Fae In The City, Ch. 18

Sharon stared at her Fae father, Eddie, and his mother. The little man next to them had introduced Eddie's mother as Morgana, Queen of Elphame. The Queen of the Fae is my grandmother? Sharon tried to mentally process the shock of learning her heritage included royalty.

"You've proven your loyalty to me, son. Now leave this place and come home so we can wed you to a proper bride," the Queen said.

"I have a wife, mother; you know that," Eddie said. "You also know I have no intention of leaving here without her."

"Perhaps if I banished the sylph and her offspring," the Queen said, raising a hand toward Caroline.

Sharon's heart raced. Banished? Her mother was a sylph? What did that mean?

Eddie moved to block the Queen's gesture toward his wife. "I know what you're doing. Sharon is of age, and must choose without your interference."

"Eddie, darling boy. I merely want to end this phase in your life and put it behind us," the Queen said, lowering her hand. "The Court is watching and a scandal could tip the scales this time. Come home. Wed a proper woman and give the Court something to cheer."

"My Queen," Eddie said, bowing. "I cannot do as you suggest. I love my wife and have much to teach my daughter. I have faith you'll weather the scandal if it comes to that."

Morgana's eyes swept the group. She raised her chin. "We'll talk again soon, my son. I'm sure you'll see the wisdom of my position in time. Just make sure that you decide before more damage is done."

With that, the Queen turned and sliced the air with her hand. A shimmering strand opened like a curtain, exposing a glowing blue-green tunnel. The Queen and the little man with her stepped into it, and the opening in the air disappeared.

Sharon stared at the place where they had vanished.

Her father stepped in front of her and put his hands on her arms, lifting her up to her feet. "Welcome to the family, Sharon. That was your dear Grandmother."

Sharon blinked.

Caroline stood and wiped the dirt off her knee. "And you see now why we couldn't come fetch you."

"I'd like to say she has a good side, but I think you just saw it," Eddie said. He gave Sharon a hug and stood back. "I'll go check on our soon-to-be-free human." With a a quick nod to his wife, Eddie walked back into the cottage.

Sharon turned to Caroline. "So you're a sylph? What is that?"

Caroline smiled. "We are creatures of the air. You inherited much of that from me. Your wings, your shape. We have much to discuss, daughter."

Sharon's heart flipped at the affection in the Fae woman's voice. "So Eddie is a prince? Shouldn't he be 'Edward' then?"

Caroline laughed. "We chose names to blend in. I promise to tell you more if you tell me all about California, and your life there."

Caroline strolled toward the cottage, and the girls followed at their leisurely pace.

"What happens now?" Sharon asked. After the words had left her mouth, she realized she was deferring to Caroline like a child would to a parent. She cursed the fact that it seemed so right.

"I presume you'll want to take us to California and reunite Diana with her parents."

"You want to go too?" Sharon asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Caroline replied, her warm smile putting Sharon at ease. "Besides, we must orchestrate her assimilation properly; and for that you'll need our guidance."

They found themselves standing at the front door to the cottage.

"Would you like to rest and join us for supper before the return journey?"

"No fairy food," Heather said, her hand on Sharon's arm to remind her of their previous discussion. "I'd rather not starve to death."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "I abhor when literature imbues figurative prose as literal. The legends skewed a few writings and blew everything out of proportion."

"What are you saying?" Heather asked.

"If I recall the legend, it says: Once you've had fairy food, human food will never again sate you. Mundane food will turn to dust in your mouth, right?" Caroline said.

"Exactly," Heather said.

"Poppycock," Caroline laughed. "We just make the best food you'll ever taste. Everything else will seem like dust in your mouth by comparison. Besides, Diana will be cooking, so fret not."

Caroline held the door open, and the girls walked in. Sharon watched Heather and followed, taking care stepping over the threshold into a real, honest-to-goodness fairy cottage. Sharon sensed that they would be safe here, and let her appreciation for the wonder of it all seep into her mind.

The interior of the cottage looked nothing like what the outside promised, in dimension or style. The interior reminded Sharon of a palace: the grand entry foyer blazing with the light from a brazier the size of her bed at home, surmounting a waterfall fountain; marble columns and balustrades on the sweeping staircases to either side of the foyer; a checkerboard of black and white marble tiles on the floor; and a moving fresco of clouds and butterflies on the ceiling. Doors led to the right and left at the bases of the stairs, and a set of double doors stood open at the far side of the foyer. At the top of the stairs, Sharon could see three more doors set back from the gallery railing.

Diana smiled down at them from the top of the stairs. "So what do you think? Not bad for a prison, eh?"

Sharon couldn't reply. She was too busy looking at the room to the right, which looked like pictures she had seen of the hall of mirrors in the Palace of Versailles.

"Just like your place back home, isn't it?" Heather said with a snarky tone.

Sharon nodded, her mind in complete overload.

"My human family lives in a palace?" Diana asked, excitement dancing in her eyes.

Sharon shook her head, trying to get a grip. "No, they have a nice mansion, but it's not a palace."

"Well, I'm sure I'll love it," Diana said with a sigh.

"The dining room is this way," Caroline called to them from the door opposite the hall of mirrors.

Sharon and Heather followed Caroline into room with wood-paneled walls reaching to an arched ceiling twenty feet above them. Large chandeliers lit the room, which looked as wide as it was tall, and at least fifty feet deep. A long wooden table spanned the center of the room, with a dozen chairs on each side. Five place settings had been set up at the far end. A very small man stood in nineteenth century servant's livery by the table, his head barely clearing the level of the tabletop. He bowed as they approached.

"Thank you, Roland," Caroline said, taking a seat at the head of the table. The diminutive servant pushed in each of their chairs with white-gloved hands before disappearing through a doorway.

"Who was that?" Sharon asked.

"Our house Brownie, Roland. He's an amazing chef."