Until the stars fall, p.1
Until the Stars Fall, page 1
IMMORTAL REVERIES 1
Vanessa Rasanen
Crab Apple Books
CONTENTS
Dedication
Author Note
Map
Pronunciation Guide
Prologue - Lieke
Chapter 1 - Lieke
Chapter 2 - Connor
Chapter 3 - Connor
Chapter 4 - Lieke
Chapter 5 - Connor
Chapter 6 - Lieke
Chapter 7 - Connor
Chapter 8 - Lieke
Chapter 9 - Connor
Chapter 10 - Lieke
Chapter 11 - Lieke
Chapter 12 - Connor
Chapter 13 - Lieke
Chapter 14 - Connor
Chapter 15 - Lieke
Chapter 16 - Lieke
Chapter 17 - Connor
Chapter 18 - Lieke
Chapter 19 - Connor
Chapter 20 - Lieke
Chapter 21 - Connor
Chapter 22 - Lieke
Chapter 23 - Connor
Chapter 24 - Lieke
Chapter 25 - Connor
Chapter 26 - Lieke
Chapter 27 - Connor
Chapter 28 - Lieke
Chapter 29 - Connor
Chapter 30 - Lieke
Chapter 31 - Connor
Chapter 32 - Lieke
Chapter 33 - Connor
Chapter 34 - Lieke
Chapter 35 - Connor
Chapter 36 - Lieke
Chapter 37 - Connor
Chapter 38 - Lieke
Chapter 39 - Connor
Chapter 40 - Lieke
Chapter 41 - Connor
Chapter 42 - Lieke
Chapter 43 - Connor
Chapter 44 - Lieke
Chapter 45 - Connor
Chapter 46 - Lieke
Chapter 47 - Connor
Chapter 48 - Lieke
Chapter 49 - Connor
Chapter 50 - Lieke
Chapter 51 - Connor
Chapter 52 - Lieke
Chapter 53 - Connor
Chapter 54 - Lieke
Chapter 55 - Connor
Chapter 56 - Lieke
Chapter 57 - Connor
Chapter 58 - Lieke
Chapter 59 - Connor
Chapter 60 - Lieke
Chapter 61 - Connor
Chapter 62 - Lieke
Chapter 63 - Lieke
Chapter 64 - Connor
Chapter 65 - Lieke
Chapter 66 - Connor
Chapter 67 - Lieke
Chapter 68 - Lieke
Chapter 69 - Connor
Chapter 70 - Lieke
Chapter 71 - Connor
Chapter 72 - Lieke
Chapter 73 - Connor
Chapter 74 - Lieke
Chapter 75 - Connor
Chapter 76 - Lieke
Chapter 77 - Connor
Chapter 78 - Lieke
Chapter 79 - Connor
Chapter 80 - Lieke
Chapter 81 - Connor
Chapter 82 - Lieke
Chapter 83 - Lieke
Chapter 84 - Lieke
Chapter 85 - Lieke
Chapter 86 - Connor
Chapter 87 - Lieke
Epilogue - Connor
Thank you for reading
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright Information
To the hopelessly romantic, stupid-in-love, heart-on-the-sleeve
individuals who love with all their being:
Never change.
Author Note:
This book contains some strong language, physical and verbal abuse (secondary character), non-graphic deaths of animals, sexual intimacy on page with tame language.
A “spice rack” is provided in the back for readers who prefer to know when to expect intimate content.
PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
Lieke: LEE-kuh
Connor: CON-er
Durand: der-AND
Brennan: BREH-nen
Matthias: muh-THY-uhs
Orelian: uh-REH-lee-uhn
Calla: CA-luh
Vael: VAYL
Nevan: NEH-vuhn
Cian: KEE-uhn
Ellae: EH-lay
Emeryn: EH-mer-in
Arenysen: uh-REH-nuh-sehn
Dolobare: do-lo-BAR
Engle: EHN-guhl
Linley: LIN-lee
Shoerda: SHOR-duh
Fairden: FAYR-duhn
Prologue
Lieke
I was still holding the bloody knife when they found me.
I didn’t know what they were yelling, because my attacker’s last words echoed in my ears.
I didn’t fight them when they grabbed me, because I couldn’t look away from the male at my feet.
I was no stranger to death, but facing my own was a different story altogether.
I still had hope, though, because I had a friend in the royal family.
He could save me. He could protect me.
But he didn’t.
His father flicked his fingers in the air and ordered the guards to take me to the dungeons, where I’d wait for the gallows. My friend didn’t speak, didn’t move except to look away from my desperate eyes, pretending not to hear my pleas for help.
He was a coward, and I told him that, screaming it across the crowded room.
This couldn’t be happening.
This couldn’t be how it ended.
A voice cut through the air, yelling, “Stop!” but it wasn’t the voice I had expected, wasn’t the one I wanted.
I might have been saved from the gallows, but how would I survive what came next?
