The Secret World of Briar Rose(27)
He refused to look at the empty seat next to him as he sat on the throne. Instead, the king gazed forward as servants brought the baby and placed her in a rocking cradle. The crowd cooed at the infant, delightful gasps that made Malicine twist their lips in scorn. These humans hardly knew the baby, yet they stared with wide-eyed wonder, like she was a miracle simply for being born. How easy it was for a girl to have the world on her side the moment she took her first breath.
“While it is a tragedy for the queen to die, we are grateful to have this blessing she left behind.” King Victor’s deep voice grabbed the court’s attention like a fist. “I introduce to you my daughter and future heir, Princess Amelia. She may be little, but she will grow to be strong, fierce, and brave, just like her mother. For this day of birth, she will receive a special gift from each of her godmothers.”
A gathering of violinists started playing from the far end of the hall. Light glimmered across the carpet. The crowd parted ways to make room for three faeries, who floated down the corridors and ended their arrival with a delicate bow.
Malicine watched through a black veil as their sisters reveled in the light. The faeries no longer possessed the scars from their last encounter. Iris had smoothed over the skin of her cheek after Malicine scratched her. Dahlia had healed the scorch marks on her face. And Clover, through pure magic, restored her vision with beautiful green eyes, the color of a forest after sunlight broke through the trees.
They were pale and lithe-limbed and beautiful, as they had always been.
“These three have faced tumultuous times and lived. That is a remarkable sign of bravery: to look tragedy in the eye and overcome it. I could not have picked a more honorable council to gift Amelia.”
Hatred rose up in Malicine’s belly as the crowd showered their sisters with applause. The faeries simply changed their ailments with magic, and the kingdom revered them for it. Of course. Humans were simple-minded fools who believed adversity was inspirational. That overcoming hardship was how one could be celebrated. But what about those who had no choice but to live with their flaws? What about the ones who were born doomed and could not change?
One by one, the sisters fluttered over to Amelia. Their fingertips glittered as each godmother cast a spell for the newborn.
“Sweet princess, your gift is beauty,” Dahlia cooed. “Your hair will always pour sunshine, and your lips will bloom like roses.”
“Tiny princess, your gift is song,” Iris continued. “Your sweet serenades will bring men to your door.”
Light poured onto the infant’s skin like dew. She wriggled in her satin bed, babbling in ignorance. The crowd clapped in awe. Such shallow gifts for a shallow girl. Malicine wanted to rip the teeth out of their smiles.
The demon could wait no longer. Before Clover granted her final gift, Malicine tore the veil off their face. A boom of thunder rocked the castle. Doors smashed open with howling winds. Yelps erupted in the air, the cold stabbing into mortal skin like a knife. Malicine materialized before them, a tall horned figure in the center of the room with Talon on their shoulder, his croaks a shrill alarm. Their hands pushed forward, sending the circle of people around them flying against the walls. Lightning from an open door blinded everyone’s eyes, making Malicine’s gaze even brighter.
As the cracks in the sky faded, the crowd finally took in the demon. Malicine had grown into a lofty figure at eighteen, towering six feet tall in a midnight cloak. Time treated them as kindly as it would any malformed creature: green skin peppered with black moles, half-lidded eyes the color of greened poison, a smile as sharp as a knife. Their horns extended even larger as they grew, two gnarled hooks firmly rooted on their temple. Under the moonlight, their shadow sauntered past the carpet.
“Quite a lovely ceremony, King Victor.” Their tongue flickered over their lips like they were about to taste a fresh meal. “Though I wonder, doesn’t your kingdom tire of the same trivial gifts for your family?”
The godmothers huddled around the infant, covering her like a shield. King Victor stepped forward, his head held high, his back straight. The kind of posture men possessed when they confused foolishness with bravery.
“I’ve heard tales of you, Malicine,” he rasped. “Spawned from the demon realm. Fae only by blood. A menace to humans and faeries alike.”
Talon snapped his beak audibly. Malicine stroked the head of the raven as they entertained the rest of their conversation. “My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail, seeing that you, too, admit that I am Fae.”
“You will never be like us,” Clover snapped, but Malicine needed only to flick their wrist to bend her arm backward. She screeched in pain, collapsing to her knees.
“Neve like you?” Malicine’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “What a tragedy.”
The king nodded to the guards, who unsheathed their swords and charged toward Malicine. The demon whipped their arms once more, sending a wave that knocked the knights against one another. Steel armor collided and restrained the soldiers to the ground. They could no longer move, like insects pinned under glass by a fine needle.
“I come with good intentions. In fact, I shall offer my own gift to the princess.” Malicine waltzed across the carpet. Their arm swiped to send another ripple of air that sliced into people trying to stop them. The faeries’ hands were torn from the cradle, their bodies sent flying to the walls. King Victor lunged forward but hit an invisible wall and knocked back on his heels.