Page 5 of This Midsummer Heart (Seasons of Legend #4)
Chapter five
At Titaine's Mercy
Auberon
A
t
last,
some
of
Titaine’s people arrive to assist with my personal effects. A formation of half a dozen fae—tall, wiry warriors and not servants—saunter up the street, a smug expression on each face. I recognize the fae in charge, and I know he takes all too much pleasure in my current state.
Does he know? Do all of the House of Fetes know my abandonment means I am no longer the elven Houselord?
“Woodric,” I greet the warrior stiffly.
“Better give me those, your lordship,” Woodric says, his voice as shockingly deep and gravelly as ever. “Can’t have the lady’s former mate seen like this.”
I give him the wadded ball of my bedding, and frown as the fae warriors—slight beings, compared to the elves—lift each of the trunks the Scribes so helpfully deposited outside my own gates. Elves are pure, lean muscle. But fae?
They are no stronger than children without their magic. Was I misled? Do
the fae still have their magic?
I follow the bleak procession down the street and around the corner to the House of Fetes, marveling at how easily they carry all my worldly goods. I thought Titaine was out of options when she came to me. Had she planned this all along?
By the time my boot touches the first stepping stone inside the House of Fetes’ grounds, I am very certain I’ve been set up, and furious. As Titaine appears farther ahead on the Fetes’ winding garden paths, I am ready to shout at her—until I see the sweat beading on the back of Woodric’s neck.
Each of the six fae are dew-skinned from their labors. They don’t
have full access to their magic—and they aren’t glamouring away this sign of their diminishment, either.
My anger vanishes, becoming something near to pity.
They were my people once, too—though by the end of my time with Titaine, I rarely had a hand in any business of the House of Fetes.
I can’t help but feel for them anyway. The elves will grow ordinary without their magic, maybe even weak. But these fae?
They might die without magic.
Titaine might die.
The thought strikes me like the first effects of poison. Minutes ago, hadn’t I hoped to never see Titaine again? Now I feel as though I wished this fate on her.
Still, she puts on a brave face. As I meet Titaine on the path, she is as ethereal and golden as ever, just as on that day when I first beheld her on the road through the woods, looking like another ray of sunshine filtering through the boughs.
Of course, she wears her glamour in front of me now.
Even when we were together, it was not often I could see what lay underneath.
Titaine’s glamour does not add to her beauty, however. The lines of her face are simple and delicate, her cheeks and lips naturally rosy. She only uses glamours to hide her feelings. If I had noticed that when we were still together, I might’ve saved us both a lot of heartache.
“I see you don’t need a servant to dress you after all,” she says, arching a brow as she reaches out to straighten the neckline of my tunic. One corner is folded in against my collarbone. “But barely,” she adds, her mouth curving into a wicked grin.
“What do you want, Titaine?”
She meets my gaze levelly somehow, as if she were anywhere close to my height.
Her hand still rests lightly on my collarbone.
The bees are buzzing merrily in the garden around us, competing with the white and yellow butterflies, the sun hot on my back.
It’s perfect, here in the gardens of the House of Fetes.
For a moment, I’m transported back in time—to a happier era.
“I want the same thing you do,” she says. I very much doubt that, but I hold my tongue. “To go to the City of Nox.”
“The runeships are gone, if you hadn’t noticed.”
She tilts her head. “I’ll admit, part of me actually thought you stayed behind just to gloat. Your people are all safe, and most of mine are still here.”
Titaine is standing too close. I can smell the honeysuckle scent of her hair, mixing with the lavender and early summer roses of the garden that hugs this path, as if she were just another flower. I can’t hide the way my throat bobs as I swallow thickly.
“You didn’t know, did you?” She withdraws.
A tiny, infuriating piece of me regrets that she pulls her hand away, too.
Instead of resting on my collar, it curls beneath her chin as if to hug herself while she thinks.
