With a deep breath, I take a seat opposite him, on the other side of the food-laden cloth. The earth is warm beneath me, the noonday sun beaming down upon us. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the meal, so I pick up a piece of cheese.
Cobalt takes a piece of fruit shaped like a pear, but with tiny red spikes all around it. He bites into it, spikes and all. “They aren’t sharp,” he says through the mouthful.
“Fae fruit, I’m guessing?”
He nods. “You have to try some. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever had before.”
I stare at the fruit with suspicion. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”
“It is, trust me. Besides,” he says, taking another bite, “you brought your salt, right? If you’re worried, sprinkle some on every bite you take.”
As much as I’d like to avoid all things fae and potentially dangerous, the fruit does look appetizing, especially the way the golden juice runs between Cobalt’s fingers when he takes a bite. After the grueling hike, I could use something refreshing. I grab my pouch of salt, then choose a piece of fruit—one shaped like an apple but with an opalescent golden skin.
“Good choice. We call that an autumn equinox apple. You’re going to love it.”
He’s right. Even with the salt, the flavor is overwhelmingly delicious. It’s sweet and bright with a crisp, juicy texture. I close my eyes to enjoy the sensations.
“So…tell me about yourself,” he says, popping a blood-red berry in his mouth. “What was life like for you before you came here?”
I salt my apple again and take another bite while I consider what to say. I’m hesitant to speak about anything personal, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to share some. Right?
“Well, let’s see. I grew up living in an apothecary run by my mother. For the past two years, I’ve been working as a surgeon’s apprentice. And before I was forced to come here, I had plans to attend medical school on the mainland.”
“Surgeon, wow. So, you cut up human bodies?” Cobalt asks as he grabs an apple like mine.
“I suppose you could say that, although it’s more complicated. It’s a healing practice. Surgery is often the difference between life and death for humans. Is there nothing like that here?”
He shrugs. “We aren’t easy to kill. If there’s ever a time we’re wounded badly enough to require intervention, it usually means there’s no coming back from it.”
I take another bite of salted apple, pondering over what kind of wound would be bad enough to kill a fae. I’ve heard stories about the fae’s impressive abilities to rapidly heal from injury, their supposed immortality. As far as I’ve been told, their main weaknesses are iron and ash. But can they heal from a wound inflicted by either material or is it always fatal? And what about a wound from an ordinary wood or metal? I know what kind of wounds can kill a man, but does the same apply to the fae?
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, shattering my morbid thoughts. “About you being forced to be here. I can tell you were passionate about your plans for school.”
I nod but say nothing in reply. His words make me wonder if he knows why I was brought here—knows about my first meeting with his brother at the wall. If he does, he’s doing a good job not bringing it up. Whatever the case, I’m done talking about myself. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about your adolescence.”
He reclines on the bed of leaves, elbows supporting his weight. “Hmm. I am much older than you by several hundred years, so it’ll take me a moment to think back that far.”
“Several hundred years, you say? And to think you don’t look a day over three-hundred and seventy-two.”
“Ah, perfect. I was beginning to think my blues were showing. That’s what humans get, right? Different colored hair with age?”
“Something like that.” I take my last bite of apple and exchange the core for one of the pear-like fruits.
“Ha, thought so. Now, let’s see. I was born the second son of Queen Melusine. She returned to the sea not long after I was born, which basically meant Aspen had to raise me, although he was barely more than an adolescent himself at the time.”
“Your brother raised you? Does that mean the two of you are close?”
He ponders that for a moment. “I’ve lived with him my entire life, but I wouldn’t say we’ve ever been close. I love him and I’m sure he loves me, but it isn’t always smooth sailing between us. He frustrates me at times, and I know he resents me.”
“Why would he resent you?”
His expression turns apologetic. “It’s no secret many of the council would prefer to see me on the throne.”
Part of me wonders if that wouldn’t be a good idea. So far, Cobalt seems far more civilized than his brother. “How do you feel about that?”
“I just want what’s best for Faerwyvae.”
“Isn’t that what every good king should want?”
