Page 22 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)

Killian

We took a simple carriage across the green fields to the largest town in the Citrine Cliffs.

Cenmar was the hub of trade to the other kingdoms in Revelry, which made it full of humans and faekind alike, along with different languages.

Céaduah was common, especially in the sections of town where the locals purchased their goods and lived if they worked in the castle.

Hoods up and cloaks drawn, Fedir and I guided Morella through the streets, desiring to be unrecognized during our short trip.

Of course, no one would know Morella. Her wings were hidden well and she had not been queen long enough to have her likeness painted or her breathtaking smile known and her laughter heard among my people.

We walked the rows of tents in the market and she listened carefully, picking up on the haggling of prices and banter between merchants and patrons of their wares.

I brought her to a stall of silks, naming each color and having her repeat after me. Fedir lingered behind us, watching the crowd and winking at a variety of beautiful faces.

Morella’s fingers trailed over all the fabrics and she rubbed a few between her fingers, commenting in broken Céaduah on their texture.

Her gift for picking up the language was staggering. It had taken me years to really grasp it enough to regularly speak it, and not for the first time, I guessed that being part Changelingfae meant she had an affinity for it.

We spent the day wandering, speaking, practicing the language I needed her to know.

I needed her to understand its intricacies.

I needed her to know it on a level where she dreamed in Céaduah.

We snacked on roasted nuts and fresh cheeses melted over toasted bread.

As the sun began to lower and her feet shuffled heavily across the cobblestones, we moved on to a small tavern at the end of the market street.

We ordered dinner and settled into a booth at the back, away from the crowd.

“What else would you like to see in Cenmar?” I asked as she tore into her mutton pie.

She took a long swallow of ale before answering in Céaduah. “Creags? I overheard the word a few times and assumed it’s a place.”

Fedir smirked, folding his arms and settling himself back into his side of the booth, waiting for my answer.

I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth. “I already tried to show you the cliffs and you fell out of the sky.”

“Creags is cliffs?” she asked.

“The Citrine Cliffs,” Fedir answered. “The same cliffs you need to stand on and say his true name.”

She gasped and leaned forward, whispering harshly across the table. “You know about our bargain? Do you know his name? And why do I have to stand there?”

Fedir joined her in a conspiratorial murmur. “I do, no, and because that’s part of his bargain with Céad.”

She inhaled loudly again, turning to me sitting beside her with an enormously charming open-mouthed grin. “You made a bargain with Céad? You didn’t tell me that part!” She grabbed my forearm and jostled it.

“He can’t tell you anything, my queen,” Fedir continued and I nodded for him to explain. “You see, when King Killian was young, he was a powerful Forestfae. He could shift through the trees just as any other, yes, but he could also…change them.”

“Change them how?” she insisted, squeezing my arm.

“Our young Killian here could change the trees into sentient beings. A new kind of fae he called Dryads.”

“But that’s…” she glanced back at me.

“A fae Goddess trait, yes,” I finished. “Keep listening.”

Fedir continued, pushing his plate and mug aside. “When the Forestfae Goddess Fiola found out, she went straight to Céad who had been searching for an heir to take her place. Killian’s power of such enormous change might interest her.”

“And did it?”

Fedir nodded. “It angered Céad as well. The line of a Goddess’s power does not often fall to men, so why would one have so much of it? And one who had no Changelingfae lineage?”

I shifted uncomfortably, rolling my shoulders. Her fingers pressed lightly to my arm and I took a deep breath.

Fedir sighed and continued. “The truth is, Queen Morella, no one knows how or why Killian had such power. But he was clever. He knew upon meeting Céad that she wouldn’t think twice about ending his life and any chance of continuing this power of his on to children of his own.

So he offered her a bargain. She would crown him as king of her people.

He would rule all of the Citrine Cliffs and the Changelingfae and he would never create another Dryad again.

He would offer his life not as her heir, but as the guiding ruler of her people, and a benevolent one at that. ”

Morella turned her head, giving me a dreamy grin.

“But that wasn’t enough for her,” Fedir continued, drawing her attention.

“He would become king, yes, but none would know his true name and Céad would take his power of change from him. He would forever be known as someone else, and if he could find someone to discover his true name, all of his power would return. Only then would he be truly known throughout the kingdom.”

Morella bit her lip. “So when I figure out his name, I have to stand before the Citrine Cliffs and speak it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, catching my eye. “At dawn as the sun glints off the crystals and lines the canyon in golden light.”

Morella’s eyes widened as she turned to me. “Why didn’t you tell me that essential detail?”

“He cannot,” Fedir explained. “For part of the bargain is that he could tell only one single soul any important details on the bargain’s fulfillment.”

