“Come on. I will take you to Láthair Milis. It’s the best spot for sugary delicacies.”
I nod eagerly, my mouth watering with the promise of delicious sweets. “Lead the way.”
A mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and the side of his mouth turns up in a grin. Holding out his hand, he reaches for mine. Slowly, almost hesitantly, I place my hand in his. Without hesitation, he flips our hands, he laces our fingers together, thefeeling of intimacy making my stomach flutter with excitement and apprehension.
“Nothing to be nervous about, Stóirín. You are safe with me.”
“My safety isn’t what I’m nervous about,” I blurt.
Maxon stares back at me, almost curiously. “Dare I ask?”
My cheeks flush and I shake my head. “Let’s go.” I smile, trying to hide my emotions, but we both know how he is making me feel.
The aroma of exotic spices wafts through the air, enticing me to sample the culinary delights of foreign lands.
As we walk through the crowd, I am surprised to see a lot of different fae creatures. I see a few tiny pixies and I wonder if Nix knows them.
The merchants trade their wares, their voices weaving a cacophonous tapestry of languages and dialects. Some I understand, others I don't. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask Maxon why I can understand languages I’ve never spoken, but something holds me back.
We come to the end of one street and on the corner, a mysterious apothecary named Elören displays jars of glowing potions that sparkle like the afternoon sky. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I pause to investigate the peculiar jars and vials on the shelf.
Spells, maybe? Curses?
I hesitate to ask, not wanting to reveal my human nature. Nearby, an enigmatic fortune teller with a cloak as dark as midnight reads the future in the shimmering depths of a crystal ball, her words drawing a hushed crowd. I really want to see the fortune teller. Something about being in Faerie makes it all seem so real. Mia and Scarlett would always scoff at the idea of gettingour fortunes read, calling it a scam and a waste of money. I'm the opposite. Always drawn in by the mystical.
Amidst the clamor, fae children dart around shoppers with wide-eyes, some tug at their parents’ sleeves, begging for colorful trinkets and magical baubles. So many stalls are laden with vibrant fabrics and embroidered silks catching my eye. This must be where Zaria got the fabrics for the dresses she had made for me.
Maxon doesn't hurry me, instead letting me take in everything at my own pace. His hand is still firmly clasping mine, gentle and comforting. The sharp clanging of metal on metal resonates through the air as we pass the blacksmith. I watch in awe as he swings the hammer with precision, never breaking his momentum. The weapons and armor that line his walls are so intricate, they look fit for fae heroes and warriors.
“George is the best at what he does,” Maxon whispers next to my ear, making me jump.
“His pieces are beautiful.”
“They are.”
Maxon tugs my hand, and we round the corner into a quieter street.“Here we are,” he says as we stop in front of a sweet little shop that seems to be carved from a gigantic tree trunk.
Above us, the canopy spreads out, creating a natural roof, with pink and orange flowers delicately decorating each branch.
“Oh my gosh, it’s gorgeous,” I breathe, dropping his hand and peering in the small window. The shop is filled with baked treats and the smell . . . the smell is heavenly. The aroma of cinnamon, sugar, and chocolate waft from the open window, making me feel warm and cozy.
The door to the shop is much too small for Maxon or I to fit through, but I don’t have to worry, because a short fairy walks out, holding several bags.
“Maxon, my boy!" she exclaims, her round face breaking into a joyful grin.
Maxon raises his hand, covering his chest, and bows his head. “Coraline,” he replies almost affectionately.
The fairy’s wings flutter with excitement as she holds up the bags for all to see. Her light pink eyes are like nothing I have ever seen before and are perfectly complemented by her purple pixie cut. What really fascinates me are her wings. The shimmering colors are so vibrant that they remind me of a rainbow after a storm.
Her wings are so captivating that I am oblivious to the fact that they are speaking to me. Maxon’s hand lands on my shoulder, snapping me out of it.
“Everly, I’d like you to meet Coraline. She has been baking me sweets since I was old enough to walk.”
Coraline steps forward, taking both my hands in hers. “Maxon has never brought any girls to meet me before.” She gives me a coy wink before continuing, “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? And not skin and bones like all those other court fae.” Dropping my hands she flies around me. “You have a body.”
Oh my god, bury me now!
Maxon chuckles. “Don’t mind Coraline, she doesn’t seem to have a filter today.”
