Father’s eyes bulged out of his head.
I sucked in a harsh breath.
Oh Fae. I shouldn’t have said that.
I sputtered quickly, “I am so sorry, Louie. That was unkind of me. Please forgive me. Your… brown eyes look so very lovely with your green skin tone.” I tried not to gag as I spoke, swallowing down bile.
Fairy, I blundered that something terrible. I couldn’t even manage to apologize correctly right now. But, I’d tried?
Father shook his head and rubbed at his forehead.
“With those sweet words uttered, you should go back to where you came from.” Red Louie closed his eyes. “And just so you know, Princess Trixie, I find you fucking ugly, too. Looking at you makes me long for my own kind again—and they are far worse than we are.”
Father sucked in a sharp breath—startled—and barked, “I expect you home at a decent time tomorrow, Trixie. And watch out for any damned Fae!”
A tingle warmed my chest…
I barely caught myself from toppling face first against the shifter king’s desk, back underneath it in a squatting position. I glanced down at myself. I wore my disgusting elf merchant attire again—still caked in gore. Red Louie could have at least made it clean.
I pressed my left eye to the crack, spying on the rulers.
King Athon’s nostrils flared—with a darted glance my way.
King Traevon caught his black shirt that was fluttering down to the floor from where I’d been. He shook the shirt at a certain gremlin, snarling fiercely, “You should have left her in this, Louie. It’s been half an hour since she left. The situation could have changed.”
Red Louie giggled. “I assure you, it hasn’t. She’s quite safe.”
I rolled my eyes.
My poor father looked vaguely ill, though. “I didn’t really need to know that. Just telling me that she was safe would have worked fine.”
“Let us leave.” Black Louie began walking to the door, opening it and leaving, not looking at anyone else and not caring if they followed or not.
Blue Louie grabbed a shifter-made cigar off a stone table, and followed along, while Red Louie yawned and strolled with him. Gold Louie still gnawed on his bronze treat, the last in their line to walk out, entirely captivated by his own chewing.
King Elon leaned his seven feet of height to the side, glancing out the door and making sure the Misfits were gone. He straightened after a few quiet moments, chuckling with much amusement. “I hope that tiger statue wasn’t important to you, King Athon.”
“Even if it was, I wouldn’t want it back now.” King Athon grimaced. “Did you notice the bits of drool that pooled at the edges of his mouth? His spit is black.”
Queen Alora spoke in her normal screeching, high voice, seemingly, unable to talk quietly. “Shall we meet here the day after tomorrow, right outside of King Athon’s castle to start the journey to Trumbalay?”
The other rulers nodded in agreement.
“Do not forget to pack your ice climbing gear,” King Athon rumbled as an afterthought. “And make sure it is not rusted. Overlooking your equipment for this climb would not be wise.”
Fairy, I didn’t have any. Why would I?
Father would need to help me with that. I didn’t even know what to look for. I would be a burden on the climb; the gorgon king had been right on that point. I hoped they wouldn’t be too harsh with me, since they wouldn’t even know where to begin this quest without me. I was nowhere near their ages and had not experienced as much as them.
King Athon gestured to the door. “If there is nothing else to discuss…”Get the Fae fuck out of my kingdom, he left unsaid—but still very much heard.
The four other rulers said their polite goodbyes and then walked from the room, tired as Fairy from their long day.
King Athon stood in the doorway, peering into the hall, the door handle in his right hand. He questioned softly, “Bishop, do you have them handled?”
“Of course,” Bishop answered—bored. “What about you? Do you need help with the issue in there?”
“Not at all. I’ll have this under control in just a moment. You may go.” He shut his door, turned to face his desk and marched straight toward it with a furious, resolute gleam in his eye.
