“What’s that?” Fordham asked, trotting up next to her.

“Nothing.”

They continued the short ride to Lillington in silence. The village was a mere mile from Waisley. Likely the only reason her father had been able to carry on a relationship with a local girl without anyone knowing the extent of it. She was surprised to find that guards circled the village before they crossed into the village limits. She didn’t realize that her father had a patrol this close to town.

The village was comprised of a few hundred cottages with thatched roofs and wooden doors, congregated around a central town square. A circular fountain took up the center of the square, lying dormant in the chill. It had been festooned with faerie lights and shimmering ribbons. The entire square had been transformed into a faerie dream world. Courtesy of her father, of course.

He’d clearly sent ahead enough decorations and food for the entire village. It was an incredible expense that she’d had no idea he was going to incur for her. Sure, he usually helped throw a party for his subjects, but she doubted it was anything this extravagant.

“My lady,” a man said as they pulled their horses to a stop. He bowed deeply. “May I assist you today?”

“Yes, please,” she said.

He helped her down and then took both horses away to be stabled.

An elderly woman approached then with a dozen littlings, each holding a string of frost drops—a white winter flower that only bloomed after a snowfall. They’d laced them together and made a small crown.

“It is with great pleasure that we welcome you back to the House of Cruse, my lady,” the woman said with a deep and powerful voice. She curtsied, and the littlings fell over themselves to follow. “We present you with the winter crown.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kerrigan said.

She bent down to allow one of the littlings to place the crown of flowers on her head. When she straightened, she felt a shift in the world. In faerie, symbols had meaning. The queen of Geivhrea with a crown of frost drops meant something to these people. And the world responded in kind, illuminating all of the faerie lights, intensifying the glitter on the ribbons, and brightening the smiles on all the village faces. If she had to guess, the food would taste better and the wine more potent. Nine months from now, there’d be a whole new cropping of littlings to look after. A blessing on the people since it was so hard to have Fae children in the first place.

“You bless us,” the woman said. “Come. Let us celebrate.”