The Bastard Queen (Viciously Yours #2)

The last two Estates on the list were easy enough to turn to our side. Baron O’Ceallaigh was an old man with a large family who wanted to see a better future for his children and grandchildren. He was actually a very neutral tempered man for a Seelie Fae, his family set my teeth on edge with their cheer but he was alright. I liked him, he was even willing to fight and I was interested in seeing his animal ability in action.

The Walsh’s were a bit trickier to handle than then rest. My information on the amount of soldiers they had was outdated, they somehow managed to collect over fifteen thousand soldiers instead of the five thousand I thought they had. They wanted a seat on the council for their large contribution to the war and I couldn’t disagree with them. I already had Trolls and Banshees on my council, it was time I started adding a few Unseelies. Overall, our last two visits were uneventful but effective.

It became more obvious by the last few Estates we had visited, that more and more Fae were hearing about the war and remembering who I was. Though arriving back at the camp was even more of an eye opener. We had each received a kiss from Sy, located on the hand for me, Cillian and the mated soldiers. But once we walked into camp the sheer number of tents was shocking. We went from a modest couple hundred tents to well over a thousand, the Nymphs must have relocated the trees because even the clearing was larger.

Gazing over the large mass of white and blue tents, I walked through the camp in a trance-like state. Little tendrils of smoke rose up here and there as people got ready for night fall. Dark clouds hovered in the sky above the camp hinting at the rain that was sure to fall during the night. Fae, Banshees and Trolls alike roamed the camp in all different directions. There were even Trolls and Fae speaking casually as if they hadn’t held hate in their hearts for each other just a few weeks ago. It was inspiring to watch but it was the way they all dropped to one knee as I passed that stole the breath from my lungs.

At one point, I had stopped and stared until Cillian discreetly nudged me forward. Leather boots treading over the beaten down grass path between the tents, I turned abruptly to the left. I needed chocolate and I needed it now. Cillian murmured something in my ear about checking on something but I barely paid attention. Feeling hundreds of eyes on me and the way people dropped to one knee…. It was too much, my chest constricted with the new level of pressure I felt.

If I had died a couple of nights ago, I would have damned all these people. They were already labeled traitors by Mab’s kingdom but without someone leading them they’d be picked off like rats. These people were risking their lives to put me on the throne and I almost ruined it by getting myself killed. The responsibility of my position and the lives of these people had already weighed on me but now it was almost unbearable.

Breathing in and out as quickly and as inconspicuously as I could, I flung back the tent flaps and stormed inside the cooking tent. Thankfully, it was empty besides a tall woman in the back corner with long light green hair streaked through with gray. In a panicked state, I barely registered her as I raced to the back cabinet. Dropping to my knees, I yanked open the wooden doors and started rifling through the different sugar-free chocolate products. Chocolate bars, Chocolate powder, Chocolate cookies, Choco Blasts….

No, no, no, no. Where is it? I know it’s in here. Come on, where are you? I needed the heavy duty stuff before I really flipped my shit. Bottles and glass jars knocked together as my searching became more frantic. The ground rolling beneath my knees and the splashing of the lake could be heard, hinting to my impending breakdown if I couldn’t find it. A hand on my shoulder had me throwing myself back against the counter to look up at the person who had grabbed me.

“Looking for this, My Queen?” She asked, holding out a glass jar and spoon.

Snatching them out her hands, I ripped the top off and sunk the spoon into the thick dark double chocolate frosting. Scooping up a generous amount, I stuck it into my mouth with a sigh and dropped my head back against the counter. The ground settled and the splashing from the lake could no longer be heard. Calmer than I had been before, I looked up at the woman only to blink a few times in recognition.

Swallowing, I pulled the spoon from my mouth, “Orlaith.”

Cillian’s mother gave me a soft smile, “My Queen.”

“You don’t have to call me that. You can just call me Macha.” I replied a little awkwardly. “You and Dougal are practically family.”

“Well in that case,” Walking past me, I heard the sounds of a cabinet opening and closing before she came back and took a seat on the floor across from me. Taking the top of the frosting off, she leaned back against the cabinet and put her feet against the one I was leaning on, “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Snorting in surprise, I shook my head and scooped out another spoonful of frosting.

“I’m serious.” She said, digging into her own frosting jar. “You should be on top of the realm right now. Everyday word spreads about you and the real threat you pose to Mab. Soldiers go out to recruit in villages and come back with up to ten Faekind at a time. Tir Na Nog is buzzing with excitement, so why are you breaking into what Dougal calls your ‘last resort’ stash?”

“Dougals, dramatic.” I chuckled. “I just wanted something different.”

Light green eyes gave me the same stare her son gave me when he knew I was bullshitting him, “Little girl, Cillian Grymes is my eldest son. If you think I don’t see right through your act, then you are sorely mistaken.”

“Lilly was a tough nut to crack as a kid then, huh?”

“Lilly?”

Laughing, I nodded, “I used to call him that when we were kids to piss him off and it stuck.”

“Oh, Divines. And he has the nerve to call Baris, Bear-ass.” She laughed. “One time when Cillian was around two hundred, he came home upset after school and refused to tell us what was wrong. Then the next week he walks through the front door with a big smile, slams a letter on the table and goes to his room. Apparently, a few boys had been teasing him about his odd hair color and Cillian decided that the best way to handle the situation was to knock their teeth out. Does that answer your question?”

“Aggression is his go to.”

Smiling, she asked, “So, this is about my son? What’d he do now?”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “Lilly’s been great, annoying but great.”

“Then?”

Sighing, I stuffed a dollop of chocolate frosting in my mouth to stall.

“I’ve got time. Dinner doesn’t start for another two hours.”

Meeting her eyes, I swallowed before muttering, “...fhhnks...”

