Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Um…you could be right,” I said hesitantly, not sure how she would take the news.
“How do you mean, my dear?” The queen looked at me sharply. “Please—tell me what you know.”
Slowly, I told her what the Nocturne Headmistress had told me about how my father had said he had been poisoned and that my mother had already died of the same poison.
“He also said I would be in danger if anyone knew who I was,” I added. “I think he must have been the one to put the geas on me that hid my true identity.”
“Oh, my poor boy!” Tears filled the queen’s triple-ringed eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I feel terrible that he didn’t feel safe enough to come to me and hand you over to be raised properly!”
“Well my mom—my human mother, I mean—did a pretty good job,” I said, a touch defensively. “I mean, she did the best she could. We’ve never had much money but she loves me and she’s always been there for me.”
“I shall see that she is royally compensated for her trouble,” the queen said grandly. “She shall want for nothing!”
“Well, she’s actually all right now, though we did have some trouble with our landlord recently,” I said, blushing as I remembered the “trouble” with Mr. Groperson and how I had made it worse. “But that’s over now and she’s in a good place,” I added quickly. “So she really doesn’t need anything.”
“Nonsense!” the queen exclaimed. “She must and shall have a royal reward for raising and protecting my granddaughter and royal heir all these years.”
“Okay, well thanks. I mean, thank you very much,” I said politely. “Er…” I cleared my throat. “I have a question, though. I know who everyone is but this.” I pointed to the lovely young woman with dark hair and gold eyes still visible in the scrying bowl. “Who was my mother?” I asked the queen. “Did you know her?”
“Her? Oh, probably just a wood nymph from the Winter Court.” She waved a hand dismissively over the bowl and suddenly all the faces disappeared.
“So…you didn’t know her?” I asked.
“I am afraid not, my dear,” the queen said briskly, but somehow her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “My son told me he had fallen in love with a girl from the Dark Lands and I’m afraid I was very angry with him. We do not allow their kind in the Summer Court, you know.”
“Their kind?” I frowned. That sounded pretty racist to me—if one kind of Fae could be racist against another kind. Which I supposed was possible.
“Yes. I sent him away in a fit of rage.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “You cannot imagine how much I regret that! Maybe he would be alive today if I hadn’t refused to let him wed the one he loved.” She stifled a sob and I felt sorry for her.
“You can’t saw sawdust,” I offered, which was something Mom always says when I’m kicking myself for something stupid I did or said.
“Excuse me?” The queen raised an eyebrow at me uncertainly.
“Oh—it’s a, uh, human expression,” I said. “It means, you can’t change the past, so it’s better to move on and just try to learn from it and do better in the future.”
“Well…” She sniffed and smiled at me. “That’s quite a wise saying, which surprises me since humans are usually so dull and stupid.”
“Um…” I didn’t know what to say to that.
There she went, being racist again. Maybe the Fae of the Summer Court just really detested anyone at all outside their own people.
“I was raised to think I was human until about two weeks ago,” I offered at last.
“But how foolish! Of course you could never be one of those awful creatures!” my grandmother exclaimed.
“Um,” I began, not sure what to say to that. But she was already onto another topic.
“Now, we must get you to my personal seamstress so we can get you a gown that’s suitable for tonight’s event!” she said briskly.
“Tonight’s event?” I asked, frowning.
“Why yes—when I proclaim you as my heir, my dear! And then, I suppose, we’ll announce the O’Connor boy as your consort,” she went on busily. “I’ll have to recall his father and family from exile, of course—which is quite all right, I have missed my head Councilor sadly since he went away. But once he returns, his son will be quite an acceptable match for you. So—”
“What about Lachlan?” I interrupted.
“Excuse me? Who?” She frowned at me.
“Lachlan—the other Fae boy I’ve been Marked by,” I said patiently. “I’m with him as much as I am with Bran.”
“I’m afraid, that’s unacceptable,” my dear,” the queen said firmly. “A queen cannot have two consorts, you know! And obviously, between the two of them, you’ll want to choose the O’Connor boy. He comes from a good family—a Summer Court family—which makes him the best match for you.”