She hesitated, standing back, hand out, then snatched it and ducked behind her mother’s apron again. A second hand reached out—another child, cheeks smudged with ash, eyes too old for such a small face.
More came forward, silent and watchful.
The villagers at first seemed curious about me, but more came out, bowing their heads, taking the fresh fruit and loaves of bread that we had provided.
Warmth flowed through my chest.
They weren't looking at me with hatred.
More fae peeked through windows, and doors opened just a sliver of a crack. The braver fae came forward, some of them sodisheveled they looked like they'd been rolling around in the mud.
These fae should be treated better. This village sat right outside the castle, no more than a mile away.
A hush settled over the crowd, and not the peaceful kind.
Wind rolled through, stirring the nearby petals.
Then came the first hiss of displeasure: “Human scum.”
I turned around, looking to see who’d spoken, but it was so soft, almost a whisper.
A crowd gathered in the square, creeping closer. The guards tightened their formation.
Something wet and cold smacked me in the side of my face.
I froze.
A slow, viscous drip slid down my cheek and into the corner of my mouth. Sour. Rotting. My stomach turned, and I stumbled forward, dropping the basket. The fresh bread rolled into the mud.
“Stand back!” one of my guards said.
A tomato launched at my face, smacking me and splattering me in a spray of red. I gasped, my vision blurring from the vegetable guts splattered into my eyes. The sting of humiliation hurt worse than the rotten tomato.
Raking my fingers across my face, I fought back the tears. If I cried now, in front of all these fae, any respect I’d tried to earn would be gone instantly.
I couldn’t appear weak.
A guard stepped in front of me, unsheathing his blade and charging at the peasant.
“No!” I said, knowing that so far, vegetables were my greatest threat. “Don't hurt them.”
Laughter broke out from somewhere behind the crowd. Then came the next barrage—faster, heavier. The stench of overripe fruit filled the air like poison. The square became a blur of movement and color.
“Protect the queen!” Gideon screamed.
Covering my head with my arms, I ducked as various squashes and rotten food slammed into me, each smack a hit to my resolve. Head bowed, I did my best to cover myself.
Someone grabbed my arm. I looked at the villager who sneered at me, eyes fully black, two fangs hanging over their bottom lip. I didn't want to use my magic and hurt these people. These were supposed to bemypeople now.
A guard ripped the villager off, shoving them to the ground and putting an arm in front of me.
“Get the queen out of here!” Gideon screamed, though I couldn’t see him anymore.
The crowd hissed. Some villagers argued with each other as if it wasn't everybody who seemed to hate me.
Pieces of soggy cucumber and stale bread stuck to my hair. I picked them out with shaking hands.
A guard grabbed me by the waist, pulling me out of the crowd.
