Leira felt surprising conflict, looking at Mina.
Her thoughts swirled around what happened in the ballroom. As Lorian’s personal servant, she had access to all gatherings, in case her Lord needed her. And she was definitely ready for all what happened, even without knowing Lorian’s plans. A human girl on fae ball was as peculiar as a bird invited on the meeting of the wild cats. Leira waited until something cruel happens.
But now, the girl was forced to stay forever in a fey realm. With such willing heart, with such joy from tasting the core fruit, Mina won’t be able to leave Ain’asel even freed by Lorian himself.
She ate that apple too, long long ago, all slaves with servant status had to do it. She ate it willingly, without spell or magic working on her mind. She preferred agreeing on it, rather than being forced by enchantment, she preferred being sober and conscious, not dazed and lost. She still remembered the texture of the flesh, the thick blood, which tasted like a summer dream. She didn’t regret it. After all, the human world is lost now. She wouldn’t have any places to go anymore, no friends, no family, no lovers…
Here, she was safer than she would be in the deep snow, waiting until a decaying beast devoured her in its eternal hunger.
Mina almost flew through her arms, when Leira supported her, taking her to the room from which she came. Leira would feel bad for her, for the spell that drilled her mind with long and insistent tendrils. But she knew Lorian always had a reason. She knew him long enough. She was almost afraid of the fact that she knew him but also didn’t know him at all.
But wanted to know him. Even against his laws and rules, against usual fairy scorn for humans. Against all what divided them, her cruel past and his actions. She wanted to know that feeling, when you abandon yourself in something forbidden.
And – to her surprise – she felt him better than she even felt her human lover. Who she killed at Lorian’s order.
Do not lie to yourself, at least.
Of course, Lorian’s reason for playing with this human child could be boredom. But… she felt it’s not the case. Mina was not a toy. If she was, why feed her a core apple? Toys lived very short and never were fed with blood.
Mina moaned, when she tripped and almost pulled Leira with herself.
Her big brown child’s eyes, hazy and lost, landed on Leira’s face.
She was so young. Leira rarely has seen young fey children, as most of them were growing up far from Dal’coler, far from the beating heart of darkness. But each human child she saw in the fae palace was reminding her how cruel this place was. Mina’s young face, her small form, everything screamed of not belonging here. But Lorian either way needed her and will do as he pleases with her.
Fae never felt sentiments, never considered anyone too young. They lived for thousands of years, and every human was just a falling star passing the vast sky for them.
And humans were nothing more than a flesh from which they sculpted an enchanted prison of souls.
Mina stumbled again.
Leira’s graps tighter, allowing the girl to lean on her more. Mina hanged on her dress and pulled, she supported her head on her side. Her thick brown hair scattered around her head like a halo.
“Come” she decided to speak, to just break the silence and took her over the steep stairs, leading to a columned corridor. Here, the spellbound atmosphere was lighter, muted like in the ballroom. Here, was the room of this girl.
Leira still felt undecipherable, raw emotion under her heart. The sight of Mina was both wrong and strangely pure in its morbid way. Bloodied hands, and dress, empty eyes and an innocent face. Long gone emotions ran through her.
But her heart long ago stopped pumping human blood. She could feel pity for Mina, misplaced, weak… but she knew the rules of Dal’coler, which she grasped fast and mercilessly. She was never like Mina. She was never like anyone. Scary, fascinating realization.
Enchanted child in the enchanted castle, learning magic, to shatter her own shackles.
If Mina ever knew how humans can change here… maybe she will change as well. Or die, if she won’t.
The girl’s room was spatial, but not enormous. The High Fae chambers were much bigger. But it had a typical design of the Unseelie interior – stained glass scenes, which the fey were fond of, sculptures – obscure and grotesque in their stunning and dangerous beauty… and above it all, it held the sense of something hiding behind your back, that stayed with you, even after all those years.
Perhaps there were things behind her back. After all, magic drifted in these rooms, and passages, filling them with disturbing presence.
Leira laid Mina on the bed. The girl sighed and immediately curled in the fetal position. Leira felt that leaving her in a bloodstained dress was cruel, but disrobing her and leaving her in nothing – she wasn’t given fresh clothes – seemed somehow wrong for Leira.
Mina instinctively captured the hand of Leira, and Leira quickly withdrew it.
This girl is lost already. And you will live here for hundreds of years. You will forget this child, and you will become cold on the pain of her likes.
Leira, through the mist, remembered her homeland. South of Avras. Large woods and murmuring rivers. A sad and empty – yet wealthy – life of a daughter of a sad and empty – and very rich – landowner. She had someone who was important to her, in another life. But she couldn’t remember his face anymore.
Not that it was relevant, he died. Died, buried deep under the snow of her memory. She killed him. It was her own choice.
And it was not the faery cruelty which terrified her more, but her own desire to live – at every cost. Her swift hand, when she slit her lover’s throat, to stop Lorian’s torment.
They had the upper hand, playing with her soul and body, but she had still her will. And it was stronger than fae spells.
She was better here, even if among darkness and shadows, where she had protection. And she learned how to be useful and needed. How to share the secrets of Dal’coler with him.
Time passed and nothing changed. Lorian looked at her with the same attentive interest, which she started to feel in her bones and veins.
She learned how to be more than a human.
Or less.
She stared at the Mina peacefully falling asleep. So peacefully. Her hands and half of face hidden under a smooth and light sheets. Leira, slowly, withdrew and just as slowly, noiselessly, left the room, allowing the stained glass figures gaze morbidly as she slept – and strange sculptures to lean over her, looking just into her face.
Eyes set on her closed ones.
Open mouth, like surprised by her innocence.
Outstretched hands, frozen in time, wanting her soul, but never being able to steal it.