Their discussion about Fen’s clothing was suddenly thrown off track as a familiar voice exclaimed amusedly, “What? The barista? What has he dragged you here for?!”

Fen blinked. Aren had materialized out of thin air, seeming, apparently having arrived late, and therefore not been among the guests that he and Mercy had personally received. “Didn’t you read the invitation, Aren?” he asked, annoyedly.

Aren’s gaze was trained on Mercy, without so much as a glance at Fen as he replied, “No, I saw something about a party, and you never have parties anymore, so I thought I definitely needed to come!” Finally, his eyes slid over to his boss and king, and he started slightly. “What? Oh gods! What happened to you?!”

The fey king sighed tiredly. He really didn’t have the energy for any more of this tonight.

Mara took it upon herself to answer, “She can use magic, and is quite the healer. From what I gather, being healed led to a growth spurt for Fen, and the restoration of his wings."

“What?!” Aren gasped.

“She can see spirits, too. Once her magic woke, they were drawn to her.” Fen sighed, crossing his arms. “It seemed wisest to bring her here."

“I…see.” Aren was quiet for a few moments, clearly processing this new information.

Much to his surprise, Mercy spoke up, asking, “You’re Aren, right?”

Aren’s gaze turned back to Mercy, and a flirtatious sort of smile immediately formed on his face. Annoyance flooded Fen, and he curled his hand into a fist on the table, trying to keep his temper in check. Mercy wasn’t his. He had no right to dictate who spoke to her, though he wanted to tell Aren to f*ck off and leave her alone.

“Yes! I guess my reputation precedes me?” he grinned rakishly.

“I wouldn’t know about that.” Mercy blinked, “But I do recognize you from the coffee shop.”

Another familiar voice spoke up. It was Amilee, “Oh, it looks like I'm the last one to arrive!"

“Oh you made it!” Mercy beamed at the doctor.

“Sorry I’m late, I had a pregnancy-related emergency.” his cousin grimaced.

“That’s alright, pregnant ladies take precedence over parties.” Fen assured her. “I’m glad you could make it at all.”

“So...you healed Fen's burns?" Aren asked Mercy, drawing them both back to the topic at hand.

“Um, yes.” Mercy seemed suddenly self-conscious.

“And then has helped me through the horrendous growth spurts.” Fen muttered.

“Sit with us, Amilee!” Cecily chirped.

“You can sit too, I guess, Aren.” Astrid said coolly, motioning a chair next to her.

Aren hesitated, then sat. Ever since Astrid had shot down his unwanted attentions and flirtations down in a very public, brutal way, he’d been a bit shy of her. It had been such a sight to see, but had taught him a lesson in how to flirt appropriately. Unfortunately, Aren hadn’t learned it particularly well, but he did hold back a little more than he used to. Micah and Aren were not all that different, but Micah would stop flirting when asked, and wouldn't do it again, not wanting to make someone uncomfortable. Aren, on the other hand, often would ‘forget’ and take it up again.

Amilee slid into the empty chair on Fen’s other side, a welcome presence instead of a tenuous one.

Mercy leaned forward, catching his cousin’s eye and asking hopefully, “Amilee, can I get your phone number so we can text?”

“Of course!” Amilee smiled. “I’ll put it in your phone.”

Mercy passed the device over, and Amilee quickly created herself as a contact.

“Me next!” Astrid cried.

“Me too!” Cecily agreed eagerly.

“I don’t have one.” Mara shrugged. “But Astrid will pass anything on to me as needed.”

“I don’t have one either.” Micah sighed dramatically.

“I do.” Aren grinned flirtatiously at Mercy.

She blinked, but looked away, not commenting. Fen had a feeling she was uncomfortable. “Aren.” he said in a warning tone.

“What? I’m not being inappropriate!”

“You don’t know her.”

“I know her better than the rest of them!” Aren snorted, motioning at Astrid and her friends,

“Don’t count on that.” Astrid said evenly, “She’s been here for a while now and I definitely know her better than you. As does Fen.”

