Cayla Kluver - The Queen's Choice

“Go to him,” Ubiqua laughed, tipping her head in Davic’s direction, aware that she no longer held my attention. “You and I can talk later.”

In need of no convincing, I hurried to my promised. He’d come to his feet, and he snatched the hand I extended to haul me onto the dais and into his arms. I laughed, wrapping my legs around his waist when he picked me up and holding his face for a lengthy kiss that was continually disrupted by our smiles.

“I almost forgot what you looked like,” he teased, pushing our foreheads together. Our pose, somewhat unseemly for a royal and her partner, nevertheless charmed the assembly and drew a few shouts. We both turned scarlet and hid our faces in each other’s shoulders, then Davic returned to his seat, taking me with him.

“I missed you, too,” I murmured, settling against him and twining our fingers together. Soon I felt the heat of someone’s gaze; I turned and exchanged a warm nod with my father, then took his hint that I should move to my own chair. I kept Davic’s palm snug against mine while I scanned the empty seats, making note of who else was missing—Zabriel, the long absent Prince of Chrior; and my cousin Illumina, the orphaned daughter of Queen Ubiqua’s brother.

Leaning close to Davic, I asked, “Where is Illumina?”

Though I could have guessed his answer from his resigned look, I waited for him to confirm it.

“She only stayed for an hour, maybe less. At least she was here for a while. Let’s not dwell on her tonight.”

I nodded, for Illumina’s lack of participation was not unexpected. Quiet, studious and easily overshadowed, she avoided crowds to whatever extent possible. Still, I would have liked for her to be here. Not only was she a niece of the Queen, she was also heir to the throne due to the Prince’s defection, and learning to connect with the people was an important part of her future.

Davic and I did not have much opportunity to talk during the festivities, and we were glad when Ubiqua called her Court to a close and we could fly to the branches of the Great Redwood where I made my home. Davic also had an alcove in the mighty tree, though his family had no interest in Court life and lived far on the other side of Chrior. There was only one section of the Redwood that was unoccupied, a place where the branches were dry and dead and could hold little weight. The destruction was viewed as a tragedy and rarely discussed, but from what I understood, a fire had defiled our people’s ancient refuge.

My residence was a small place, but practical. Davic walked the perimeter of the main room, focusing on the energy inside himself as he ran his finger along the love-carved indentation to spark and ignite it. Finished, he fell onto the sofa, putting his hands behind his head. The house warmed at once, and I curled up beside him, breathing in his familiar scent, musky with an undercurrent of Tanya flowers, which only grew on this side of the Road. The whole evening I hadn’t given a thought to how truly tired I was, but now I relaxed, the heaviness in my limbs a reminder of how little I had slept the past few days.

“Well?” Davic asked after a bit. “How was the human world this time?”

“I made it to Tairmor before you called me back,” I replied, offering him a smirk. “You’re impatient, Davic.”

He brushed my auburn hair behind my shoulder and kissed my forehead. “How long would you have been gone if I hadn’t called you?”

“I wanted to see Sheness, the port city. A few more weeks.”

His countenance grew wary, lips pursing and eyes slightly widening. He was the worrier of the two of us, and his expression was endearing in its predictability.

“Anya, your father has warned against Fae traveling that far west. He says there’s been a resurgence of piracy over the past year.”

“I’m aware of my father’s warnings.” I gave his hair a playful tug, making it difficult for a scowl to emerge. “But pirates surely don’t lurk around every corner in Sheness, waiting to attack. They have their business, and I would have had mine. I do know what I’m doing out there. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. I didn’t go near the port.”

“You’re not invincible, you know.” He was looking at me sideways, not yet pacified. This was a variance we’d had before—he meant well, but he had a hard time trusting anything if it was beyond Chrior’s borders, including me.

I chuckled. “Of course I’m not invincible, but Fae are more powerful than humans, and we have our elements to protect us. Anyone who tried to hurt me would be swept away by a wall of water before they could blink, while I flew away to the rooftops.” My point stood even though that wasn’t exactly how Fae connections worked. We had to rely on physically present matter that we could move and manipulate rather than conjuring our elements, but for me that matter could include blood and mist as easily as rain or river water, leaving me with a lot of power at my disposal. “Try not to be such a killjoy when everything is, at present, perfect.”

He rolled his eyes, but I felt his body relax against mine. I plucked at the fabric of his shirt, nervous about the confession I was about to make. “I was a little worried, though, that something might be wrong when I felt your call.”

Davic and I had been promised by a mage, the same mage who had wed my aunt and her husband, and the aura that bound us let us reach out to one another no matter how far apart we were. I’d felt the tug from Davic in Tairmor, the capital of the Warckum Territory, and had started home at once.

He chewed his lip, looking adorable as he made a bid for clemency. “Are you annoyed? I was thinking about you, and next I knew I’d signaled you before I’d even decided whether or not I should. If you’re upset with me, I’ll say I’m sorry it happened. Really.”

“Aww, you’d say whatever I’d like to hear to save your own hide? You’re so sweet.” I shoved him, not upset in the least. Our bond was still fresh, and it would take time to adapt to its intricacies.

He let out a relieved breath, then played with my hair. His thoughts traveled over his face in what he believed to be a private course, though his ultimate expression told me he had landed on the matter I’d hoped he’d leave alone until the morning at least.

“Do you ever get homesick out there? I mean, you stay away for so long. I just wonder if...you don’t like coming back.”

Without fail, this conversation followed my returns and preceded my departures. Unlike me, Davic was content in Chrior, with no interest in journeying. He hadn’t even been on his Crossing, the traditional rite of passage for young Fae. Following my Crossing, I’d developed a taste for the human world, a wanderlust that not even my promised’s pleading could overcome, and certainly one that he had trouble understanding.

“The fact that I enjoy being in the Territory doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being here.”

“You spend more time in the human world than you do here.” Preempting my response, he added, “I’m not trying to stop you from traveling, but it seems to me that spending time with me and your friends, with your father, is something you just tolerate until you can leave again.”

Why couldn’t we have a pleasurable reunion and leave it at that?

“It’s not being away from you I enjoy, Davic. It’s seeing what’s out there, what’s different about how the humans live. How the politics move and shift.” I frowned, lost in thought. “For instance, there’s something different about the mood in the Territory right now. I don’t know what exactly, but I was seeing more Constabularies and military units. Maybe the Governor is just cracking down on crime. If he keeps it up, my father won’t have much to warn about in a few months.”