Haelwen lifts her dove-gray skirt and descends from the throne. Power shivers through the air, brushing past Yarrow’s throat. The back of his neck prickles with defensiveness against a more powerful creature. Swallowing hard, he tries to imitate Folly’s confident sense of performance.
The air settles. Yarrow’s discomfort subsides, leaving only anger.
“Welcome to Elladar, human,” Haelwen says, with surprising warmth. “What is your name?”
Folly sweeps a low, performative bow. “My name is Folly, Your Majesty.”
Haelwen smiles. “And why do you think I gave you that eye, Folly?”
“Because seventeen years ago, you took a memory in exchange.” A quick glance at Yarrow betrays Folly’s nerves, but his voice remains steady. “How old is Tansy?”
Haelwen flinches.
Folly takes a deep breath. “That night, instead of the fireflies, I saw you, didn’t I? I saw you exchanging your child for Tansy. So you took my memory to keep it a secret.”
Stunned admiration swells in Yarrow’s heart, overpowering his anger. Of course, Folly figured it out. He’s watchful and clever and perfect, and Yarrow can’t doubt his conclusion. This would explain everything.
“In this, my old friend Crocus and I are the same,” Haelwen says softly. “We both wished to protect our sons from the summer court.”
The queen looks suddenly, shockingly real. A single strand of blue hair falls in front of her right ear, and one of the blossoms in her crown is bent. There’s a sadness in her eyes, as if Haelwentoo hears the hollowness of Elladar. Yarrow feels a strange kinship with her.
He wishes he didn’t.
“The difference is that Crocus could leave,” Haelwen continues. “I am the summer queen, and I belong to my court. So instead, I had to hide my son away.”
“That’s heartwarming, Your Majesty.” Yarrow doesn’t want to feel kinship with Haelwen. He wants to stay angry. “You took my only memory of my father, then told me to kill him.”
Haelwen doesn’t flinch at that. “Your father was a murderous monster.”
“I’m not mad he’s dead,” Yarrow growls. “I’m mad you tricked me. Had you asked plainly, I might have agreed.”
“I do not rule Elladar on might-haves,” Haelwen says serenely.
Typical fae. “Why did you really need me to kill him? Nevander or someone could have done it.” In sober retrospect, the fact that Moriath had wandered into the human realm was a thin excuse.
Haelwen smiles. “Who better than a child to break his parent’s heart?”
Fuckingtypical fae. They can never resist their twisted notions of poetic destiny.
“You have succeeded, regardless,” Haelwen says. “Which means I owe you your reward.”
This is poetic too, Yarrow supposes. He takes Folly’s hand, already reaching for his. “You owe Folly a reward, not me. He’s the one who killed Moriath.”
Yarrow never imagined abandoning his dream would be so easy.
It feels amazing.
“Folly and I had no agreement,” Haelwen points out, smiling. “But you have done me a service, human. What reward might you want?”
Yarrow’s more than happy to leave this negotiation to his human. Folly’s far more likely to get what he wants from the summer queen. He could change his eye back. He could win a minor glamour, to hide it at will.
They haven’t discussed possible rewards, because Yarrow doesn’t want to sway Folly’s decision. Even if he quietly hopes for one reward above all others.
Folly lifts his chin, both eyes sparkling. “I propose two trades, Your Majesty. For slaying the shapestealer, I want the right of permanent residence in the summer realm.” He lifts one finger, then a second. “My next offer is my continued silence about what I saw seventeen years ago. For that, I want Yarrow to have permanent residence in the human realm.”
Heart soaring, Yarrow stifles a laugh. Of course, his clever little human isn’t satisfied with just one reward. Yarrow would only have thought to ask for Folly’s residence in the fae realm. Folly thought to give them both choices.
“Your offer is welcome,” Haelwen says, golden eyes sharpening. “The latter reward is beyond my power. I have no dominion over the human realm. But I can cast a spell that will delay Yarrow’s realm-sickness for thirteen years.”
