Page 32 of Straw and Gold (A Realm of Revelry #2)

Morella

I flew for miles.

I didn’t know where I was going, or what I’d do when I got there, but I flew.

I realized at least an hour had passed when the moon was full in the sky above me.

Tired, I soared on the wind toward the lights of the town ahead of me.

I’d managed to keep my thoughts blurred and my mind clear of the heartbreak, but as I landed in an alleyway and shifted back to Ravenfae, everything came crashing down.

I fell to my knees in a dirty puddle, shivering and barefoot—a mess of a queen, desperately trying to hold in broken sobs amidst the voices coming from the bustling tavern across the cobbled road.

I didn’t know which town I’d landed in or how I was going to find a place to rest until my strength returned. I had no money, no proof I was Queen of the Citrine Cliffs, and only just enough Céaduah to possibly get me through a conversation.

I recognized the language as I tried to pull my pathetic self together and gather the courage to ask for help at the tavern.

I picked myself up, brushing off what filth I could and took a deep breath.

I didn’t know what I’d do after the night was over, but finding a place to rest was forced to the forefront of my mind.

It’s why I didn’t notice the men.

Three Changelingfae stepped out from a dark alcove I hadn’t seen when I’d landed. They blocked my way out of the alley and one of them stepped forward. “Nah rud be brèagha a ayn?”

I shivered hard, understanding most of what he’d said.

Aren’t you a pretty little thing?

I braced my feet, knowing I didn’t have the strength to shift again and fly away.

“Che ehch fay ar fobh, eun brèagha.”

No need to leave, pretty bird.

His voice slurred and his friends laughed, staggering in their drunken stupors towards me.

I took it as an opening, unfurling my wings and jumping into the air, stumbling in the lack of space in the alleyway, but managing to fly over their heads.

Their hands reached for me, but missed and I tumbled back to the ground, falling slightly to my knees before I could pick myself back up and run.

I didn’t see the fourth as he grabbed hold of my wing and pulled me down to the ground. “Be eun brèagha.”

Pretty little bird.

His breath reeked of ale and I kicked him right in his teeth, fumbling to my feet and breaking into a run. I passed the tavern and the closed shops, my footfall slapping against the hard bricks, breaking open my skin.

“Cidech mi!” I screamed, pleading for anyone to help as I was toppled by one of them, falling onto the cold stone of a bridge over a rushing river.

His hand covered my mouth next as he pinned me.

I gagged and kicked, flailing my fists in all the soft places on his body, earning a hard grunt and curse as he fell off me.

My brother had taught me hand-to-hand combat and I’d taught him how to knit. One of these skills was more valuable to a lone woman in Revelry.

I kicked his face while he was down, bracing myself for the next one as he launched at me, attempting to grab my arms. I ducked, earning another curse as I punched at the bend of his knees, causing him to topple forward.

Already drunk and stumbling, he landed on the stone wall of the bridge and I helped him right over.

His scream lit the night air before there was a splash and the third man rushed to the railing, screaming his name.

“Chan ur ha sàm!”

He can’t swim!

I laughed, manically, wiping my hair off my face. “Am chrò dhuinn ficainn an ur dhut?”

Should we see if you can?

He cursed in a word I’d not yet learned, but assumed was something foul, and lunged, fingers curled and face mad with rage.

He dropped dead before I could ready a stance to toss him over the side as well. A knife protruded from his spine, glinting in the moonlight.

I gasped, stepping back and tripping over the first one still sobbing on the ground with a broken nose, blood gushing onto the stone. Another knife flew through the air, slicing into his neck in the cleanest throw I’d ever seen.

I blinked in confusion as Killian raced across the bridge, two more knives already in hand, his eyes piercing mine as he reached the bodies. Fedir was only a few steps behind, dragging the fourth, pathetic whimpers coming from the last of the men who’d assaulted me, planning for worse.

“Are you hurt?” Killian asked, his eyes roaming over my body in assessment.

“Not really,” I replied, ignoring the sting of cuts on my feet.

He nodded in silence, taking the knife from the man’s back and tossing him over the side of the bridge.