Aren ignored her, “You know, I still don’t know your name! Which is a pity, since you look like a goddess and I really should know who to pray to.”

Mercy made a slight face, but replied, “My name is Mercy.”

“That’s an odd name, isn’t it?” Aren tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t think so, it’s just my name.” she replied evenly, then turned to Fen, “Is this what passes as flirting here in Faerie? Or is he just really bad at it?”

Aren gaped, then sputtered, turning red, and Fen gave a short bark of laughter.

Gods, he loved her. Normally Mercy wasn’t silver-tongued or snappy, she was gentle and sweet, but she absolutely had her moments.

“That was pretty heavy-handed, Aren. Even I wouldn't have tried most of that.” Micah chuckled, rolling his eyes a little. “How is it that you’re popular with women when you act like that?”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“I think a lot of fey women like it.” Mara said thoughtfully, “Though I don’t see the draw, myself.”

“Well, you wouldn't, would you, dear?” Cecily giggled.

“Maybe…it was heavy-handed.” Aren muttered, but recovered and smiled at Mercy, “But if it was, it’s because you’re so pretty that I-”

“Aren.” Fen cut him off, letting his eyes flash. “Enough.” Aren visibly quailed, seeming to shrink into his seat a little at the king’s displeasure.

“I’m not comfortable being flirted at.” Mercy said quietly.

“I should have led with that and shut him down immediately, like I did Micah.” Fen sighed, shaking his head.

“You only had to say it once to me, because at least I know not to keep pushing when someone says not to flirt.” Micah muttered, picking at his nails, looking vaguely superior.

“Thank you for that.” Mercy smiled at Micah.

“Sure thing!” The red-headed human smiled brightly at her.

Fen turned his attention to Aren again, saying, “Mercy is going to come work as my personal secretary soon, and if you so much as-”

“No worries! I won’t, I swear!” Aren interrupted with a yelp, waving his hands a little frantically.

“It won’t get you anywhere with me, anyways.” Mercy shrugged. “I’m not interested.”

“I can see that!” Aren grimaced. “And I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” she sighed.

“Not really, but I’ll let it slide.” Fen muttered. “You tell me if he bothers you again and he’ll answer to me for it.”

“Alright.” Mercy nodded.

It was quiet for a few moments.

“So, Mercy, you’re going to go work for Fen?” Cecily asked brightly.

Mercy smiled, “Yeah. It seemed best, all things considered.”

“I really need to work on finishing the ring.” Fen sighed wearily, shaking his head.

“Well, I haven’t seen a single spirit since I got here. It’s been a nice break.” Mercy sighed, sounding happy. “So thankfully, it hasn’t mattered too much!”

“I noticed you weren’t wearing it tonight.” Mara said, nodding at Mercy’s hand.

“I thought it would be best so as not to confuse people.” Fen replied, “Given I’d be talking about her magic, they’d be confused if they couldn't feel it.”

They fell into idle chit-chat about various things. Mercy talked happily with the group, though mostly ignored Aren.

The fey king looked around the room, and saw many eyes flickering to Mercy and him. The ones who looked at him were curious, the ones who looked at Mercy were amorous, and that irritated him to no end.

Feeling annoyed, he reached out and put a hand on her back.

“Hm?” she looked over at him, tilting her head questioningly.

“Will you dance with me again?”

Her dark eyes blinked, “Are you sure?”

“I don’t know if you like it or not, but I enjoy dancing. I’m glad to find I’m coordinated enough for it still, even though I’m so much taller.”

“It’s alright.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind.” she insisted, shaking her head, “As long as you don’t mind that I have to stand on your feet.”

“I promise I don’t.” he shrugged.

Mercy stood, “Then come on.”

Fen followed suit, and took her hand, saying, “We’re going to dance again.”

“Have fun!” Astrid waved cheerfully.

“Come dance with me, Cecily!” Micah said, hopping up.

“Sure!” Cecily giggled, standing and taking his hand.

