I flinch. “Please. No need for the formality,” I say quickly, a wave of discomfort flooding through me. “I’m… Alette. Just Alette.”
Both of their smiles falter, but Ellie answers, her gaze still polite, almost apologetic. “No… no, we’d prefer to stick with a proper title, if we could, my lady.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding uncomfortably.
I’m not a lady. I shouldn’t have servants, fancy dresses, or a room like this. All of this feels wrong. Like I’m a pig being fattened up for the slaughter. A sense of dread grows inside of me.
I should be glad to be away from my grandparents. From the deal they were making with Mr. Clay that makes me sick to even think about. I should be glad for a break from the back-breaking labor it takes to run our farm, and the days spent in constant anticipation about what else I’ll do that will upset my grandparents and end in a punishment, but I’m not. I’m anxious. This is all bad. I know it.
Nothing good has ever come from the fae.
“What do the fae want with me?” I don’t know why I ask. The fae rule these two women. They’re never going to tell me the truth.
Lily looks away from me, fidgeting with my skirt again, the fabric shifting beneath her fingers. “They’ll make that clear toyou, my lady,” she murmurs, her eyes downcast, avoiding my gaze.
“Is all of this honestly about some labyrinth?”
Without addressing my question, Ellie says, “You really do look lovely, though.” There’s an empty quality to her words that makes me feel like there’s no world in which we would be friends.
Still, I try. I ask them about themselves, their lives here, anything that might make me feel a little less like an outsider. But they only respond with vague pleasantries, their answers light and airy, as if they’re reciting lines from a script they’ve memorized but don’t truly feel.
It’s like they’re puppets. Not people.
I let out a frustrated breath, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I glance around the room. The walls are carved from smooth, light stone, polished to a shine, reflecting the soft light in a way that seems almost magical. The bed is draped in silks that look more expensive than anything I’ve ever seen, the fabric shimmering with an opulence that feels entirely out of place. It’s beautiful, yes, but all I can think about is getting out of here. Getting back to town, to Goose and the villagers, and enjoying those handful of perfect days I get when I visit town.
There’s a sudden knock at the door, the sound sharp and jarring, making both servants freeze, their cheerful expressions faltering like a candle flickering in the wind. One of them hurries to open it, but as soon as she sees who’s on the other side, she shrinks back, her confidence evaporating like mist in sunlight.
A man steps into the room, and the world tilts on its axis. My heart races, a frantic drumbeat echoing in my ears. He’s impossibly beautiful, as beautiful as the King of the Earth Fae, but in a different way. His features are sharp and otherworldly, carved by some divine hand. He has piercing blue eyes that seem to see straight through me. Long brown hair frames his face, thestrands flowing like liquid chocolate, and his presence fills the room, making it feel too small and suffocating.
Another fae.
“Leave,” he snaps at the servants, his voice a commanding growl.
The servants dip their heads and scurry out without a word, their retreat leaving me alone with the frightening fae. I swallow hard, my pulse hammering in my ears as he closes the door behind them with deliberate slowness, sealing us inside together. The silence that follows is thick, almost suffocating, pressing down on me like a heavy blanket.
Then his gaze locks onto me once more, icy and unyielding.
I stand up straighter, determined not to let him see how much he unnerves me. I can’t show weakness. Weakness will only make it easier for them to hurt me.
He strides toward me, his movements graceful but predatory, each step calculated as though he’s sizing me up for a meal. When he’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs my chin, tilting my face up so I’m forced to meet his gaze, and an electric shock courses through me at his touch.
He studies me with a scowl, his expression a mix of disdain and intrigue. “This is it? You’re the human everyone’s been going on about? You’re just a small bruised thing.”
I jerk my chin out of his grip, the contact sparking a rush of adrenaline. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met…”
He answers simply, his tone dripping with condescension. "I’m King Oberon."
I curtsy clumsily, not sure what else to do. “I’m Alette.”
“You don’t look special,” he mutters, his words more to himself than to me.
Still, my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “I never claimed to be.” Then I press my luck. “Which is all the more reason to just send me home.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Of course it can’t be that easy.I instinctively take a step back, the realization sinking in that I’m trapped.
His gaze shifts to the dagger at my hip, a spark of interest igniting in his eyes. “Is that it?”