“So Puk and Vervaine truly did plan this together. I imagine they used the same sleeping drops on you that they used on my fetes when they wouldn’t go along with their plan. ”
“How many of your people left with them?”
“Not many, thank Morgana. Only ten of them, plus Vervaine. I can hardly blame most of them, with the way the loss of magic was affecting them.” Her eyes shoot toward mine, dark with judgment. “Didn’t you know you had a disloyalty problem with your entire
House?”
Typical Titaine. One minute, she makes me want to forgive her. The next, I am back to being her enemy again.
There is no getting along with her.
“Should I bother to point out that there was fae trickery involved?”
“Fete,” she corrects me, her voice flat.
“I don’t have time to get into this argument right now,” I say before she can start it again. Fae and fetes are the same dragon-blasted word!
“I’ve accommodations to secure, and a very long journey to plan.”
“So you’re still going.” Her face brightens in a way no glamour could hide.
“What choice do I have? I’ve got to take back my House.”
I blurted it out before thinking—a troubling habit of mine—but the moment I say it, warmth fills my chest, because it’s true. The House of Elves is still mine by rights.
I am the only elf alive who can bring the dark elves and wood elves together.
It will not be easy to get to Nox by hoof and by foot—especially with so little coin left in my purse—but there are settlements of elves on the way that will help me.
I am still the only heir of the dark elves, and that affords me respect in most other lands, even if my position as a Houselord no longer does.
“Then it’s settled. I’m going with you.”
My eyes bulge. “You most certainly aren’t.”
“Yes, I am. We won’t risk bringing the other fetes with us—they must save their strength and protect this House until we can build new runeships to retrieve them.
I may be the only fete left who is strong enough to make the journey.
” She is in front of me again, her neck craning upward to lock eyes with me.
Her finger jabs into my stomach with each word as she grinds out, “You need me.”
For a moment, I simply gape at her. “You and I don’t work, in any way you can use that word. Remember?”
“Of course I remember.” Has she dropped her glamour? I swear I catch a twitch of a muscle in her jaw. “Traveling with me means you’ll be admitted to fae circles and minor Houses—a safe place to rest on the road, enchanted to keep bandits and predators out.”
“The elven settlements are just as protected.”
“Not with enchantments. Even the best watchmen can be overwhelmed. And
I have magic you’ll need along the way. My skill with it still holds. I dare to think it’ll hold all the way to the City of Nox.”
“I don’t need anything from you, Titaine.” Though my words are cold, I tip my head in acknowledgment. “I thank you for your help this morning, but I am absolutely never traveling with you ever again.”
“I have a way to get across the Bridge of Miracles safely,” she rebuts.
Surprise roots me in place. I hadn’t even thought
about the Bridge of Miracles yet. Now that there are no more runeships to be had, the narrow strip of land with its unpredictable tides will be more congested than ever.
It will be the only way for merchant caravans and travelers to get between this continent and the southern continent of Tethered Malu.
“How do you know your magic will hold?” I demand, crossing my arms. It has the added benefit of showing the well-earned muscles in my arms, reminding her I can make the journey without her. I have physical strength that the loss of magic will not alter. I think.
A half smile crosses Titaine’s lips. This time, she has not backed away from me. It almost seems as if she leans closer.
“I have my ways,” she murmurs. Her voice grows louder again, and the illusion of her closeness vanishes.
I shake my head out, unnerved by her fae tricks.
“Shall we head to the market, then?” she asks, as if I’ve already agreed. “We’ll need supplies for our journey. We can leave as soon as tomorrow morning.”
“I still need to see about tonight’s accommodations,” I grumble, looking away.
“You’ll stay here,” Titaine decides. “We must discuss an itinerary tonight. We can divide it fairly, alternating stops with the fetes and elves. As long as we make good time, we shouldn’t have to rely on human hospitality at all.”
It sounds like a command. And for once, I do not argue with the lady of the House of Fetes.
Even if I still
can’t believe I’m traveling all the way to Nox with her.