else was a courtier and I was only an independent, or if I was less fae than people thought. This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d not felt Faerie the way others did.
A gong resounded across the field, and the fae gathered themselves, though some seemed a little more lost in euphoria than others. The queen sat upright, shooting a glance across those of us placed around her throne before turning toward where the very last glow was fading. It winked out, and the queen pushed out of her chair.
“The longest night is upon us,” she proclaimed in a voice that resounded through the clearing, as she threw up a hand in emphasis.
A loud cheer rose, louder than I would have thought possible, and I turned back around to discover that the clearing was now much larger than it had been. Thousands of fae were gathered in the newly enlarged space. Some I recognized as independents from Nekros, but far more were complete strangers. More trickled into the clearing from between the archway of hawthorn trees, some alone, others in groups as large as a dozen. All were independents. The courts would arrive with more fanfare.
The queen waved her hand, and long banquet tables laden with food appeared along the edge of the tree line. More cheers erupted. She made another wave, and two large bonfires appeared at opposite ends of the clearing. Blue and green fire danced a dozen feet in the air, but it didn’t melt any of the snow around it.
I tried to scan faces, but most of the independents didn’t come close to the throne or attempt to present themselves. By and large these fae were those who avoided the courts. They might come here, enjoy Faerie on these rare nights, but they didn’t belong to Faerie the same way as the courtiers did. I spotted Caleb, one of my housemates, when he entered. He was a greenman, though he rarely released his glamour. For a long time, he’d been the only fae I’d known. Or at least that I’d known I knew. He escorted Holly, another of my housemates, on his arm. She was fully mortal, but since she was addicted to Faerie food already, the revelry was safe enough for her as long as she had a guardian to protect her and keep her out of trouble.
Fae of all shapes and sizes poured in. Most had dropped the glamours they wrapped themselves in while in the mortal world, but a few remained tightly glamoured, or perhaps were of so little fae blood that their features were completely human. Some approached the queen’s dais, bowing deeply, though not nearly as many as I’d seen approach the Harvest King during the Fall Equinox. This time I was close enough to hear their requests.
“I would like to move territories,” a fae said, his briar hair cut short like a twisting helmet of razor-sharp thorns around his head.
“And do you seek to join my court or to be independent in my land?”
“Remain independent, my lady.” His dark eyes looked up at her hopefully.
She debated only a moment. “No. You will have to wait for the doors to shift if you wish to migrate.”
His shoulders sagged as he trudged away. A female fae waited for him a few yards away, a pensive look on her face. When she saw his body language, she deflated as well, even her long tangle of briars seeming to wilt. I couldn’t hear what he said as he wrapped his arms around her, but she nodded sadly, wiping a tear from her cheek. I didn’t think they’d entered together, and it didn’t look like they would be leaving together either. This would be a far less merry longest night for them than it could have been. She must have been in winter’s territory. I wondered if they could approach any of the other monarchs, or if the rules of the revelry allowed them to only approach the ruling season.
More petitioners came. Most were about land. The Winter Queen sent away all those who wanted to move into her territory as independents, but she allowed three independents to join the winter court. A few of her own people approached about marriage contracts. She granted a frost fae and a little rowen man a fifty-year contract together, but the two of her Sleagh Maith courtiers who asked for a century she granted only fifteen years. The courtier who asked for the queen’s hand was quickly turned