Lorelei squints as if pondering. “You never knew him?”
“I was still a baby when they separated.”
“Where is he now?” Foxglove asks.
I shrug. “Still on mainland Bretton, I assume. Mother said they parted ways because he wouldn’t move to Eisleigh with us. That’s what doesn’t make sense about this ridiculous suggestion. How could a fae, or part-fae, or whatever we’re hypothesizing my father was, sire me on the mainland? Isn’t being so far from Faerwyvae certain death for the fae?”
I remember the story Cobalt had told me, about the exile of the Fire King at the end of the war. They sent him to the mainland to die as punishment for being the first to engage humans in organized violence. In return, the humans agreed to the tradition of the Hundred Year Reaping. The very thing that got me into this mess.
“It is indeed death for fae to leave the Fair Isle,” Foxglove says, expression grave. “Even being on the human side of the wall creates a drain on our magic. Without that magic, our lengthy lifespans are forfeit.”
“So, the exiled Fire King definitely died, then?” My stomach churns. I don’t want to admit the ludicrous train of thought that prompted the question.
Foxglove nods. “The exiled king lived out a mortal lifespan after arriving on the mainland. Ambassadors were sent to confirm his death when he passed.”
I let out a sigh. That removes one absurd possibility. “Have there been others? Any other fae who’ve been exiled this century?”
Foxglove and Lorelei exchange a glance. “Not that anyone knows of,” Foxglove says. “And no fae would go to the mainland willingly.”
“Then it makes no sense. Either their proof is false and the human council is fabricating this excuse to break the treaty, or there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“I’m going to find out which of those possibilities is the case tonight,” Foxglove says. “King Aspen is sending me to meet with Sableton’s mayor and get to the bottom of this at once. If it is a simple misunderstanding, I’ll take care of it. I’ll offer whatever compensation they desire to make up for the error that led them to believe this. Then your wedding to the king will continue as planned.”
Lorelei slowly turns to Foxglove. “What if it isn’t a misunderstanding? Or if there’s no way to dissuade them from believing their accusations?”
“Then the treaty is broken,” I say, “and we go to war. Right?”
The grimace returns to Foxglove’s lips, and he adjusts the bridge of his spectacles with trembling fingers. “Not necessarily.”
His words should bring relief, but his expression is not one of hope. “What is it?”
“This is the part—one of many, I should say—that you won’t like,” he says. “The human council offered the king one final option to secure the treaty. If their suspicions about you prove correct, he’ll have to accept two new Chosen and perform all three parts of the alliance at once. The mate ceremony, the ritual, and the human wedding. All of it. They’ve gone so far as to confirm the names of the potential new Chosen. Some Maddie and Marie Coleman. And the council insists Aspen be the one to marry, no minor cousin or other relative as has often been the practice during previous Reapings.”
My stomach sinks as his words cleave my heart in two. Not only will Aspen have to marry someone else, but he’ll have to marryMaddie Coleman. The girl I despise more than any other in my village. “Of course it’s her,” I mutter, a bitter smile on my lips. I remember how jealous she’d been when we met outside the Holstrom farm, how she’d boasted about being selected as backup Chosen if the Holstrom girls didn’t work out. She was livid when she realized Aspen had requested me by name. Of course, I was livid too. Still...could this somehow be her doing? Her jealousy might be believable, but I can’t imagine her having the power to orchestrate this new development, even with her uncle being Sableton’s mayor. No, there’s something much bigger behind this.
With a deep breath, I curl my fingers into fists, nails biting into my palms. “This is the only way to avoid war?”
Foxglove nods. “The mayor wants me to agree to this new arrangement when we meet tonight. If I do, I’ll be leaving Sableton with the new Chosen by midnight.”
I don’t know what to say, so I remain quiet, eyes shifting out of focus as they fall on the wedding gown hanging near Lorelei’s arm.
Foxglove wrings his hands. “King Aspen, however, has ordered me to refuse.”
My eyes snap to his. “What?”
“If it comes down to breaking the treaty or accepting the new Chosen, he’ll take the former.”
“And bring war to us all?”
“He has his reasons,” Foxglove says, “and many of them are sound. Even as an ambassador, I understand there’s only so much one can take before fighting back.”
I rise to my feet with every intention of storming to Aspen’s study and breaking down his door. But Foxglove rises as well, palms held up facing me, as if to keep me in place. “I didn’t tell you this to use as fuel in a fight with the king.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Well, I’m using it anyway.”
“I told you this because it’s far more personal to you than you know. The mayor has your mother. She’s being detained by order of the human council. If Aspen refuses to accept the new Chosen, not only will there be war, but your mother will be executed.”
4
