Queen of Fire Page 5

  I touched my head. The contrast of the elegant dress and my ratty ponytail with more wisps than there should be framing my face was embarrassing.

  “What about hair and make-up?”

  He came up behind me and pulled out my ponytail holder. My blonde fell against my shoulders. He ran his fingers through it, smoothing out the snarls. The slight tug on my hair had my stomach clenching.

  Yeah, I liked a little hair pulling in bed.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I still look frumpy.”

  Before he could respond, the bedroom door opened. My brother stood in the doorway with a sheepish smile on his fast.

  He was dressed to the nines, and his hair looked good.

  “Wow, sis. You do clean up well.”

  I gestured to my facial area. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. I still look like a troll from the neck up.”

  He chuckled and held out his arm. “It’s time to go. They’re waiting.”

  I gulped. As happy as I was to see my brother, I wished he’d been a little bit later. Or a lot later.

  “Be the predator and not the prey,” Eoin whispered behind me. “Don’t look intimidated or nervous. Embrace your entitlement, superiority complex, and prejudice and show them you’re not to be fucked with.”

  I frowned. “I’m not entitled or have a superiority complex. I’m definitely not prejudiced.”

  “Your attitude with Innis tells me differently.”

  “He’s an asshole and brings out the worst in me.”

  He leaned closer to my ear, his warm breath on my neck. “Your attitude with me suggests the problem lies with you.”

  I walked over to my brother but gave a quick glance over my shoulder at him and smirked. “Maybe you’re an asshole, too.”

  My brother laughed. Eoin did not. He didn’t look insulted per se, or even angry, just exasperated.

  “She’s going to be the death of you,” my brother said to Eoin, amusement in his voice.

  Eoin sighed and looked at his feet. “No, my king. She’s going to be the death of you.”

  Chapter Seven

  It didn’t take long to walk back through the castle and into a room I hadn’t been in before. On the outside the castle had seemed huge, but it felt far more cramped inside.

  Liam didn’t ask if I was ready before leading me through the open double doors. Two guards stood stoic and stationary on either side. Neither looked at me or acknowledged my brother.

  My stomach clenched when I saw the people waiting for us inside. There had to be at least one hundred milling about in the room, long stem glasses in their hands full of an electric blue substance. Even from a distance it looked thick like slime. I hoped they had something more to my taste.

  Like Russian vodka.

  I wasn’t an alcoholic or anything, just avoidant.

  There was a dais ahead with a gigantic throne in the middle. It rivaled the size of the throne from Game of Thrones, only this one didn’t look like it would skewer you.

  I avoided looking at the people around me, keeping my gaze straight ahead and lifting my chin. They had stopped and remained motionless, gaping at the new stranger among them. There hadn’t been a friendly face in the bunch, and even though I wanted to find Aidan among them, I couldn’t handle the disdain and judgment in the eyes of the nobles.

  I didn’t belong, and they had no trouble letting me know it.

  A part of me didn’t care what they thought. I wasn’t here for them. But another part, admittedly a bigger part, wanted to feel welcomed home. It stung like a bitch that I wasn’t.

  After reaching the dais, we stepped up as one onto the platform. Liam faced his audience with a beaming grin. He wasn’t wearing a crown or anything, but there was something about his presence, something larger than life, that made him stand out. I was in awe of his confidence and wished I could siphon a bit off.

  I’d never liked crowds, especially when they were all looking at me.

  And make no mistake. Every eye in the room was firmly focused on me and not their king. My brother continued talking, ignoring the fact that no one was listening.

  I wasn’t even listening. His words, while I could hear them, didn’t register as intelligible. I swallowed sharply and forced myself to scan the group of Fae in front of me.

  I didn’t see Aidan, and considering he was a great deal taller than many of them, he should have stood above the rest.

  Was he not here? Had he abandoned me completely? Was he not invited in the first place?

  I didn’t know anything about him, at least not about his life here. Did he have family? Friends? A lover? Kids?

  I’d been entrusted in his care by my brother, so he must have had some power or influence. I needed to interrogate him later and find out what else he’d been keeping from me. How much was his human persona a lie?

  But first, I had to survive this.

  Liam finally finished his speech with an exaggerated flourish. My cheeks blazed. I probably looked ridiculous, like a meek child, hiding behind her brother’s skirts—er pants.

  There was no clapping or cheering. Just harsh whispers between themselves.

  I looked over at Liam. His expression hadn’t changed from the confident and eager look it had before. Did he not notice what was happening? How people were reacting?

  These people wouldn’t respect me unless I earned it. I raised my chin again and forced myself to meet the eyes of the strangers in front of me. My gaze fell on Innis.

  Gone were the cargo pants and tight t-shirt. They were replaced with a dark blue button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, and hem tucked into skin-hugging white slacks. He kept adjusting the waistband, clearly uncomfortable in the more formal attire, though it stretched the meaning of formal.

  Compared to the dress of those around him, he looked like a scrub. His hair was still combed back, the black ends curling behind his ears.

  The finishing touch was a deep scowl on his face.

