Betrothed by Wanda Wiltshire

aren’t you powerful too? Couldn’t you just confront him about all this?’
    ‘My power is but a fragment of my father’s. Even when I inherit my own kingdom—which might not be for hundreds of years or more—the chances of my being equal to him are remote. Of course, had I known of the challenges ahead of me, I would have at least tried to make myself ready.’ He looked away from me and, in a voice that sounded strangely empty, said, ‘I cannot confront my father, Marla. I am nothing next to him, merely the offspring of the great King Telophy.’ He returned his attention to me. His eyes were dark and bordering on tortured. He held my hands tightly in his as he continued, ‘But this situation will be resolved. I will bring you to Faera before you reach immortality. You have my vow on that.’
    I didn’t see how it would be possible under the circumstances. But it hardly mattered—I was only dreaming after all. So I just smiled and lifted my hand to his cheek, watched, fascinated, as he closed his eyes and pressed into my palm.
    ‘Your father’s name is the same as his kingdom?’ I asked, when he opened his eyes again.
    Leif pulled me into his arms. ‘A kingdom is always named for its king.’
    ‘Will you be king of Telophy one day?’
    Leif shook his head. ‘My father is young and driven—the Kingdom of Telophy will never become the Kingdom of Leif.’
    ‘Then how will you get your kingdom?’
    ‘It is impossible to know. My father inherited his when my many times great grandfather, King Mirren, became overwhelmed with it. Often a kingdom is divided when the king has difficulty managing it alone, but Mirren decided to abdicate altogether. It happens—kings occasionally tire of the responsibility. Perhaps, though, I will inherit the kingdom of an old king after he moves on to the next world.’
    ‘What’s the next world?’
    Leif smiled. ‘Heaven, Marla, which we know no more of than a human.’
    ‘But you’re immortal.’
    ‘The term immortal is not entirely accurate. Like humans, we can and do die, just not of disease or old age.’
    ‘How then?’
    ‘Morbid girl,’ he said, but smiled and answered my question anyway. ‘Our bodies heal rapidly, much faster than a human’s, but there are some injuries which the Fae cannot survive—a dagger to the heart for instance, or a lost limb or wing.’
    ‘So as long as your body remains whole, you live forever?’
    ‘That’s not the only way to die. The Fae can also die from a loss of desire to live. Sometimes when a person loses someone close, or even if they are very old and tired of this world, they become sad. When that happens, the person begins to fade. One can fade to the point of no return. Sometimes it is willed, but often not.’
    ‘That’s horrible!’
    ‘Yes. Prolonged sadness is to be avoided when you are Fae.’
    ‘That’s called depression on Earth and we have medication for it.’
    ‘Well, there is no such cure for the Fae. Love perhaps.’
    ‘That’s kind of sweet.’
    Leif smiled and we were quiet for a moment.
    ‘Does your father know you are betrothed to Finelle’s daughter?’
    ‘I’ve been wondering that myself.’
    ‘Maybe he’d accept me if he knew what I was to you.’
    ‘I doubt it. My father is very proud. Remember, too, he has no way to understand the strength of our connection. He would think it nothing for me to choose another.’
    I felt sick at the thought. ‘So what can we do?’
    ‘I have some ideas.’
    ‘What are they?’
    ‘Don’t worry now, my love.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Anyway, are you ready to learn to fly?’
    ‘I’ve got nothing on under this top,’ I said, squirming a little.
    ‘Why should that matter?’
    I studied his expression. He watched me as he waited, looked too innocent to be anything but sincere.
    ‘I’m shy,’ I told him finally.
    ‘Why should you be? Don’t you wish me to teach you?’
    ‘I do, but . . . Geez, Leif, I can’t imagine what your Fae girls must