Shadow Queen (The Dresha Fae Tales Book 1)

  Shadow Queen

  The Dresha Fae Tales

  Bex Taylor

  Copyright © 2021 by Bex Taylor

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Gabriella Regina

  Formatting by Becky Murray

  Created with Vellum

  About Shadow Queen

  She was never meant to be the light

  Story becomes legend and legend becomes myth.

  The truth is often lost in the shadows.

  A secret never to be spoken.

  A story of light and dark, of loss and hope.

  A story of how one woman embraced the shadow and became a Queen.

  When Senka’s secret is revealed and she is accused of killing her father, she has no choice but to embrace who she is if she is to survive the aftermath of the summer king’s death. Fleeing the only home, she has ever known, she must find her own place in Dresha. A world where the darkness is not welcomed, and shadows are feared. Her power makes her an outcast. Her blood curses her magic. Betrayed and alone, Senka becomes the only person she can. A person who will one day destroy her brother’s world.

  The Shadow Queen.

  The Shadow Queen is a short prequel to the world of the Dresha Fae, where the politics of the Fae courts are nothing compared to the evil that lurks within the shadows.

  Enter the Dresha Fae Tales. A new YA fantasy, perfect for fans of a court of thorns and roses and the Grishaverse.

  1

  Black had always suited her. She wore it often in court, but today’s outfit was different. It had no burst of colour that the jewels of the Summer court brought the onyx-coloured clothing she normally wore. There was no weave of gold through the corset of her dress, no splash of sky blue in her skirts. No, today was the colour of morning. Because today she would say goodbye to her father.

  The Court of Light had lost their king just five days ago. A hunting accident, it was claimed, but Senka wasn’t sure she believed that. Her father was one of the best hunters she knew, along with her brother. Oran hadn’t been there when he had been killed. Senka wondered that had he been, King Dritan would still be alive, and Senka would still have her father. Now, her brother would be king of Calor. King of the summer realm and all the summer fae that lived with in the realm's security. Her younger brother wasn’t mature enough to rule. He had never had much interest in court, not like she had. But Senka would never sit on the throne, not while Oran was still alive. If he married and had a male heir, she would be pushed even further down the line of succession. But at least she would be around to be sure that his son, should he have one, would be mentored better than her brother had been. Senka let out a small laugh, Oran would have to find himself a mate first. He would have to stop drinking and whoring and become the king Calor would be expecting. The rest of Dresha would be watching. All the realms waiting to see how the new summer king would work the Court of Light. They would all be ready to pounce on them the moment Oran showed weakness.

  A knock at her door brought her out of her musing. Senka sighed, her moment of peace was over. She should have known that her servants wouldn’t have left her for long.

  “Sister, are you ready? We must meet the guests before we start the burial.”

  Senka would have preferred to have heard Lina’s voice instead of her brother’s. Lina had promised that she would return to escort her to the throne room. It would seem Oran had stopped her and came in her place. Senka wasn’t in the mood to deal with him just yet.

  The knock came again, this time louder and more urgent. Senka knew that if she didn’t answer him, he would barge into her room. A third knock came just as Senka went to pull open the door.

  “Patience is virtue, Oran.”

  “It’s your majesty, sister,” he corrected her.

  “Not yet, it’s not,” she snapped. “Where is Lina? I asked her to escort me to the throne room. You shouldn’t be here, Oran. You should already be in the throne room.”

  “I intercepted Lina, because I thought it would look better if the two children of King Dritan were to enter together. We are all that Calor has left of the royal family.”

  Senka looked at her brother as he stood waiting for her to leave the room. He looked tired. The last five days having taking the usual shine from his features. His sapphire-blue eyes held none of the mirth Senka was used to seeing in the crowned prince. His shoulder length sand gold hair was sleeked back, but even that lacked the shimmer it normally had. Her brother was vain, but today he had dropped his glamour. It was as if he didn’t have the energy to keep up the perfect appearance. She felt a little guilt at having judged him so harshly. He was burying his father too, and she had to remember that. They were grieving together. Just for today she could tolerate her younger brother, because for once they were sharing in the same emotions.

  “We’re going to be late if you continue staring at me.”

  Senka mentally shook herself, forcing her mind and body back to the reality. She flashed Oran a slight smile as she stepped into the long corridor, closing her chamber door behind her.

  “You’re wearing your hair down. You don’t normally. It suits you. Makes you look very dramatic, sister.”

  It was true, Senka preferred her amber curls pulled up and away from her face. But today was different. Today she let them cascade over her shoulders. Lina had weaved ebony ribbon through it. Her blue eyes were exaggerated by black powder, setting them off like sapphires. Senka knew she looked beautiful, but she wasn’t vain like her brother. She didn’t feel the need to parade the beauty of the summer court around.

  “You’re not wearing all black,” Senka noted.

