“Is it that you’re unable to have a normal, decent conversation or do you choose to be an asshole?”
Devin shrugged. “Perhaps it’s just you that brings out the worst in me, Miss Wilde.”
She pointedly gazed out the window, arms crossed and her lips a harsh line. “I hope you’ll at least be serious when we get there. If we fail because you think it’s a joke, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Relax, princess, I’ve no intention of sabotaging our chances. I want this just as badly as you, remember?” He cleared his throat, hoping she didn’t press him for his reasons.
“Will you stop calling me ‘princess?’ It’s condescending and completely inaccurate. I’m hardly a princess.”
“Hit a sore spot, have I?” He watched her huff and fidget, her eyes shifting to the other window, though they speared him quickly as they passed.
“It’s…been a nickname that certain papers and gossip columns have used in the past. But it’s not me. They call me princess because I’m pretty and my father is important. No one gives a damn about what I do or who I am. They’d call Cordelia that, too, but she’s not a guardian so she gets a pass from the spotlight. And…recently the title has come off as more of a joke than anything.”
“Why’s that?”
She looked down. “I’d think it’s obvious.”
Devin floundered to catch her meaning. “I’m afraid not, love.”
“My age? I’m nearly twenty-seven and yet,” she gestured to herself, “Still no spouse. That’s common knowledge. I’m nearing the proverbial shelf; cause status and beauty weren’t enough to compensate for my…flaws.”
There was a crack in her confidence, a small fissure as she spoke about society’s opinion of her. Devin wouldn’t pretend to know how her world worked, the nuances clearly outside his understanding if a woman like Miranda could possess any flaw enough to make her unappealing to marry. Provided the person was equally inclined toward matrimony, that is. Devin didn’t count because while he had no wish to marry her either, it was not because ofher‘flaws.’ The vastness of their differences expanded in that moment.
“Sorry, love, I didn’t know,” he offered with sincerity.
“Please. Like I believe that you’re sorry you hurt my feelings—which you didn’t, by the way, it’s just annoying.” She refused to look at him, head cast at a strong angle to force her gaze out the window.
“Believe me or don’t. I may not always play by a gentleman’s rules, but I don’t aim to be needlessly mean. I won’t call you princess.”
“Do what you want,” she snapped.
He’d clearly poked too hard and now she hadn’t just hidden behind her walls but locked all the doors and barred the windows.
It took another half hour before they reached the part of the city designated for the fae Courts. There was a shift in the energy of the air as they neared. Before the rename to Unity, the city had been divided purposefully and with clear, solid borders. A large stream curved its way through the streets, dividing the Courts from Unity so that only narrow footpath bridges could be used to reach them. No carriages crossed into fae territory. They disembarked and Devin ordered the carriage to meet them at the Night Bridge.
“If we’re going to the Night Court, why’d we stop at the Summer Bridge?” Miranda asked.
Devin already felt heavier and they hadn’t even crossed the stream yet. “It’s better not to approach the Night Court from the human side. We’ll be better received if we cut through Summer and Day.”
He worked the tension from his shoulder, muscles clenching to keep him from entering. Pressing onward, he shuffled over the narrow, moss-covered bridge. The water below was crystal clear, winding down and out the southern border of Unity. Its source was in the Fey Wilds and defied natural law in flowing up higher ground, instead of down. There was some sort of magical fae nonsense that played with the current, but he couldn’t remember what. At the end of the bridge waited the lush, verdant Summer Court. Devin stopped to check on Miranda, but she was crouched on her knees, petting the bridge.
“We don’t have all night,” he said and he attempted to keep the unease from his tone.
She pulled her fingers away from the plush moss and let her hands waft through fern fronds. A genuine smile warmed her face, alighting her eyes as much as the hues of the landscape. Still not enough to charm him to the fae side of the stream. Devin turned rigidly and continued moving while she caught up.
Fae embraced nature with their architecture, finding a balance between function and preservation. The trees were grown to be practical parts of the city, housing lights and glowing rocks. The pathways were carefully sculpted amongst rich grass dotted with flowers. Various springs and brooks trickled meandering courses through the unpaved paths, their direction not tamed or controlled. Heat radiated from sources he couldn’t name, raising the temperature a good twenty degrees from the rest of the city.
A part of Devin was at home here, though he hated the fact. Hated that he felt calm around the natural beauty. That the twist of the water was soothing. Even being out at night felt invigorating, his body naturally attuned to the rise of the moon.
Magic was not something one wielded or controlled, not even the fae. It only existed in natural forms throughout the Realm. The fae were the chosen protectors of nature and so were more attuned to its magic than other races. That was the source of their gifts, of his aura sight. That was how they heated this court to unnatural temperatures and changed the flow of rivers. Or, that is how his mother had explained it. The specific names of the various stones and plants and elements and their multitude of uses he’d long forgotten.
“Wow, it’s beautiful here,” Miranda chimed quietly, taking in every detail.
“Yes, lovely,” he mocked, not wanting to admit that he agreed with her. Though, a small voice in his head was extremely satisfied that she would find this place beautiful. Maybe shewouldn’t reject his ancestry. Maybe she’d accept the fae part of him. He may not accept himself, but there was still a yearning in his chest for acceptance. Since he was a boy he’d subconsciously sought a place or people to call home. His mother had done her best, but the cold treatment from his father plus a young half-breed son and no home to return to had left her broken and depressed. And yes, he had friends who were polite about the subject, but that wasn’t the same thing. If Miranda thought this place was beautiful then maybe…
Devin squashed that voice down hard. That was the fanciful fool talking. He couldn’t trust a fanciful fool. Hoping that Miranda might accept him? That was the path to heartbreak. She was a noble’s daughter and a guardian, even if she were polite or kind about his ancestry she’d never accept him for it. Not in any way that mattered to him. So there was no point in seeking it out or pondering what-ifs.
“Do all the courts look the same?” Miranda asked, breathless.