  On his right was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her clothing was barely fancier than his, but she carried herself with a grace that transcended an outfit. Her black curls, a perfect match to the male at her side, fell to her chin, framing a heart shaped face.

  There was a neutral look on her face and every once in a while she’d bite the lower lip of her pale pink lips.

  Eoin hurried to the dais from the back of the room, a grim expression on his face. My heart rate increased, and I got a bad feeling in my gut. He rushed past me to my brother. He whispered something in Liam’s ear I couldn’t hear and the merriment on his face dropped, replaced with anger and fear.

  What could Eoin have said to make Liam angry and fearful?

  Liam walked over and put his hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Morgan, but I have to go. Mingle. Get to know people. Show them who you are.”

  I looked at him, doubtful. “I’d rather go with you.”

  He kissed my forehead, reinforcing my image as a vulnerable child, before leaving with Eoin—leaving me alone with vultures.

  As soon as my brother was out of the room, they attacked. Like a pack of raptors surrounding their prey, they circled me on all sides. If I wanted to escape, it would have to be through someone.

  I felt sick.

  Then the questions began, and I felt sicker.

  “What happened to your mother?”

  “Why did she take you?”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Why are you here?”

  Those were just the mild ones.

  I stumbled over my words, unsure how to respond or even if I should. I hadn’t answered one question before four more were lobbed at me. Some of the nobles stepped closer and claustrophobia kicked in.

  I searched the unfamiliar faces, looking for a hero to rescue me from the awkward interrogation. No one stepped up. I needed to help myself.

  I held up my hand like I’d seen politicians do when they no longer wanted to address the press.
“That’s enough. I will not stand here and be bombarded with questions. It’s rude and ineffective. How can I answer any when you don’t give me a chance to?”

  One of the noble women sniffed, indignant. “Rude? What is rude is an ignorant changeling acting as if she has the right to speak to those who are her betters.”

  “What the hell lady?” I blurted out. “Betters? Really? How are you better than me?”

  She gave me a condescending smile. “Know your place, changeling. You may be the king’s sister, but in this room, in this place, you are less than even the least of us.”

  Her tone was aggravating, but curiosity kept me from making a biting retort. “What’s a changeling?”

  Another woman stepped between two of the surrounding fae. It was the beauty I’d seen with Innis.

  “A changeling is a Fae child raised in the mortal realm. It’s a rare phenomenon now but still happens on occasion.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything more to say.

  She smiled at me kindly. “Do not listen to Bryna. You belong here with your family. It is of no fault of your own that you were taken and kept ignorant.”

  Bryna scoffed. “She should have remained ignorant. Bringing in those people”—she said people with so much loathing I knew it was personal—“is dangerous. Making her a princess, regardless of her blood, is an insult.”

  “Tatiana’s tits, Bryna,” Innis said, coming to stand beside the nice woman. “We are all drowning in your bitterness.”

  Bryna narrowed her eyes. “You are out of line. How dare you speak to me as if I were a commoner. You wouldn’t dare do so if I were queen.”

  Innis laughed scornfully. “Lucky for everyone that isn’t going to happen. I can’t imagine having to listen to your shit for the next hundred years.”

  No one came to Bryna’s defense. Seemed like she didn’t have many friends. With a personality like that, I wasn’t surprised.

  Innis turned his icy gaze to me. “She is right about one thing. You need a lesson on how to speak to others. A little humility goes a long way.”

  There was the Innis I’d come to hate.

  “Listen, asshole, you aren’t better than me. You aren’t better than the humans on Earth. You aren’t better than anyone. You need to learn a little humility before someone makes you eat your words.”

  There were a few gasps from the captive audience.

  His eyes narrowed and like before, tiny icicles grew from his fingers. “Make me eat my words? Who? You? I’d like to see you try.”

  My bravado fled. Physically I was no match for him. Add in magic, and I was doomed. But retreating would expose my belly, and they wouldn’t hesitate to devour me alive.

  “Prove it,” I said, unable to think of another idea. “Prove you are better than me.”

  “I don’t have anything to prove.”

  I shrugged. “Sounds like something a coward would say.”

  Faster than I could react, five pointed icicles were lobbed at me. Before they could make contact with my squishy flesh, transparent ice appeared around my head. The icicles pinged against the protection and fell impotently to the ground.

  “Back down, brother. I will not have you kill my future sister on the eve of my wedding,” the beauty who had spoken up for me before said.

  Sister? Wedding? The puzzle pieces clicked together. On the bright side, at least my brother’s wife to be wasn’t a jerk.

  Innis looked properly cowed. “I wasn’t going to kill her. Wasn’t even going to harm her. Was just teaching her a lesson.”

  “Was the lesson I have a temper, so be careful what you say because I can’t control myself?”

  “No, it was be careful what you say before you get ice in your face.”

  I laughed. The absurdity of his words mixed with the very real danger I’d been in—was still in—was morbidly hilarious.

  He glared. “This isn’t funny.”

  I laughed harder. It just served to piss him off more. “It kind of is.”

  His sister joined in. “She’s right. It is.”

  He sighed, loudly, but didn’t reprimand her. He continued to glare at me with his arms crossed. “All right everyone. Time to mind your own business.”

