you go to sleep.”
Kaye rolled onto her side and got up, carefully, wary of her own legs.
“I’m okay,” Kaye said. “I’m not asleep.”
Lutie alighted on Kaye’s head and began to nervously knot locks of hair.
“I’m perfectly okay,” Kaye repeated. With careful steps she approached the side of the dais where Lord Roiben, newly anointed King of the Unseelie Court, sat. She watched his fingers, each one encircled in a metal band, as they tapped the rhythms of an unfamiliar tune on the edge of his throne. He was clad in a stiff black fabric that swallowed him in shadow. As familiar as he should have been, she found herself unable to speak.
It was the worst kind of stupid to be pining after someone who cared for you. Still, it was like watching her mother onstage. Kaye felt proud, but was half afraid that if she went up, it wouldn’t turn out to be Roiben at all.
Lutie-loo abandoned her perch and flew to the throne. Roiben looked up, laughed, and cupped his hands to receive her.
“She drank all the mushroom wine,” Lutie accused, pointing to Kaye.
“Indeed?” Roiben raised one silver brow. “Will she come and sit beside me?”
“Sure,” Kaye said, levering herself up onto the dais, unaccountably shy. “How has it been?”
“Endless.” His long fingers threaded through her hair, making her shiver.
Only months ago she’d thought of herself as weird, but human. Now the weight of gauzy wings on her back and the green of her skin were enough to remind her that she wasn’t. But she was still just Kaye Fierch and no matter how magical or clever, it was hard to understand why she was allowed to sit beside a King.
Even if she had saved that King’s life. Even if he loved her.
She couldn’t help but recall the beetle-woman’s words. Did the dreadlocked girl with the drum intend to make a declaration? Ask for a quest? Had the girl with the cat tail already done so? Were the fey laughing at her, thinking that because she had grown up with humans, she was ignorant of faerie customs?
She wanted to make things right. She wanted to make a grand gesture. Give him something finer than a ragged bracelet. Swaying forward, Kaye went down on both her knees in front of the new King of the Unseelie Court.
Roiben’s eyes widened with something like panic and he opened his mouth to speak, but she was faster.
“I, Kaye Fierch, do declare myself to you. I…” Kaye froze, realizing she didn’t know what she was supposed to say, but the heady liquor in her veins spurred her tongue on. “I love you. I want you to give me a quest. I want to prove that I love you.”
Roiben gripped the arm of his throne, fingers tightening on the wood. His voice sank to a whisper. “To allow this, I would have to have a heart of stone. You will not become a subject of this court.”
She knew that something was wrong, but she didn’t know what. Shaking her head, she stumbled on. “I want to make a declaration. I don’t know the formal words, but that’s what I want.”
“No,” he said. “I will not allow it.”
There was a moment’s hush around her and then some scattered laughter and whispering.
“I have recorded it. It has been spoken,” said Ruddles. “You must not dishonor her request.”
Roiben nodded. He stared off into the brugh for a long moment, then stood and walked to the edge of the platform. “Kaye Fierch, this is the quest that I grant. Bring me a faery that can tell an untruth and you shall sit beside me as my consort.”
Shrieking laughter rose from the throng. She heard the words: Impossible. An impossible quest.
Her face heated, and suddenly she felt worse than dizzy. She felt sick. She must have gone white or her expression must have turned alarming, because Roiben jumped off the platform and caught her arm as she fell.
Voices were all around her but none of them made sense.
“I promise that if I find who put this idea in your head, they will pay for it with their own.”
Her eyes
Janwillem van de Wetering