Bad Fae | romantasy | Bad Fae #1

Chapter Thirty

By the end of the next week, there were delegates from all the sidhe clans in Aena Dorei and Feyrith was clearly not impressed.

Our time was taken up hovering around Feyrith's throne room as though to assure those that had arrived that I wasn't up to anything naughty. Fire and frost fae stuck to their opposite ends of the room, eyeing each other off with as much wariness as they eyed me. Their leaders the only ones to show any signs of politeness and not just cautious civility.

Even Feyrith's children had taken to lounging around the room, knowing that was where any action would be. Twins. The unbearably cocky Amrynn and the unfailingly polite Saelihn.

Amrynn was the spitting image of his father; long white-blond hair and eyes the colour of the summer sky. Thanks to a sidhe's immortal youth, there was even very little discernible age difference. Amrynn's youth was rather shown in lesser decorum than his father. Not none, but just ever so less ability to hide his true feelings on his face, by speaking too quickly, or by not tempering the volatility of those sidhe emotions quite as well.

Saelihn, meanwhile, was all chestnut hair and green eyes. Her hair was shorter than most of those in Henmar, who favoured long and flowing. Rather, Saelihn's was cropped around her ears, giving her fine features even more distinction. Like all sidhe, she was beautiful. Unlike her brother, she was much more adept at hiding her true self. To the point I wasn't sure it even existed beyond the serene exterior she showed the world. She seemed almost a carbon copy of the expectations on my half-sisters in Aclad; a princess – a doll – not a person.

When the Vodreylian delegation arrived a couple of days later, I was to be introduced to their leader. Not surprising, considering I had basically just sworn featly to her king. I recognised her instantly as she strode into Feyrith's throne room, and every sidhe in there regardless of clan paid attention.

A simple silver circlet sat upon black curls that fell to the base of her spine. She wore a tight velvet dress made of deep silver from neck to wrist to floor. Her lips were dark red, the colour – unsurprisingly – of blood. It was this fae who had led the Vodreylians into Aclad under the pretence of peace talks.

Feyrith's lips curled when he saw her. "Alenia."

She inclined her head as far as decorum would force her. "High King Feyrith."

"Tell me, why is it that Ysildea and her clan arrived days before you? When the Burning Isles are so far away and Vodreylia is our closest neighbour."

To Alenia's credit, she didn't bat an eyelid at the accusatory tone. "Perhaps Vodreylia has more trust for our High King."

My eyes darted to Ysildea. I saw her jaw was tight and the flames in the depths of her eyes flickered wildly, but she very diplomatically said nothing.

"If Vodreylia has such trust in their High King, why are you here now?" Feyrith challenged Alenia.

Her eyes slid to Dain for a split second, before she gave the High King a tight, blood-red smile. "And miss out on the celebration? After all, if you require our newest kin too badly for her to come home to us, we must come to her."

Feyrith's lips tipped in a mockery of amusement. "Indeed. I am so pleased to be told that everyone has gathered in my halls for peace and unity, as opposed to curiosity concerning Thivrah's descendant. I am gratified to know that, as an immortal species, we seem able to rise above such petty gossip and political intrigue."

And that was exactly it, wasn't it? Seem. Every delegation had a different 'reason' for being here outside of concern about me. And, while none of those reasons were false, every single sidhe in that room knew the real reason was me.