Autumn Rebel Page 2

  Sage stepped closer, jutting his blunt sword forward, the tip aimed directly at my chest. I parried his sword with mine and advanced a large stride at the same time, then landed a round kick to his open side.

  “Good,” he said, an easy smile overtaking his lips. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened. “Very good, my lady.” The smile vanished and he moved. As fast as lightning, he stepped into my personal space, clasped a hand around my neck, and pulled me to him while pushing the tip of his sword into my stomach.

  “Rust,” I muttered.

  “Oh my,” Jora exclaimed again.

  Chuckling, Sage let go of me and lowered his sword. “One of these days, she’ll have a heart attack.”

  I ran a hand over my head, pushing back the strands that fell loose from my braid. “I already told her not to come to my training sessions, but she insists on it.”

  “I’m your handmaid, Lady Blair.” She approached us, her face contorted into a glare. Her chubby cheeks were red with frustration, and her warm brown eyes were ice cold and locked on me. “It’s my duty, my honor, to follow you wherever you go.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even to this smelly place.”

  I smiled at her. The training grounds weren’t that smelly. That, or I had grown used to it since I had spent a lot of time here since I was very young. I didn’t understand how Jora wasn’t used to it too, since she had been taking care of me for just as long.

  “Another round, my lady?” Sage asked.

  “No, no more rounds,” Jora said before I could open my mouth. “We have to go, my lady; otherwise we’ll be late for your visit.”

  Oh, rust. I had forgotten I had my biweekly visit this afternoon. I glanced down at my leather pants and vest, my red-brown boots and my thin beige tunic. “I don’t think Lugh will mind seeing me like this.”

  Red spread over Jora’s cheeks, indicating she was now not only frustrated, but a bit angry too. It was easy to bait her. “He might not mind seeing you like this, my lady, but the queen will.” She grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the exit. “Now come, please.”

  I threw my practice sword to Sage. “I can’t escape this.”

  “I know, my lady.” He lowered his head. “I’ll clean up too, and then meet you at the front gates.”

  “We leave in one hour!” Jora yelled at him, but her eyes faced forward, her steps sure, like a fae on a mission.

  I wiggled my fingers at Sage, but didn’t protest. I let my old friend take me to my chambers, bathe me, and pamper me.

  Perry, a royal guard, always came to escort me to the palace along with Jora and Sage. I once questioned why, thinking Jora and Sage were capable of riding with me the short distance from the nobles’ district to the palace, but Lugh affirmed it wasn’t only for security. It was to show the Autumn fae that I mattered.

  It had been silly of me to question it, since I had been raised for this role, but I wasn’t one to stay quiet in the back, and Lugh knew that.

  Now, as the five of us—my mother, Bruna, had decided to join us—cut the capital in a slow gait, fae watched. Some stopped whatever they were doing when I passed and waved frantically, others stared with wonder in their eyes, and others eyed me with suspicion. I didn’t let that bother me, though.

  And it clearly didn’t bother my mother.

  “They adore you, Blair,” she said with a smile. She waved at the fae as if she was the queen. I had to control the urge to roll my eyes at her. I loved my mother, and I knew she loved me. She had my best interest at heart, alongside with her ambition and desires for more.

  My father was the polar opposite. He was a noble fae, a trusted advisor to the former king, who had been one of his best friends. But my father was a quiet and reclusive fae, and when the king died many years ago, he only closed up more. Now, he preferred staying in the shadows and watching his loved ones succeed from afar.

  I liked to think I was a mix of the best parts of both my parents. The truth, though, was probably far from that.

  I could let those thoughts consume me, or I could simply put one foot in front of the other and keep going. So, I glanced at the fae with a soft smile and let my eyes roam the capital. Masarn was a beautiful city with beige, white, and yellow buildings, topped by brown or red roofs, and yellow, orange, and red trees. The leaves fell on the cobblestone streets, creating a colorful carpet.