  There were grumbles all around, but they listened to his command. Curious. It seemed he had some sort of power here.

  Which didn’t bode well for me.

  When the crowd had dispersed, his sister held out her hand to me. “I’m Niamh. I’ve been eager to meet you.”

  Her smile appeared kind, but there was tension in her mouth ruining the illusion. She wasn’t above whatever politics were happening here, and she had no more problem using me to her advantage than anyone else in the room.

  Except maybe Innis. He was terrible at hiding his emotions. And his disdain.

  I grasped her hand—I didn’t want to be rude—and put a little pressure into it. A reminder I wasn’t as weak as they thought.

  She didn’t squeeze back, but the tension in her lips eased. Maybe we could have some kind of friendship and trust. She was going to be married to my brother after all. Plus I was a bit desperate for any ally.

  Speaking of ally, where the hell was Aidan? He’d disappeared as soon as we’d entered the castle to who the hell knew where and now seemed to be avoiding me. My curiosity got the better of me.

  “Do you know where Aidan is?”

  “Likely with his family. He’s been gone a long time,” Niamh answered.

  “How long?”

  “Thirteen years.”

  “He never came back to visit? Why?”

  I remembered how adamant Aidan had been about not returning. At the time, I’d thought it was more about my safety than his loathing of this place. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  This time Innis answered. “How the hell should I know? You think we’re friends?”

  I shrugged. “I doubt Aidan would be friends with someone like you.”

  He scoffed. “Because you know him so well, right? You know nothing.”

  I mumbled Jon Snow under my breath. I doubted he’d have any idea what I was talking about, but it was a habit of mine.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Nothing. It was nice to meet you, Niamh. I look forward to your wedding tomorrow.”

  She gave another forced smile. “Me, too.”

  She was lying. I knew it in my gut. Why was everyone lying to me all the time?

  And why were they so bad at it?

  Chapter Eight

  Niamh left shortly after, leaving Innis and I alone. He stared at me—half glaring, half brooding—for several minutes before turning and leaving as well. As soon as he did so, the vultures descended again.

  What I wouldn’t have done to have a little invisibility spell.

  I dodged questions and bodies as I weaved through the clusters of overdressed fairies—Fae—still looking for Aidan. He’d better have a good explanation for his absence. He may not have wanted to come back here, but I needed him. Especially with Liam no where to be found.

  I escaped the room, deftly dodging around a glowering male. As soon as I crossed through the doors, I sprinted down the hall. I had no idea where I was going, just anywhere but here.

  I stepped wrong—damn heels from hell—and my ankle bended. Thankfully there was no snap but pain shot up my leg.

  I cursed and slipped off both shoes. I picked them up and began limping toward…toward…somewhere. I needed a map. Or a friendly guide. Neither were anywhere to be found.

  Which seemed odd. There were no guards or servants or anyone around. That couldn’t be normal.

  Are you surprised? There’s nothing normal about this place.

  I tried to retrace the steps Liam had led me to the throne room, but everything looked the same. Eventually, I ended up in the same room we’d entered from the portal. It was empty.

  I hurried to the door on the other side of the room. As soon as I saw what was now behind it, I gasped.

  I ha
d been gasping a lot today.

  It no longer looked like a military barracks. Instead, there was only a very, very long hall—I couldn’t see the end of it—with several wooden doors lined on both sides. The doors appeared very close together.

  What the actual hell?

  Maybe I’d entered through the wrong door, but this had been the only one from the previous room other than the entrance I’d come through. Were there two—or more—portal rooms? Was this place just the ultimate mind screw?

  I tried to open each door I passed. They were all locked.

  Well, that’s useful.

  I continued to limp down the hall. It stretched for what seemed like miles, and no matter how far I went, there was still no end in sight.

  I looked over my shoulder. I could no longer see the door to get out.

  My stomach tightened, and I shuddered. I could see the headline now.

  King’s sister dies of stupidity in the never-ending hall of locked doors.

  I hustled, my sprained ankle screaming in protest. It was the least of my worries.

  I had no way to contact anyone. I doubted the castle had cell service, and even if it did, it wasn’t like I’d brought my phone. Though, the lights blazing down from the ceiling were at least 60 kilowatts. I really needed to ask someone how electricity was possible in this place.

  After another ten minutes or so, I stopped and closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure where the little voice telling me to do so came from, but at that point I was desperate.

  I took a deep breath, centering my mind and body. It didn’t work. I’d never been good at quieting my thoughts. Too many things to think about.

  I tried another deep breath, and my heart slowed from its frantic pace. I pulled inward, demanding my body and mind to find serenity and stop catastrophizing. Someone would come through the doors eventually. Hopefully someone who knew how the hell to get out.

  A niggling thought tickled the back of my head. The first time I’d been through those doors, at least I thought it was the same doors, this place had been drastically different.

  Calm the F down, Morgan. Focus.

  I wasn’t sure what I was focusing on until my mind went blank, and my body finally stilled. Power. There was power inside me. Something I’d never noticed before. I just had to access it and then…