Page 50 of Fae Tithe

He’ll kill us. Or kill them and keep me. Blood roared in Eleanor’s ears as she watched the two monarchs stare each other down.

Eleanor noticed that the Manor Guards who survived the Merman’s wave were once again standing unsteadily to their feet, all soaked and flecked with salt. Five of them remained, and three lay collapsed, splayed at awkward angles on the tiles by the wall.

“Diplomatically, you say?” Rian’s lip curled. “Then you will diplomatically get out of my kingdom and return to the sea.”

“My daughter and Bound come with me,” Lance growled, showing his fangs.

Eleanor, now a Changeling, felt her heart swell with love and pride as she heard the Merman say ‘daughter’.

“Agreed,” Rian said. He waved his hand at the remaining guards, who were circling the family.

Eleanor’s heart hammered with panic as a Manor Guard tapped the water ward with the hilt of his sword. It flickered, dropping for a moment, before reforming again.

“I will drown you if try to touch them,” Lance snarled at the guard, before turning back to the King. “We are leaving, now.”

I’ve never heard him sound like that before. Eleanor trembled in the High Prince’s shadow. She breathed a sigh of relief as the guard took a step back, his jaw slack. Thank the Fae.

“There is the Seafolk savagery I am more accustomed to,” King Rian sneered. “Now, get out.”

Eleanor felt Helena shift as Lance took a step closer, and she found herself firmly positioned between the pair as they were escorted out of Tithe Manor.

Helena felt a rush of magic reverberate at her back as the gate of Tithe Manor slammed shut behind her. A pulse rippled as the ward set itself in place, forcing the group stumbling forward. The late morning sun beat down on her head. Helena licked her lips, mouth parched and head pounding.

We’re out, she breathed, relief flooding her limbs.

Helena limped forward, tugging her daughter down the closest laneway, dodging a group of rushing, uniformed faeries. Lance shadowed their steps, his ward still in place around them. They stopped, clinging to each other in the cooler shade of the buildings. Eleanor’s face pressed against her, sobbing into Helena’s torn, bloody clothing.

“I knew you would come for me,” the Changeling wept onto her shoulder.

“Always. I will always come for you,” Helena promised.

She cupped either side of Eleanor’s face with her hands. Helena tilted her daughter’s downcast head upwards so she could study her. She had already been taller than her mother, but now it seemed that her height had been stretched again. Eleanor’s face was now sharper, more angular. Her pimples and freckles were gone, and all that remained was smooth perfection. The only features that Helena could recognise on Eleanor’s face that marked her as her daughter were her matching rosebud lips and the identical arch of her eyebrows. Everything else was different. Helena looked at her daughter’s eyes. Within the irises swirled a starburst of brilliant silver, making the dark pupils more prominent and the blue more defined. Lastly, she took in her ears. The pointed tips peeked through her hair, showing her to be Fae-kind.

Helena wiped away her daughter’s tears. “I need to know. Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? Did anyone touch you?”

“I did get hurt, but no one touched me in that way, Mum. There was this faerie with healing magic and...” Eleanor’s eyes widened as they drifted down her mother’s face and neck. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“We fought the guards, trying to get to your bedroom.” Helena turned her head to Lance.

The Merman slumped against wall next to them, finally dismissing the water ward with a wave of his hand. Barely on his feet, his sweating head leant back against the brick, eyes shut tight. Helena watched as the High Prince’s chest heaved, his nostrils flaring at the effort, as though he could not get enough air.

How could you lie to me? She clenched her jaw. After all this time?

Of all that was revealed to the Seelie Court, the only thing Helena had known about was his enthusiasm to get married – or ‘Bound’ as he called it. He had brought it up over the years, and she had been amenable to it, as it meant so much to him, despite her disastrous first marriage. With this latest revelation, though, Helena knew she needed to have a serious conversation with her Merman. They had a lot to talk about.

Eleanor turned her wet face to Lance. “Th-thank you,” she stuttered.

“Of course,” he replied, opening his eyes, his voice hoarse. “Like your mother, I would always come for you, fight for you. I wasn’t lying to the Seelie Court. I see you as my daughter. Nothing would change that.”

“You’re the only father I know, Lance, and I’m so happy it’s you.” A weak smile spread across Eleanor’s face.

Despite herself, Helena felt a pang of joy at the tender moment. Lance stood straight. She bristled under his gaze as he studied the wounds on her face, neck, and knuckles.

Lance reached his hand to her, a failing, blue glow in his palm. “Len, can I—”

“I don’t want you touching me right now,” she hissed, recoiling back.

Helena levelled him a seething look, and he dropped his hand, a wounded expression on his face. She had no idea what to say to him after all the revelations in front of the Seelie Court. She pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes throbbing beneath her closed lids, the pounding sting of betrayal aligning with her pulse.