As if the corpse was no more than a pillow, he picked up the next, flinging it into the river as well.

We stared at each other as we heard the splash of the third Changelingfae we’d killed tonight.

“One more,” Fedir called, tossing forward the last of my attackers. He hit the stones in a scream of pain, his shoulder popped out of its socket.

Killian lifted him with ease, tossing him over the side to join the others in a watery grave.

He held his hand out to me in silence and I took it, the night suddenly too quiet.

He led me to a wooden lamppost at the end of the bridge, Fedir following just close enough to touch Killian’s shoulder before we shifted through the wood.

A tavern booth.

A stack of logs.

A grove of trees and then we were back, shifting out of our bedroom door, warm and familiar.

I took a few weak steps, inhaling sharply on my cut feet before I fell to the floor.

“Your Majesty!” Fedir cried, instantly at my feet, surveying the damage. “You’ll need these washed and bandaged. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

I shook my head.

“Leave, Fedir.” Killian slid out of his jacket, surprisingly free of blood.

The captain ignored him, continuing. “You might be sore in the morning. We arrived just as you tossed that piece of shit into the river. Once Killian found me, we followed you through the fields beneath the trees. You were easy enough to spot with your golden feathers. When you fell from the sky, it took us a minute to figure out exactly where you landed. But we followed your shouts.” He lifted my foot, dabbing at the blood with a handkerchief.

“Glad to see our queen can hold her own in a fight.”

I hissed as he pulled a rock from the cut.

He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Fedir, go,” Killian ordered, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves and jerking his head toward the door.

Fedir ignored him again, lifting my other foot and inspecting the lesser cuts. “I have an ointment that can help your healing, but your sister’s might be?—”

“Get the fuck out!” Killian snapped.

“Not until I’m done,” Fedir growled.

“I order you out of this room, Captain!”

Fedir flashed to his feet, meeting Killian in a rage. “She is my queen !”

“SHE IS MY WIFE !”

The air left my lungs and my chin trembled as I looked upon them both.

Fedir stepped back instantly, nodding slowly.

He huffed a short laugh. “About fucking time.” Bowing to me as I sat on the floor, he said, “I’ll check on you in the morning.

” He slapped Killian’s shoulder as he left, softly closing the carved wooden door behind him.

Killian lowered himself to the floor, assessing me with a murderous look. “Did they touch you?”

I shook my head. “Not like that. But—” I bit my lips together, gathering courage. “But they would have if you hadn’t found me.”

He murmured softly, “Are you alright, Moh Dhóches?”

I gave him a small smile. “Yes. With you.”

His lashes fluttered at my words before he offered his hands, lifting me as I took them. He helped me to the chair by the fire, adding, “Sit. Do not move.”

I nodded obediently and he left through the bathing room door, returning shortly with a stool and small basin of steaming water.

He sat, barely fitting on the stool as he bent, picking up my ankle and gently lowering my foot into the heat. I gripped the sides of the chair but didn’t make a sound, even through the sharp sting.

He took a deep breath and began to speak. “The first woman I ever loved, Céad murdered in our bed.”

I stilled as he washed, his large hands so delicate and gentle tracing over my wounds.

“Her name was Claragh and we were barely twenty-two. I’d just become king and had years left in the bargain before she needed to discover my name, so she never even tried.

” He patted my foot dry, unfolding a towel and revealing a jar of Seraphine’s blue healing salve and strips of cloth.

As he added the ointment, he continued. “We were young and in love. Nothing could stand in our way and our future was bright. I woke in her bed one morning and I thought she was still asleep.” He began to wrap my foot gently, tying the ends of the cloth together.

“It took me ten minutes of lying next to her before I realized something was wrong.”

He set my foot on the floor and picked up the next. “Hanreigh came into my life a year later. She was the daughter of a shepherd I visited often as we experimented with the moss from the Brackish Wood. I slept with her once and found her dead the next morning.”

I swallowed, a single tear flowing down my cheek. “How did she?—”

He looked up. “Céad cut their throats. I heard the madness in her laughter upon each discovery of their bodies.”