  Oran shrugged in response, flicking off an imaginary speck of dust on his long, black coat. It was the only thing that was the colour of mourning. His trousers were a sea-blue, with gold and silver thread shimmering through it. Senka knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but she had thought Oran would have shown a little respect to the other mourners that had gathered for her father’s burial.

  “Why should I? It’s not like the Fae that are joining us today really care. They are only here to be sure that he really is dead. To get a look at the new king of Calor-”

  “All the more reason for you to set a good example, Oran. You not sticking to the tradition of the summer court’s mourning will make them question you before you have even been crowned,” Senka interrupted him.

  “Black has never suited me, sister. I have always worn the more vibrant colours of summer. It’s bad enough that I have to wear the darkness today. They will take me seriously. I know you have little confidence in the type of king I will be. Don’t underestimate me, sister.”

  Senka heard the threat in his words, and she wondered just what would change in Calor.

  “Let us not worry about what the future holds right now. Today we say goodbye to our father, and we can’t keep our guests waiting for much longer.”

  Senka simply nodded in response as Oran pushed open the large doors that led into the throne room of the summer court. Representatives of the other courts in Dresha were there. Senka knew some of them, those that she didn’t were watching her brother’s every move as he made his way towards the throne. Judging him. Wondering what type of king he would be.

  The summer throne sat empty, cold. Senka swore she could hear the voices of the previous kings within the elaborately decorated walls of the throne room. Each one of them mocking her brother
as he took the final steps to bring him in front of the throne. Senka assumed he would take his normal chair on the left of where their father would have sat, but to her horror Oran seated himself on the sand-coloured chair. A sculpture of beauty that had been carved out of the sands from their shores and enchanted with an ancient magic that meant it would never dissolve. She heard a ripple of whispers from the guests. Oran shouldn’t have taken the seat. He wasn’t the king yet. He had offended many of the High Fae in the room, and he had yet to be crowned.

  Senka took her own seat on the right of the throne. She had sat at her father’s side more times than her brother, and yet she would not be rewarded with the crown. Not yet, anyway. One day she would destroy the tradition that prevented a Princess coming to power. One day a female would rule a court, and Senka had every intention of being the first royal faerie who would.

  Oran cleared his throat, silencing the whispering fae. He was choosing to ignore the disdain that had settled over the room. The power of a realm already inflating his ego.

  “Me and my sister would like to thank you all for joining us to mourn the passing of our father and the king of Calor. It was a great tragedy. My father was a fine hunter. He shouldn’t have been killed doing what he loved. Be sure that the creature responsible for his death will be brought to justice-”

  “You mean to tell us you suspect foul play?”

  Senka swept her gaze through the crowd, seeking the source of the interruption. Her eyes fell on Luan, the crowned prince of the winter court. His pales skin shimmering like the sun on the ice. Those dazzling ice-blue eyes staring intensely at Oran. Oran held the winter prince’s gaze steadily. Though Senka knew the interruption would have angered her brother.

  “Of course, it was foul play. My father was murdered. It’s the only way a hunting trip could have killed him. You have hunted many times with him, Luan. As has your father. You know I speak the truth.”

  “Do you have any idea who or even what killed him?” Luan questioned.

  “No, but as soon as I have laid my father to rest, I will launch an investigation. I have a vague idea. But no solid evidence. At least not enough to sentence the monster to death,” Oran replied.

  Senka watched her brother closely throughout the exchange. She had heard nothing about his suspicions, and she wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth. She didn’t want to believe that something or someone would have dared to murder the king. If what Oran had said was true, did it mean that they were also in danger? Would they be the next on the hit list? Was there a much deeper threat running through the summer court? Senka shivered at the thought. Oran reached out and place a gently hand on her arm, almost comforting.

  “Don’t worry, sister. We are in no danger. I am almost certain that whoever took our father will not come after us.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She hissed.

  Oran said nothing as removed his hand from her arm and stood. Senka followed his move. It was time to say goodbye to their father. Silently she walked at Oran’s side, back through the crowd and toward the sea gardens of the summer palace. She was vaguely aware of the rest of the High Fae following them, and she hated it. Hated the fact that tradition meant she had to share such an intimate moment with the other courts of Dresha. She wouldn’t be allowed to cry, wouldn’t be allowed to show her true emotions. Instead, she would be forced to hide behind a mask of a cold, heartless princess. Something she was not.

  The sea gardens were laced with the flowers of the summer. Sand settled on the ground, as the air filled with the scent of the sea lapping around them, small waterfalls of the saltwater trickling into the garden from various fountains. Sculptures of previous kings in various poses were placed around the garden, so carefully formed from sand. Senka held back a sob as she noted the newest one that had been added. Her father with a bow and arrow in hand as if he was about to take down a kill.