  We turned the last corner leading to the palace, and as usual, I held my breath, taking in its magnificence. The Oren Palace stood tall against an orange valley, its brown stones solid and rough. Thin, long windows dotted its surface, and red vines grew along its sides. I had practically grown up inside this place, and yet, each time I came to visit, it felt like a stark shock. My parents were of noble birth and had raised me as their little princess, but our manor was still a far cry from the grandiose palace, and despite all my education and training and preparedness, I wasn’t sure I would ever be truly ready for what was expected of me.

  But I had gladly accepted the challenge. Like Lugh, what I cared about the most was the welfare of the Autumn Court and its fae.

  Upon seeing us approach the palace, the guards opened the gates and bowed as we passed. Willow waited for us at the palace’s entrance. I smiled as I dismounted and walked to her. With a wide smile, the young fae threw her arms around me.

  I chuckled and embraced her tight.

  About six months ago, King Varian of the Summer Court had sent a messenger, saying he had found a lost female fae in another realm. He had brought her back, but her memories were gone. Besides her name, Willow, she didn’t remember how she got there or who her parents were. I went to retrieve her, sure I could bring her back to the Autumn Court and find her family with the snap of my fingers. Even though I had the full support of the royal family, I still hadn’t found her family, or anyone who could claim her as their own.

  Meanwhile, the royal family allowed her to stay in the palace, and treated her like a princess, which I thought she quite enjoyed. Princess Maize and Queen Aurelia had taken a liking to Willow, and I had started to wonder if they wished the young fae’s family wasn’t ever found.

  “How have you been?” I looked down at her. She was still small and childlike, even though she was a teenager. The many years she lived as a slave in the other realm had taken its toll.

  “Good.” She let go of me, but didn’t step too far away. “I missed you.”

  I frowned. “I was here two weeks ago.”

  “I know, but you’re always the kindest to me.”

  Together, we walked into the palace. My mother, Jora, and Sage followed behind us. “I thought you enjoyed the queen’s and the princess’s company.”

  Willow leaned closer. “I do, I really do, but they treat me as if I was a little girl. You don’t.”

  I made a mental note to talk to the queen and the princess about it. Willow looked young, and she was a lot younger than us, yes, but she wasn’t a child anymore.

  The first few times I had come to the palace after my future title changed, I had been escorted by handmaids and pages and several guards, as if I didn’t know my way around, or I was in danger. I hadn’t complained. But as the years went on, I talked to Lugh about it, and thankfully, he heard me. Now, I moved freely around the palace with only Jora, Sage, and sometimes Perry following me around. However, I did notice the patrols and guards stationed in hallways and doors paid attention to my every step, as if they had been instructed to make sure I was okay.

  This had been my life for years, and I still wasn’t used to it.

  Willow and I walked into the sunroom—a large beige and burnt-yellow room with sparkling brown floors, luscious handmade oak and cedar furniture, and red cushions. Windows covered most of the walls in the room, letting the sunlight in and warming the place.

  Standing in the middle of the room, Queen Aurelia and Princess Maize smiled at me.

  “My dear Blair,” the queen said, her voice frail. She opened her thin arms to embrace me. “You look lovely.”

 
“Thank you.” I accepted her embrace, careful not to rumple her beautiful gown. Though she looked paler and weaker each time I came to visit, she still dressed for a ball every day. Her long, dark raven hair was carefully pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck, her delicate hands were covered with rings, and her wrists were adorned by bracelets. “How have you been?”

  She pulled back and waved me off. “I’m old and uninteresting. Don’t worry about me.”

  But I did worry. Everyone did. After the king died from the sea plague, Queen Aurelia had spiraled down a dark hole. No one had been able to rescue her from it. She withdrew from court affairs for many years. She left her kingdom unprotected and uncared for. Only recently she had started coming out for tea and walks again, but she still looked like she could snap and fall into that hole any minute.

  Princess Maize was a younger, brighter copy of her mother. She too embraced me like a sister and asked me how I was doing. As usual, my mother fawned over the queen and the princess, throwing out more compliments than necessary and bowing her head about ten times per minute.

