Fae's Defiance (Queens of the Fae Book 2) Read online

  How did he know?

  As if sensing her question, he smiled, revealing a wide gap between his two front teeth. “We recognize strangers here.”

  “Oh.” She held out two coins, and his eyes widened.

  “Do you even know how much money that is?”

  She shook her head.

  “Enough for this here whole cart of Eldur beans and then some. It’s only two coppers per bag, but I’mma give you one for free.” He smiled again, satisfied with himself. “Anyone who defies Regan of Gelsi is a friend of Ollie’s.” Ollie must be him.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Sure I do, miss—”

  “Brea.”

  He nodded as he reached for a canvas sack and scooped Eldur beans into it. “All right, Brea. Though, with you living at the palace, I dunno what you want with Eldur beans.” He handed her the bag.

  “Thank you, Ollie.”

  His grin widened. “Hey, Lew,” he called, looking toward one of the other carts. “A richie knows my name.”

  She really had to get some new clothes so everyone would stop calling her that. Her parents in Ohio had never been well-off. Compared to Myles’ family, they were poor, and they dressed like it. Eyes followed her as she escaped from the market as fast as she could, uncomfortable with the attention.

  If Lochlan were there, he’d bull his way through the crowd, leaving ample space for her in his wake. Finn would probably grab her elbow and make sure she was okay.

  But they weren’t there, leaving her alone once more.

  Keeping a tight grip of the Eldur beans that would keep her sane in this place, she left the market behind, ducking into a familiar building on her right. Once inside the quiet bookstore, she released a breath and leaned against the door.

  “Brea, that you, dear?”

  “Fiona.” Brea sighed in relief as she caught sight of the silver-haired woman walking toward her. She’d met the older woman at the palace when Fiona was tidying the library. The queen hired her to rotate the books and keep the selection fresh—with the exception of the human books. Those always stayed.

  “Are you okay?” Concern etched into her every feature. “You look stressed.”

  She pushed away from the door. “I wonder why.”

  Fiona was one of the few people in the city who knew everything—well, almost everything. She didn’t know Brea was the real daughter of Faolan.

  “Still no word?” She set the book she was carrying on the front counter.

  Brea shook her head. “Not so much as a messenger.” She followed Fiona farther into the two-story store. At the back, a spiral staircase led to the upper stacks, a section Fiona called her human stories. Brea laughed the first time she found all the leather-bound tomes depicting stories about the human world.

  She’d told Fiona the humans wrote about fae worlds as well, and they’d both had a good laugh at that. The first laughter Brea felt since learning the truth about her identity.

  She was a changeling. Abandoned by her mother to be raised in the human realm where the things she saw and did because of her fae heritage made her an outcast, deemed a lunatic.

  She still hadn’t forgiven her mother for that.

  And what about Alona? She grew up thinking she was one of the unfortunate fae born without powers, someone destined to join the serving class.

  It wasn’t fair to either of them.

  “I know what you need, dear.” Fiona led her up the back staircase. “I found a book I think you will enjoy greatly. It is meant for children, but…” She ran a finger over the spines until she came to a book of stories called Humantales. Just like the humans called them fairytales.

  A smile spread Brea’s lips as she flipped open the cover and thumbed through pages about princesses and kings that were obviously influenced by real human history.

  Fiona put a hand on her shoulder. “Only a few fae clans have ever had the ability to open portals into the human realm, but over the centuries, many stories have filtered out and spawned fables of a world without magic.”

  “Why would anyone want stories about a world that didn’t have magic?” She stopped on a page depicting Henry VIII as a benevolent king. It was a love story. She snorted. What would these people say if they knew the real history?

  Fiona smiled softly. “We always want to imagine a world different than our own. Magic is not the great force some claim. It destroys just as much as it saves. Sometimes, I wonder if our world wouldn’t be so broken without it.”

  “The human realm is broken too, Fiona. You don’t need magic for that.”

  Fiona sighed. “The human world has wars and strife, yes, but magic has erased entire kingdoms from the fae world.”

