We walk past several doors as we make our way down the hall, and I try not to blush at the sounds of pleasure that emanate from behind them. I constantly summon my inner fire to keep my nerves at bay until Madame Rose pauses outside a door at the end of the hall. “Your merchandise awaits.”
I give her my thanks and enter the room. Inside is a modest accommodation with more gaudy crimson satin and papered walls. A vanity and wash basin peek from behind a dressing screen next to a narrow wardrobe. The only other furnishings in the room are a high-backed chair and a small bed. Upon the latter rests a petite female with lavender hair and pale green skin.
“Enjoy,” whispers Madame Rose before she closes the door.
“Welcome,” the fae female says without warmth. She lies on her side wearing a sheer nightgown, head propped up by one arm while the other hand is draped over her hip. Her pose would be seductive if it weren’t for the scowl etched over her face that no false smile could hide.
With slow steps, I approach the bed. She tenses as I near her, violet eyes trained on me, burning me with their hate. “Finally, I can take this off,” I say, pulling the enormous hat from my head and tossing it on the ground. With a sigh, I lower myself into the chair and adjust my bone-crushing corset to no avail. I can no longer stand restrictive human clothing, and corsets are the worst offenders. Another reason I should have come dressed as a man today.
But would Madame Rose have bought my disguise? I’ve barely begun to test my fae powers over fire, and glamouring others is a gamble. There’s no way I would have been able to conjure a physical glamour over myself.
Still, what’s done is done, and there is more yet to do.
The fae courtesan looks visibly alarmed by my behavior as she watches me from the bed. “Do you…want me to come to you?”
“No need.” I wave my hand dismissively. “We can talk as we are.”
She furrows her brow. “Talk?”
“Yes. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. There’s no need to sprawl out for my sake.”
Her eyes widen, and she makes no move to change positions. Meanwhile, I fiddle with the pins in my hair until half of it comes down from its achingly tight updo. For some reason, this seems to set the fae at ease. Slowly, she folds in on herself and moves into a seated position, shoulders hunched. “May I put on a robe?”
“Do what you will,” I say without looking at her. However, as soon as she stands and turns her back to me, I take the opportunity to study her. She’s smaller in stature than Lorelei, with narrow hips and dainty limbs. Thin iron cuffs circle her wrists and ankles, the skin beneath them visibly red. She approaches her wardrobe and retrieves a colorful robe. I’m about to look away as she drapes it over her shoulders, but my attention is snagged on something I can barely make out beneath the sheer back of her gown—two jagged marks over her shoulder blades. Scars.
Bile rises in my throat as I recall the sets of wings I saw in Mr. Meeks’ underground laboratory. Did any of them belong to her?
The fae returns to the bed, sitting at the edge. She leans back halfway, chest arched slightly forward, before she seems to reconsider. Straightening upright, she crosses her arms over her torso and fixes me with a glare. “I don’t understand what you want me to do.”
“Let’s start with your name.”
“Mikaela,” she mutters.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mikaela. I am Evelyn, Queen of the Fire Court.”
She rolls her eyes with a grunt of irritated laughter. “Right. So that’s the fantasy you came here for.”
I ignore her. “Are you a pixie?”
Her expression hardens. “I’m whatever you want me to be,” she says through her teeth.
“But what are you really?”
Another eye roll. “Yes, I’m a pixie.”
“What court are you from?”
“Summer.”
“I see. How many of your kind are there in the Briar House? Not pixies, exactly, but fae.”
She shrugs. “Seven, unless you count the children.”
The blood leaves my face. “Children?”
“There are two who haven’t been taken from their mothers yet.”
“Are these half-fae offspring born from relations had here?”