  “Why don’t we sit down?” Maize said, gesturing to the couches behind us.

  “Of course.” The queen was the first to sit in an armchair modeled after the throne in the main hall.

  Princess Maize and Willow sat on a loveseat, and my mother took another armchair, a less opulent one, across from the queen. I was about to sit on another loveseat when someone else joined us.

  I stood at attention. Princess Maize, my mother, and Willow rose from their seats. The only one who didn’t move was Queen Aurelia.

  “Good afternoon,” Prince Lugh said. His dark brown eyes instantly found mine and he showed me a small smile. “Lady Blair.”

  “Hello, Your Highness.” I curtsied, as I was taught to do, though I knew it irritated Lugh to no end.

  My mother would have knelt on the floor and kissed his feet if he had asked that of her. For now, she settled for bowing low, showing her respect.

  “Please, sit down, and be at ease.” Lugh walked to my side, took my hand, and sat down with me. “I trust you’ve been well?”

  “Yes,” I answered. My eyes found our joined hands. I should have been used to this by now. Though it felt easy, it didn’t bring butterflies to my stomach, or make my heart race. Which was a shame. He was handsome with auburn hair and a gentle smile. He was tall, and I knew for a fact he trained with the soldiers often, which gave him a fit body and muscled physique. I had seen court ladies and other nobles swooning over him. And yet, all I felt for him was a deep camaraderie. “How about you?”

  Lugh sighed. “Well, yes, though very busy.”

  It was always the same answer. Sometimes he took me to his study and the council room and told me all that was happening in the kingdom. He knew the Autumn Court and its fae were important to me, and I cared about what was going on. He knew I wanted to help.

  But for now, I observed.

  Soon, that would change.

  “You know,” the queen started. She placed her folded hands on her knees and stared at Lugh and me. “I’m not getting any younger here. Though fae might live for many hundreds of years, I would rather not push my luck. Before I die, I want grandchildren.”

  I gulped.

  “I agree, Your Majesty,” my mother added. “Have you two decided on a date for the wedding?”

  Lugh and I exchanged a glance.

  When I was a little girl, I came a lot to the palace because of my father’s position. He was part of the fae council who helped the king rule over the Autumn Court, but everything changed when I became a teenager and our parents agreed that Lugh and I would be betrothed. I continued coming to the palace after that, but while I came to play with the princes and the princess, I then went to visit my future husband.

  Since then, my days had been spent on learning how to be the best wife a husband could have, and the best queen a kingdom could ask for.

  No, Lugh and I had not decided on a date. To be honest, we barely talked about the wedding.

  “We are in no rush, Mother,” Lugh said, as polite as ever. I had seen Lugh lose his composure twice—the first when his father died, and the second when his brother left.

  “You might not be, but I am,” the queen said, her tone soft. Disappointed. “This kingdom could use a party.”

  “There are plenty of festivals and special dates being celebrated, Mother,” Lugh said. “Choose one and throw a big party.”

  She shot him a glare.

  My mother opened her mouth to add her voice to the marry-now chant Lugh and I heard often, but she closed it when General Barric walked into the sunroom.

  The older fae bowed deeply. “My apologies, Your Majesty, but I need to speak with Prince Lugh.”

  The queen waved her hand, clearly annoyed with the interruption. Lugh patted my hand and went to meet the general. The two of them walked outside the room and talked in hushed tones. The queen, the princess, my mother, and Willow resumed talking about the wedding. How grand it would be, how many kingdoms they would invite and how they would show off, they even discussed ideas for decorations and food, but my attention was divided.

  Though I couldn’t hear what Lugh and the general were discussing, I could see half of Lugh’s body from here, and he was as rigid as a board. His usually gentle demeanor changed completely and his jaw tightened.

  Something was wrong.

  A few minutes later, Lugh marched back into the room, but halted a couple of steps from the doorway. “I have grave news,” he said. He glanced at me, and then at his mother.

  The queen’s brow curled down. “What is it?”

