But it was the villagers who stopped me in my tracks.
There were so many Fae.
My entire life, I had only seen Fae hiding in pairs or small groups of three at most, doing everything in their power to avoid the kingdom’s hunters. Here, there was no restraint. No fear. Fae of all ages mingled openly, eating their fill without worry. Laughter echoed through the vast space like a crashing waterfall.
It took me a moment to understand what I was witnessing.
Joy.
Unrestrained joy.
I forced myself to move forward alongside the guide and Daemon. Suddenly, I was painfully aware that the clothes I wore were borrowed. My heart pounded, not from fear, but from not knowing how to exist inside so much happiness.
I wanted to turn around. To leave.
Just as anxiety threatened to take hold, I felt Daemon’s presence at my shoulder. Concern, and something steadier, grounding, shone in his endlessly dark eyes. His expression softened as he placed a hand over my shoulder, his palm largeenough to cover it entirely. He lifted his brows slightly, silently asking if I was all right.
I offered him a tight smile and a small nod just as we approached Lyralei’s table.
The Keeper of Vaelthorne rose gracefully to greet us. Without hesitation, she wrapped me in an embrace.
The weight in my chest eased as her arms tightened around me.
When she pulled away, I was met with genuine smiles, nothing like the brittle, false one Mira had worn before she sold me. These smiles reached their eyes.
“The clothes suit you,” Lyralei said warmly. “Lyanna always looked radiant in whatever she wore. You seem to share that blessing.”
All I could manage was a faint smile.
She turned, her arm settling gently around my shoulders.
“This is Seris, daughter of Lyanna.”
The hall fell silent, like a great wave suspended at its peak before crashing.
Then warmth surged toward me from every direction.
The Fae erupted into cheers. Applause. Whistles. They rushed forward, crowding around us.
An older Fae woman reached me first and clasped my hand between hers.
“Your mother,” she said, eyes bright with memory. “I knew her since she was a child. Lyralei may seem responsible now, but she and your mother caused quite the trouble in their younger days.”
“I,” My voice caught in my throat. “Tha,”
Before I could finish, another Fae stepped forward. And another.
I was surrounded by stories, tales of my mother’s laughter, her mischief, her brilliance. There were so many that theyblurred together, each one adding a piece to a version of her I had never known.
The entire village seemed to gather around us before Lyralei gently urged them back to their tables.
“You’ll all have plenty of time to meet and get to know Seris. For now, she must recover from her journey. Let’s eat.”
Daemon had been pressed against the wall, looking more overwhelmed than I felt. His injuries were still substantial, though he appeared a few shades better after the healer’s visit. I extended a hand toward him, and he crossed the space as soon as the Fae returned to their seats.
We sat at Lyralei’s table. I’d thought the main course had already been served, but I was mistaken. What I’d seen before had only been the beginning. Fae streamed from the kitchen carrying towering platters stacked high with plates. The aroma of steaming food made my mouth water, forcing me to realize how long it had been since I’d eaten a proper meal.
I was the first to be served. Remembering my manners, I waited until everyone else had received their food. My mother had taught me that as a child. Every Fae around me did the same.