  “What?” She snapped the book shut. “There was a fourth kingdom?”

  “It serves only as a prison now.” Sadness tinged her eyes. “Magic can sometimes be like dropping a nuclear bomb into a situation that calls for the delicate carving of a knife.”

  “Wait… how do you know about nukes?” Brea wracked her brain for anything that made sense. As far as she knew, the fae didn’t have that technology. They didn’t need it with their magic.

  Fiona tapped her nose. “Follow me.”

  They walked down the stairs and crossed the store to the front counter. Fiona rounded it and reached into a compartment below, pulling free a book. She set it on the counter, and Brea’s eyes widened.

  “Where on earth did you get a US history book?” She ran a hand over the cover that showed a map of the country she’d called home most of her life.

  “The palace library.”

  “You took one of Lochlan’s books?” A smile slid across her face.

  Fiona flipped through the pages. “He lets me borrow them as long as the queen doesn’t find out. She only allows him to bring them back from the human realm if he agrees to keep them close. She does not want human books leaving her walls.”

  Brea understood immediately. If the people of Eldur read human books, they might make the connection to her. No one could know Lochlan travelled to the human realm.

  “Fiona?”

  “Yes?” She glanced up, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.

  “You said only some families can create portals. How many are there now?”

  “Well, that we know of in the last few decades… two. The Rifkin Clan is the nearest to the prison realm, though, so if travelers wish to pay them for passage, they must traverse those haunted lands. The Eldur courts do not recognize their noble status.”

  “And the other?” She already knew the answer.

  “The O’Sheas.” She smiled. “There was a time when they ruled Iskalt that the queen and king were great friends of ours. Eldur and Iskalt had an unbreakable bond.”

  She swallowed, barely able to breathe. “What happened to them?” She knew Griffin and Loch’s parents died when they were boys. How old had Griff said he was? Two?

  Fiona put the book away, a sad set to her shoulders. “They came to visit Queen Faolan. It was a grand visit with balls and banquets. When they left, the future looked so bright. I remember it as if it were yesterday. The rumor was they had a mission for Queen Faolan, but the queen and king of Iskalt never made it home.”

  “They died?” she whispered.

  Fiona nodded. “Their bodies were found near the border of Fargelsi. Within months, the king’s brother took the throne and sent Lochlan and Griff to be raised in foreign courts. Most people think it was a show of good faith to keep Eldur from attacking to reclaim the throne for Lochlan. But when her greatest friends died, our queen seemed to have lost her taste for war.”

  Tears hung in Brea’s lashes. “I need to go.”

  Fiona called a goodbye, but Brea barely heard her as she rushed out in the blazing Eldur heat.

  Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she kept going, barely registering that she’d left the Eldur beans behind. She clutched the humantale book under her arm and rushed through the busy streets, wishing she wa
sn’t so far from the palace.

  All she wanted to do was collapse onto her bed and hide in her room. Because she now knew without a doubt that Lochlan’s parents were dead because of her.

  2

  Brea

  “Lady Brea, rushing back to the palace already? It’s hardly mid-day.”

  Brea paused at the sound of her name, blinking at the exotic woman dressed in free-flowing silks outside the magic shop. That’s what Brea called it anyway.

  “Mrs. Moran. I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back early.”

  “Come by later today. I have some new herbs to show you. They arrived today from the fire plains. I can teach you all about their mystical properties.”

  For a moment, Brea was tempted to join her. She was fascinated with Mrs. Moran’s apothecary shop. Everything she stocked held magic of one kind or another. It wasn’t the kind of magic she was supposed to be learning, but it was definitely more interesting considering Brea hadn’t felt her magic in weeks. Something had her blocked, and she wasn’t sure how to move past it. No one seemed too concerned about it so she went along with it.

  “I’ll try,” Brea called over her shoulder.

