The Summer Solstice

Chapter 3: Rue

🦋  Rue  🦋   

It's a bad habit, but I tug at the pointy tips of my ears while reading for tomorrow's lessons. The nerves still feel raw and sensitive even though there's no pain. 

If I were to lift my silk nightgown, two large, identical scars on my thighs would appear. I used to hate them, but during my time at the Isle I've grown to adore them. It's the only way to blend in with the Faie at first sight; without their curved, elongated ears, I'd be spotted in an instant.

So the same Hob who'd taken me from my mortal home took flesh from my thighs and refashioned them for ears. He also, at my parents' request, concocted a daily tonic that slowly sharpens my senses. I take it every morning before breakfast, as I have for seventeen years now, but it's never enough. A newborn Faie can hear the beat of a butterfly's wing long before I can.

The words on the pages in front of me grow dull. I read the same sentence four times over before finally slamming the book shut. My mind is still buzzing from the East High Council meeting and the news of the pooka.

I can't help but sympathize with Lord Grendel despite his antics. While goblins are still creatures of divine descent, they, like the Dryads, Merrows, and Gnomes, live separate from the rest of the Faie. Unfortunate for the goblins, however, is where they make their home: the hills and mountains of the Isle, which the pooka enjoy terrorizing most. The fog and shadows of such terrain entices the pooka, who work in darkness. They wait for nightfall to feed off, prey on, and steal from other Faie—particularly the goblins.

At dinner earlier, father informed Kale, Kieren, and mother of the additional Gentry knights to be posted on the goblins' land. I couldn't help but feel special to have already known. I also couldn't help but notice the lack of interest Kieren seemed to take in the matter.

As tradition permits, the eldest child of the respective East and West Sovereigns is appointed to be the new King or Queen. And while father appreciates traditions, I can not see how he envisions Kieren to rule.

A knock on the door stirs me. I'm agitated as I get up—both at the disruption of my thoughts as well as my thoughts themselves. If I keep mulling over Kieren's likely kingship, I'll never find the time to study for lessons tomorrow.

My bare feet hit the cold stone of the floor. Between that and my thin nightgown, chill bumps rise along my arms. I stride across the room, dodging clothes and notebooks on the ground while wondering who on the Isle needs to speak with me at this hour.

I open the door and become immediately aware of just how thin my nightclothes are. Calum, my assigned guard, bows stiffly in front of me.

"Princess Rue, my apologizes. Queen Nardiello asked that I remind you that Kale will join you on your morning lesson tomorrow. She believes he needs all the archery practice available to him."

Despite the many occasions Calum and I have interacted, this time it feels strange. His face is devoid of emotion, as always, but he stands too far away from me, as if he's scared. I study him briefly—black hair straight, slick, and short. His green eyes are more dull than normal and his jaw is tensed. Observation is one skill that no Faie could easily best me in.

"You've heard then?" I guess. "About the pooka attacks?"

There's the briefest frown to his lips. "Many of the Gentry have been given new assignments, yes."

Not a clear answer, as usual. Calum is better at that than most Faie. It's infuriating, but I also admire him for it. He dances around a response so effortlessly that I can't think of a time he's ever been straightforward with me.