“Queens don’t mumble, Macha.”

“Fraud. I feel like a fraud, okay?” I spit out, feeling my mood take a deep dive towards shitty.

Scooping out a little chunk of frosting, she tilted her head in question, “Why do you feel like that?”

Staring at the flecks of dirt on my boots by her hip, I responded softly, “I don’t know how much Dougals told you but I’m not angry, bitter or depressed anymore. I’ve made a surprising amount of progress since I arrived here but...Seeing all those different Faekind out there, talking to each other and wearing my color….dropping to one knee for me? I feel like a fraud, they deserve someone better.”

“Like who?”

“I-I don’t know.” I blinked. “Someone undamaged, someone with a better temperament, someone more responsible…just someone else.”

Orlaith hummed, “What about someone who knows the value of a life? Someone who understands what it’s like to be helpless? To have nothing? Someone who’s risen up not once but twice and rebuilt herself? Or how about someone who’s died and come back? Better yet, what about someone who’s open minded and understanding because they know what it’s like to be rejected by a parent and a kingdom?”

“You all give me way too much credit. You don’t know what I had to d-”

“You’re right, we don’t. But you inspire people, Macha. You give them hope. These Faekind follow you because you’re different. They feel like you understand them, that you are fighting for them. They’re here because you’ve suffered like they have. You know what’s like to starve, to feel alone in the word, to feel like nothing you do is enough. You’re a Fae with feelings and faults, you’re not cold and detached like Mab or warm and happy all the time like Oberon. You’re real and relatable. And most importantly, they want someone like them on the throne.”

I shook my head with furrowed brows, “But I’m not like them. I have royal and Divine blood running through my veins.”

“Yet, you’ve suffered more than most Fae ever will in two lifetimes. Your blood has never given you an advantage or perks in life. If anything it’s the reason your life was so difficult.”

“So they want me because I had a fucked up life?” I asked, rubbing at my temple.

Flinging her spoon, I jerked my head out of the way just in time, “Have you been listening to a single word I’ve said? Dougal and Cillian were right. You are thick headed.”

Making a face, I tossed my spoon back at her, “No, I am not.”

“What I have been trying to tell you,” She stressed, grabbing the spoon mid air. “Is that, they want you as their Queen. You, Macha O’Riordian, represent everything these Faekind have gone through in one crazy powerful package. No one is going to fight as hard for them as you will and they know that.”

Pride washed over me and filled my chest with warmth, “Yea! Your right! I mean, I just died fighting for them. Who else would do that?”

“Wait, what?”

“And who else would suffer for almost a thousand years only to escape and try to do what landed them in prison all over again?”

“Very, very few.”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. “Who else would cash in on deals with sketchy Fae for the good of the war?”

Orlaith climbed to her feet, shooting me a hesitant look, “Maybe we keep that part to ourselves, Sweetie.”

“Thanks, Babes.” I grinned. “You really know how to lift a girl’s spirit.”

Bending down, I picked up her spoon and my lid to screw it back on the frosting jar. Putting the jar in the cabinet to find later, I threw the spoon into the wash bin and started towards the tent entrance.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Surprised, I turned and thrusted my thumb over my shoulder, “Oh, um. I was going to head to my tent, maybe catch up on some sleep.” Or maybe sleep on your son.

“No way, Missy.” She shook her head, long green hair flying wildly. “I have a bone to pick with you since we’re practically family.”

“Would this have anything to do with you avoiding me?” I cringed.

She sputtered for a minute before laughing, “I haven’t been avoiding you. Some days I just get sucked into the reality that my entire family is putting themselves in this war. I know it’s worth it and I know you guys can win but I just get scared for my boys and Bria.”

Nodding, I said, “I can sit the twins and Dougal on the sidelines. Can’t promise Lilly will listen to me, though.”

“Thanks. But we both know there’s nowhere else a Grymes would rather be than on a battlefield. Except for me and Syrus, my fighting days are long gone.”

Stepping back further into the tent, I watched as she drifted around pulling things out, “That’s right. You were the one who taught Lilly how to swing those axes of his right?”

“Since before he could walk.” She boasted, tying an apron around her waist.

Walking closer to her, I feigned interest in the different spices on the counter, “Sooo, you would know if the weight and the feel of an axe is good?”

“Sure would. Why? Are you thinking about switching to axes?”

“No, no.” I murmured, gently spinning a bottle of nutmeg. “But if I wanted to make a pair of battle axes would you be willing to check them out? You know, make sure they’re evenly weighted and what not.”

“Sure but I’m surprised you’re not asking Cillian for help.”

Gazing around the room, I shrugged, “I want a more experienced eye.”

“I see. May I ask what kind of metal you’ll be making these axes with?”

“Just some extra personal metal I had lying around. Nothing special.” I replied, trying to ignore the heat of her gaze.

“The metal of a God?” She gave a low whistle. “You must really like my big headed son.”

Eyes flying to her light green ones, I stuttered, “What-no-I, don’t you have a bone to pick with me?”

She suppressed an obvious smile, “That’s right. It’s time for you to learn how to make those Choco Blasts you love so much.”

“Ooooo, yeahhhhh. I’m not much of a baker or anything domestic really.”

“Little girl, I didn’t ask. You better get over here and learn. I cook you at least twenty of these things a week. It’s time you started appreciating my baking.”

Looking at all the ingredients she had laid out, I swallowed hard and prayed I didn’t disgrace the chocolate.

—

Awww, poor Macha. Just goes to show that anyone can have their insecurities triggered at any time, no matter the progress made. Also, Macha finally met Cillian’s mom! I didn’t forget to make it happen people, lol.

As always, comment or like to your hearts content!

Smooches, Verbage💋