“I don’t want to help the fae.”
I laugh, an involuntary reaction to the absurdity of it all, but her expression remains serious.
She doesn’t share in my humor, her frown deepening as though she’s staring at the embodiment of her worst nightmare.
“But,” I stretch my arms out, indicating my perfect form, “we’re like gods to you people.”
Her brow rises, skepticism etched across her features. “Uh, not really. You’re more like… the monsters who live under our beds, and I don’t want to spend any more time with those monsters than I have to. So, just indicate the way home, and I’ll leave… so you can find another chosen one.”
After nearly a hundred years waiting for her? I think not.“Listen?—”
“No.” Then she turns and starts running.
I sigh deeply and begin to chase her. I easily reach her with my longer legs, and I scoop her up, tossing her over my shoulder once more.
“No!” she yells, her fists hammering into my back.
I ignore the thud of her punches, but it’s hard not to chuckle. The little human is not only foolish but also quite persistent. Perhaps someone will be able to explain this all to this dense creature in a better way than I did.
“Stop it!” she shouts, continuing to kick me. “I’m not going!”
I pat her ass lightly, a playful gesture meant to lighten the moment. “We’ll get along just fine, you’ll see. You’ll be our chosen one, and we’ll be your protectors.”
But even as I say it, a part of me dreads the task ahead. Dealing with a stubborn human is one thing. Dealing with the other fae kings is another.
This is going to be a long journey.
6
Alette
I standin the center of a luxurious room that feels like it belongs to someone else, definitely not me, but the fae had told me that this is where I’ll be staying from now on.Staying. He said it like he thought I was a guest, and one that should have been honored to be so. Even though I’m not. I’m a prisoner being treated like a queen.
“What do you think?” the human maid asks as she smiles while fluffing the dress and carefully avoiding the magical dagger at my waist.
The gown I’ve been dressed in is a work of art, pale green with gold embroidery that glimmers in the firelight. It clings in ways I’m not used to, the fabric swishing against my legs with a soft rustle that feels entirely alien to my skin. I shift uncomfortably, the luxuriousness of it all a stark contrast to the rough, practical clothing I’m used to. But it’s the dagger in a sheath at my waist that really bothers me, the weight of it pressing down on me.
The blade feels... alive. The hilt is bone-white and smooth, cool to the touch, and the dagger itself gives off a faint, otherworldly hum that vibrates through the air. It’s not quite detectable in this light, a flicker of power that unsettles me. Every time I brush against it, a strange, tingling sensation crawls over my skin, almost like it’s trying to reach into me, to connect with something deep inside.
But what it wants from me, I don’t know.
The thought of carrying such a weapon feels like I have a heavy weight on my chest, but I’m wearing it anyway, because a blade that can hurt a fae might not be the worst thing to carry when I try to escape this place. Unfortunately, I can’t just try running to freedom. I have to be smarter. I have to find my way out before they do whatever they plan to do to me, because I seriously doubt their goal is to have me take them through some labyrinth.
Fae are liars. All they want is death and pain.
“It’s… lovely,” I tell her softly, forcing a smile as I glance at myself in the mirror.
My reflection stares back. I don’t look like myself anymore. My long dark hair has been brushed and styled loosely around my shoulders, and flowers have been woven into a few small braids, tiny bursts of color that seem out of place when my soul feels cloaked in shadows. Something that sparkles has been brushed across my cheeks, and dark lines encircle my eyes, making them look even bigger and more vulnerable than they normally do.
“I’m glad you like it,” the other servant, Ellie, tells me, her tone cheerful but strained, as though she’s trying to convince herself as much as me.
The human servants, two women about my age, flutter around me like birds, their movements quick and efficient as they adjust my gown and hair. Everything about them ispolished: smiles, voices, even their footsteps. But then, if my life was always at risk, working for the fae, I might be the perfect servant too.
“Why do they need me to dress like this?” I ask, a knot of confusion tightening in my stomach.
I can’t imagine what I wear or don’t wear should be important to them.
Ellie glances at me and smiles politely, but her eyes waver… Sympathy? Guilt? I don’t know. “It is tradition, my lady.”
