I know because she’s mine.
But to him, I answer simply.
“I just do.”
CHAPTER 29
AUREN TURLEY
To enter the city ofLydia, you have to pass under an arch made of translucent rock that matches the color of the lavender sky. It stands at least thirty feet high between two twisting trees, and there’s a road of pewter gray bricks that leads you in.
Right now, that road is busy with fae flowing past. I have a feeling that all these people entering the city have to do with the commotion I heard.
A few city guards stand beside the arch, their gazes skimming the crowd as they wave people through. I stay behind the tree line, chewing on my bottom lip as I watch. There’s a dirt road that curves from the forest to my right, which is full of fae passing by to go into the city. Some are on horseback, while others are on foot.
I eye every group. If I’m going to get past the city entrance, I need to be able to blend in.
I glance down at the golden chest plate I made for myself. I’m slightly regretting that decision right about now. It’s going to make me stick out like a sore thumb even more than I already do, but…I look at the way it stretches around my waist, encasing my torso perfectly in elaborate rivulets of melded metal. Not only does it make me feel stronger, it’s pretty too.
Bright side.
My brow instantly furrows, a lost memory clinking against a hollow space in my head.
Bright side…
I can hear myself saying that at another place. Another time. It feels so familiar.
But the strained recollection is pulled away when my gaze snags on a fae riding alone atop his horse, petting at the animal’s long blue braided mane. Right there on one of the saddlebags is a gray cloak draped over the top of it.
I dart forward. With the trees growing so dense and close to the road, it’s surprisingly easy. Staying behind a thick rope of leaves that dangle in front of me, I wait, and then right as he passes by, one of my ribbons plucks the cloak from its spot.
As soon as I slip it over me, my nose wrinkles at the unfamiliar scent. I don’t like smelling this male. It doesn’t reek or anything like that, but for some reason, it bothers me. But it’s better than getting spotted by the city guards before I can even get through the arch.
Making sure to secure the clasp at the neck, I fix the draping fabric, tucking it around my front. I glance down at the ribbons curling around the forest floor, their lengths fluttering through the grass and wildflowers. Even though I’m loath to tuck them away, I have to, so I wrap them around my waist and then give them a reassuring pat through my cloak.
Taking a fortifying breath, I pull up the hood and then dart out past the net of trees and onto the road behind a group of walking fae. I match their pace, keeping my face tilted down, but not too much that I draw attention.
The road bends around, and I allow myself a quick glance up at the arch as I pass beneath it. Then, I’m swallowed up by the shade of the trees, bare feet tracking over the smooth bricks of the city’s road.
Lydia is a tangle of braided trees that drift far up into the sky, and beautiful buildings that somehow look both quaint and dazzling. They’re made up of smooth stones, sparkling glass, steeples and arched doorways.
Some of the buildings are even woven into the thick trees themselves, blending with the nature that seems to hold magic in the air. It feels both ancient and exciting to be on these streets. I can practically feel centuries’ worth of other fae walking along this very same path. Maybe someone else who was once just as awed as I am now.
The crowd today seems to move with one mind though, not taking in the sights. Instead of looking up at the high branches draping down with pods of lights that dangle prettily from the vines, they’re all surging ahead with excitement. So I follow the herd, and the cheering and applause that I’d heard before lifts into the air again.
When the throng is clogged to a stop, I break off, slipping down a tight space between two buildings. I have to go sideways as I squeeze my way through, but then I get out to the next street over.
It’s busier here. There are people above, standing on rooftops and even hanging from the branches of the loping trees. Even the canal I can see from beneath an arched bridge is full of boats.
More cheers rise.
Something urges me on, so despite the street being crammed, I start making my way through, winding past bodies, using every available space. When there isn’t any, I simplymakespace and shove my way past.
Finally, just past a large flowing fountain, the street opens up to a half circle of descending steps. Instead of normal stairs, each step is about as wide as I am tall. A few areas even hold closed-up carts and fastened barrels, as if this space is usedfor an open-air market. Though right now, it serves a different purpose.
At the bottom of the wide circular stone arena, there’s an outdoor theater set up. The wooden platform rests on the sunken ground, with fabric hanging at the back of the stage that has landscapes painted on it. Behind that is an enclosed area, maybe to keep props and performers.
People applaud just as two performers come out from behind the painted drapery. An ample-chested fae female with a bright pink dress inundated with frills comes hurrying out. Right on her heels is a male with green hair whose vest is open, showing off his tanned torso. Both of them have exaggerated rouge and lip stain, with dark liner along their eyes. The female’s cleavage gleams with gold shimmer to draw the eye.
