Set before the birth of Meghan, but after Ariella's death.
In retrospect, it probably hadn't been a good idea to ride a tropical cyclone into Queen Mab's bedchambers.
I hadn't even know that a winter court existed, let alone where it was. I don't really know anything about the rest of faery, the rest of the Nevernever. I had been raised in a remote corner of the wyldwood, and never wanted to explore any further. The wyldwood had been my home for as long as I remember, and the perpetual, murky twilight had was comforting. Comparatively the winter territory had been terrifying, yes, but also beautiful, in a frozen, pristine, eerie and still way. How everything was covered in a layer of pure white snow, how the icicles hanging from the branches reflected the light and sparkled in the dawn.
Of course I hadn't really seen a whole lot of it, causing a tropical storm, tearing up trees and a few stray redcaps. The redcaps and ogres didn't scare me, the real terrifying thing was me. Out of control.
So while I hadn't seen a whole lot of Tir Na Nog on the way in, I had been given a window with a lovely view.
My cell window, that is.
Mab was too busy to see me right now, so I figured while I was still alive I should enjoy the beauty around me. Even if it was bitterly, bitterly cold. The cold numbed my body from the inside out, turning my fingers blue and my mouth white. It chilled me to the bone.
You could feel the rage of the Winter Queen pulsing through the stones beneath. The hate and malice coursing through the cell was overwhelming, and it took a huge amount of energy to pointedly stare out the window rather than allow my gaze to flit around the room nervously scanning for the dreaded brickwork monster who would lunge out of the floor and drag me to a dusty grave. The whole realm reflected Mab's mood, so I could tell how good my chances of survival were by looking at the weather.
And watching the relentless storm outside, I would say my chances were close to zero.
There was a huge screech as the heavy wooden door was creaked open with a groan. Soft treads entered the room, and I heard the rustle of clothing.
I closed my eyes.
"Queen Mab will see you now." Spoke a deep melodic voice. It reverberated round my skull as I breathed slowly and deeply, trying to hide my sweaty palms. Panic was reigning inside of me, filling every pore, threatening to take over. If I didn't get this over and done with soon, I was going to lose it. I took a therapeutic breath, and turned to face the speaker.
It was all I could do to stop my jaw from dropping. He was so achingly handsome, dark and tall. He had cold green eyes, like slivers of ice. He was toned and lean, built like a dancer and obviously athletic. His face was pointed, regal and arrogant, and I knew with an unfamiliar surety that he was a noble. Dressed all in black with a thin sword hung from his waist, he was certainly lethal. Probably trained from birth to kill. He would not be my executioner though, I had been assured that Mab would want to do that herself. I eyed him warily. He stared back with indifference.
I stood slowly, not entirely trusting my feet, but not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing me use the wall to support me, even though I wanted to. I did not smooth my tangled hair, but instead adjusted my manacles as if they were dainty bangles. The dark knight raised a thin eyebrow but said nothing. I jerked my head in a nod.
"Let's not keep her waiting then." He inclined his head, but yet again remained silent. He offered his black clad arm to me in a gentlemanly gesture. I hesitated- was this a cruel trick? I was a prisoner, I was to die. Was he simply allowing me a last act of kindness? Nobody in the Winter Court had been kind so far, and I didn't think it was in there natures to be so.
"Well are you going to take it or not?" He sounded mildly curious. Tentatively I took his arm, and he led me out of the room. We swept through corridors and up and down stairways and swooping balconies. We appeared to be taking the scenic route.
I clanked and slipped and cursed silently under my breath, making such a racket as my chains were dragged behind me. I did not bother to pick them up. My escort glided silently beside me, never slipping on the patches of treacherous ice that I fell prey to. Nor did he complain when he steadied me again and again.
The temperature continued to drop, until I was shaking so hard that the dark boys arm was the only thing keeping me upright. My breath rose in tangible clouds of silvery white in front of me, and when i inhaled it felt like sucking in a torrent of fire.
We finally came to a halt in front of a magnificent gilded archway, through which was the throne room. The cold and aloof winter fey were milling around the area before the throne, watching me with cruel amusement.
"Off you go then." My escort motioned forward. I looked on confused. Wouldn't he follow me, to make sure I wouldn't escape, or attack someone? Maybe they knew I wouldn't be able to. Fear coiled in my stomach. I walked slowly forward, the hem of my cloak whispering against the ground. The fey watched me, eyes narrowed in scrutiny as they searched for a hint of emotion. I kept my face blank, though as I caught some knowing sneers I knew I had fooled no-one. Thankfully the floor was made of marble, not ice. Familiar shadows flitted at the edge of my vision, enticing me onward to my death. Somewhere during the death march, my shackles fell away, and all fell silent as I glided towards the woman upon her frozen throne. Mab was how I had imagined her, cold and breathtakingly beautiful, only a thousand times more so. Her dark hair fell loosely around her shoulder, and her depthless eyes regarded me cooly. Her lips were twisted into a cruel smile. Her glamour radiated from her, and swirled around me, trying to influence my mind. I brushed the frigid tendrils away, and came to stop before the throne.
