Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Hidden scars always find a way of tearing open, if you heal them too quickly.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Hearing the bells chiming in the distance, Ivy leaned against the crystal doors to the garden. Though the sun warmed her skin, she was unable to stop the chills from entering her body—her heart. Each time she tried to close the door on Conn MacRoich, a memory from the past ripped open the hurt.
She’d spent the entire night tossing and turning within his bed, recalling every detail of their conversations, including the last one from a few days ago. Ivy wanted to scream at him when she saw him. Yet, when he stepped away from the bookcase, she stopped breathing. Gone was the man in leather, replaced by the Prince of the Fae realm. And her heart grew heavier.
He’d bargained his own life for hers. Could his pain mirror hers? Her love for him consumed her—making it impossible for Ivy to breathe at times. However, a part of her ached to hear what he never professed. Words of love.
He may have called her his love, but it wasn’t the same. Perhaps he never fully loved her.
Glancing upward, she shook her head. “You bring me into the light, but take back the most treasured gift you gave me. You. Or was it only a piece, Conn?”
Ivy wrapped her arms around her body. This was not her world. It was his. The longer she stayed, the more the pain would consume and destroy her.
She turned at the sound of soft knocking. Sighing heavily, she wandered over and opened the door. “Good morning, Ronan.”
“Good morn to ye, lovely lady.”
Ivy gestured him inside. “The bells sound beautiful. I’ve never heard them before.”
“Aye, they are.”
Collecting her slippers off the terrace, she asked, “What are they for?”
Silence was her answer, and she turned around. “Conn?”
“His coronation is today.” He retrieved her silk shawl on one of the chairs and held it out to her. “Where would ye like to venture today?”
Her heart pounded so loud, she thought it would burst. Squaring her shoulders, Ivy grasped the material to her chest. “There’s only one place.”
“Excellent. Where?” he asked.
Ivy draped the material around her shoulders. “Take me to Conn’s coronation.” Shock registered on his face, but she held up her hand. “I only require to stand at the back for a few moments.”
“I dinnae deem it wise.”
Ivy grasped the warrior’s hands. “Grant me this one last request, please? If I must give him back to you, I would like to witness some part of his coronation.”
He closed his eyes on a sigh. “Now I understand why my prince could not resist your charm.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
As they made their way out of Conn’s chambers, Ivy glanced over her shoulder at the massive room, trying to etch every detail into her memory.
Closing the door softly, Ivy placed her hand on Ronan’s outstretched arm. He led her along the corridor and down the marble steps. She traced her fingers along the vines circling the banisters. Sunlight, bells, and birdsong greeted them as they left the royal house. Moving the length of the inner gardens, they passed fountains and canopies flowing with ribbons. The scent of lush flowers filled her with each step.
Ronan escorted them around a bend on the path and through a stone archway covered in roses, gardenias, and lilacs. Beyond, the area opened up and she witnessed another crystal palace. This one in hues of green and gold with massive turrets on either side. Banners fluttered in the light breeze—each depicting a dragon.
With each step, they drew closer, and her nerves tingled. She bit her lower lip, but held her head high. Approaching the steps, Ivy took a deep breath in and released it slowly. The place reminded her of a magical castle. She counted four turrets, glistening like icicles against a sapphire sky. “It’s stunning. Beyond words.”
“Aye. ’Tis the Cathedral of Trees.”
“Excuse me, but this doesn’t look like it was carved from any tree.”
“They are inside.” The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice.
“Incredible.”
“Can ye manage the climb?”
“How many?” She turned her gaze upward to the open doors.
“Ninety.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I’d rather not.”
In a flash, Ronan transported them before the entrance of the cathedral.
Swaying slightly, she firmly grasped his arm. “You could have warned me.”
Ronan chuckled low. “My apologies.”
“Why ninety steps?”
“For the nine dragons that came with our people. They are the elders, the timekeepers of the Veil of Ages. Though they have left us, they dwell in the cosmos, along with their descendants.”
“I’m in awe of your people.” Releasing her hand, Ivy moved forward.
The cathedral was vast and filled with many of the Fae. They gathered around trees that did indeed tower inside. A soft glow of lights flickered from all the branches. Casting her sight upward, she smiled. The ceiling resembled the night sky, glittering with the brilliant light of stardust. It was a place of worship and called out to her. She ached to move forward and join the crowd.
When the first trumpet sounded, she focused her gaze to the center. In the far distance, standing under an arched trellis covered in vines, stood Conn. Her Celt was magnificent in his royal blue sleeveless tunic edged in silver and gold. Silver bands encircled his upper arms, and Ivy fought the desire to be near his side.
