Prince of the Courts

Prince of the Courts - Chapter 4

Summer 2022

Rayce was bursting with excitement on the inside but was careful not to let it show on his face. Baelerithon had spent many long hours teaching him to master his expressions, to only show the emotion that he wanted others to see. The Fey are unable to speak untruths, Baelerithon had cautioned him, but you'll find their faces lie with ease. You must strive to master this, or be taken in by your enemy's artifices.

Living as they did, hidden away in the far reaches of the Seelie Court, Rayce had not yet had a chance to practice this skill with any supposed enemies, but he hoped that he would be ready when the day came. Baelerithon had made no secret that his Shadowhunter blood made him a target for the Fey who blamed his father for the failed Dark War and the resulting Cold Peace. Others would mark him out for being a son of the Seelie Queen, who was still consolidating her power nearly a decade and a half after the throne had been shaken by the debts incurred to the Nephilim, the loss of many territories in the Mundane world, and the slow economic growth of their Courts as they struggled to recover under the yoke of sanctions that were far too harsh. It was a difficult time to be a prince of the Seelie Court, but Rayce was determined to acquit himself well.

Tonight would provide that opportunity at last. The Nephilim and their Downworlder allies were celebrating the signing of the Eleventh Accords in Alicante today, without the Fey, and instead the Queen was hosting a glorious celebration of their own. Months had been spent making preparations for the revels, and in defiance of the mandate that no Faerie be allowed to bear arms, she had set a tournament of champions to entertain courtiers and low-born Fey alike. And Rayce had been named to the champion's roll! At last, a chance to show everyone what he could do!

He had dressed carefully in his light-weight black leather armour. Zeke said that when he had finished growing, he might be able to find an actual set of Shadowhunter gear, but it was too much trouble to acquire sets that he would soon outgrow. He flexed the last piece of his armour in his hands, hesitating before donning it. A half-mask. It covered the lower half of his face. Arynessa had suggested it, saying that the mystery would add to his appeal, but it got awfully hot in there...

Rayce sighed and slipped it on. He would honour his sister's wishes. He left his bedroom and padded down the hall to the great room. It had changed over the years as he had progressed in his training, the walls covered in more weapons, and the great tree limbs that made up his aerial training course had slowly grown patches of moss and mushrooms. He took a deep breath in as he did every time he crossed into this room. It smelled like home.

Arynessa was already waiting for him with Zeke, and Rayce's breath caught for a moment. His sister was sheathed in a one-shouldered white silk column dress, done in the Grecian style. Delicate white flowers and petals twined up her other shoulder and across her collar bones, brushing gently against her soft lilac skin. Her small waist was circled with more of the same flowers, and the dress spilled to the floor from there. Her purple hair was drawn back into an intricate, yet lazy-looking sweep that still allowed her tresses to float down across the open back of the dress where still more flower petals dotted down from one shoulder until they faded at her lower back. When he stopped to stare at the diamond and amethyst jewels sparkling in her hair and from her ears she fixed him with a teasing look and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Did you forget that I am still a princess of the Seelie Court, brother?" Rayce tried to stammer an apology or a compliment, or even just some sort of intelligible words, and failed miserably. Baelerithon would have been disappointed. So much for all of his control, if his own sister could so easily disarm him.

Zeke pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning. "Well, if you could find the royal feather duster when we get back, princess, I think you've missed a few spots in my room." He tossed Rayce the double-bladed staff that had been a gift from the Queen for her son's 13th birthday the year before. He caught it easily and latched it into place on the harness that he wore across his back without a second thought. The weapon had become a part of him the day his mother had bonded it so.