CHAPTER 1
Lieke
Love killed my mother. I wouldn’t let it hurt me.
My mother died shortly after my father when I was barely old enough to understand. The healers said her heart had broken, weakened by the loss of her husband, and my young heart scrambled to protect me from the same fate. I promised myself I would never be one of those lovesick fools. I would never give my heart over to another or let my entire life revolve around someone else’s affections.
I held fast to that vow as I focused on learning my mother’s craft, taking her place in the palace kitchen, until the day the fae prince waltzed by. My heart never stood a chance with him, not when his smile rivaled the sunrise and his green eyes outshone the damned stars. We might have only been friends, but when he looked at me, I forgot my promise, and I nearly forgot I was a lowly human and a servant. I almost believed he would one day love me in return.
Then the queen died, and everything changed.
The nation lost their queen.
He lost his mother.
I lost my best friend to his own grief.
I tried to forget him and let him go. I might have succeeded too, if I hadn’t been stuck working as a cook in the palace. Unfortunately, it was one of the only safe places for humans in Emeryn, and it was the only home I’d ever known. So I stayed and tortured myself in the process.
“Where is your mind off to now?”
I looked up from the dough I was kneading—or was supposed to be kneading—to find Mrs. Bishop peering at me from under her long lashes. The tips of her pointed ears poked through her graying hair that was trying to escape the pins she’d attempted to tame it with.
“What?” I asked, trying to buy myself some time to find an excuse by pretending not to have heard her question. The head of the kitchen staff was kind enough, but I wasn’t particularly in the mood for her teasing today.
“You’re neglecting that dough as much as Prince Brennan neglects his duties, Lieke,” she said, pointing her finger at the pale lump under my hands.
“Oh, right,” I stammered. Why did she have to mention him? I shook my head—as if I could shake his name from my thoughts—and threw myself back into my task, slamming the heels of my hands into the dough before turning and folding it and repeating the movement.
“So?” the fae pushed. “What’s got you distracted today, Sunshine?”
My brow tightened as I concentrated on working the dough. “Just thinking about Mother,” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie at least. Mrs. Bishop could taste lies in the air as easily as she could taste the food she prepared.
She hummed but thankfully said nothing more.
The door to the kitchen flew open, pulling our attention to Marin, one of the only other humans still employed by the Durand family. Her bright red hair fell over both shoulders in two tidy plaits, and a bright smile lit up her freckled face, her brown eyes dancing with excitement.
“You should see the ballroom!” she gushed, running into the kitchen and leaning against the worktable in the center. “And the terrace! His Majesty has really gone all out this time.”
Mrs. Bishop snapped her chin up and jabbed a finger in the air at Marin and then at me. “Don’t
Marin rolled her eyes and dismissed the old cook with a wave of her hand. “Oh, Mrs. B. You worry too much. I’m not insisting we crash the actual party, but nothing in the king’s command says we can’t be out and about before the guests arrive. How else would we be able to prepare everything?”
“Still. It bears repeating. You know the reason for his rules. You know the—”
“Yes, yes,” Marin said around a sigh. She wiggled her fingers in the air. “We know the danger.”
Mrs. Bishop shrugged and resumed her chopping. “Just as long as you know.”
Marin scooted around the table and sidled up to me, giving my ribs a good elbowing. “So, want to come look?”
I didn’t stop my kneading and didn’t look at the woman. Though we weren’t friends exactly, I liked her well enough. She wasn’t as catty as most of the fae staff, but I didn’t have time to go gallivanting around the palace with her. I shook my head before tossing my chin toward the balls of dough stacked in a pile on the table.
“I can’t. I have all of those left to prepare still.”
Marin’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed again. “What good is having a mostly fae staff if they can’t use some magic to make the work go faster?”
“Tell me about it,” Mrs. Bishop said with a quiet laugh. “If only all fae were gifted with such talents.”
The image of Brennan’s scowling face popped into my mind—a memory of one of the many times he had lamented to me about how unfair it was that his older brother, Connor, had a gift when he didn’t. What that gift was, I didn’t know. The humans in the palace weren’t allowed to know, and if the fae staff knew, they didn’t tell us—which was surprising, given their propensity for gossip.
The memory shifted into Brennan flashing one of his cocky grins.
With a growl, I slammed my hands into the dough.
Why did Marin have to talk about magic?
And why did every stars-damned topic have to remind me of him?
“Whoa there, Lieke,” Marin said teasingly. “What did that bit of dough ever do to you?”
My face warmed from embarrassment, and I swiped the back of my hand across my brow in a shit attempt at hiding it.
“I just want to get my work done so I can get back to my room for the night,” I said, hoping the fae across from me couldn’t detect the lie on my tongue.
Marin lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine. I’m going.”
As she spun on her heel and made for the door, I caught Mrs. Bishop staring at me again. I didn’t need magic to recognize the knowing gleam in her eye. When the door closed, I dropped the dough onto the table and met her stare.