“Either of you want to-” Aren started, glancing between Mara and Astrid.

“Not gonna happen.” Mara interrupted in an even tone.

“Uh, right.” Aren stammered.

Fen didn’t feel sorry for him. He brought it on himself.

The fey king focused his attention back on Mercy. Her hand was small in his. He rubbed it fondly with his thumb as he pulled her onto the dance floor, and glanced back at her. The light from the chandeliers pulled out the red in her auburn hair, lighting it aflame, and making the gold in her dress shimmer. The circlet on her head really did complete the look. A goddess.

Mercy smiled contentedly at him.

Gods, she was wonderful.

He turned to face her, paused to let her step onto his feet again, then whisked her away into the dance.

It was bliss, being with her, in their little bubble where no one would bother them, her small form in his arms, very close.

This was what he wanted, forever. To just…be with her forever. For no one to ever take her away or have any claim on her, except him. And he wanted her to have a permanent claim on him.

It occurred to him that what he was thinking of was marriage. He wanted to marry her.

She’d be a splendid queen. Or rather, High Queen Consort, given she didn’t have a drop of fey blood in her. Yes. That was what he wanted. He loved her, and wanted to marry her, to spend all of his tomorrows with her.

If only she’d have him.

But that wasn’t what she wanted, and that was okay. She needed him as her friend, and so that was what he’d be.

-

I danced with Fen a couple more times, then said, “Phew, I need another break!”

“Sure. I sort of lost track of time.” he grimaced, pulling me from the dance floor.

“It’s alright! You said you like dancing.”

“I do. Especially with you.” he smiled at me as we walked, keeping my hand in his.

“Oh don’t you start.” I rolled my eyes.

“I only-” Fen cut off with an awkward, strangled sort of noise, and stopped walking, jerking me to a stop as well.

I felt magic welling in him, realized what was happening, and threw his arm around my shoulders, and forced him to stumble towards the table, calling, “Amilee!”

His cousin’s head whipped around, saw us careening towards the table, and leapt to her feet. “Oh no!” she sighed, hurrying forward.

“What’s wrong?” Aren asked, looking confused.

“Get me out of here!” Fen gasped, his expression panic-stricken and terrified.

Axl darted up, throwing Fen’s other arm over his shoulder, and Amilee took over from me, “Sorry, sweetie, I’m just stronger.”

“Fey strength, I know.” I muttered as they practically dragged the now trembling fey king from the ballroom. I trailed behind, my hands clutching anxiously at one another since there wasn’t anything for me to do at the moment.

Rose darted up, likely having heard about what was going on from Astrid. “Not tonight!” she sighed sadly. “Oh dear!”

Fen started to convulse and scream in pain before we’d made it to his room, collapsing in the hallway.

“Mercy!” Amilee cried, desperately trying to hold Fen’s arms still so she and Axl didn’t get hit.

I ran forward and managed to catch his hand and push an enormous amount of healing magic into him. The world began to spin from the effort, but he immediately went still, his eyes rolling back, and the convulsions lessening to awkward twitching.

“I-I don’t…feel well.” I muttered, stumbling and trying to catch my balance.

“Looks like you pushed a bit too far. That was a lot of magic.” Rose's voice was grave as she reached out and caught me before I fell. “Let’s get you to your room.”

“I-I should g-go help F-Fen though!” I protested dizzily, my head was swimming.

“No, sweetie, you could hurt yourself. You can help him when you wake up.” She helped me down the hall as Amilee and Axl now dragged Fen along ahead of us, now able to move far more quickly, given that he’d stopped writhing.

The housekeeper got me to my room, helped me change into my nightdress, then practically dumped me into the bed, as the world had only started to spin faster and faster as time passed.

“Rest, okay?”

“Can you stop the ride, sir? I’d like to get off…” I mumbled, dazed and woozy.

“Stay laying down, alright? I’ll come check on you again in a minute?”

“Mmkay…” I tried to blink away the dizziness, but to no avail.

So I lay there for a while, and let my eyes drift shut.