This place feels like a nightmare.
I guess itisa nightmare. A nightmare I swear I've had before.
Time passes. The kings seem to forget me, but I can't forget them. It's like forgetting the sun in the sky, or the moon in the night. Their energy surrounds me.
I glance at the man I've triedreallyhard not to look at. I catch sight of intimidating King Oberon, who sits at the head of the grand table, a dark figure surrounded by the three fae kings… and me. Each of the kings radiate a presence that commands attention from everyone in the room. It’s almost overwhelming, the way they hold the room in thrall.
I’ve never been around people like them before. Maybe it’s because they’re fae. Maybe it’s because they’re royalty, although nothing like the royalty I’m used to, certainly not like the lord back in town, but it feels like they have their own gravitational pull, a force that draws everyone’s regard.
I remember reading an old book in the town library about planets, stars, and the pull of the universe. How those celestial bodies drift in perfect harmony yet remain entirely separate from one another. These four men remind me of those entities in that book, their power palpable and intoxicating.
King Oberon is drinking heavily, his scowl ever-present, a dark cloud that hovers around him. Every so often, the heat of his gaze sweeps over me, a scorching feeling that prickles across my flesh like static electricity. I can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at me. Contempt? Disgust?
I shiver involuntarily at the thought. Grandfather was always crueler with his strap after a few drinks.Will the kings be crueler too?
King Cassius, seated beside him, is blatantly studying me, his pale blue eyes narrowing with an intensity that makes me feellike I’m a creature under a microscope. One he can’t quite figure out. I meet his gaze, and it feels like a challenge, a silent battle of wills.
What does he want from me? What do they all want?
King Ashton keeps catching my gaze, his expression flirtatious, a playful glimmer in his eyes as he winks at me. Which is, frankly, just plain confusing. I don’t know how to respond to that. My cheeks flush with heat, a response I can’t quite help, and I look away, focusing on the delicate patterns etched into the tablecloth instead.
And then there’s King Sylvian, who is grinning at me, a warm, inviting smile that makes him appear almost… eager? Eager for what? To see me experience this whole mess? It’s just weird.
“So, Alette,” King Ashton drawls, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence. “Tell us about yourself.”
My nerves spike, and I fumble for words, my throat dry as I struggle to respond. “Uh…”
“Don’t worry, we don’t bite,” King Sylvian reassures me softly, placing his hand on mine across the table, which feels strange.
In an instant, King Oberon’s gaze snaps to our hands, and rage flashes in his expression. It’s a sharp contrast to King Sylvian’s gentle demeanor.Why does he care so much if our hands touch?
I draw my hand back, curling it in my lap, my pulse quickening. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of whatever volatile dynamic plays out between these kings.
Across from me, King Ashton sprawls back in his chair, looking bold and unafraid, an impish grin gracing his lips. “Speak for yourself, King Sylvian. I definitely bite.”
His eyes find mine, and I blush again for reasons I don’t understand. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, what theyexpect from me. They… get that I’m their prisoner, right? They get that I don’t want any of this?
“Let’s get back to the question. If this is going to work, we need to learn something about Alette,” King Cassius interjects. It’s unnerving, the way he seems to dissect me with just a glance.
Both the fae and the kings are staring at me, and the weight of their expectation feels heavy. I fight against the urge to shrink back, to hide from their scrutiny.
“Wh-what do you want to know?” I finally stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
“How did you get that bruise on your face?” King Sylvian asks.
I touch my face and flinch. I’m so overwhelmed by my stress that I forgot about it. “I was hit by a guard when trying to escape.”
“Really?” King Ashton sounds fascinated.
King Cassius seems cautious. “Why were you running from a guard?
“They drew my name to be sacrificed to the… well… to you, so I tried to run.”
“I thought the humans were happy to be our sacrifices,” King Sylvian asks, looking confused.
A half snort laugh explodes from my lips. “Yeah, right. Do any of you want to be chained to an altar and violently killed?” I lift my hand to show the marks from the chains.
“She has a point. I mean, we’ve all taken our turns checking the altar,” King Cassius says quietly, and suddenly they all look uncomfortable.
