''Don't you remember, little flower?'' he asked, his voice low and melodic, ''Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.''
''Perhaps,'' I whispered, ''But Shakespeare was referring to a man...''
He cocked his head in confusion, his eyes growing darker...
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"Mara, sweetheart, if you don't stop pacing you're going to light the carpet on fire."
I lifted my head and glared at my mother. She raised her hands in surrender from where she sat at the table. Cedric had driven us about an hour north from the manor house and dropped us off at a coffee shop. Once he'd affirmed our safety, he left to gather more intel on the situation, leaving my mother and I with more questions. Hence, the pacing and hence my untouched cup of tea on the table.
"I don't understand," my mother began in a curious tone, "who exactly were those other..."
Her voice trailed off before she said 'faeries.' Like most parents, she'd agreed to love me no matter what. Though, up until I was about fifteen, she'd expected her only daughter to sprout wings and pointy ears. Even if I had, glamours were easy enough to learn and I could hide any extra appendages that came about- which did not stop her from freaking out and periodically checking for them.
Yeah, puberty was fun.
"Those were the Unseelie's," I explained, "the Winter court."
Her eyebrows narrowed, trying to remember the limited knowledge she had of faeries. Ask her about the Knicks? Better buckle down for a thirty-minute presentation. Ask her about the other half of her daughter's heritage? Cue cricket sounds.
The Unseelie courts- more commonly known now as the Autumn and Winter courts had long since been rivals of the Seelie courts (aka Spring and Summer). It was a rivalry that never really interested or pertained to me... until now, I suppose.
"Rhiwallon, your father, he mentioned them once," she looked around, "dark faeries."
I rolled my eyes at the ominous name and groaned a little, continuing to pace. "That would be them. Why the funeral?"
"What?"
"Why would they attack during his funeral?"
"Attack?" Her voice rose, "that was an attack?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. Instead, I nodded. My blood was pumping, rushing through my ears. It wasn't her fault she didn't know the extent of the situation we'd just escaped from. Yet, I was still irritated- and worried for the grandmother that I hardly knew.
She was a warrior. Unlike me, Queen Georgiana was a fighter. She didn't get whisked away before the fight. Nobody thought she was delicate or that she needed protection. I groaned again, falling into the seat across from my mom. Bringing the tea to my mouth, I resisted the urge to spit. It was cold.
"What did they want?"
I shrugged. "I don't know exactly. I'm guessing-"
But a powerful hand on my shoulder interrupted my response. I didn't have to look to know who it was. The energy he radiated was tinged a dark purple, swirling around him in anxious waves. I spun around to face him, desperate for answers.
