Half-Faye

Chapter 17

Mother’s P.O.V.

When I saw Florence leave that morning I did not think twice about it. She had been running about the city all week with Ridel and today was no exception. I was so happy that she hadn’t turned away from me and that all had been forgiven.

I was afraid that she might have been scarred to deeply.  Thankfully she wasn’t. Things had been a little awkward since then but there was no hatred. Today I was doing my business as usual, going to the palace library and just reading, wandering through the palace grounds or writing letters to my cousins who lived further abroad.

It was a dull life to say the least and I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to return to the mortal world. Not a day goes by when I don’t wish that I was back there living an exciting, if dangerous life. It was all because of my status in faery society. Traditions were so deeply ingrained in our world that it was hard to break free.

Most of all I felt sorry for my daughter who had to carry the burden of what she was, a half-faye. Never being able to fit in anywhere, always living on the edge of both societies. She deserved more pity than I did.

As it grew later I began to get worried. Florence and Ridel should have returned by now. The sky was already darkening. I was hardly reassured by the fact that Ridel was a royal soldier, after all his was still a child.

I went to bed assuming that they would just be coming home late. Maybe they had decided to go out and were going to spend some together. I could see how awkwardly they acted around each other and knew that there was something between them, even if they tried to hide it.

I was awoken in the middle of the night by one of my serving women.  I was a little taken aback but as she whispered to me in the darkness, her face lit by the warm light of her candle I hurried out of bed and rushed into some clothes.

I was shocked more than anything as I raced down the palace stairs into the throne room. It must have been well after midnight. The serving women’s words echoed in my head. Ridel had returned to the palace, and he had returned alone.

The worrying feeling in my gut deepened and I felt slightly sick. What was going on and where was my baby Florence?

I entered the room of marble and exquisite hangings to find my elderly father and mother sitting in their thrones with looks of pure worry on their faces. They were alone except for the young guard Ridel who was barely standing straight.

When I saw him up closer I could hardly conceal a gasp of shock. One of his cheeks was slashed open, he had a black eye and one of his arms was hanging limply by his side.  To say he looked terrible would be an understatement. I shivered, rubbing my hands up my arms.

Something terrible must have happened and I didn’t want to think about the state my daughter must have been in. We had only been together for a matter of days and I was looking forward to some good times ahead. I hoped that it wasn’t going to be cut short.

I sank into a seat and dared to ask, “What is happening?”

I looked at my parents, the king and queen, rather than Ridel. My father nodded and directed his question to Ridel, “boy, tell the duchess what is going on.”

He clenched his side as he spoke, “We were captured by some rogues,” he huffed, “they have sent me to retrieve something in return for the Duchess’s daughter.”

It was a very good thing that I was seated now. Had I been standing I certainly would collapsed on the spot.

“Then we must give them what they want,” I replied. I knew I should have acted stronger but I didn’t want to start a war. It would be so much easier to just give them what they want and let them go on their way. It was not like the royal family and any lack of gold or riches.

Ridel frowned, “Your highness, if only it were as simple as that.”

“What is it boy?” my mother said in a much more caring voice than my father.

He looked like he was having trouble breathing, “they want the Zyhd stone.”

This time I could not conceal my cry. I clutched at my breast and closed my fingers. Of all the things they had to demand.

My father replied at once and very sternly, “the stone was destroyed and besides we could never hand an object of its power over.”

Ridel’s face feel and my heart fluttered dangerously. It looked like war was the only option now and I dreaded the thought of young boys like Ridel getting caught up in something of little concern to them.

Then I remembered something, “The stone was not destroyed.”

I said it in a tone just above a whisper and felt everyone’s gaze turn to me and I swallowed. I had been young and foolish when I had taken it and now I didn’t know whether or not to regret my actions.

“What is the meaning of this?” my father snapped. A vein is his forehead was popping and his skin was turning a light shade of pink.

I pretended not to notice the disappointment in his voice. I was used to it by now being the “problem” child ever since I was so much younger.

“I took the stone before it could be destroyed. Please forgive me father but I was young and foolish and I believed that there may be a time when the land of Avalon needed its power again!”

I got to my feet feeling very flustered; it had been a long time since I had really ever gotten angry.

“There is no way we can hand over the stone to a bunch of rogues,” my mother said, “It would be suicide.”

“But my daughter,” I said weakly. Why did they not understand? Surely if it were I that had been captured that they would have done something immediately.

“I apologize but she is only a bastard child,” my father said frowning.

I was fuming with rage by now. How dare he call my child by such a cursive name?

Before I could interject Ridel cut across me, “Please your highness, Florence is as pure of blood as any faery and I fear what will happen if we don’t act soon. If you are not going to do anything I will march back and try to rescue her so now would be a good time to tell me anything you know.”

I had to admit that this boy had courage and I admired him for it. It was a silly idea to stand up to the king. My father looked very taken aback being told what to do by a young royal soldier and much of his anger was forgotten.

The poor boy was just received by blank stares, and shaking his head he began to limp away. I called out to him in a desperate plea, “The stone is in the mortal world.”

I ignored the glares of my parents. Ridel nodded, “thank you.”

All my hope rested on the shoulders of this one boy and for not just my sake I hope that he would survive the next few days of hell.