A Faery Tale - Finished

One Night With The Fae - Part Five

- Wyla -

Wyla heard her dearest Queen giggle aloud behind her as she left her side. She shook her own head despairingly. The madness that gripped her Lady grew more noticeable by the year. It was all she could do to control the court that could no longer pretend not to notice. They all knew their Lady was insane and unpredictable, but their loyalty was exceeded only by their hatred of the Red Queen who would control the Unseelie Court if her sister was declared unfit to rule. Wyla tried her best to help Azarel, but every day she woke to find the Queen still living was a surprise. If she didn’t commit suicide in a hysterical fit then she would be assassinated by someone who sought to replace her. But Wyla knew deep down that the Red Queen would be the only successor. That was something to avoid at all costs.

She hurried through the crowds, her thoughts and worries making her lose sight of Brathnach. She hoped her Queen could control herself until she returned. Brathnach was an awe inspiring warrior; it was a pity he was such a lowly slave dog to the Red Queen. If anyone in the Seelie Court could match Wyla, it was Brathnach. She had no choice but to kill him if she faced him, otherwise her Queen would be left alone to rule. That couldn’t happen.

Wyla’s shoulders tensed as she searched for the warrior. She felt a relentless weariness over her on a daily basis. The strain of keeping an eye on Azarel was taking its toll on her. But she had made a blood oath a long time ago, bounding her to Azarel until her death. She had been commanded to make that oath, but the order was never necessary. She would have given her heart on a platter for Azarel, the first faery Queen capable of tears. Her vulnerability had to be hidden from others, but it was the one thing above all that captured Wyla’s loyalty. How often she had held the Queen in her lap and soothed her grief. If anyone found out about her weakness, all would be lost. She had been the Queen’s rock since childhood. The Court knew this, and for the most part accepted it, but if she put one foot wrong, it would be the end of her and in turn, Azarel’s reign.

It didn’t matter that the Red Queen was weak-willed, violent and petty. She had power and control, even if her charms often focused on the wrong things. A faery had to have strength of mind, body, and soul to rule. Azarel had too much heart. That was her problem. And being so close to Mirela brought too many hurts to the surface. Wyla had been dreading this night for a century; she alone had seen how much the last festival had weakened Azarel.

Wyla was so involved in her inner thoughts that she barely noticed the silver-haired faery beckon her over to him. So shocked by his arrogance was she, she even deigned to oblige him.

“What do you want, little solitary? Do you wish to pledge allegiance to the Unseelie Queen?”

He shook his head, smiling slightly. “I know what you’re looking for. And that you will never find it until it’s too late. But I’m not Unseelie, so I can see her. I can get to her.”

Wyla paused, unsure of this cocky little faery’s words. Solitaries could be mischievous and spiteful, but she could see no hidden agenda or riddle in his words. That was the problem.

“What do you know?” It was true she would never find the girl alone, and she wasn’t too conceited to refuse help when she needed it.

The faery leaned toward her. None paid them any attention, although most of the fae avoided Wyla completely.  “Brathnach is with the human as I speak. The doorway is enchanted to block out you and yours. I have no commitment to either Court, so I found the way in. I can show you where Brathnach will appear and warn you of his approach. It will give you enough time to surprise him. If that is what you wish to do, of course.”

Wyla considered this. “Why do you aid me?”

“I have no love for Brathnach or his Queen.”