  Lugh let out a long breath. “It seems we’re about to be attacked.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice low. I wasn’t sure, but somehow, I could guess his answer.

  He nodded at me, confirming my thoughts. “The sea elves are back.”

  3

  Red

  Cade and I barely had time to take a step back and dodge the attack as two monsters—complete with dark gray skin, visible black veins, and snakelike red eyes—rushed us, their claws aiming at our heads, and their jagged teeth snapping toward our necks.

  I forced the wind around us to funnel into the attackers. It didn’t stop them, but it made them stumble to the side, giving Cade and me a breathing moment.

  “What the rake?” Cade asked. He moved up his hands and ice formed around the monsters’ legs, trapping them in place. The monsters fought against the ice but couldn’t break free. Cade withdrew his sword and pressed the tip of the blade to the chest of the nearest monster. “What are you doing here? How did you cross the barrier?”

  “W-we are running,” the monster said, his voice clipped. This one was taller than the other monster, but slimmer, his limbs longer. His skin was also paler, but his red eyes were brighter. And there were a few patches of dark hair atop his head.

  “Running from what?” Cade asked.

  The two monsters exchanged an uneasy glance. “There have been fights among the tribes of the Tywyll Forest,” the other one said. He had a nasty scar across his shoulder and neck. “It has been … gory, to say the least.”

  “It’s an endless war,” the first one added. “The attacks come from nowhere, and everyone we know has fallen.”

  I frowned, almost pitying the monsters. Even though I knew they were greedy and nasty and plain vicious, they probably also had families and friends—in a way. If everyone this monster knew had fallen, then he was alone, and a part of me could sympathize with that.

  “How did you cross the barrier?” I asked, bringing the questioning back to what we wanted to know.

  Again, the two monsters exchanged glances. “My sister-in-law was half witch,” the scarred one said. “She enchanted this before dying.” He raised his hand. A simple gray stone rested in his palm.

  Without lowering his sword, Cade reached for the stone. He hissed. “I can feel the magic in it.” Cade looked at me, and I could rea
d the question in his eyes.

  How could a rusting witch cast a spell that would undo the combined magic of three powerful fae and a goddess? This witch had to be extremely powerful. If she hadn’t died, I would be concerned right now.

  Cade pocketed the rock. “Turn around and go back to your land. I don’t care what is happening in there. Stay there and solve it. Or don’t. But don’t bring your problems into my land.” He pushed the sword into the monster’s chest, drawing a thin line of black blood. “Understood?”

  I thought the monsters would argue, but thankfully, they didn’t. Cade let go of his magic and the ice melted from their legs, freeing them. He went to the barrier and placed his hand on it—it opened, a tiny sliver. The two of them turned around, and with their shoulders slumped, they marched across the barrier once more. Cade retreated and the cut closed.

  He patted the pocket of his pants. “I can’t believe a stone like that could do this. Open and close the barrier.”

  “Let’s hope there’s no other witch like that in the Tywyll Forest,” I said. “Make sure to keep this stone a secret and well hidden, and it should be fine.”

  Cade nodded at me, then let out a relieved sigh. “I had been so nervous we would discover something much bigger and worse than two runaway monsters …” He rolled his shoulders. “You know what we need right now? A good drink. Let’s have a nice dinner at the White Castle.”

  I smiled. “I will never say no to that.”

  For some reason, this dinner was fancier and busier than the few others I had shared with Cade and Amber since arriving at the Winter Court. Besides the king and the queen, there were a few noble families in the grandiose dining hall, with its white walls, tall ceiling, heavy ice chandeliers, smooth white floors, and long, tall windows. The guests took seats across the long table. The general and some of the White Knights were also here.

  Lennox and I sat on the other side of the long table—me at the head, and Lennox at my right side. On my left was Serena, a noble fae with beautiful cropped silver hair, who kept shooting me suggestive glances. Under the table, Lennox kicked my shins each time she munched on something and made little sounds, which should be reserved for bed only.