Ivy recognized his mother standing apart from him. She had her hand on a man’s arm. His features were similar to Conn’s, and Ivy believed him to be the king.
She stood motionless, watching as Conn took his place in front of his parents. She swallowed, trying to force the lump away.
As the second trumpet blared, Conn knelt. The king took the thin crown from the queen, and placed it on Conn’s head. Ivy barely registered the words spoken, but she felt them within her own heart. Bells chimed loudly and Conn stood. Beautiful song burst forth in a chorus of many voices. Offering her own words of prayer, she took a step back.
Fighting the tears that threatened to spill, she whispered, “I will never forget you. Years will pass, but by no means will there ever be another.”
“He did not tell ye?” asked Ronan softly, stepping beside her.
Ivy kept her gaze steady. “Tell me what?”
“That he was a prince? Left the Brotherhood? Gave his vow to his king?”
She sighed. “Yes, he told me everything. But he left out the most important words I had hoped to hear.”
“Which would be?”
Ivy let the tears fall freely. “Not once did he ever tell me he loved me.”
“It is difficult for ye to comprehend, since humans require the spoken words. However, a Fae professes their love within the mind, heart, body, and soul.”
She shook her head in dismay. “And as a human, those same spoken words would resonate in those very places you mentioned.”
“If I can offer some insight, Conn did truly love ye, Ivy.”
Turning toward the Fenian Warrior, she placed a hand on his arm. “Nevertheless, it wasn’t meant to be. Please return me to my home. I do not belong in this world—his world.”
“As ye wish, my lady. But first, preparations must be made for your journey back to the other world.”
She glanced once more into the cathedral. “Will they take long?”
“No. I must send a message to another Fenian Warrior. Time moves differently in your world than ours. I must return ye to a certain point in time.”
Ivy frowned. “How long have I’ve been gone?”
“Many months, but dinnae fear. When I take ye back, it will only be a few weeks.”
“But who took care of my cat, Neala?”
He chuckled softly. “She was cared for by your friend, Sean Casey. Conn mentioned the feline when he brought ye to our world.”
“Good. I am ready,” she uttered softly.
With a wave of his hand, Ronan transported them to the gateway in front of the giant oak trees.
Ivy clutched a hand to her chest, trying to ease the pain of leaving. Unable to stop the flow of tears, her vision blurred.
Ronan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The warrior has informed Sean Casey of your arrival. He will help to spread the story of your recovery from the accident. The timeline has resumed.”
Wiping away her tears, she turned to Ronan. “Thank you. Your world is beautiful. I appreciated the time you took in showing me everything and being patient with all my questions. I will miss you.”
Ronan placed a fist over his heart. “I am your guardian, Ivy, in this world and yours. If ye should ever require my aid or have a question regarding your health, please call forth my name.”
“Health?”
The warrior smiled and nodded. “Your blood flows with the Fae. Ye will find that ye will heal quickly.”
She rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Good grief. Anything else I should know?”
“Only time will tell.”
“Thanks.” Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, Ivy inclined her head toward the trees. “Take me home.”
****
Fresh snow draped the trees in a blanket of white creating a magical effect around her cottage. Holding her mug of tea against her chest, Ivy stared out the kitchen window. Several weeks had passed, and the melancholy refused to leave her side. It kept her company and at times, held her prisoner in her own home. She’d tried fighting the ache within, but its claws had settled deep inside her heart.
Therefore, Ivy kept busy at the Celtic Knot. Nan and Roger had proved to be diligent and hard workers. They’d maintained the store to a pristine and profitable condition during her short absence. Preparations were now being made to hire a local storyteller for the children on Saturday mornings, and Ivy let Nan oversee the interviews.
Peter Gallagher had returned and given his account to the Garda. The villagers were furious with his involvement, but soon took a softer approach for Nan’s sake. When he walked into the Celtic Knot, Ivy patiently heard his apology, and then sent him on his way. Her wounds had not healed, making forgiveness extremely difficult to give the man. Perhaps in time, she told him.
The Garda had even questioned her when Mike Banister suddenly dropped off the planet. When they asked her about Conn, she informed them that he had returned to Dublin and should seek him out there for further questioning. They would never know the truth—Conn was gone forever, and Banister vanquished to another time-period, so Ronan had shared with her.
Her days might be filled to the brim with work, but the nights were a disaster. The utter loneliness and torment of never seeing Conn entered her during those long, dark hours. Her life would never be whole, and Anne Fahey’s words came back to haunt Ivy.
“I don’t want to become a bitter old woman,” she cried out.
Neala rubbed against her leg, and Ivy blinked. Placing her cup on the counter, she bent and scooped up the soft feline. Nuzzling her close to her face, she sighed. “I must find a way to move forward from all this encompassing grief, my friend. It’s not healthy. And I’m beginning to hate Sundays with nothing to do.”