  “Go have a nap, dear, you look a bit peaky. And have a cup of that tea I gave you yesterday. It will help you rest.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Moran.” Brea picked up her pace. Some of her favorite shops were closer to the palace, but they knew her as Lady Brea there. She much preferred the anonymity she had at the marketplace across the river in the lower city. It was like a different world down there. The merchants in this part of the city catered to the nobility and wouldn’t dream of calling her or anyone else a ‘richie’, at least not to her face.

  By the time Brea reached the bridge entrance to the palace, sweat poured down her back, and she was anxious for a cool, quiet afternoon in her grotto. She might actually take that nap if her mind would quit running in an endless loop of worry and regret.

  Shouts and commotion interrupted her thoughts. Sneaking into the courtyard wasn’t going to work this time. Both queens and half the palace swarmed the entrance, shouting and issuing orders. Soldiers and horses stood by while a distinguished looking man gave a report to the queen.

  “Brea, darling.” Tierney spotted her before she could creep up the stairs. “There you are.”

  “I was just exploring some of the shops.” She inched closer to the woman who called herself one of her mothers. “Have you had news of Alona?” Brea eyed the distraught Queen Faolan, still unable to fathom her as the woman who gave birth to her. Both queens were wonderful people, but with Alona’s disappearance and now no news from Lochlan and Finn, they were distracted. Most of Brea’s interactions with her mothers were awkward in the extreme, none of them knowing quite how to act around each other. Brea tended to avoid them.

  “We’ve had a disturbing report.” Tierney put her arm around Brea. She was the more touchy-feely mom. “One of our scouts found the remnants of a battle. All of Lochlan’s men were slaughtered.”

  Brea took in a sharp breath. “Loch and Finn too?” It surprised her how much it hurt to ask the question. Lochlan was a self-righteous pain in her butt and Finn was more of a stranger than a true friend—not like Myles had been. But that they both might be dead had her feeling all sorts of terror she hadn’t expected. Like she couldn’t possibly face this life in the fae realm without them.

  “No, thank the heavens. There was no trace of them, so we must move forward hoping they made it to safety.”

  “But?” Brea braced for the bad news.

  “It’s been more than a week since the battle. Lochlan would have sent for help if he was able.”

  “So, they might not have made it?” She couldn’t imagine Lochlan in any situation where he didn’t come out on top.

  “We can only hope news of their whereabouts will reach us soon.” Tierney’s eyes followed her wife’s movements as Faolan issued orders. “But it is possible they’ve been taken back to Iskalt.”

  “His uncle will kill him.” Brea’s hand went to her throat.

  “It’s not likely Callum O’Shea would kill one of the last of his clan.” Tierney squeezed her shoulder. “The O’Sheas have remarkable magic that is too precious to snuff out over something as petty as a throne.”

  Brea didn’t think Callum O’Shea would agree with the Eldur Queen Consort.

  “He is like a son to Faolan. To us both, really. He grew up right here with Alona.”

  “Lochlan is tough and resourceful. He can take care of himself and Finn.” But Brea worried about Finn. If they got separated or were injured, would either of them have enough sense to come back home, or would they be stubborn and pigheaded and insist on looking for each other?

  “Brea.” Faolan gave her a curt nod as she approached. “Good. You’re home. Do try to stay close to the palace, darling. We don’t want to lose you too.” Her words were kind and motherly, but she was utterly absent, just saying the things she thought she needed to say.

  Awkward silence hung between them, and Brea just wanted to escape.

  “Er—how will you look for them?” she asked.

  “We’ve sent several scouts to scour the area surrounding the battle scene.” Faolan stood, wringing her hands, refusing to look at Brea. She did that a lot. And sometimes when she did meet Brea’s eyes, she could see the disappointment there. Disappointment that she wasn’t Alona. “All we can do now is wait and hope they haven’t fallen into Callum’s hands.”

  “Please let me know as soon as you hear any news.” Brea stepped away from the queens, feeling the awkward much more than usual. “I’m just going back to my room now.”

  “We will see you at dinner.” Tierney turned and led her wife back to the throne room.

