I didn’t move. Barely breathed as the silence between us became heavy.
“Nyleeria?” he asked, voice low.
When I didn’t answer, he gingerly wrapped his fingers around the edge of the tome and tugged lightly as if asking for permission. I resisted at first, then relented.
I didn’t have to see him as he read the title. “Ah,” he said, as if understanding my reluctance, and the barely whispered word of acknowledgment almost broke me.
I turned my head to look at him through watery eyes.
The autumn fae sat with one leg outstretched, one bent, his forearm over a knee, a tome dangling from the tips of his fingers, and a part of me believed the histories it recorded should require infinitely more strength to hold them up than a forefinger and thumb.
He shifted his gaze to me, a dark sadness staring back at me, and I finally understood what histories he’d do anything to stop from repeating—including going against his High Lord.
“I’m…” My throat filled with a sob that wasn’t mine to claim. A tear slid down my cheek as I steeled myself to offer him what I knew no human ever had. “I’m so sorry, Endymion,” I breathed.
His head made the tiniest nod, and in a tone that mirrored mine, he said, “I know.”
I was in awe of this response, and utterly shocked. Those two words held more kindness than I deserved—than humankind deserved.
“Is that really the truth?” I managed to say.
He nodded, and my heart sank further as he looked at me with something that bordered on saddened pity—for me.
“He, Thaddeus, he believes…” I trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Silence stretched before Endymion’s focus turned toward the lake as if looking into the past. “I was five when it happened.” He loosed a sigh, and my chest constricted, instantly wishing I could stick to the sanitized version the text offered—not the first-hand account of a child. “Only five, but I will never forget it. It was a perfect day in the Autumn Court. The crunch of the leaves below my little feet, the lingering summer air, the fresh smell of dew, the sun already warm.” I stilled at his words, at how clear his memory was after so many years.
“There was a deafening crack,” he continued, voice low. “I hadn’t known how to describe it back then, but it was like lightning had struck a nearby tree.” He turned to look at me. “We don’t have thunderstorms in the Autumn Court,” he explained, “so it wasn’t until the first time I’d experienced it here that I knew what it was.”
My spine stiffened, empathizing with how hard that trigger would’ve hit him.
His gaze drifted back toward the lake. “A black cloud rolled through our lands. As it hit, I couldn’t see anything. It came and went within moments, but…”
We sat in silence, and I didn’t dare interrupt it.
“There was screaming,” he finally said. “I remember running back home, looking for my parents. I tripped within seconds. But I knew the streets well—there shouldn’t have been anything there. I looked behind me to see that I’d fallen over a body. I got upset withher. I couldn’t understand why she was just lying in the middle of the pathway. Eventually, I realized she was dead. I watched my footing after that. There were bodies everywhere.”
According to the histories, Thaddeus’ father had cast a spell. A devastatingly cruel one that killed over twenty percent of the fae population. No court was left untouched. Although no one knows for certain, it’s believed that he’d planned for total efficacy.
The Great Curse—that is what the fae call it.
Endymion’s focus landed on me. “What does he think happened?”
My stomach dropped.
Knowing Endymion deserved the truth, I forced myself to look him in the eyes. “That the fae targeted his family because their spell wielding had become too powerful. That they slaughtered his family because of it. He doesn’t know it was provoked—or at least…” I faltered, realizing that might be another one of his lies. “He believes you’ll come for us, to cull or enslave our kind.”
He nodded slowly, his jaw twitching as if chewing on the information. His words were calm but dark as he said, “That’s how all war starts. Half-truths, half-lies, and too many assumptions.”
The truth in his words had my thoughts frantically replaying everything I’d learned in Thaddeus’ palace in an attempt to find clues if he’d known the truth and chosen to ignore it, or if he’d been as oblivious as the rest of us. My mouth soured as a place deep in my core acknowledged that he’d already sacrificed too much for this path, and nothing would sway him from his convictions. Not even the truth. Which meant it ultimately didn’t matter if he knew or not.
“You sayyouas fae, andusas human. Is that how you see it?” Endymion asked, pulling me from my dark thoughts.
It took a moment to adjust to the jolting subject change before I could wrap my mind around his question and formulate a response. “I’m not sure,” I said in earnest. Truthfully, I hadn’t even realized I’d made that distinction.
He cocked a brow as if waiting for me to elaborate.
“How are you even here?” I said, noting that there was no way he’d walked back so fast and desperately wanting a subject change.