The cat purred within her arms.
Giving Neala one more scratch behind her ear, Ivy gently put her down and went to retrieve her coat. Brushing her hand over Conn’s leather jacket hanging in the closet, Ivy had found she couldn’t bear to get rid of the only item of his in her home. Letting out a sigh, she closed the door softly.
Making her way out of the cottage, she paused by the garden gate. Her beautiful garden flourished even in the harsh weather. She would be forever grateful to Conn for transforming a broken mess into a stunning paradise of flowers, vegetables, and herbs. Her refuge. Trailing her fingers along the wood, she smiled.
Moving onward, Ivy followed the path to the one place she had never inspected. The stables. Her steps hastened as she approached the place through a cluster of pine trees, the snow crunching under her feet. Halting before the structure, she gazed upward. “Wow. Did you mean to have a lot of horses, dad?”
Approaching the two stable doors, she let out a sigh of relief. “Good. No keys needed.” Lifting the latch, she pushed them open. Stale air greeted her as she stepped inside. Yet, the place was in spotless condition. Ivy walked down the center, counting ten stalls—five on each side. The place was equipped with everything required in keeping a horse.
Instantly, an idea was born.
Twirling around, Ivy almost squealed in delight. Cupping a hand over her mouth, she tried to stifle the laughter—the sound foreign to her ears. Inspecting each of the stalls one more time and taking note of everything else, Ivy quickly made her way out of the place.
Entering her house, she picked up her phone and sent a text to Sean. Not waiting for his reply, Ivy grabbed her purse and headed toward her car. Maneuvering the car carefully out and onto the main road, she tried to contain her excitement.
While in the Fae realm, Ronan had shown her a pasture where many horses were grazing. At the time, Ivy was still recovering, and he refused to let her ride. She pleaded and sobbed, saying it would be good for her health. Bribing a Fenian Warrior didn’t work either, so she had to be content with watching the magnificent animals from a distance.
What she longed to do was ride a horse through the Irish countryside. And there was one horse she was determined to find. The one that had saved her.
Steering onto the path near Sean’s home, Ivy parked off to the side. Quickly shutting off the engine, she opened the door and stepped into a pile of soft snow. Shaking her head, she carefully made her way to the front door.
The man greeted her on the front steps. “I was about to head to the Seven Swans. Care to join me?”
Beaming up at her friend, she replied. “Love to.”
“Good. I’ll drive,” he stated over his shoulder as he went back inside his house.
“Scared of my driving?”
Sean returned and locked the front door. “Always.”
She grabbed his arm. “At least I can chat while you drive.”
As soon as they got inside, Sean turned toward her. “It’s good to see a smile on your bonny face.”
“I’m tired of this heaviness in my heart,” she uttered softly. “Did you know I was out to the stables for the first time today?”
He laughed and started the engine. “No. I assumed you had already inspected them on your first tour with Peter.”
Ivy snorted. “He never showed me the place.” Waving her hand about, she added, “They’re amazing. Did he…dad have any horses?”
Glancing in both directions, Sean turned the car down the main road. “Yes. He had several many years ago. It was his goal to teach horseback riding lessons. Sadly, after you and your mother left Ireland, Thomas abandoned his plans and sold the animals.”
Ivy peered out the foggy window. “I plan on acquiring a horse. It’s a beautiful place and should have one…or two.”
“Excellent news. Thomas would approve. How have you been feeling?”
She eyed him skeptically. “I’m very well, thank you. You don’t have to fuss over me. You’re as bad as Erin. She’s constantly bringing me food and touching my head to make sure I’m not running a fever.” Ivy pointed to her body. “Remember, Fae blood inside me.”
“Yes, but—”
“Stop,” she interrupted. “I’m having a happy moment. Don’t spoil it for me.”
Smiling, he nodded.
Turning into a parking space near the pub, Sean turned off the engine. As Ivy exited the car, light snow fell softly on her face. Lifting her head, she welcomed the dusting of flakes.
Making their way inside the warmth of the Seven Swans, Mac waved at Ivy and Sean in greeting. The place was packed with villagers, and Ivy noticed a band setting up in the back. One of the musicians winked at her. If this was some other time, I might have considered winking back, but not now and maybe not ever.
Ivy leaned near Sean. “Let’s grab a booth away from all the noise.”
“Are you sure? They play a mean fiddle, along with great storytelling.”
She shook her head. “Baby steps, Sean. I’m learning to take them slowly toward civilization. Now let’s take a seat, so you can tell me where I can find someone to help me tame a wild horse.”