“He isn’tactuallythe king though, right?”
“No, he’s the actual king.” He crosses his arms, jutting his lower lip. “I can’t lie, lady.”
The blood leaves my face. I avert my gaze to my tray, taking a keen interest in my next piece of bread while I puzzle over the information I’ve gained. The fae may not be able to lie, but does that count if one believes false information? Surely, that grizzled creature is not the king.Mynew king. I go over everything I’ve heard about the royals of Faerwyvae, particularly the Winter Court. I know each court is ruled by two royals, a seelie and unseelie king or queen, and all humans and fae living in that court owe allegiance to both. Either can be petitioned, but as I understand it, most humans deal with either the seelie ruler or the court’s human representative. But even if humans have little to do with the unseelie king, wouldn’t the people of Vernon know if he lived nearby? That he’s a wolf? Looks like a crazed mountain man? And what about his name? I’m sure it’s been mentioned…
My mind draws a blank.
It reminds me of when Imogen and I were talking yesterday. She mentioned that little is known about the unseelie king, but when she went on to say more, she just stopped talking and seemed a bit lost for a moment. I thought nothing of it then, but now…what in the name of the saints is going on here?
I chew my bread and wash it down with more water. “So, when you say you don’t remember your names, does that include the king?”
He nods.
“Then how do you know he’s truly the king?”
The boy shrugs, unconcerned. “We just know. He’s been king forever. Longer than that, probably.”
I eye him through slitted lids. “So, you remember he’s the king, but not his name. How is that so?”
Another shrug. “It’s the curse. Curses are stupid and they do stupid stuff.”
I tilt my head back. “Wait, thecurse?”
“Yeah, are you gonna eat that?” His eyes are locked on the last bit of bread.
Part of me wants to continue eating so I can keep him here longer, extend our conversation. I still have plenty of water left for that purpose, though. “Go ahead.”
He takes the remaining bread and stuffs it in his mouth whole.
I lean forward. “So, about this curse.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” he says, words muffled through bread.
“Surely, it affects you too.”
“Yup.”
“How, exactly,doesit affect you?”
He releases a grumble. “It’s so boring and dumb.”
I bat my lashes. “And yet, I’d love to hear about it.”
“Fine.” He plops down, folding his legs beneath him. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, a knock sounds at the door, sending him scrambling back to his feet. He yanks the tray from my lap and nearly throws it on the ground in his haste, then moves to the back of the chair to replace my bindings. Thankfully, he doesn’t tie them nearly as tight as whoever tied them before. Once the deed is done, he gathers up the tray and darts for the door. “I gotta go, bye!”
“Wait!”
He pauses, fingers on the door handle, and meets my gaze with suspicion.
Now that I have his attention, I’m not sure what to say. All I know is this boy could be an ally. And I most certainly could use all the allies I can get right now.
I give the boy a warm grin. “Will you try to get me a bigger piece of bread next time? That way we’ll have more to share.”
His face brightens as he nods.
“Oh, and if you don’t like the name the king calls you—Scrappy, is it?” He frowns. “Yes, I see. Can I call you something else? How about…Micah?”
For a second, his face breaks into a vibrant smile before he steels it behind a mask of nonchalance. “It’s okay, I guess. For a human name.”
