Page 41

“Good. Now, as I was saying, you are to return to the palace tomorrow.” I moved to open my mouth to interrupt her and was given a scolding look. Hospitality dictated that she not be interrupted, so I snapped my mouth closed on my protesting question, and she forged onward. “We were not able to remove you from the King’s service for his crimes against you. But we were able to move you from his bed to his chambers.”

“So, I’m to continue to be his whore?”

The acid in my tone could have melted a continent.

“No. It seems his tantrum over your skills was able to be manipulated into his agreement never to sexually assault you again. Though, should you wish to enter his bed willingly, he will not be held back. You will serve as his chamber maid, however. No amount of convincing would dissuade him. I’m sorry, Cricket. I had hoped that perhaps we could have you stationed in the kitchens. They are not far from the temple, and I would have been able to keep a better eye on you, but it was not possible.”

I took a deep breath. So, I would be forced to see that bastard every day for the rest of my life, however long that would be. Or at least until I figured out a way out of here. And I would be getting the fuck out of here. Even if I had to take the Final Destination exit, I was getting the fuck out of Magh Meall. I would not be a pointy-eared daoire for eternity. But until that plan manifested into a solid one, I’d be patient and watch and learn.

“I guess that’s better than having to serve him on my back. His dick is weird. Are all Fae dicks that weird? Or is he special?”

The Bandrui broke into a musical laughter that filled the storeroom. “I cannot say I have had the displeasure of seeing His Majesty’s cock, but from what I hear from the courtiers, he is not especially gifted in any manner or way. Shame upon Bláth an Earraigh.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I know you said that humans don’t belong in the Temple of the Ascended, but”—I fiddled with the piece of milúll closest to me—“would it be possible for you to show me the temple? I’m curious to see the faces of your gods. You speak about them as if they are alive and familiar, like they might pop in for lunch sometime. I’ve never met someone who talks about their gods like that. I’d like to see what they look like.”

She curled a secretive smile over the rim of her water glass. “If you wish to meet the gods of Magh Meall, I can introduce you to them.”

I suspected from the way she watched me that I had asked something she had not only expected but had been waiting for. It was a peculiar feeling to feel like you had walked into someone else’s plotting. But there I was, sitting exactly where she wanted me all along.

I leaned back, watching her gloat as she snacked on the rich cheese, crossing my arms. “How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you been waiting for me to ask to meet the gods? Since you seem oh so pleased with the fact I did.”

“Mmmm, well, I had hoped you would call out for your own deity at first. I’ve always hoped to get a true believer of a human into our realm. To be honest, I had hoped you would be one. At first, at least. But after knowing you a little, I had hoped telling you tales about them would pique your interest in a particular one and I would be able to use your devotion as a means to convince the Ard Tiarna of that gods patronage to take on your name, to get you away from His Majesty. When you failed to do that, I hoped that you would show some sign of interest in them so that I might tutor you in their ways. Perhaps knowing them would give you some comfort in the ways of the Fae. Truly, though, it was selfish. I’m an old woman who loves the sound of her own voice and having dedicated my life to the Temple of the Ascended, means that I love telling the stories of my friends and gods.”

I listened quietly as the Fae laid out the twists of her plans for me. These were the most innocent of the intentions that would come from a Fae, but I enjoyed seeing how the Fae mind worked. There was always an angle, always a next step, always a backup plan.

When she called herself an old woman, I made a show of lifting one of my brows and letting my gaze slowly move over her. If this is what an old Fae looked like, I might get on my knees to their gods and pray to be transformed into one.

She was tall, slender, and willowy. Her hair was the deepest red-orange I had ever seen, like autumn-kissed oak leaves falling in a myriad of braids adorned with metal cuffs and chips of flashing stones, cascading down her back to behind her knees. Her ears were pointed, decorated with a wash of gold paint at the tips and studded with metal rings and polished ivory bone.

The Bandrui was a creature of ethereal beauty with a kiss of a suntan and a spray of freckles across the center of her face. Her nose had a ring of gold drawn through it. Her lips were almost always stained in the middle from milúll or blackberries, which were her other favorite. She wore a snowy pale-blue tunic-style gown over her toned youthful body embroidered with creeping blackberry bushes and the occasional spiral. On each one of her slender fingers was a collection of boar ivory rings with sigils carved and stained into them.

If someone had asked me to describe an elf, back in Human, I probably would have come up with something akin to the Bandrui. I would have never come up with something so beautiful, though. If Violet had told me the Bandrui was one of their goddesses, I would have easily believed it. She was radiant both in personality and appearance.

She laughed at my slow appraisal of her. “Look all you wish, Cricket. You will find that Fae do not age the way humans expect. Some of us not at all.”

“That must be uncomfortable for your mothers. Or will you next tell me you are born from eggs like dragons?”

“Dragons give birth to live younglings,” she snapped, as if disappointed in me.

“What.”

“Dragons. They give birth to their children like humans and Fae.”

“No, no. Sure, they give live birth. I understand what that means. But you’re saying that like you’ve seen it.”

“Several times.”

“Dragons are real.”

“As real as you or I. Why does that shock you?”