“My kinda girl.” Cassandra’s approving smirk nearly brought him to tears.
He’d barely spoken about Ione with anyone since he’d come to the colonies. Most of the Fae knew who he was, the title he’d lost. And some were even privy to the more sordid details of why he’d been exiled. But he’d only ever uttered Ione’s name to Reena and Cael. He wanted to keep her to himself, a fragile treasure not meant for careless hands.
“Life as I had known it changed that day, as I watched her tiny fingers deftly wield that knife. I’d encountered a few mortals throughout the palace and on trips to Thalenn with my parents, but most of them were so deferent towards me that I never really noticed them. They were like decorations or background furniture.”
Cassandra grunted and crossed her arms. He leaned forward, capturing her smoky blue eyes with his.
“Because that’s what my parents, my tutors, every Fae individual in that palace had taught me. I didn’t know any better.” He hoped his words sunk in, that she’d understand why he’d defended the Windriders who’d abandoned the shipwreck. Because he himself had been one of them, once upon a time.
“Ione’s skill in the kitchen, learned from her mother, opened my eyes. Here’s this tiny creature bestingme,a nearly immortal descendant of the High God Anaemos. I thought perhaps she’d have more to teach me than carrot slicing.
“After that, I came to the kitchens every day for cooking lessons with Ione and her mother. I’m still nowhere near as good a chef as either of them—I’ve yet to taste anything as divine as the food they served me in those years. There was more than herbs and spices flavoring those meals. They poured their heart and soul into their cooking, their love for their species and its history.
“Whenever Ione and I weren’t in the kitchen together, I’d fly her all over the palace grounds. We’d go for walks in the gardens or take a boat out on the canals. And sometimes we’d sneak off into downtown Delos. She always knew where to find the best food in the city. Never at the fanciest establishments, usually just some hole in the wall in a questionable neighborhood that the future Emperorreallyshouldn’t be wandering around in. But the kind folks who owned those places—Fae from across the continent—if they ever recognized me, they never said anything.”
He paused to take a sip of his bourbon, let it burn down his throat and break apart the tightness taking hold. As he settled his tumbler down, soft fingers curled around his hand, giving him the strength to continue.
“Ione didn’t know much about her species or her heritage, since she’d spent her entire life among the Fae, and as she grew older, so too did her curiosity. Ione would beg for stories of the colonies, of Vaengya, and her mother would regale us while we prepped the meals. The tales her mother told were so different from the carefully constructed lies in the books from my tutors that I started to challenge them during my lessons, asking questions they couldn’t answer.
“If mortals were powerless, how had they managed to kill so many of us during the war? If the humans had left their lands willingly, why had so many of them rebelled and died during the emigration? If the colonies were such a wonderful, bountiful place to live, how were so many humans destitute, forced to sell memories? Why had so many been obliviated?
“And if humans were so different from the Fae, how was it possible for me to fall so deeply in love with one?
“Because I was. Recklessly, hopelessly, completely in love with her.” He looked directly into Cassandra’s silver-lined, blue-gray eyes. “The kind of love that hits you in the gut one day and you realize it’s been there all along, waiting to catch you unaware and knock you off your feet. It took a very long time for me to gain the courage to tell her how I felt. I was terrified of what love from someone like me could mean for someone like her, how dangerous it could be. If my family ever found out…
“She never treated me like I was anyone other than myself. She wasn’t interested in my magic or my wealth or my title. She didn’t want anything from me but my company and my honesty. Being with her opened my eyes to what Ethyrios could be, if we could free the humans. I no longer held illusions that their circumstances were anything other than subjugation, despite the Accords and all the bullshit my people spouted about the good they’d done byallowinghumans their lives in the colonies.
“For the first time in my life, Iwantedthe power my title granted me. I’d allow everyone, regardless of species, to have the same opportunities and access to resources that the Fae had hoarded for themselves for centuries. I wanted to create that world. For her.”
He cleared his throat as he approached the sad, bitter end of his tale.
“The year I turned twenty-one, my parents decided it was time for me to choose a mate. My mother began planning a ball for my birthday, inviting the most prominent Fae families from across the continent, especially those with eligible daughters.
“But there was only one woman who could be my future Empress, and I was running out of time to confess my feelings for her. I refused to put that burden on Ione until I had a solid plan to protect her.
“Eamon and I were close in those years.”
He clenched his hand into a fist at his brother’s name, another unhealed loss that had scarred over.
“He was the only family member to whom I’d revealed my intentions as Emperor, my plans for a new Ethyrios. He was also the only person in the world who knew the depth of my feelings for Ione.
“Eamon himself brought me the plan to Turn her. He’d overheard a meeting in the throne room between the Emperor and Cleo’s family—Psylbe’s lover—where they’d come to beg my father to spare their daughter, despite her crime. Neither Eamon nor I had known such things were possible, but we found an ancient, forbidden text hidden in a locked chamber below the palace library that outlined the process, which was simpler than we’d expected: a slice across the palm to share blood, a few muttered vows, a…physical joining.”
Tristan pressed his lips together before grabbing his tumbler and draining the last of his bourbon.
“I’d intended to do it the week before the ball, then make a grand entrance with Ione on my arm. She’d be Fae by then so no one could harm her and my parents couldn’t object to our mating due to her species.”
Cassandra reached out and squeezed his hand again.
“Believe me, I know how foolish this sounds now, but back then... I didn’t consider how ruthless my parents were. How far they would go to maintain the status quo and our family’s chokehold over Ethyrios.
“A little over a week before the ball, Ione joined me for a walk in the gardens and I finally confessed how I felt. How I’d loved her since the moment I’d met her. How I couldn’t bear the thought of facing eternity without her. I explained the Turning ceremony, which I’d intended to perform the following night, and gave her a simple ring I’d swiped from my mother’s overstocked jewelry box—a thin gold band with a solitary pearl in the center. From Vaengya. I wanted her to have a piece of the home she’d never seen.
“I slid the ring on her finger and she burst into tears, tears I couldn’t help echoing. Then she kissed mine away. Told me she’d always felt the same and then shouted at me for waiting so long to say something.”
Cassandra laughed, a wet, strangled sound. Tristan didn’t dare look at her or he wouldn’t be able to finish the rest.
“I made love to her right then and there, couldn’t wait even another night until the Turning ceremony. It was the first time for both of us, so it was sweet and awkward and glorious and life-changing.
