“Careful,” Mina called out, utterly relieved. “We don’t want to scratch the floors.”
A long rumbling sound echoed from the thing. She wasn’t sure, but it could’ve been laughter. She worked side by side with the furred beast for a good part of the afternoon. He took down the broken tapestries and paintings and put them on the floor, and he cleared the rooms of the large debris, stone, and destroyed doors.
The Fae lights returned and worked on cleaning the scorch marks from the walls and clearing cobwebs.
The beast carefully opened up another door and entered the throne room. Mina followed at a distance. This room was the worst. Both of the Royal thrones were destroyed, burned to a crisp. The curtains were in a pile on the floor, and the portrait of the Fates had been blown up. All that was left was the frame.
They got to work cleaning up the throne room, and it felt weird. She wanted the palace to be put back together, but she didn’t know why. Maybe the Fae part of her soul wanted order restored. More Fae lights came in to help, and the yeti cleared out the destroyed chairs. Within a few hours, even the pillars were fixed.
“Well, now that it’s cleaned, what do we do? We can’t leave it empty.” Mina said to the Fae lights as she looked around the Great Hall.
A small Fae light spun in circles to get her attention, signaling her to follow it. It led her up the stairs and down an empty hall to a large storage room. The beast followed her, always a few yards back.
The Fae light zipped into the locking mechanism, and the lock grew brighter from within. A loud click followed, and the door swung outward to reveal darkness.
The Fae light pulled on a curtain, and a few seconds later, the room was bathed in light. Mina gasped. It was like walking into a museum. There were tapestries, paintings, and statues all carefully stored on swinging racks or marble shelves.
She took her time walking among the paintings and studying each and every one, while the yeti waited in the hallway. Quite a few paintings depicted the Fates at various celebrations or events.
Mina paused when she came to one in particular. Teague was obviously happy, excited about something. The joy, deep in his eyes, made her wish desperately that she knew how to make him look that way again.
The painting showed his betrothal ceremony.
She remembered that day. The artist had captured the moment perfectly. Teague stood in front of the twelve girls who would take part in the choosing ceremony. Most of the girls’ faces were hidden, since the painting portrayed them looking up at Teague, but Mina could easily recognize Ever’s long black hair, Annalora’s gold-blonde locks and her deep amber dress. She smiled when she recognized Dinah’s beautiful tanned skin and dark green hair. But there was one girl who wasn’t looking at the prince, one girl whose head was slightly turned toward the painter, and he had captured her worried expression as she looked for an escape route. She wore an elegant white dress of moon crystals and feathers. The painter had centered her in the painting, the only one of the twelve whose face was visible.
And it was also obvious that the prince was looking straight at her. Even now, Mina’s stomach filled with butterflies at seeing his reaction to her.
“This one. I want this one in the throne room.” Mina pointed to the painting.
The Fae lights carefully entered and took the painting out.
Mina paused and moved to the next painting—another of the ceremony, although she couldn’t remember when it took place. Teague stood in the middle, with the final four girls on either side of him. Most of the girls were smiling and trying to appear as regal as they could. Only Mina, next to Annalora, looked as if she wanted to be somewhere else. And once again, Teague was staring at her over Annalora’s head. It was obvious that the artist had figured out, before everyone else did, the story being played out. He could see the feelings Teague had for her.
The next portrait made her step back. Teague’s Royal engagement portrait. He stood tall and proud, his face lacking the joy so obvious in the earlier paintings as he held the hand of his future bride. It wasn’t Mina.
Teague held Ever’s hand.
She stopped, unable to look at any more. She wanted to run out of there and hide from all of her mistakes. How could that painting be true? The artist had captured so many moments of the choosing, but this seemed out of place. Ever hadn’t made it to the tower. Mina had.
Maybe she wasn’t supposed to make it.
Mina was confused and taken aback, and then she was filled with guilt again.
She pushed back her feelings and moved on to the next painting—another engagement portrait. But this one featured Teague and Annalora. Curiosity pushed her to keep moving the frames, and she wasn’t surprised when she noticed a third depicting Dinah and Teague. Three engagement portraits painted for three possible outcomes.
Longing to see her own portrait with Teague, she searched the whole room top to bottom. It wasn’t there. Puzzled and a bit annoyed, she moved on with her original task and picked some tapestries. She chose fantastically colored pieces featuring the woods, mountains, and valleys—the life of the Fae world.
Then Mina came to a section that housed the thrones, and the yeti joined her. She studied the various matching sets of ornate chairs and saw some inlaid with gold, others with diamonds and gems. But none of them fit Teague. Then she spotted a dark ebony chair with a deep blue cushion. She could make out fine engraved detail in the wood. It was masculine but not flashy.
“What do you think of this chair for him?” There was no need to say who she meant. Both she and the yeti knew it was for Teague.
He paused, tilting his head in thought. Then he grunted. He moved forward and picked up a set, one in each hand.
“No, just one throne.”
He turned and gave her a steely look before giving her his back and shuffling out the door with both chairs. She winced when the wood door slammed against the outer wall as he exited.
After she had picked everything she thought Teague would like, she left and locked the room. By the time she entered the throne room, it was finished. The yeti and the Fae lights had hung the new curtains, tapestries, and painting. She stopped mid-step when she saw the chairs she had picked out for Teague sitting on the dais.
One was occupied by a ghost from past.
“Playing house, I see.” Annalora smiled cruelly. Her braided hair hung over her shoulder. The olive green of her dress made her look sickly—or maybe her gnome heritage was simply showing through.
“What are you doing here?” Mina asked, defensive.
“I should ask you the same thing. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not exactly here willingly. But why are you here, Annalora?”
“I’m coming to pay my respects to my prince and offer my services,” she answered snidely.
“What services would he need from you?” Mina scoffed.
Annalora’s face turned ugly and red. “Teague’s banished the king and queen. I’ve talked to them, and they have no intention of attacking him and retaking the throne. They are waiting for another solution. So I’ve come up with my own.”
“Which is?” Mina asked sarcastically, knowing the Fates were waiting on her to solve their dilemma.
“Our world is dying. A queen should know what that means.” Her eyes narrowed. “I do.”
“This is not my home. So I don’t exactly keep up to date on Fae World 101.” Mina said, pretending to not care.
