As I walked to the training area we designed and built, I began. Lunges all the way there, stretches to follow and then sword skills until my mother called for lunch. I was panting when I walked in, rubbing the age-old blisters on my hands. Always sure-footed, I stumbled as I saw my father sitting at the table.
“Father? Why are you home?”
I squinted slightly at my mother, and she shrugged, placing food at the table.
My father cleared his throat. “Did you not hear the horses? Did you see nothing that would indicate a person other than your mother would be here?”
“No. I didn’t. I must have been too focused on training today. I’m sorry, Father.”
He leaned in with a conspiratorial smirk. “Or I’m just sneaky.” As my father pulled an envelope from his chest pocket and slid it toward me on the table, my mother took her seat.
“Ara saw the strangest thing at the Beltane celebration. Didn’t you, dear?” She jutted her chin for me to take over the conversation.
Instead, I pulled the invitation from the red envelope my father handed me. Shit. “Another? So soon?” Every part of me wanted to throw the invitation in the garbage. The ache of my workout settled into my bones as I slumped back and looked up at my father’s comforting eyes.
He smiled softly and reached across the table to pat the top of my empty hand. “Cheer up, Ara. Better to be invited than left out.”
I handed the invitation to my mother and angled my head to the side. “Must I go again already? This one’s in four days.”
Shock registered across her face as a small gasp left her. I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my smile at her dramatics.
“You must go, darling. We can never deny the palace. Your father works so hard for them. This is probably just the king’s way of thanking him. After all, you are still unwed. And at your age—”
I leaped from the table and stomped out.
Of course I was still unwed. Faeries are cruel and scheming pricks who rarely thought of anyone but themselves. My parents raised me to think differently, to have compassion, but that also came with my father’s incessant need for me to learn to defend myself. One could never be too careful. He had seen far more in his life than I had, and that’s why it was so important to him. Because, if one day he didn’t come back from the Hunt, I’d be able to defend my mother and myself. That was practically the theme of my childhood.
Back to training I went, never stopping to ask why my father came home for lunch. Probably to deliver the damn invitation I didn’t want. I spent the entire next day working harder than ever with my old bow and perfecting my quiver draw with a sword in my dominant hand. Then, I had to pack and, once again, play dress up at the castle.
At some point during the two-day journey back to the palace, I found the silver lining. Maybe I’d see the human again. Curiosity and all that.
It was the end of spring, but hot as a grendel outside the day of the unexpected ball. I wore mostly sheer fabric and comfy shoes because I had no one to impress. Thankfully. Fourteen guards aligning the entrance, welcomed me. Guard number four shifted most of his weight to his left leg. An injury? As I entered the familiar ballroom, I wasn’t surprised to see it so full. Most of them looked as if they hadn’t left the castle since the last time I was there. Tendrils of cascading blooms and tiny lights hung from the vaulted ceiling, giving the room the feeling of being lost in a covered garden, while the flowers perfumed the ballroom with a saccharine scent.
I looked immediately to the dais to see which royal courts we were entertaining, convinced that’s all this was. Our faerie king throwing his weight around to make sure everyone knew his might. I had never talked to him, never even made eye contact with him. I’m not sure who sent the invites for palace celebrations and ridiculous fairs, but it sure wasn’t him.
There he sat alone, watching the room with a knowing eye and a pitcher full of ale in his hands. He turned to speak to one of his advisors as I continued down the stairs. Half-naked faeries danced in circles around the great room, laughing and oh-so merry. As always. Tables were set up tonight. Sitting. This was new and, honestly, so welcomed.
I pulled a chair out and my eye caught the human again. His hands were empty, and he had been granted a bath and a clean shirt. Blue like the sea. Hmm. How kind of his keeper. I watched as he walked from one side of the room to the other and then back again in a perfect, slow march, his eyes fixed straight ahead. What an odd command to give him. More so, why did no one seem even slightly intrigued by the odd behavior? Not a glace, not a whisper. Was he so below them that he warranted shunning?
I turned my gaze, just as I saw Morwena looking directly at me.
I dropped my head and looked away. As my pulse quickened, I took deep breaths. Did that just happen? Why was she looking at me? Unable to check to see if she was still staring, I twisted in my metal chair and it squeaked on the marbled floor. So. Loud. The face of the fallen pixie flashed in my memory. My face flushed. My heart hammered in my chest. The temperature in the room became sweltering. I needed air. Now. I slowly stood from my table and started toward one of the empty balconies with privacy curtains. I raised my head, expecting all eyes to be on me, but no one in the room had noticed me. Not a soul. Apart from the queen. Still, I couldn’t check to see if she was still watching me. I never wished to see those fierce blue eyes ever again. Fae had died for less. I slipped outside and gasped in the night air as if I were drowning.
Something in the air had kept me on edge all evening, and with Morwena’s lethal gaze locked onto me, I just couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that I’d missed something important.
I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned in surprise and came within inches of easily the most beautiful male I had ever seen. The way he looked at me through those emerald eyes . . . I thought I’d crumble, just like that. I swallowed audibly. Without thinking, I raised my hand to touch the stubble on his chin.
What the hell?
I yanked my hand down and crossed my arms behind my back. He tapped his foot, waiting for me to say something.
Not a single word came to my addled mind. I’d just been startled half to death in a room full of a thousand people I didn’t want to be around. But this wasn’t his court. He wasn’t in charge here. I narrowed my eyes, and the change in my features must have intrigued him. I had every right to stand there. I raised my chin and waited. My mother’s game.
“Hello, you,” he said in an oddly familiar way, although I was confident we’d never met. “Couldn’t stay away from the castle, I see?” he asked, changing his tone, tilting his head to the side. Mocking me?
“No,” I answered, holding my ground. “You get invited, you come. That’s how the process works. Choice is not a factor.”
“It rarely is,” he said, moving closer. The pale light of the moon turned his skin into a dark hue of blue, matching with the undertones of his raven hair.
“Who are you?” I stepped back.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
Desire could turn into ire so quickly. “So, you are just like every other fae asshole on the planet.” I clapped in his stupid, pretty face. “Good for you. Just needed to be sure.”
“It’s probably best to head home then, Ara.” His jaw clenched, and I could feel the rage pouring from him like a fountain. I had no idea what I’d done, but Gods was he mad. He watched the room behind me. “Now.” A tinge of power danced within his words like the lilt of a melody.