He shakes his head in disbelief. “So cruel, to make you live a whole life in just one shape! You must be so lonely.”
I want to laugh, but the sadness in his eyes is real as he asks his next question. “Did you really live alone, with no sisters? No one to comb your hair? To pick the burs from your fur?”
He says it like it’s the most tragic fate on earth. I shrug. “I didn’t really have a say in the matter.”
He pulls a face, as if I’ve confessed to eating dirt.
A nymph leans across the table, cleavage spilling, and tells Ashton, “We’ve never met a fae king before. Is it true you can make the wind obey you?”
Ashton winks and makes a little show of swirling the air around her with one finger. The nymph gasps, delighted, and claps her hands. “He’s so powerful!” she declares to her friends, who all titter behind their hands.
Ashton gives me a helpless look. I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling.
Zomas watches us, fascinated. “You two are… what’s the word? Lovers?”
The question is so direct that for a second, I choke on my wine. Ashton recovers first. “Partners,” he says. “In every way that matters.”
Zomas beams. “Partners! How lovely. The goddess must be so proud. She hates when fae and humans fight.”
I wonder if he knows about the wars, the blood, the centuries of hate. He acts like it’s all a game, like none of it ever really mattered.
The night gets louder as it goes. The satyrs stomp and sing, pounding the table with fists until the plates bounce. The nymphs spin each other in dizzy, ecstatic dances, their laughter rising over the music. More guests arrive, including a fox-headed woman in a dress of leaves, a trio of little stone-skinned men who speak only in rhyme, a boy with antlers and a mouthful of fangs. None of them seem to care that I’m a stranger, a human, even a Chosen One. They treat me like royalty, at least for tonight.
But the whole time, there’s a pulse under it all. The sense that everyone is performing, that at any moment the curtain might drop and the real show will begin.
Part of me doesn’t want to see it.
As the feast drags on, I find myself drifting. The food, the music, the endless chatter… it blurs together. I laugh more than I mean to, and my words start to slur. Ashton catches my hand under the table, squeezes, and leans in close.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice suddenly serious.
I nod, but I can’t focus on his face. “Just tired,” I say. “And maybe a little drunk, even though I was careful.”
He gives me a lopsided smile. “Don’t let them see weakness. Start pretending to drink until your head clears.”
I grit my teeth and try to look sober.
Zomas is still watching us, his eyes flicking from me to Ashton and back. When I meet his gaze, he smiles so wide it almost splits his face. “You know,” he says, “you remind me of someone.”
“Who?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He taps his horns, thinking. “There was a girl fae, a long time ago. Not royalty. Just a wandering fae. She challenged thelabyrinth, just like you. Refused to be afraid. She made it all the way to the center.”
“What happened to her?”
He shrugs. “No one remembers. Some say she became a star. Others say she became part of the maze itself.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just pretend to sip my tea and watch the lanterns. They look like faces I almost recognize, but every time I try to pin one down, it changes. That’s right… they’re changing. That’s why I can’t see to peg them.
The air gets heavy, close. The laughter turns meaner, a little too sharp. The satyrs argue over who can drink the most without passing out. The nymphs start a contest to see who can seduce the shyest guest. Someone throws a whole pie at someone else, and the room explodes in food and shrieking. I duck, but a gob of cream hits me in the face.
Zomas roars with delight. “Alette! You are officially one of us now.”
He wipes the cream from my cheek with a clawed finger and licks it off. “Perfect,” he purrs. “Human flavor, with just a hint of sweetness.”
I try to laugh, but I just feel frightened.How does he know what human tastes like?
Ashton stands suddenly, pulling me up with him. “Thank you for your generosity, Lord Zomas, but we must go. The maze will not wait for us.”