  In the middle of the garden was a coffin made from a tree from the faewood. A sacred piece of land that was the very heart of Dresha. The lid was open so that they could look upon the king one last time. Senka walked to her father’s side. She let the tears fall as she gazed down upon him. She didn’t care that it would make her look weak. She was grieving. She loved her father more than Oran did. When her mother had died, he had taken more of an interest in her, wanted to learn about her thoughts and feelings. Humoured her ideas and listened to her words. He valued her and had always said she would make a fine queen should tradition had allowed it. Senka would never hear her father’s laugh again. Never feel his comforting touch in the times they were alone, and he could show affection to his children. Her father was the only one who knew the true power that lay dormant within her. The power of shadows. He had made her promise him she would let no one know of it. When she had asked him why, he had simply said that others would see it as an evil that they could never understand. So, he had taught her how to wield her elemental power of earth. Senka had learnt to keep the shadows away, but she knew they lurked. Waiting to strike. She could feel them now, like and invisible hand of comfort. A whisper assuring her she was not alone.

  “And so, it is with this prayer that we send King Dritan to the guardians of the faewood. May his soul be weaved with the ancient trees, and he be at peace.”

  Senka jumped slightly, not realising that she had been swept up in her own memories while the ceremony had taken place. She watched as the holy nymph performed the blessing speaking in the ancient language of Dresha. A blinding light of the deepest purple engulfed the courtyard. Once it settled, her father’s coffin was gone. Carried by the magic of the holy nymphs to the faewood to be welcomed by the guardian.

  “Thank you all for being a part of this ceremony. If you would like to return to grand hall, there is food and wine waiting for you. My father would not want you to think that his hospitality stopped upon his death. We shall celebrate him, and toast to the great king he was. I’m sure we have many great memories of King Dritan,” Oran spoke to the crowd.

  There was much murmuring, but Senka blocked it out as she followed in numb silence towards the grand hall. She would slip away as soon as she could. Escape to her quarters and grieve her father in the comfort of her shadows.

  2

  It had been a week since the summer court had paid their last respects to their king. Preparations for Oran’s coronation was underway, making Senka feel like they couldn’t wait to get the new king on the throne. All the guards and officials she had spoken to seemed pleased to have Oran take power. There was talk of a much needed change to Colar, but Senka wasn’t sure if they were speaking truth or if they were too scared to speak out against their new king.

  Senka had noticed a change in her brother since the funeral. He had become more hostile and arrogant. The power inflating his ego, causing him to make decisions that had forced Senka to act quickly upon to stop the threat of war. Oran had no idea about the politics of the court. He had spent so little time with their father. Senka knew Dritan had hoped that she could guide her brother when he came to rule. That would have been a brilliant plan, if her brother cared to listen to her. Instead, Senka had to rely on the ear of Lina, who seemed to know everything that was happening within the court, to tell her the Oran’s crazy ideas and give Senka just enough time to stop them happening. She would then deal with the wrath of her brother after, but that was better than a war with the unseelie.

  Oran’s coronation would be in three days. The High Fae travelling once more to Colar to be at the ceremony. Senka knew that some had stayed in the city, beyond the castle walls. Not bothering to make the journey twice. She didn’t blame them. Especially those from the Court of Ice. Though she wasn’t sure they were enjoying the warm weather, their skin and blood so use to the bitter bite of the winds in their lands.

  Senka stepped into the sea garden and took a seat next to the statue of her father. She needed a moment to breathe. To gather her thoughts and to be surrounded be serenity instead of the bustle of decorators and che
fs.

  “If I have to try one more cake. Or agree to one more colour scheme, I will go insane,” Senka said out loud to the statue of her father. “It seems Oran is incapable of making any kind of decision on anything to do with his coronation. It makes me wonder what he will be like deciding on important matters. Though in the last week I have stopped two attempts at war on the unseelie. I really don’t understand why he hates them so much. I know they are the dark fae, but they have shown no threat to us.”

  Senka let out a breath, closing her eyes and turning her face to evening sun. She wished she would understand her brother’s mind so that she could assure him that the unseelie were no threat to them. Taking a deep breath, opening her eyes to look back at the only physical memory she had of her father. She missed him. Ever since he had gone, she had felt alone. An outcast in her own home. She would catch her brother looking at her in a way that put her on edge. She had wondered if Oran had found out about her control over shadows, but she had pushed the thought away, remembering that Dritan had promised her it was their secret to keep.

  “Your grace, I have been looking for you everywhere.”

  Senka turned at the sound of Lina’s voice, seeing her maid and closest friend rush towards her, a look of panic on her features. Senka stood to greet her, holding up her hands slightly in a hope to calm her friend down.

  “Lina, how many times have I told you to call me Senka? You are my friend first, my maid second. Please, you are the only person in the palace that I trust. When we are in private, I request you call me by my name,” Senka told her.

  Lina stopped, taking a moment to catch her breath. Senka led her to the bench she had just been sat on, forcing Lina down, and taking a seat next to her.