Zephyr tried to catch Lily’s hand to stop her, but she jerked away. He explained, “In fae culture, the highest ranked sits first. Eilidh is the heir to both the Seelie and Unseelie courts. She was born to take the Hidden Throne.”
But Patches offered her a small, sad smile and said, “Zephyr is correct. The highest ranking among us sits first. It is a court tradition that has resulted in many frivolous quarrels.” Then she met Lily’s gaze and said, “Take your seat, Lilywhite, so we can all sit as well.”
Both of the fae boys gaped at Patches. The guard looked at Lily again and then at Patches. “Is this . . . ? This is our sister’s child? You didn’t think to share your knowledge of her?”
Lily lowered herself into the chair, not sure if shock was settling in or if she was imagining the implications of the guard’s words. “Your sister?” she echoed in a voice that cracked.
“You see why I protected her secrets, Rhys?” Eilidh said, taking her seat.
“Does Mother know?” the guard, Rhys, asked. He and the other fae boy sat in almost perfect synchronicity.
Lily was still trying to sort out a different explanation in the words that she was hearing. Patches couldn’t be her aunt. For that to be true, her mother would have to be . . . the baby, the one whose death started the long years of attacks on humanity by order of the Queen of Blood and Rage.
“The queen’s baby died,” Lily said. “Everyone says as much. Even in the book my mother left . . .”
Patches shot her a sympathetic glance. “No, the book says that the queen believed the baby dead. She never found her daughter.”
“My mother.” Lily felt like her lungs couldn’t fill. “My mother is the baby who started the war? She is the lost heir?”
“I’m sorry for keeping so much from you.” Patches motioned to the guard, who sat on her left. “This is Rhys. My brother. Before my sister was born, Rhys would’ve been the King of Unseelie.” She motioned to the fae on her right. “This is my betrothed, Torquil.”
Lily swallowed, her mind racing to process everything she’d been told. “And what are we, Patches?”
“I am your aunt. My sister was your mother.”
The thought that her childhood friend was her aunt was almost too much to process. This stern faery was her uncle, and the queen . . . Lily stopped herself, not willing to finish the thought. Being the granddaughter of the woman who had shed so much blood was something she couldn’t begin to fathom.
While Lily sat silently, Eilidh glanced briefly at the boys. “I don’t know who your parents were, so I cannot tell you which of you is of higher rank.”
“That’s not why we’re . . .” Zephyr started, stopped, and sat. He looked over at Creed. “Did you know?”
He shook his head. “I just knew Eilidh because she came to me and asked that I attend Lily’s birthday party. She’d brought me an invitation from Lily’s dad.”
“You sent him?” Lily asked her aunt. “I thought Daidí . . .” Her words drifted off as pieces clicked into place for her. “Daidí knows you. He knew you were real when I was a child, and . . .” She shook her head, as if the motion would help her sort the facts into the right order. “I don’t understand.”
Creed ignored the chairs entirely and stayed standing at Lily’s side, despite Zephyr’s glare and Torquil’s slight tilt of head indicating that he found the action curious.
“Stand down, child. I mean my niece nothing but amity,” Rhys said quietly. “There are those who will want to kill her. I am not one of them.”
“Child?” Lily echoed. “How old are you?”
“Age is relative to the fae, niece.” His lips curved in a slight smile. “We’ll simply say that I remember the day Mother decided to kill every human standing on the sand. I remember when your mother was a child new in my mother’s womb and the queen had another name. I remember before that when I was her heir for many years, back when the thought of allying with the Seelie Court would have been called treason.” He looked back at Creed. “Sit. Your point is made.”
“His point?” Lily felt foolish repeating everything, but there were too many new truths to accept so quickly.
“He has just declared his loyalty,” Eilidh said. “Not to the queen. Not to her named heir.” She pointed at herself and then to Rhys as she added, “Or to the Unseelie prince. Creed has declared that his fealty is to you, Lilywhite. Should there be a drawing of sides, his is already stated.”
“No! We’re not familiar with fae customs, and—”
Creed cut her off, “I am quite familiar, Lily. You might not be, but every Sleeper was taught about fae customs and culture.”
“I want no part of this,” Lily told Eilidh and Rhys. “I want to be at home with my father. He is my father, isn’t he?”
“Iana would never answer that,” Eilidh said. “I asked.”
“But if I am Daidí’s, then I’m only half-fae . . . you’re still the heir, right?” Lily reached out and took Creed’s hand. Despite everything she’d decided, right now Lily needed his support.
At her touch, Creed sat on the empty chair beside her, keeping her hand in his. “I didn’t know about this, Lily,” he whispered. “I promise. I didn’t know you knew her or any of it.”
She nodded. “Eilidh?”
“Creed does not lie,” Rhys said.
“The Queen of Blood and Rage knew you by name, knew you were one of her Seven Black Diamonds. She summoned you, Lily. If there’s anyone who has more answers, it’s our queen,” Zephyr said firmly.
“Not my queen,” Lily and Creed said in unison.
Torquil finally spoke. “This will be fun.”
“By fun, do you mean likely to result in bloodshed?” Rhys asked.
At that, Torquil scowled. “Yes.”
“If I were fae, not fae-blood but true fae, wouldn’t I be like you?” Lily asked all of them.
At first, there was only silence, but then Rhys turned his attention to her and asked, “How many affinities do you have, Lilywhite Abernathy?”
She could feel words being pulled to her lips as soon as he asked, as if he could summon the answer from her by sheer will. Her body wanted to answer, her lips were already opening to share truth she’d rather not offer. She clamped her mouth closed, teeth cutting into her tongue as she bit down to force herself not to reply.
Abernathy Commandment #7: Secrets are valuable. Don’t part with them for free. Abernathy Commandment #6: Never confess your vulnerabilities if you can avoid it. She repeated the commands over and over in her mind to keep from answering Rhys, to keep the words from slipping from her against her will and wish.
It wasn’t enough.
Without meaning to, her energy flung out in defense. The chair he was in became a prison, steadily enclosing him, but Rhys didn’t resist the plants that were wrapping tighter and tighter around his body. They started at his feet and began lashing around him like living whips.
“Earth . . . ? And?” Rhys prompted. He glanced down at the vines and briefly smiled.