Awake (4 page)

As I make my way back to my room, I once again stop to study the paintings but with renewed interest. I find myself wondering what type of crimes these humans and fae committed and how long they have been trapped in these prisons. The way in which the queen runs her court is interesting and impressive. She punishes as she sees fit, always taking into consideration the crime that was committed, which makes the punishments seem fair for those that are in her favor. This brings my thoughts directly back around to Holly, and how she is in the queens favor. Their relationship causes my curiosity to burn even brighter.

My pace quickens, and I return to my room, where Willow, at least, has the sense to act as if she were not anticipating my arrival. Instead of looking up when I enter, she ignores me, keeping her eyes averted and paying close attention to the beautiful crystal vase in front of her. The vase is filled with crisp white daisies and pale lavender roses of various sizes. There are several similar arrangements throughout the room, filling the air with a fresh, spring-like smell.

I allow the door to shut louder than usual, watching as Willow turns casually toward me. Her lack of surprise and smooth movements only reinforce my thoughts of her being well aware of my presence. In fact, I almost smile at her casualness when she greets me.

“Oh. Hello, Poppy. How was your breakfast with the queen?”

I mimic her casual tone with one of my own, fully aware of the fact that she is tidying up my room like I have asked her not too. “Hello, Willow. It was very nice. How has your morning been?”

“Wonderful.” She places the last flower into the vase before offering me an innocent smile. “Aren't these flowers just beautiful? They smell simply delicious!”

“Yes, they do.” I sit down on the edge of my bed and study her as she starts to clean up flower trimmings.

“So, what are you doing today, Poppy? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yes, actually.”

Willow stops cleaning and eagerly turns to me. She is hoping to do some sort of servant task for me, but I meant what I said when I told her we were going to be friends. I have no intention of allowing her to serve me any longer.

I pat the bed next to me as I say, “Come and sit. We can talk about it while you relax.” She looks at the bed hesitantly before she finally sits beside me. I cannot help but to laugh. “The bed will not bite you, Willow.”

“I know,” she huffs as she plops onto the bed. She still sits stiffly, though, and I realize this is as foreign to her as it had been to me when Rho wiggled her way into my life at the unseelie court. It is not only the idea of being friends with me that is foreign to Willow, but the idea of
having
a friend. We have much more in common than I thought.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I remind myself of the conversation with the queen and the burning questions still boiling inside my head. As much as I wish there were time for Willow and I to form a more solid relationship before questioning her, there is no time. I decide to be completely blunt with her. “Willow, I do not wish to offend you or to make you uncomfortable in any way, but I would like to ask you questions about the queen and the seelie court.”

Her back stiffens even further, and I can tell she is uncomfortable. Before she is able to speak, I quickly try to reassure her. “I do not seek confidential information or anything the queen would have you punished for. I promise you.”

“What exactly do you seek then?” The defiant tone of her voice makes me smile. I seem to be finding more and more similarities between the two of us as time passes. She may be as loyal as I am.

“I find myself more and more confused by the queen as the days pass. She says I am a guest here and has treated me as such thus far. When we speak, it is not how I would expect the queen to speak to a fae of the unseelie court. Instead she speaks as if she is merely having a conversation with me. She reveals information like how the court works and of her paintings, information my king would never reveal to outsiders. Now she has granted me permission to train and has allowed me to have my daggers once again. It is not possible that this is the usual treatment of prisoners, and I would like to know why she treats me so differently.”

Willow's eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but at me. It does not take much thought to know she is hiding something, but I also recognize I cannot force her to give me answers. When she finally glances in my direction, I give her my most desperate look. Appearing vulnerable is something I have been trained to never do, but I know Willow. This will be the only way I have a chance of getting information from her.

“Umm…who are you training with?” Undoubtedly, she is asking this to avoid my other concerns and questions, but I decide to go with it for now. We are still developing our friendship and hopefully, in time, she will trust me with the information I seek.

“I believe the queen said his name was Gideon.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen, her cheeks turning slightly pink, but she quickly covers the rosiness with her hands as she turns away from me.

Interesting.

“So, who is Gideon? What should I know about him before our training session?” I ask innocently.

“Oh, well…he's nice,” she answers shyly, still refusing to turn back around.

“Nice? I meant, how is he as a fighter and trainer?”

Instead of answering right away, she stands and begins pacing back and forth as if unable to keep still under my watchful gaze. Glancing at me again before picking up the pace and then staring at the floor, she starts rambling, “He's an amazing fighter, one of our best warriors, actually—and not only for his age, but amongst all of our warriors. As a trainer, he excels, as well. He's taught many of our young warriors, but none are as good as he is.” She stops pacing and stands in front of me. Her mood shifts to disappointment and resignation as she says quietly, “You will have a lot in common with him. I think you will make a good match.”

I stand up quickly, waving my hands in front of myself. “Whoa, whoa! This is the second time someone has tried to insinuate we would make a good match. I am not looking for that kind of relationship. I want a good sparring partner, nothing more.”

Willow bows her head and sits next to me once again. She places her hands in her lap and wrings them nervously. “So the queen has said she would like you paired with Gideon?” she asks softly as she glances at me from the corner of her eye.

“No,” I say softly but with a note of defiance in my voice. “The queen just said he was attractive, and I made it clear to her—as I am to you—that I am not interested, especially with a fae of the seelie court. I am unseelie and plan to return home once the queen allows it.”

She looks up once again with what looks like alarm in her eyes. “Oh! You plan to leave? Why?”

