Page 21 of Wicked Things

I didn't know much about this religion of the Faeries, but I could see it was expected of me to kiss it too, so I leaned forward to lightly brush my lips over it. But the second I touched it with my lips I felt a sizzling burn that startled me so badly I pulled sharply away. There was an audible hiss from the cross and both the priest and the king noticed it. The priest looked shocked.

Fionn pulled me closer to him and sternly told him, “Never mind. Keep going.”

He nodded, looking uneasy, and said a few more words that didn’t even register on me. I was far too mortified and shocked myself, and my lips were still burning, like I’d tried to press my mouth too close to hot iron. I touched them to make sure there were no blisters.

What was that? Had the priest put some kind of acid on the metal? But why would he do such a thing? And King Fionn hadn’t been affected by it. He pulled me around to face the crowded hall, and from behind me, the priest placed something on my head, and I could feel it slide down over my forehead. I thought it must be a crown. I reached up to touch it wonderingly.

The people in front of us cheered as Fionn held our still-bound hands up in the air between us for all to see. He leaned over and whispered something so softly in my ear that I had to strain to hear him. I didn’t understand him anyway, because I suddenly realized he had spoken to me in his own impossible language. But I thought he was trying to soothe and calm me.

He turned to the crowded hall and said, “I present to you Braden, the atheling son of King Callum of Gorias—and my newly crowned Royal Consort.”

(Aside—dear reader, as I mentioned before, the terms prince and princess were not in use at that time, so long ago. The old English term atheling was used for any man who was eligible for the kingship. It roughly translated to throne-worthy, which wasn’t strictly accurate for me, but I went with it anyway. There was no word at all for Princess as women were not considered to be any such thing as throne-worthy at the time. A cultural error that was widely in practice at the time all over northern Europe.)

I felt dizzy for a moment, until he squeezed my hand again, the heavy gold ring cutting into my palm a little. It was typical of how I’d felt since I’d been in this realm—pain mixed with joy and wonder.

“Be strong and remember who you are,” he said, speaking softly in my ear. “Hold your head high, a chroi. After all, we’ve just begun.”

We walked out past the guests, stopping every few feet as hands reached out to touch us, and the people all called out happy greetings to us. Though they seemed fascinated by me, they were about interacting with the king, and I could see how popular and well-thought of he was by his subjects.

That he was ambitious and reveled in his position and his power, I had no doubt, though even then I suspected that all kings were much the same. Fionn led me to a feasting hall, already half filled with people. The overflow from the hall soon filled up the remaining seats, and we took our places at the head table. The servants began to bring out masses of food and drink, and I was almost too excited to eat. It was a day I’d look back on in the days to come and take comfort in. It was, up until that time, the most exciting day of my life.

Chapter Eight

Lord Fionn

It was a few days later that I slept late and awoke to bright sunshine streaming in the windows. I turned over to stare at Braden’s bright head on the pillow beside me and felt a by-now familiar rush of something like tenderness toward him. I shook it off quickly, telling myself I was being much too sentimental over this halfling boy. If indeed, that was what he was.

The cross had burned his lips when he’d tried to kiss it at our wedding. That was concerning, not to mention memorable, to say the least, as it pointed toward the idea that he had demonic blood or witch blood inside him. I wondered how that was possible and I was determined to find out for sure from Callum. He must have known what kind of creature his beautiful woman was. She had probably contributed Braden’s mostly mortal blood, and Callum had certainly given him his Faery blood—unless she had witch blood. But if not, where had the rest of it come from? Was he, as I suspected, part demon? I only thought so because of his extraordinary beauty. Even his half Faery blood wouldn’t fully account for that, and certainly not any kind of witch blood. That kind tended in the opposite direction, if anything. And if demonic, then what kind of demon? Exactly how worried did I need to be?

The fact that Braden had been more or less a virgin had surprised me too, as he was so fond of saying how “grown up” he was. But then he was fond of talking nonsense about a lot of things, and it was hard to shut him up once he started. It was a habit I probably needed to break him of, instead of indulging him in it. Sometimes though, I liked to listen to him prattling on and on, and I even rather enjoyed it. I enjoyed almost everything about him.

I went to my own room through our adjoining door and rang for my servants to bring breakfast. I had meetings lined up for the afternoon with my advisors, and I wanted to get a few things done in my office before then. I’d be cutting it close now as it was, and I couldn’t let this beautiful boy distract me. We needed to be on our way to see King Callum before he died, but I had pressing matters to attend to first. I hoped Callum would hold on a few days longer.

As I ate, I read over some treasury reports, sipping some nectar wine and eating a little goblin fruit and brown-speckled willet eggs on toast. My valet came in to lay out my clothes for the day, a white shirt with long sleeves and ruffled cuffs, tied at the wrists, along with a gold patterned brocade tunic, black trousers and polished leather boots. I was in the process of finishing the last bites of my meal when one of my guards came in and bowed deeply to me.

“Yes?” I asked as he stood looking around the room. Was he searching for my new consort, hoping for a glimpse of him? I’d anticipated this kind of thing but hadn’t realized how much it would annoy me. Maybe I should require the boy to wear a veil, though he’d no doubt kick up a fuss about that. I was still keeping it as an option though.

“Well? What do you need?”

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace, for interrupting your meal,” he said, bowing low. “But your mother is outside in the hallway, insisting on having a few words with you.”

I sighed and moaned a little under my breath. Then I put down my fork and picked up my wine glass, taking a long, stiff drink. “Send her in.”

The Shadow Queen Orlaith came in, looking regal for so early in the morning. She waited for me to rise and hold out a hand to her. She took it and offered her cheek for me to kiss before inviting herself to sit down at the table across from me.

“I need to speak to you, Fionn, and I need you to listen to me.”

“I always listen to you, Mother.”

“Yes, and then you do exactly as you please.”

I smiled, because what was there to say to that? It was very true.

“The servants told me you’ve been spending your nights—the entire night—with that boy.”

“Are you referring to Braden? My consort?”

“You know I am.”