Kelpie (Come Love a Fey) by Draper Kaye

Author:Draper, Kaye [Draper, Kaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kaye Draper
Published: 2013-03-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Adhene woke slowly, as if arising from a deep fog. He sat at the edge of his bed, his eyes still closed. Breathing deeply, he said a soft prayer of greeting to the ancestors and the old ones that were no longer of this world. He could feel them with him always. He brushed back his long, golden hair and opened his eyes. A small portrait of a wild, brown-haired beauty watched him from his nightstand. He liked to think she watched over him as he slept. Her bowstring mouth was turned up at one corner in a mischievous smile, and he wondered, as he had countless mornings, just what she was thinking. She had always worn that knowing smile. She would be sad to know that he could no longer muster more than a weak, fleeting imitation of that expression.

He tossed back the silken covers and stood. He began his morning preparations, a routine that had grown empty and dull. He groomed himself meticulously, braiding his long hair and adding a black silk ribbon. She had always loved his hair- the color of sunshine, she said- and he hadn’t cut it since her death. It brushed the floor as he moved, and he had to drape it over one shoulder to keep it out of the way. He slipped into the loose, flowing, kimono-style robes that were favored by the Underhill court. Some thought his choice of vibrant colors was because he wished to call attention to his almost feminine beauty, but they were wrong.

He compressed his mouth to a thin line as he studied his appearance in the mirror, and gave one last impatient jerk to the sleeve of his robes. They were black today. The color representing the darkness they all dwelled in here in Underhill, just as the deep red of the flowers that danced across the fabric represented the blood of all the fey who were no longer of this world. Beauty held no meaning to him any longer. He chose the colors to honor his kin. The rest was all part of the façade necessary to inspire awe in his followers.

He spun in a swirl of pixie silk and picked up his sword from its resting place near his bed. The moonstone hilt- chosen to channel his power- was warm in his hand, and it greeted him like an old friend as he strapped it to his hips. He glanced around the room one final time to make sure everything was in order. For all his flash and showmanship, his dwelling was stark. He owned only the necessities, and the one ornament. He touched the portrait in passing and left the quiet sanctuary of his room.

The dining hall was loud and bright, even this early in the morning. Fey magic made it seem as if the room was filled with the light of the rising sun. It was a nice effect among the smooth, worn tree roots that arched overhead, but a poor substitute for the genuine article.

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