Page 68 of The Midnight King
Brantley, who has been quiet during the entire ordeal, turns to me. “You’re welcome to stay, Celinda. Even though we are no longer husband and wife, I consider you a friend.”
I take his hand in mine, squeezing it affectionately. “You are too good for this kingdom, Your Highness. Thank you for offering, but I’ll go with my stepsisters, just for a little while, to get them settled. After that, I think I’ll do some traveling.”
His gaze brightens. “I have some very informative books on travel, if you’d like to borrow them.”
I laugh and kiss his cheek. “Rule well, my dear friend.”
“Will you come to the coronation next week?” he inquires hopefully. “I need someone to stand at my side.”
“My presence would only stir up rumors again. That isn’t what you need right now, as you begin governing the kingdom. Besides, you already have someone to stand beside you.” I jerk my head slightly toward his bodyguard, standing a few paces away.
Brantley flushes and smiles. “I suppose you’re right. And I feel the presence of my father with me, too. The words he spoke at our wedding meant so much to me.”
I remember those last words, spoken not by the King himself, but by a kind-hearted Faerie who knew exactly what Brantley needed to hear from his father.
Killian has been busy for the past two days, guiding the events he set in motion, watching them unfold and interfering as needed. But I know that as soon as I leave the palace, I’ll see him again. So it’s with anticipation rather than sadness that I bid Brantley a final farewell and descend the steps that have become so familiar to me.
The roof of the carriage is piled high with bundles of things my sisters refused to relinquish, which Brantley graciously allowed them to keep. When I climb inside, Amisa is sobbing and Vashli is hurling vicious insults at her, at me, at the Prince, at the world.
The moment the carriage door closes, I speak to both of them in my sharpest tone. “I’m going back with you, but I’m not staying at Eisling House.”
“What?” Amisa blinks at me with huge, tear-filled eyes.
“You’re both adults,” I say. “You have the money Father left, and the rest of the money Gilda won. If you sell the treasures that the Prince let you keep, you should be able to make the necessary repairs to the house and the barn. Beyond that, the two of you will have to do actual work to support yourselves. It will be good for you. The labor of a household was never meant to fall on one person—it is supposed to be shared, a healthy exercise in maturity rather than an overwhelming burden. You’ll need to learn that, because I won’t be around to do everything for you.”
“How fucking dare you,” seethes Vashli. “You have nothing. Where will you go? What will you do?”
“That’s no longer any of your business,” I reply.
“You say we’ll have towork?” exclaims Amisa shrilly. “What kind of work?”
“First of all, you’ll have to tend the garden and the animals,” I say. “I expect you to take excellent care of them, do you understand? If you have questions, check with Worden or ask someone in town. During the drive home, I will explain to you everything I usually do, and I suggest you listen closely.”
For the next half hour, I give my stepsisters a long lecture, the length and detail of which would make Brantley proud. By the time we pull up in front of Eisling House, both of them are staring at me, astonished, clearly taken aback by the sheer amount of labor I was doing all by myself.
I glance out the window at the house where I grew up, the house where I was trapped for so many years, the house where my father spent his final miserable days. Then my gaze lands on a tall male figure lounging against the front door. He’s in Fae form—purple hair, pointed ears, and all. Despite the gray skies and freezing temperature, he isn’t wearing a coat—another sign that he’s not human.
My stomach does a happy little flip, and once I start grinning, I can’t stop. I leap out of the carriage and run to him, heedless of my stepsisters’ questions and exclamations.
Killian runs down the steps, and I race into his open arms. He lifts me off my feet and twirls me around, and I laugh, carried away with the joy of finally being free, and being together at last. I’m done with the palace, with this house, with my step-family. I have a new love and a new family, and with Killian’s magic, I can go anywhere.
When I glance over my shoulder, I notice the palace coachman stealing glances in our direction while he unloads the luggage. Vashli is marching toward us, fury in her gait, while Amisa lags behind, looking fearful.
“Who is that?” Vashli yells at me, then points a finger at Killian. “Whatareyou?”
Killian’s eyes glitter dangerously. “Someone who should destroy you where you stand, for the way you’ve treated the woman I love.”
Vashli halts. Amisa bumps into her, then clings to her sister’s arm.
“I’m going to the barn for a minute,” I say.
“I’ll be right here,” Killian replies, still glaring at my stepsisters.
Taking another look at the two of them, I mutter to Killian, “I hate leaving it all in their hands, especially the animals.”
“I know. But most animals from this realm don’t last long in Faerie. Except for cats. Cats are always a little more Fae than other animals. Some kinds of dogs adapt well, too.”
His comment gives me an idea, so after saying my goodbyes to the cows, the goats, the chickens, and Lord Hogmorton, I run into the house and fetch a tin of fish. Then I crouch on the back step and open it.