“Well, as I said, I am unseelie. I do not belong here, and I have duties back at my court. My king is probably furious over this situation as it is. I do not wish for him to take unnecessary action against the queen. She has been kind and hospitable.”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, Poppy. I believe the king is well aware that you are here and why. He won't attack our court if that is what you are afraid of. ” She says this with a confidence that makes me want to believe her, but she is only a servant to the queen. There is no way for her to be certain.

“Well, that may be the case, but I would still like to return home at some point.”

“I wish you wouldn't. We've only just become friends and I don't want to lose you already. I promise we'll have a lot of fun together. You can train and do whatever you like, and I'll always be loyal to you and watch your back. We could stay friends forever." She sounds much younger than she is, vulnerable and fragile, when she speaks this way.

I hate the idea of upsetting her, and so I quickly reassure her, “I like being friends with you too.” Then I smile a sly smile at her before saying, “So tell me more about Gideon. You like him?”

A blush once again begins to creep up her neck into her cheeks, but she does not hide it this time. “He's very handsome and strong as well as fierce and brave. We're very close in age, so I've known him most of my life.” She smiles softly, trying to hide the sadness behind her words. “But he doesn't notice me. You, though? He
will
notice you. You're so beautiful, and you two are so alike.”

I balk at the compliment. “I'm not beautiful. I'm a regular fae. The only difference is I'm a strong and capable fighter, but that's all.
You
are beautiful, Willow, and you shouldn't compare yourself to others.”

“You're a good friend, Poppy.” She looks away, and I am glad because I believe I saw her eyes glistening. I don't think I could handle it if she cried.

After a few seconds, she composes herself and turns her attention back to me. “So when does your training session start?”

“Whenever I am ready and whenever you are able to show me the way.”

She jumps up quickly and starts bustling around the room, gathering items so quickly I
am
unable to see what they are. I observe quietly until she finally turns to me and holds the items up. She has a new shirt and pants in her hands, along with a brush and hair band to pull my hair back with. “Here are clothes that will be suitable for training, and when you're finished dressing, I'll braid your hair for you.”

I look at her sternly as I take the items from her hands. “What did I tell you, Willow? You
are
not to serve me. I'm quite capable of getting my own clothes and brushing my own hair.” She begins to speak, but I shake my head and look pointedly at her. “Thank you for your help, but I can take it from here. I
will
be out in a moment, and we can walk together to the training room. Okay?”

She smiles at me and sits on my bed. “Okay. I'll just wait here for you.”

I walk into the bathroom and close the door quietly behind me. Setting everything down, I look at my reflection in the mirror, remembering Willow's words from a few moments ago. Beautiful? I have never been called before. I remember briefly Reed's comment when I met him, but I brush that off quickly as just his teasing. Gazing at my appearance now, I try to see myself through Willow's eyes. My features are normal fae features, narrow nose, high cheek bones, and a pointy chin, but they are softer than most of the others' in my court. My hair is shiny, smooth, and long, which is also similar to most other fae. Due to my battle training, my body is in great condition, my figure tight and firm. I am not too muscular, just lean and with no
soft spots
to fuss over, like Rho used to say when she was peering at her own reflection in my room at home. My eyes, though, I can admit are quite pretty. If I had to choose the one thing about myself I like most, I would choose my eyes. The green is such a contrast to my dark hair with the red running through it, standing out and almost glowing at times.

I run my hand through my hair and smooth it back from my face, staring into my own eyes. I suddenly find myself thinking of Reed again and remembering when we first met, how he called me hot. The memory causes my stomach to flip and my nerves to fizzle, jolting me out of my thoughts. Blinking at my reflection, I quickly pull my hand away from my hair. I shake my head at the thought that just crossed my mind. What am I thinking? I do not care what Reed thinks of me.

I turn from the mirror and get dressed, finding it difficult to get Reed out of my thoughts. Instead of thinking about what he thought of how I looked, I find myself remembering the way Damien yanked him through the portal back in the forest and the desperation in his voice as he called to me for help. This triggers a memory I still cannot pull completely to the surface of my mind. Standing still for a moment, I close my eyes and concentrate as hard as I can, trying to remember the dreams I have been having and the voices I have been hearing. I am sure it is Reed, but I am still unable to decipher his words.

A sudden thought occurs to me, one that probably would have soon had I not been so distracted by the queen and Willow. A spell to recall my memories may do the trick. Focusing on my magic, I begin to pull it from within. I envision the pure, white light surrounding me as I bring my palm up to my lips, ready to blow the spell into existence. I whisper the words I know by heart…

Magical spirits of the wind, the earth, and the sea, help me remember the memory escaping me.

Just as I am about to blow the spell across my palm, I hear a soft knock on the bathroom door, followed by Willow's soft voice. “Poppy? Is everything okay?”

My magic quickly pulls back, and the spell fades away before it can even begin to work. I push down my frustration, knowing it is not Willow's fault. Refocusing on my task, I begin to pull my hair back as I answer her, “Yes, you may come in if you would like.”

The door opens slowly before Willow peeks around it. “I have something for you.” She extends her hands to me, revealing my daggers lying in her palms.

Snatching them up, I look them over, ensuring they have not been tampered with. I examine the blades thoroughly, gauging the sharpness and checking for scratches in the metal. Thankfully, they appear to be undamaged and still lethal. Just the weight of them in my hands is a relief. Satisfied and excited now, I look up at Willow who is watching with a look of horror on her face. Her eyes are riveted on
the
deadly daggers held so comfortably in my hands. Cringing, I quickly sheath them and remove them from her sight. “Thank you very much, Willow.”