The corridor led to the sea where several small boats were waiting. Thane and Eislyn climbed inside one, rowing their way to the opposite shore. There, the city of Tairngire came alive. On the docks that wove through the city’s northern canals, several musicians sat playing their fiddles and their harps and their flutes, stomping along to a lilting, upbeat song. Thane pulled Eislyn out of the boat, his entire body transformed during the short journey from shore to shore.
He no longer stooped as if the weight of an entire realm squatted heavily on his back. With his chin tipped up and his eyes sparkling, he almost looked happy. Eislyn couldn’t help but smile right back.Who is this male?
“Welcome.” He spread his arms and jogged a few steps back. “To the wonderful district of Toilichte, named after the very first High King of the Air Court.”
“How are you able to come here?” she asked, hurrying after him. “Don’t they know your face? Your tattoo is very...distinctive.”
“Oh, they know me well, but they are also loyal to a fault. Every night, I come here. We laugh, we dance, we drink. And then they whisper a word of it to no one.”
“Well, someone surely has been talking, for your revels are the gossip of the entire continent.”
He winked. “And yet, no one knows the truth.”
Thane led her off the rickety docks and onto a dirt path lined with hundreds of thatched roof buildings. There were more fae here in this small district of Tairngire than there was in all of Falias. The sheer scope of it almost took her breath away. Eislyn had never seen anything like it before. She had never left her kingdom. The closest she had ever gotten to seeing something like this was by reading books, over and over until she had memorized their words.
“Come,” Thane said, beckoning her toward a grand timber building at the edge of the river. “We will be revelling in The Silver Sword tonight.”
Eislyn’s heart thumped, even in the midst of so much laughter, dancing, and music. Never leaving the safety of her castle also meant never stepping foot inside a tavern. She did not know quite what to expect.
When they pushed through the door, a blast of warmth hit Eislyn from the roaring central hearth. She glanced around, spotting at least twenty long, wooden tables packed to the brim with low fae of every shape, size, and shade. With unusually high ceilings and deep orange tables and chairs built from the Alder Tree, only found within Wood Court lands, the tavern felt like a whole other world. The buzz of conversation rose up all around them, and not a single soul glanced their way.
“This is your revel?” Amused, Eislyn arched her brow and turned toward Thane. She had expected pure chaos, bodies whorling, half-naked.
He grinned. “Don’t worry. Things liven up as the ale gets passed around. Come. Let’s have a few drinks while the bards have their say.”
Eislyn straightened up. “There are bards?”
“There aremanybards,” he said, gesturing to the nearest table.
When they settled into the table, two overflowing tankards of ale landed before them. A woman in simple garb sauntered up to the table—human, Eislyn could tell by the smooth curving ears that were shown off by her hairstyle—a braided updo. Eislyn couldn’t hide her shock. Few humans lived in Tir Na Nog. Even fewer freely in the capital cities. The courts tended to seek out humans and bind them into service at the castles. There was little they could do about it. Stronger, faster, and longer living, the fae could easily control the mortals, though the differences between the two races had been levelling out over the past few decades. Since the Fall, fae had slowly been losing their upper hand.
“Evening, Thane,” the woman said, shocking Eislyn even further. She had not heard a single soul call Thane by anything other than his title since they’d arrived in Tairngire. “Who is this lovely thing you have with you tonight?”
“Evening, Phely. This is Eislyn Darragh.” Thane grinned. “She’s my guest. Treat her well. And don’t tell the bastards from Faladrast who she is. They don’t like ice fae.”
Phely cocked her head. “Eislyn? Not Reyna then?”
“This is Reyna’s sister.”
Eislyn shifted uncomfortably on her chair. She had hoped no one would point out the oddity of the prince spending the evening with his betrothed’s sister. She had tried to push her worry down, but the thought was there all the same. Their shared company could start vicious rumors, ones that they could not afford right now.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” Eislyn murmured as the woman strode away to deliver tankards to the next table. “This is going to spread like wildfire.”
“No, it won’t. These fae are my friends. Everything that happens inside these four walls never leaves.”
“Then, how do you explain all the rumors?”
“None of those rumors started here.”
Thane raised his wooden tankard and nodded toward Eislyn’s. He had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face. She had never seen him quite so relaxed. Usually, there was a tension in his shoulders, a tightening in his jaw. She had never really thought much about it until then. A tense prince was not an oddity.
A cheerful, relaxed one, on the other hand...
The light in his eyes had her lifting the tankard and clinking it against his. She brought it to her lips and took a sip, making a face instantly. Eislyn had never been fond of ale or even wine, and her sisters had never encouraged her to drink. They had always worried for her and rightfully so. Eislyn’s mind was often a mess.
But not this night.
Thane chuckled and slammed his tankard onto the table. “Too bitter?”