“What?” I asked, though I could already guess her response.
She pointed her knife at me, but her brow crinkled with more of a worried expression than anger. “Don’t do anything stupid, Lieke. This is a bigger party than usual, with a much longer guest list.”
I selected my words carefully, sure to keep them all within the realm of truth. “I know. After I finish up here, I’m going straight back to my room.”
After scrutinizing me for a moment longer, she finally returned to her work, saying, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sunshine. The king has his rules for a reason.”
“So you’ve reminded us, Mrs. Bishop,” I said. “I’ll be careful.”
It was no lie either—though my definition of careful likely differed from hers.
I had grown up in this palace and on its grounds, exploring and observing. I knew my way around as well as anyone else, and I had places I liked to go, places no one else ventured. Every season the Durands held a party like this for all the fae nobles, and I had attended every single one of them. Even if only in secret.
Prince Brennan may have walked away from our friendship, but on these evenings, from among the trees, I could pretend that maybe—just maybe—I still had a future with him.
Tonight, though, I refused to simply watch and dream.
Tonight, I would take a chance.
Tonight, I would talk to him.
Once all the bread loaves were prepared and left to rise, I waved to Mrs. Bishop and headed straight for my room. No, I didn’t plan to stay there all night as required, but there was no way I was going to wear my flour-dusted, butter-smeared clothing tonight. While I knew the unlikelihood of Brennan showing up at our old hiding spot, I refused to look like a simple servant.
Even if that was all I was.
Back in the servants’ hallway, I nodded and gave a tight smile to two fae maids as they hurried past me to take on the duties of the humans who would be confined to their quarters for the evening. If they were upset about this arrangement, it didn’t show on their faces. Inside my room, I closed the door and leaned back against it, letting my body crumple under the exhaustion. My arms ached from the morning’s work in the kitchen, and part of me wanted to fall into my bed and rest. Stars knew the extra sleep would do me good after the week-long preparation these parties demanded of the kitchen staff.
But no.
As tempting as that was, I couldn’t.
I pulled open the doors of my mother’s old wardrobe and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the colorful array of clothing hanging inside. Soft velvets. Wisps of silks. The remnants of my parents’ life before the war when humans and fae had lived in harmony and prospered alike. I had once asked Mother why she’d hoarded them since she’d been forced to wear the drab staff uniform. She had offered a one-word answer: Hope.
Marin had once insisted I seek some sort of closure by tossing out all of Mother’s belongings, but Marin didn’t understand grief. She didn’t understand me. I didn’t keep her clothes because I couldn’t let Mother go; I kept them out of the same hope my mother had held onto. A hope that life in Emeryn and beyond might go back to how it once was, that one day fae and humans would live together as equals, partners, true neighbors.
What would it take to make that happen?
What could possibly convince the fae to stop blaming the humans for the war?
What might encourage the humans to forgive the fae for the oppression that came with the treaty?
My gaze landed on the simple white dress tucked along the left wall of the wardrobe. Mother’s wedding gown.
Marriage.
Love.
“Love can conquer all evils, sweet girl.”
My mother had said that so many times, and I’d believed her.
Until love hadn’t protected her from death.
While I’d never believed the healers’ claims regarding the cause of her death, I couldn’t deny how the light in her spirit had dimmed when my father was killed on that distant battlefield.
With a shake of my head, I pushed the past out of my mind and pulled out the dress I had selected for tonight. It was a simple gown of navy-colored satin overlaid with delicate lace. I slid out of my work clothes, leaving the dirty garments piled on the floor as I quickly moved to the small basin of water in the corner. Dipping the washcloth into the too-cold water, I washed away the day’s sweat and grime with the amber soap Marin had given me for my birthday last year.
I didn’t have time to wash my hair, but I was able to brush out the tangles at least. Using the mirror above my desk, I carefully pinned up my blonde waves, leaving a few tendrils to fall here and there. A pinch of my cheeks to give them color and a swipe of rose pigment across my lips, and I was ready for the dress. Carefully I stepped into it, lifting it over my hips and bust before sliding my arms into the cap sleeves. Thankfully the dress had a low backline, which allowed me to secure the buttons without assistance.
When I dropped the hem of the dress back to the floor, the reality of what I was about to do settled into my stomach. I clasped my hands over my gut in a futile attempt to quell my nerves. Slowly I drew in a breath and counted backward from ten before exhaling.
I could do this. I had to give my heart a chance, and tonight was as good as any other.
Yes, I might walk away with a bruised heart, but I would wake up tomorrow knowing I had at least tried.
CHAPTER 2
Connor
I wished my father had put an end to these royal parties when my mother died. But at the same time, I understood why he continued to host them. Planning the festivities, having the castle decorated with her favorite flowers, bringing in the musicians, requesting that all her favorite foods be prepared—this was his way of holding onto her.