Behind her stood three fey boys, all ridiculously handsome, all nobles. Probably Princes. They were all garbed in silver and black, and carried thin swords wreathed in mist at their waists. My escort stood directly to Mab's right, and had an expression I could only describe as sympathy. The second was shorter and stockier, and glanced laughingly at me. The third was slightly taller than the second, and the best at hiding his emotions it seemed, because he looked bored. Maybe he was.
I did not kneel before Mab or bow as perhaps I should have done. Instead we regarded each other, my deep green eyes surveying hers. Her long fingernails tapped against her wine glass. Fevered mutterings broke out among the crowd about the girl who would not bow to their Queen, the summer fey that had dared to attack their Queen.
"So." She spoke at last. So, I echoed in my mind.
"We meet at last." Indeed.
She rose and stalked slowly towards me, her gown falling with effortless grace to the floor below her. She stepped off her dias, and gripped my chin with her taloned fingers. I eyed her nails warily, I wondered if she had had them sharpened for the event. She was not much taller than me, I realised. My head was jerked up so I looked her in the eye. I willed myself to hold her gaze.
"Did your Father really think he could hide you from me?" She asked softly. Was she talking about Tieran, the centaur who raised me in the wyldwood? Now that it occurred to me, he had hidden me- why? Mab looked at me sardonically, expecting an answer.
"Who are you talking about?" She laughed, a short burst of harsh sound, and let go of my face. Alongside her the court laughed as well, save for two of princes behind the throne.
"Come now child. Your father. The ruler of the Seelie Court." My brows pulled together in confusion. Tieran definitely hadn't been a ruler of this... Seelie Court, a court of which I had no knowledge whatsoever.
"Forgive me Lady Mab, but I know nothing of this Seelie Court, nor of it's ruler." My frosty tone put a stop to the laughter resounding round the room.
"I would name you a liar."
"We both know that fey cannot lie." She dismissed the fact almost instantly.
"So you're half human. Oberon had an affair with a human. He has before, and then hid you in the wyldwood." I shook my head in anger at her assumptions. My skin began to grow warm.
"Nonsense. What makes you so sure that I am his daughter anyway?" I challenged. "You have no proof." The room cackled.
"Only blood of Oberon could have created a cyclone that powerful." Subtly, ever so subtly, my clenched fist began to smoke. I had to get out now.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked bluntly.
"Of course not."
"Then I'm going." I turned, and began to leave the way I came. My fists were smoking profusely, and my body was sending off heat in huge waves.
"Without your sword?" Mab called out innocently.
It wasn't my sword, not really. It had belonged to Tieran, and it was the last thing I had of him. I had always admired the woven leather pommel, and how Tieran could so easily wield the iron blade, even though it would burn him if he made one tiny slip. What could only be guards slipped into the room, blocking the exits. Faces watched me, waiting for me to snap. Mab had passed the sword to the middle of the princes, the one who had sneered at me earlier. He made a great show of examining the weapon, being careful not to touch the iron. He cast it aside disdainfully, prodding it with his 'superior' weapon. He kicked it away.
I snarled indignantly, and let the heat that had been building inside of me come forward. My very skin set alight, and my hair became the flame itself. Winter fey lunged away, but the petty court didn't matter. I would take Tieran's sword, and make my first kill by driving it through that insolent boy's heart. I flew across the room like an angry whirlwind, spitting out fire and screaming senseless things. The haughty prince had frozen in fear, and I bore on to him, allowing the fire to transform me into something I was not, twisting my face, giving me fiery fangs. I picked up the Tieran's sword, and the associated memories almost choked me. Dimly I remember Mab rushing across to stop the lethal blow that I could easily give to her son, but she need not have worried. I would not kill him. Because I remember Tieran, and his kind gentleness, and how he brought out that beautiful mercy inside of me too. And all of a sudden I felt very tired.
The licking flames faded away, and I stood in the center of the charred floor. Mab was bristling, and the nobles eyed me warily, but with a begrudging respect. Momentarily panicked, I took a quick head count and was relieved to find that I had killed no-one. I took no pleasure in killing. My hair was sodden, and I looked to the ceiling to find the icicles considerably smaller than before.
"I'll be leaving now." I said hollowly.
"You dare-"
"Yes. I do." I answered simply.
"Guards." The knights swarmed around me. I kept a tight grip on my sword but held it at my side. For now I was weary, and wanted only to rest. They overwhelmed and restrained me.
"You will be held here till Elysium." Great, another faery term I had no clue about.
"Perhaps then your father will barter for your freedom."
The prince, who I later learnt was called Rowan, branded my back with his glare as I was marched away.
Great. Just Great.