I glance at King Ashton and King Cassius. To my surprise, they rise to their feet and go to look for branches too. King Oberon looks relieved as he kneels down and starts the fire with his magic.
Walking close to the hedges and using my dagger’s glow to see, I lean down and pull out any dead branches I see, hoping we’ll be able to collect enough. I shiver, imagining the dark andcold night before us without a fire.We definitely need to get as much wood as we can.
“How are you enjoying our adventure so far?” King Sylvian asks, reaching down and snagging a branch beside me.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He smiles at me, a goofy smile that makes my heart beat a little faster. “I mean, it’s not that bad with our company, right?”
I don’t know what to say, but I'm surprised to find that I’m smiling. “No offense, but no one could make me want to do this willingly. Even with our deal, I’d run out of here if I could.”
His mouth turns into a pout for half a second before he’s smiling again. “I bet any of the fae women would’ve gone with us.”
“Then they’re fools,” I say, wincing. I know that I absolutely shouldn’t have said that to a fae. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You can say anything you want to us. We’re not all that sensitive. Well, King Oberon is, but the rest of us are fine.”
I bite my lip. “I just don’t want to be turned into mush or charred into bits.”
He looks at me funny. “You know fae aren’t typically that violent.”
“They are in my experience,” I say softly, memories of blood, screaming, and death flashing in my mind.
He touches my arm, and I jerk away. He looks down at his hand as if wondering if it burnt me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“It’s fine,” I tell him lamely, grabbing another branch and continuing to move.
Slowly, our arms fill with branches. Some are big. Some are small. But all of them mean a night with more warmth and less darkness.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, you know,” King Sylvian tells me gently.
I almost believe him. “Okay.”
After a minute’s pause he gestures down, “All good?”
I look at our piles of wood. “Yeah, I think this is good.”
We walk back to camp. “More wood, King Oberon,” I say.
King Sylvian snickers. “Okay, since we’re all on a deadly mission together, can we stop with the ‘king’ this and that? I feel like we shouldn’t waste our breath on titles at a time like this.”
“Agreed,” King Cassius responds.
King Ashton gives me a look. “I prefer my women to just call me Ashton.”
My cheeks. I’m not…hiswoman though.
“It’s a show of respect. Of our positions.” King Oberon looks unhappy.
King Cassius lifts a brow. “The next time we’re being eaten by vines, do you really want our rescue to be bogged down by ‘king so and so.’ It’s illogical.”
The other man is quiet for a long minute. “Fine.”
“Are you sure?” I ask quietly. “I’m not even a lady. I’m a peasant.”
King Sylvian looks surprised. “You’re better than a lady. You’re the chosen one. Should we call you 'chosen one' every time we speak to you?”
I blush. “No, of course not…”
