Page 2 of Treasured By the Fae Royal
As I take off again, sticking to the edge of the road in case I need to make a quick retreat into the forest, I keep uttering silent prayers to any gods that might listen to please help my mother. She’d been so excited to see her sister after all these years, but by the time I’d carried her to the cottage after the encounter with the mangga, she was barely conscious.
What will I do if Mama doesn’t make it?
After a long visit with my aunt, Mama had planned for us to visit Sorsston solely for the purpose of finally finding me a husband. While her pronouncement had surprised me, I hadn’t argued. I trust her, and I know she would never pressure me to marry a man I didn’t fancy. I also know she would carefully vet any prospective husbands to make sure they aren’t anything like my late father.
My thoughts continue to roam as I break into a jog, clutching the straps of my pack so it doesn’t jostle too hard with my rapid steps.
Before Papa died, I’d wanted nothing more than to get married and start a family of my own, but that desire stemmed entirely from my longing to get away from him. He wasn’t a nice man; he was cruel and conniving and verbally abusive. I’d always hoped to find a kind, affectionate husband who wouldn’t just be willing to let Mama stay with us, but who would also be bold enough to challenge my father if he tried to take Mama back by force.
Yet Papa habitually refused every marriage offer that came my way, even from wealthy suitors, and I never got the chance to help Mama escape.
Looking back, I suppose he probably suspected my plans. That’s why he never allowed me to marry. Because he knew I would try to take Mama with me.
I would be lying if I claimed I missed him, though his brutal death had come as a shock. A few weeks after Trevos fell to the fae, he was discovered stabbed to death in an alley, likely the result of a business deal gone wrong.
As I slow to a brisk walk and reach for my canteen, I can’t help but wonder what my life might be like if I’d gotten married years ago like I’d wanted. Then my heart sinks when realization sets in. I would probably be a widow with several small children, like most of the young women my age from Trevos. Thousands of men, young and old, died trying to protect Trevos from the Summer Court army.
Perhaps it’s best that I’m still unmatched.
I take a quick drink of water, then shove the canteen inside a pocket on my bulging pack. I inhale a deep, fortifying breath as my appreciation for the splendor of the countryside grows. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t deny that I enjoy being on the open road. As a child, I used to dream about traveling the realm. But as I got older, I realized I likely wouldn’t leave Trevos beyond the occasional visit to Aunt Heather’s cottage on the outskirts of Sorsston.
When I round a sharp turn in the road, a massive snow-capped mountain range comes into sight. Whoa. I’ve never been so far away from home before, nor have I ever glimpsed mountains so tall.
The newness of it knocks the air from my chest, and I’m suddenly filled with a deep sense of awe.
It’s so beautiful, and I’m so very far away from the home I likely won’t ever return to. I feel like I’m shedding old parts of myself as I travel farther down the road. No matter what happens to Mama, my return to Trevos seems unlikely.
My legs ache as the road becomes steeper, and a quick glance over my shoulder shows just how far I’ve traveled. From this elevation, I’m provided with a clear view of the winding dirt road that disappears into the forest at the base of the mountain, as well as distant lakes and a few small homes that rest atop the rolling hills. It’s a sweeping expanse of green and blue, and gods, how it takes my breath away.
At this time of year, the forests usually aren’t so green and vibrant, but the fae’s magic recently started spreading from their courts and into the human lands. Ussha, the supposed lifeforce of their magic, has had a profound effect on the plant and animal life in the human lands. It causes fruits and vegetables to either glow or sparkle and grow out of season, and it makes the leaves on trees and shrubbery glimmer. It has also caused exotic animals once native to the fae lands to venture into human lands. Creatures like the mangga.
It's my understanding that the spread of ussha has also caused the fae themselves to leave their courts and create new settlements in both human and orc lands. Apparently, the fae are drawn to areas that contain high concentrations of ussha, which helps them sustain their magic.
The disagreements over land usage, however, has led to much fighting, and I can’t help but wonder how long it will be until the fae have conquered the very last human and orc territories. Will my people know peace again within my lifetime?
I focus on the road ahead, break into another jog, and pray Sorsston hasn’t yet fallen to the fae.
A large shadow suddenly passes overhead. My steps falter, and my stomach plummets to the ground. I glance upward.
Cold fear grips me. A winged fae male is soaring high above, and given his flight path, it would seem he’s circling in on me. He flies lower with each pass. My mouth goes dry, and I instinctively reach into my pocket and touch the sealed letter that guarantees my safe passage.
I peer into the forest and consider making a run for it, despite the letter. Winged fae are always highborn, and I can’t help but worry that this particular fae might somehow outrank Warden Valloc.
My gaze sweeps over the landscape as I almost hope to spot an army. If there’s an army, there will be witnesses. In my case, witnesses might be a blessing.
But I don’t spot an army. There’s no one. I’m out here on a mountain road in the middle of nowhere with a highborn fae circling me as though I’m his prey and he’s preparing to pluck me off the ground.
As he descends further, sunlight glints off his golden, near-translucent wings. His platinum blond hair is wild and long. It flows behind him like a violent waterfall as he dives straight for me.
Fucking fires, no.
In a panic, I bolt for the forest, but I only make it about a dozen paces.
The massive, highborn fae lands in front of me in a blast of warmth that leaves me in no doubt about which court he calls home. I gaze at him in utter astonishment, unable to form words.
Gods, he’s stunningly beautiful. I cannot look away.
He’s clad in form-fitting leather that accentuates his broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. His skin is sparkling gold just like his wings, and his eyes are piercing blue. His full, sensual lips are twisted in a smirk.