“And that’s…you?”

He hummed his confirmation. “I am allowed to tell whomever I wish.”

She slipped her hand from my arm, folding them in her lap with a weighted pause. A frown slowly spread across her lips and she stared at the table in front of her. Finally, she asked, “How many, Fedir?”

“Sorry?” he mumbled.

I felt the calm cold coming from her as she clarified. “How many Changelingfae have taken this bargain and tried to discover his name?”

My captain huffed a laugh, attempting to brush off the question. “I don’t see how that’s?—”

“How many?”

I folded my arms at my chest, answering for him. “Three.”

She nodded without looking my way. “And where are these Changelingfae now?” she whispered.

“Dead,” I finished.

“Why?” she snapped, finally looking my way in a blaze of ire.

“My Queen,” Fedir interrupted, “perhaps that’s a story for another ti?—”

“They entered the bargain with me,” I answered.

“Killian, do you think it’s wise to?—”

“Ah,” she started, turning her body and inching closer. “And there’s the truth of it. A great king on his fourth attempt at finding someone who can discover the most basic of truths about him. This explains so much.”

I bared my teeth, meeting her with my own lean into her space. “And what exactly does it explain, Goldling?”

Fedir cleared his throat. “I’ll just go see about those fabrics, then.”

I barely perceived his leaving.

“Your attempt at control of all things,” she continued, holding my stare. “You left out that little part in our bargain. You can’t change Seraphine as you are, can you?”

“No.”

“You need me just as much as I need you.”

“Yes.” My treacherous eyes darted to her lips.

“What a fool you must think I am.” She shook her head in a sneer.

“Your tag-along little wife, learning the Céaduah language because maybe, just maybe , she’ll figure out your true name and return your power.

If she doesn’t?” She leaned closer, fury in her eyes.

“No harm done to you, right? You’ll just look for another and bury her with the rest.”

Her wings flared and she rose, attempting to climb over me to exit the booth.

I grabbed her wrist before she could flee on golden raven wings, and we shifted through the wooden table.

I held her tightly to my chest, shifting through the old wooden well bucket, next the rolling ladder of my favorite bookseller.

We shifted further from town, sliding through the trees until at last I stopped.

Holding her arms at her side and pressing her back to my chest, we landed under the trees at the precipice of the Citrine Cliffs—exactly where she was meant to fly that day I showed her the library.

The wind rose, pulling hair from her braid in black wisps.

I leaned down, whispering in her ear, “You will discover my true name, Moh Dhóches.” I swept her hair back from her face, gathering the bundle of long, thick strands in my hand, tugging them gently so her head fell back and she could meet my eyes.

“You will say it here, before the next ten weeks are over when the golden light of dawn hits this very spot.”

She wiggled an arm free and wrapped her fingers over my hand at her neck. “If I’m not dead fir?—”

I grabbed the base of her chin, closing her mouth before she could finish. “Oh, no, Moh Dhóches, there is no death coming to you. I’ll make sure of that.”

Her breath caught and her eyes of speckled gold flickered over mine with an intensity I did not expect.

A longing in her gaze pierced me and sharpened my grin.

I slid my fingers from her chin, trailing them slowly down her neck, exposed and soft.

“Do you enjoy being held this way?” I questioned, my hands softly following the slope of her chest.

She inhaled sharply when I reached her belly, pressing so she lay flush with my own body. “Maybe I enjoy it, too.” I shifted, allowing my hard cock to lay flush with her back. I chuckled softly as her eyes widened in an understanding of what she did to me.

In a flash of feathers, she turned, slipping out of my grasp and pressing her chest flush with mine.

Grabbing the lapels of my jacket, she pulled herself up to murmur near my lips, “You are nothing more than talk, Killian.” She slid her hands under the midnight silk, running the pads of her fingers across my skin.

“You could have had me any way you like by now, but you’ve chosen to keep yourself at arm’s length and omit some very pertinent information about what happens to the fae you bring into your bargains. ”

Catching her wrist, I pulled her knuckles to my lips. “You would have said no. I needed you to say yes.”

She shook her head. “Our marriage contract says three months and either of us can give this up…what happens to you in three months, Killian?”

Goddess, she was clever. “I cannot tell you,” I paused, lifting her chin for emphasis. “…Moh Dhóches.”

She caught my hint instantly, her brows narrowed in thought. “My…something,” she started. “My…chance? My…my last chance?”

I shook my head softly, still holding her hand and pressing it to my heart. “My future now lies with you. As soon as you entered that bargain, you sealed it. You control what happens on this cliff less than ten weeks from now. You , Morella.”

A shiver racked through her body and she nodded. “Moh Dhóches,” she repeated. “My Fate.”