learning how to read Callan like a book. He was angry. “Of course. We’ll go there next. There’s a jewelry shop nearby I thought you might like.”

A jewelry shop? “I thought we were going to meet the people of your kingdom.”

He lifted a brow. “Isn’t the jeweler part of my kingdom?”

“Fine,” I agreed grudgingly then pulled up short, the reality only just now dawning on me. “I don’t have any coin.”

He laughed. “Relax, darling. You have a walking treasure chest at your side.”

I didn’t have time to protest before he pulled me onto the sidewalk and down the street.

The city of Grey Oak reminded me, at first, of Rosewood. The streets beyond the guards’ perimeter were lively enough with fae coming and going in all directions, but the vibrancy I remembered from my own city—the light, the magic—was missing. There was an air of forced cheerfulness, and the few fae I spotted beyond the blockade bowed their heads too quickly, their smiles too brief. It all felt… muted.

Callan kept a measured pace beside me, darting glances into alleyways as we passed them. Up ahead, our escorts carefully cleared the way, and more soldiers flanked us at a distance, but I could sense the tension in their movements too.

“Here we are,” Callan said, gesturing to a small boutique with a window display of jewels that shone in the sunlight.

He gripped my elbow as he guided me into the shop.

Inside, the shopkeeper—a hunched old man with graying hair—greeted us from behind the glass counter with a bow so deep it seemed painful.

“Your Highnesses,” he said, his voice rasping as he rose. “It’s an honor. Truly.”

Callan smiled that perfect, courtly smile and gestured to the displays. “We’ve come to see the pieces you’ve prepared for Princess Aurelia.”

The shopkeeper nodded eagerly, moving quickly to bring out a tray of intricate necklaces and bracelets. I stepped closer, admiring the craftsmanship, but it was the shopkeeper’s pale, trembling hands that held my attention.

“These are beautiful,” I said, touching one of the necklaces lightly. “How long have you been crafting jewelry?”

“Oh, nearly sixty years now, Your Highness,” the shopkeeper replied, his tone polite but strained. “Though… it’s not as easy as it once was.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

The shopkeeper hesitated, his eyes darting to Callan before he looked back at me. “I used to weave enchantments into the stones, into the metal, but ever since the donations?—”

“Enough,” Callan said sharply, stepping forward, his hand closing around my arm with more pressure than necessary. “Why don’t you wander a bit while I have him wrap something up for you? It’ll be a surprise engagement gift.”

I pulled my arm free, glaring.

The shopkeeper hung his head, refusing to look at either of us, and something inside me snapped.

“No, thanks,” I said flatly.

The shopkeeper’s head lifted just enough for me to spot the fear and regret. “I-I’m sorry, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect.”

“Silence,” Callan roared at him.

The male flinched back, cowering.

“Don’t speak to him like that,” I said just as a crash echoed from the street, followed by shouting.

The shop door flew open, and a group of cloaked strangers barged in, their faces hidden beneath baggy, black hoods.

“Free the land, free the fae!” one of them shouted, and everything descended into chaos.

“Stop the donations,” a second one yelled.

Callan was in front of me instantly, shielding me with his body as the cloaked strangers surged forward. “Stay behind me,” he ordered me, his voice nearly as cold and commanding as it’d been with the jeweler.

The hooded strangers drew swords, and my breath caught. “Give me a blade,” I hissed at Callan.

He ignored me.

I looked around, trying to find something I could use as a weapon. Before I could find anything beyond useless baubles, the strangers attacked.

Shelves crashed over, and beads and chains went flying. The shopkeeper cried out then disappeared through a doorway behind the counter. I debated going after him to make sure he stayed safe, but Callan lunged sloppily to block one of the attackers, and I turned my attention to not getting stabbed.

I felt naked without a blade or magic to wield, relying entirely on my quick footwork to remain unharmed. Callan stumbled and grunted and stabbed his way down the narrow aisle. I watched, confused and horrified. He had the basics down, but he looked nothing like the vicious and cunning war general the stories claimed.

Twice, I shoved him aside to help him avoid being skewered.

“Stay back,” he roared at me in place of thanks.

Another Autumn soldier stumbled into me, separating me from Callan. My magic strained to be unleashed, but I held it back. Through the window, I saw three more cloaked figures rushing to the shop.

Callan must’ve seen them too.

“Take her out the back,” he yelled.

One of the soldiers grabbed me and ushered me around the counter and through the door the shopkeeper had used.

“Hurry,” the soldier urged.

The voice was familiar. I glanced back.

Fletcher .

“Go!” He practically shoved to keep me moving.

I raced through a storeroom and out the back door into a narrow alley, my breath coming fast as I tried to get my bearings in a foreign place.

“Get to the—” Fletcher’s order abruptly went silent.

I turned as the young soldier suddenly lurched to a stop in the open doorway. He took a breath and straightened, all the color gone from his face. A short blade was buried in his hip.

“Don’t pull it out,” I said when he reached for it.

He let his hand drop.

A snarl sounded behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, expression strained.

“Find a place to hide. Wait for me,” he said quickly then slammed the door shut—sealing me out, alone. Inside the storeroom, swords were clanging.

Seven Hels.

I spun around to face the alley again and saw a cloaked figure standing at its mouth. The hood had been pulled up too far to see their face, but judging from the crooked blade they held, I had a feeling they weren’t here to be friends.

I took a step back, glancing around for some sort of weapon. Empty cartons littered the alley along with bags of trash that turned my stomach with their wretched smell. But nothing I could use to defend myself.

The cloaked figure stalked forward. I kept my eyes on the hood—straining to see what lay inside it. But darkness obscured the face of the stranger.

Or maybe magic.

Something other clung to it, though I couldn’t sense what.

The figure stopped several paces in front of me. It sniffed the air between us. Then, a raspy female voice said, “You’re the Summer Court heir.”

“I’m not your enemy,” I replied.

“You’re engaged to the Autumn Prince? ”

I hesitated, but lying was pointless. “Yes.”

“Then you are my enemy now.”

She lifted the blade. Left with no choice, I reached for my furyfire, but she suddenly jolted. Her knees seemed to buckle, and then she fell.

Behind her stood Rydian, his dark gaze glittering with depthless, burning wrath. “She is not yours to claim,” he snarled at the fallen fae, for all the good it did.

She was already dead.