I shouldn’t be here. I should be back in my court and discussing the threat along our borders. Instead, I’m upholding this utterly archaic tradition.
We approach the village without fanfare. Torches burn along the cobblestone road, and there seems to be a commotion up ahead. A scream cuts through the night, and I reach for my sword.
Brock gives a slight shake of his head. “The selection process isn’t without difficulty, but we are perfectly safe.”
“I know I’m safe. I was more concerned for whoever let out that gut-wrenching scream.”
“Don’t worry yourself.” He sighs. “You are still so young, my lord. But you will soon see the way of things. The changelings are not your people. They have no magic and no place in the realms except for their work.”
“And as members of my harem.” I release my sword and stroke Irlirin’s mane again. “Let’s not forget that.”
Brock gives a long-suffering huff. “This is necessary, my lord.”
“Then let’s get it over with.” I speed our pace, each step toward the center of town adding to my irritation. Am I not capable of choosing females from among my own people?
Taking changelings from the Nightlands may be tradition, but it’s one I don’t need.
3
Emma
The choosing stage is already set up, the old beams forming a platform where at least twenty young women stand in the dark. The bonfire is just now jumping to life as the gruff high fae shoves me onto the stage.
“Emma.” Imelda stands next to me, her brown eyes wide. “Why are we here? We’re too old.”
“Where’s Clenton?” I scan the growing crowd.
“He’s gone to fix the well at Gray’s Peak. Tele and Lira went with him, their first trip.” Her eyes water. “What if they take me? What if I never see my children again?”
“They won’t. You’re married.” I grab her hand. “That’s against the rules.” Is it? I don’t know, but surely anyone who’s already married with children can’t be taken as a consort.
I peer down the row of women, some crying, some solemn. Lysetta stands in the middle of the platform, her shoulders thrust back so her ample chest is on display. She’s desperate to be chosen, and I wish her all the luck the Ancestors can bestow.
The villagers stir, agitated by the unexpected violence from their sunny neighbors. Too many of us have been rounded up. Does the king intend on taking more than ten?
Mama pushes through the throng and stands just beneath me, blood still staining her lip.
“Are you all right?” I drop to my knees and reach for her, but a Dayland guard steps between us.
“I’m fine, girl.” She glares at the guard. “Stand up, make a good showing.” She plays it tough, but I can hear the wobble in her voice. As much as she talks about the good fortune of being a consort, she sure seems worried.
“I’m too old,” I reassure her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Imelda?” She turns her gaze to my friend. “Why are you here?” Mama puts her hands on her hips, thunderclouds gathering on her brow. “You can’t be a consort!”
“I know.” Imelda implores the guard as more girls are hefted up to the choosing stage. “I have a husband and children. Please, let me go. I’m not supposed to—”
“You will do as you are commanded.” His tone is gruff, verging on violent.
Imelda bursts into tears as I pull her up and wrap my arm around her.
“This is an outrage.” Mama’s voice rises, and the villagers nearby join in her yells, their anger like a red ribbon in the night. “No summer king has ever taken a wedded changeling as a consort, much less a mother.” She continues, her scolding tone particularly familiar to me.
“Take heart.” I squeeze Imelda’s arm to get her attention, then jerk my chin to the back of the stage. They’ve erected it too close to the old millhouse, the black-leaved bushes growing up wild and thick on the edge of the wooden platform.
She meets my eyes and takes a deep breath. “Should we?”
The guard has walked away from us, his hands in the air as he tries to quiet my mother. I could tell him that it’s an impossibility, but instead, I ease Imelda back, the two of us shrinking away from the light of the bonfire and into the dense leaves. She can’t be taken to the day realm, not when she has a husband and children who rely on her. I won’t let it happen.
