A part of her had plotted ways to convince them to run with her. Surely her father could hide them! But even as she thought that, she wondered if she was being foolish to think there was a way to escape the fae.
She wasn’t going to give up though. She’d spent hours imagining potential scenarios. Daidí had contingency plans, and those plans had contingency plans. Surviving when there were factions who wanted you dead or imprisoned taught a man to think beyond the obvious—and that man had taught her. Unfortunately, contingency plans were sometimes unappealing. Her best bet would be a move to the South Continent, and being there would be safest if she stayed with Erik’s family. She might not want to become the next Se?ora Gaviria, but she trusted Erik and his father. Even if she outright told Se?or Gaviria that she would never marry Erik, he would still take her in and keep her safe—and the Gavirias were even more intense about security than Daidí.
Inside the garden, Lily turned to Creed. “There’s no one here.”
“Wait,” he said quietly. He looked around and led Lily toward a ring of stones and what appeared to be toadstools.
Lily’s panic level shot up. There was only one reason to wait beside a ring, and that was because you were waiting for someone to come through from the Hidden Lands. She swallowed, the sound seeming loud in the dark garden.
Zephyr stepped up so he was on Lily’s other side. He looked at Creed and muttered, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
They stood in awkward silence for another three or four minutes before the ground seemed to shimmer off to the side of them. The gateway to the Hidden Lands was opening, and with it came a burst of sugar-scented air. Acrid tinges wove throughout the sweet notes, and Lily couldn’t help but think of the single-malt that her father sometimes sipped. He’d told her once that the burnt scent was peat, and that it reminded him of her mother. As she stood here tonight inhaling that very aroma, she had to wonder if his late-night admission had meant more than she’d realized.
As the shimmer solidified, the scent faded, and there in front of them were three actual, true fae. They were obviously of the purest fae lines, as they were all preternaturally tall and terrifyingly gorgeous. Nothing in humanity could compare to them. It was why being beautiful was often the first reason people were accused of being fae-blood. If money or other excuses couldn’t explain the beauty, it could earn a person the sort of attention that led to imprisonment.
Lily gasped, not because of their beauty, but because of the three faeries who stepped out of the circle, not all were unknown to her. Only two were strangers. Aside from being well over six feet in height, both boys were filled with light. Both bowed, to her specifically, and then they stepped backward one step.
There, between them and slightly in front of them, stood a third faery, someone Lily had thought existed only in her mind. She was older now, but there was no doubt that the faery in front of them was a grown-up version of Lily’s childhood playmate—her imaginary friend.
“Patches?” Lily asked, even though it had to be her. No one else had the same strange weblike pattern over her skin. She looked like she’d been broken into tiny pieces and reassembled, her seams left visible in the process.
“Lily,” she said softly.
Lily stared at her, and then looked at Creed. “You know my . . . You know her?”
“I do.” He kneeled.
Zephyr was already on his knees, head bowed. He had been since the moment the faeries took shape. He glanced up at her and ordered, “Kneel, Lilywhite.”
Before Lily could point out that she owed no loyalty to these three, Patches said, “No. Lily is not to kneel before me. Ever.”
Lily folded her arms over her chest and glared at the girl she’d thought was imaginary. “You have some explaining to do.”
Patches laughed, and for a fraction of a moment, Lily wanted to hug her. This was her oldest, her only female friend until meeting Alkamy and Violet. With Patches, Lily had felt free and safe and normal. With her, Lily had felt like she was invincible, despite the fear she had over the strange things she could do, things that Daidí and Patches both made her swear to hide.
But this wasn’t the child who had played hide-and-seek in the garden at the Abernathy Estate. This was a faery. This was someone who had made her believe things that weren’t true, who had lied to her and left her. Lily squeezed her arms tighter to her chest and frowned.
“Please rise,” Patches said to Zephyr and Creed. Then she glanced at the taller of the two fae boys with her. “Are we safe here?”
He was as intensely alert in the way of all of the bodyguards that Lily had known over the years, and she knew for certain that he was a guard or militia of some sort. He was also frighteningly beautiful: eyes that could be mistaken for ice chips, a face more suited to gods than mortals, and muscles that spoke of hours of training every day. He looked at Patches and nodded. The movement made his pale-blond hair slide forward. It was so pale that, from a distance, Lily suspected that his hair would look like a halo.
“Would you sit with me?” Patches asked.
As she spoke, vines rose up, twisted and braided until flowering chairs were sprouting from the garden. Forming seats from earth was something Lily had managed, but not six chairs simultaneously.
At Lily’s side, Zephyr was glaring at Creed like he was a stranger. Both boys came to their feet, standing on either side of Lily much as Patches’ fae boys flanked her. It was all so very formal, reminding Lily of the sort of contract negotiations she’d attended with her father. When both houses wanted to establish their authority, every word mattered; every gesture spoke.
When she glanced at Zephyr, though, she saw that his eyes were full of accusations and betrayal. All he managed to say was, “Do you know who she is?”
“Eilidh. Rhymes with Kayley and Bailey. Apparently not a fan of her royal entity of vengeance.” Creed shrugged, but Lily heard the tension in his voice that he was trying to hide.
Creed was nervous, but Zephyr obviously couldn’t see it. He snapped, “How could you keep this from me?”
In the next heartbeat, Zephyr punched him hard enough that Creed stumbled back.
Creed raised his hand to his jaw, winced slightly, and told Zephyr, “First one’s free. After that . . .”
“You disrespected our queen. You have no right to speak to the—”
“She’s not my queen,” Creed interrupted.
“Or mine,” Lily added.
“You’re all wrong,” Eilidh said. “But only as much as you’re right.” She sighed quietly. “Creed said you needed to see me, Lily, that you were ready for the answers I have.”
Everyone had remained standing, even though there were braided chairs of vine and root there beside them. The two fae boys watched them all intently.
“Please.” Patches gestured for Lily to sit first.