I was a duty, not a choice.
Her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight knot, not a single hair dares to escape, and a golden headpiece cascades across her forehead with a red jewel in the middle. Her thin, tall, regal form is encased in a green gown, which is interwoven with red jewels. She looks every bit the noble lady she is. Her pointed ears are proudly on display, declaring her a full blood, not a half blood.
I know my place, I know my duty, and I even know how to act with the snakes of court. It’s a careful game which has been drilled into me since birth. Even now, I sit up taller under her gaze, head held high as one of noble birth should. I am taking a risk by bringing this up as soon as I am, since the last…argument was only a few weeks ago. But time is running out, and I need her to understand.
To, for once, let me decide my life.
“I overheard the kitchen servants. You are accepting suitors for me.” I narrow my eyes before brushing back my long, wavy silver hair—the fact that it’s free around my shoulders makes her twitch. It is not acceptable for a highborn fae to be wild. Uncouth. We should be perfect and presentable at all times.
A perfect lady.
Being flawless is unattainable, I learned that many years ago, but pretending to be so earns me reprieve from the incessant lectures.
As a peace offering, I brush my hair behind my ear, showing off the pointed tip and the silver, jewelled ear cuff flowing up the side of my ear and around the top. The tendrils are perfectly coiled and made by the very best jeweller in court. It sparkles in the sun, matching the silver headpiece and jewelled necklace I’m wearing.
Silver…for noble but single.
Even what I wear is chosen for me, showcasing my status to the world, our world, to flaunt our power and place in society. The buzz of the city is far away up here in our manor, which is situated close to the castle, so close the spires shadow the corners of our garden.
My father is also a nobleman and an advisor to the queen, so my mother was a smart choice for marriage.
Smart.
They married for money and power, for their place in society, not love, and now she wants me to do the same—carry on our family legacy, marry a nobleman, and have noble babies. I am to stick to my role, to be quiet, perfect, and something to look at but to never…never be outspoken. That is for the queen and her advisors. I am simply a noble, not a thinker.
A worker.
It’s a chafing position, always having to be so perfect. Sometimes, I envy the half bloods and brownies, even the changelings who hide within the forest. They have such freedom. They don’t need money or power, they can just be… I can hear their laughter from miles away, and their lives sound so full, blooming like the flowers surrounding us.
“Alejandra,” she begins, delicately placing her teacup down. The only sign of her displeasure is the wrinkle forming between her slightly narrowed emerald eyes. “It is our duty to our family and our people. You will marry. You have had too many years to make your own connections and choices, and you have squandered it. It is already decided, your father is meeting with the young nobleman now. He is an excellent choice, and already on his way to becoming an advisor. He’s smart, powerful, and a highborn. You will marry him.” She waves it away like it is already done and goes back to sitting around doing nothing.
As a bloomer, as they call her, she is the creator of the flowers and plants that make this court so perfect, therefore my mother is granted certain privileges. Like not working unless necessary.
If only everyone worked and we shared the weight of our court, because then there would be no need for people to starve. But that is an opinion to keep to myself, as I have been reminded on more than one occasion.
“You look tired,” she remarks, making me sigh.
I know better than to respond, to tell her of the dreams, the nightmares I’m having once again. She didn’t care when I was a child, and she will not now. She will blame my imagination, but something about those dreams feels so real.
And important.
Grinding my teeth, I stand gracefully and make sure my dress is not ruffled around me. A crease is for the poor, she always says. With a bow of my head, I press my chair in, the brownie already rushing to clean up after me. “Excuse me, Mother, I have work to attend to. Thank you for the tea.”
I turn and glide away, taking long strides, even in the heels I’m forced to wear. My silver gown parts down my thigh to show my golden skin, that of my father’s. I hear my mother call after me, but for once, I do not do the right thing, I keep walking. Tugging my hair forward to cover my ears, I slip through the manor’s back door and into the kitchen.
“Miss.” They all nod to me, and I nod back as I take an apple from the bowl on the side, making Cook snort and tap me with her spoon as she turns and catches me.
“That’s for dessert, silver one!” She cackles, scrunching her nose. As a half blood, her stubby ears are visible from her shorn hair, and she is darker and smaller than full-blooded fae. We are all tall and lean…well, apart from me. I’m curvy, a fact that neither escapes my mother’s disgusted sneer nor can even be blamed on poor breeding. No, that’s just me, the anomaly.
It makes life within the court harder, because I stand out. As if my powers and colouring did not already do that. I hear the whispers about me, and it is one of the reasons I haven’t chosen a husband like she wishes. No one wants me… Well, that’s not true, the ones who want me wish to marry me only for my name.
Not love.
A foolish concept, I know, but for some reason, I can’t quite give up on the idea.
I wink and lean down and kiss her rough cheek, something which would make my mother faint in shock. It is not done, we do not converse with those lower than us, but Cook is nice. She’s always good to me. Her plump frame bears my tears more often than we should probably admit, her arms holding me as my own mother’s never did.
“Oh no, one apple, how ever will we live?” I gasp as I step back and, with a wink, bite into it. “I’m going out. I leave you with the wicked fae overlord.”
She laughs again, smacking my hip with the towel. “Uh-huh, going to get yourself in more trouble, I bet?” She turns to stir the evening meal she is creating. “One day, Alej, you will get into more trouble than you can handle, and not even your silver tongue will save you.”
“Ah, me, a noble, in trouble?” I fake shock. “Unheard of, I am simply a good girl doing her duty.”
She jumps as we hear the telltale steps of Lewin coming down the hall. As the runner of the house, she controls all the staff and is very rude, and she won’t hesitate to report me to Mother. In fact, she would love it, the snake.
Winking again and pressing my finger to my lips, I slip out of the side door and finish the apple, wiping my mouth on the back of my fingers. The glowing tattoos on my hands light up as I wander through the dark servants’ passage, which takes me out to the side of the house where I can escape all those prying eyes.
Cook was right, though, I’m going to get into trouble.
If I am to be bound to a man of my parents’ choosing before the week is through, I will enjoy my life while I can.
I just wish I had a choice in how I would live the rest of it.
Slate
Leaves crunch and twigs snap under my paws, the birds and insects quieting as I stroll through their midst. The sun burns down on me as I wander alone.