  Brea sighed as she retreated to her room. A warm breeze swept through the open hallway, and parrots chattered in the gardens. The Eldurian palace was so beautiful. She could get used to calling it home—if there was something here to hold onto. More than just pretty rooms, exotic gardens, and strangers for mothers.

  But the one thing Brea would never get used to was how boring the life of a noblewoman was. In the human world, she had school to fill her days, therapy appointments, time with Myles, and Netflix. There was always something to do. In the magical realm of the fae, her days were filled with aimless wandering and endless, uncomfortable dinners with her mothers.

  If that was the life of a princess, Brea didn’t want any part of it.

  “Brea?” Rowena called from her closet. “Is that you?”

  “Yes.” Brea sighed, closing the door behind her. She supposed it was too much to ask for an afternoon to herself. Rowena was a kind servant, but she wasn’t Neeve.

  “I was just seeing to some new dresses Queen Tierney ordered for you. There’s a lovely new day dress that will match your eyes.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve managed to find me some comfortable pants and shirts?”

  “A Lady doesn’t need street clothes.” Rowena harrumphed as she fluffed a pillow to within an inch of its life.

  “Good thing I’m not a lady.” Brea collapsed on the couch in her sitting room.

  “As long as you live in this palace you will dress and act like a lady.”

  “Maybe I should look for my own place.” Brea got a kick out of riling up her maid.

  “Lady Brea, your mo—the queen would not allow it.” Rowena’s cheeks flushed pink.

  “What do you know?” Brea turned accusing eyes on the maid. No one other than the queens themselves and Lochlan—who might be dead—knew Brea was their true daughter.

  “I know that this room is a mess.” Rowena made to dust the spotless dresser.

  “Spill it, Ro.” Brea crossed the room.

  “I was there.” Rowena refused to meet her eyes.

  “Where.”

  “The day you were born.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Twas a happy day. For a time. Until the queen asked me to bring you to the Iskalt king.” Rowena’s bottom lip
quivered.

  “You switched us?” Brea sank down on the nearest chair.

  “At the queen’s order. Though I never understood why, I did as she asked. And I loved our dear Alona. Such a sweet child. And a good head on her shoulders, that one.” Rowena polished the brass dresser knobs to a shine. “Always thought she and Lochlan would make a go of it one day. Knew he would raise her up from the serving class to be a proper lady if she couldn’t be our princess.” She dabbed at her eyes.

  “And now here you are, come home to us at last. Just as ornery and full of mischief as Alona—in your own way. You could have been sisters, as alike as you are different.”

  “You were her lady’s maid?”

  “Of course. And I wouldn’t hear of it, letting another care for you.”

  “Thank you.” Brea pulled the fussy woman into a hug.

  “For what, my Lady?” Rowena returned her hug with gusto, her arms a motherly embrace Brea had never known.

  “For caring whether I’m here or not.” Brea rested her head on Rowena’s shoulder for a moment.

  “Oh, sweet dearie.” Rowena patted her back. “You listen to Rowena now.” She held Brea at arm’s length. “Your mothers rearranged the heavens to keep you and Alona safe. Give them some time. It can’t be easy to gain one daughter only to lose the other. You’re strangers now, but you won’t always be. One day all four of you will be a family. And a strong one at that.”

  “We can hope.” Brea forced a smile for the loyal servant.

  “Go rest, my Lady.” She swatted Brea with her dusting rag. “It’s the hottest part of the day. No sense in trying to get anything done till it cools this evening.”

  Brea snorted. “Not that I have anything to do but stare at the walls anyway.” She shed her lightweight overgown and retreated to the grotto for an afternoon nap. With nothing else to do, sleep was the only activity she looked forward to these days.

  “Up with you, Lady Brea.” Rowena pulled the blankets off the bed. “And don’t give me any of your tantrums either.”

  Brea rolled over, clutching her pillow. “I don’t throw tantrums,” she muttered. “I simply protest the morning.”