Page 12 of Kingdom of Betrayal and Unknown

A growl has my head turning toward the Fae, searching to see who made the sound. But no one is looking at us or doing anything out of the ordinary. Looking at Skylar, I take in her reactions to see if she heard anything, but she isn’t looking around.

Did I just imagine that?

But as the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, I know I didn’t imagine it.

He’s here.

My eyes scan the crowd again, desperately trying to find the familiar cobalt blues. Who do they belong to? Why do I feel a connection toward them? But as I scan the surrounding area, I don’t find them. They aren’t anywhere in the crowd of humans and Fae.

Disappointment fills me as I look at my best friend. If I could paint those eyes, I would. I want to but I know I can’t. I can’t draw or paint for shit but maybe I could save up more money and have someone paint them for me so I can always look at them. Admire them and get lost in them whenever I want to.

A dream.

Skylar takes my silence as agreement and starts talking again. “I could never be queen. I know you said before that I could, but I can’t. You are good with people, sophisticated.”

I shake my head. “I am not. Have you seen how awkward I am?”

“Yes, I have. You help people all the time without even knowing it. Prince Archie has probably seen how amazing you are with people. You’ll need to change if you want him to forget you.” Skylar chuckles. “I know I work in a shop and interact with customers, but I’m not a natural like you are.”

“If I don’t know I’m doing it, then it’s going to be hard to change,” I mumble as we walk up to my house. “But you would do far better than me. You are the more sophisticated one out of us. You are more proper.”

“Just carry on being you. It will probably turn him off when he realizes you aren’t going to change for him.” Skylar pulls me into a hug. “You’re going to be okay. It won’t be the end of the world if you get married to him.”

“You don’t know that. We don’t know anything about the royalty and how they work. They keep to themselves,” I point out. “For all we know, he might marry me and then kill me. No one would know. No one would ask questions if he went searching for another wife.”

“Until now. You may discover that he isn’t as bad as you think. You may be able to change his mind.” Skylar shrugs. “Whatever you do, don’t be disrespectful. I don’t want my best friend and her family to be banished to another realm. We don’t know anything about what happens to people who go there and whether you can come back here or not.”

I shiver just thinking about my family disappearing right in front of my eyes on the king’s say so.

No. Whatever I do, we are not going to get sent to Tarravega.

“Just promise me you won’t get banished,” she begs.

“I’ll try my best.”

CHAPTER 4

It’s been several days since I heard from Prince Archie. I don’t know if his arm is actually broken, if he’s still in town, or if he’s in the other town where he was supposed to be. No one has come to tell me anything.

Maybe that’s a good thing; they’ve forgotten about me.

Excitement fills me as I think about that possibility. I’m not going to say anything to the guards who walk around our town. I don’t want to bring attention to myself. What if asking a question puts me on his radar again?

Yeah, no, I’m not going to do that.

It would be suicidal.

Sweeping the floors, I brush everything out the front door before turning to my mom, who is sitting in a chair, sewing. I stare at her for several seconds, taking her in. Her light brown hair is braided to the side. Her slender fingers hold the needle steadily as she sews the two pieces of fabric together. My mother is beautiful, her eyelashes curling up, looking so voluminous.

Something I didn’t inherit.

I’ve got my father’s eyes and eyelashes. Almost blond, straight eyelashes, and brown eyes. My mom has hazel eyes with green specks in them, everything shining brighter when the sun shines on her face. My hair is completely different from my mother’s and father’s.

It’s white.

No one else in town my age has white hair. My parents don’t know where I got it from since neither of them has it nor their parents either.

It sets me apart in everything I do. No matter how many times I sweep it to the side or try to hide it, people stare. “Adeline?” my mother asks, looking up. “Is everything all right?”