Chapter 4 In Which I Explain My Cat’s Name #3
“If you’d just told me what game you were playing, we could have worked together,” I said. “There was no reason to trap me here.” Away from my family, I couldn’t say. Couldn’t remind him they existed, lest he bring them to me.
He tapped his fingers on his chin. “This game, Lady of the True Dreams, is older than your life, and has consequences far broader than your existence. Let us be honest with each other.”
I stared up at him, frustrated with myself more than anyone else in the room.
I’d trusted the faeries, because they were pleasant to be around and, though I was loath to admit it, pleasant to look at.
And… because I truly wanted to believe they were trustworthy.
Faeries were supposed to be better than humans—or at least worse in more interesting ways—not play the same stupid games as us.
“Honestly? I want to go home.”
Doctor Kitten must have smelled my brains steaming with rage, and stuck his nose in my ear to investigate. I pulled him away, never taking my eyes off the Princeling.
The Princeling sat up, impassive. “This is home for you now, my lady. As your lord, I will give you a task in our lands. You will teach my people about your people, and in this way prepare them to enter the mortal realm safely.” He paused, considering. “More safely than the vampires did, at least.”
I opened my mouth.
Blinked at him.
Closed my mouth.
“Are you—are you serious, right now?”
The Princeling looked surprised. “Yes.”
“You want me to teach a human class?”
“I would not call it a class,” he said. “Perhaps a lecture, or a practicum.” He tapped his fingers on his knee, staring over my left shoulder. He looked a little uncomfortable. Good.
I didn’t speak until he made eye contact again.
“You kidnapped me… to teach a class. That’s your solution to this Queen problem. You’re going to run an educational campaign against her military incursion and hope the power of knowledge saves your Court.”
We stared at each other.
He didn’t blink.
I didn’t blink.
The Gray Knight cracked her neck, her face passive.
“Does Sahir know why you took me?” I demanded.
He shook his head. “Sahir is not my knight. He knew only that he should sit with you during our first meal and make sure you felt safe.”
Well then.
“He’s your spy, though,” I tried.
The Princeling waved a contemptuous hand. “I do not need Sahir to spy for me.” But his eyes flicked to the Gray Knight.
“And her?”
“My Gray Knight knew, of course,” he said.
I stepped away. “I want to go back to my room, please,” I said.
For a moment, I thought he would protest: He raised his eyebrows, as if preparing for us to duke it out by staring wordlessly at each other with progressively more incredulous expressions. But then his brow furrowed and he ducked his chin.
“I have other stratagems as well,” he said, almost defensively. “You cannot expect me to share all of my plans with a single mortal girl.”
I gnawed my lip. “Sure,” I said.
“Is there anything you want to discuss before you leave, lady?”
I didn’t know how to bring up my family and friends without getting them dragged here as well, just like my cat.
“I’m uncomfortable being here without anyone from the outsi—my world knowing where I am.
Though I’m unsure if it would be wise for me to disclose my location,” I said, cautiously.
“It might cause negative feelings in the human realm… a kidnapping might lead to stronger regulations on faeries, which neither of us wants.”
The Princeling stood up and stepped off the dais, the movements so fast I couldn’t track them. He was before me in a blink, a hand on my chin.
I tried to twist away, but he pulled my chin upward and looked into my eyes.
In the fantasy books I’d read, this was usually a very sensual moment.
Perhaps I should have wondered if he would kiss me.
But that wasn’t the vibe. His fingers pushed my cheeks toward my lips harshly, and though it hurt, I did my best to keep his gaze and not let him know that I was scared out of my mind.
“Interesting,” he said, searching my eyes.
“I-interesting?” I asked, in a squished sort of voice.
My neck started to ache. Doctor Kitten, who’d borne all of this with remarkable calm, twisted his head and bit the Princeling on the wrist.
“Demon creature!” he shouted, jumping backward.
“He’s not a demon,” I said proudly, cradling Doctor Kitten’s head. “He was just annoyed because you were in our personal space.”
“Space cannot belong to a person,” the Gray Knight stated. She’d been so quiet I’d forgotten her presence. But if I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was fighting a smile.
“Perhaps one day I will ask for your opinion on these matters,” the Princeling said.
“But for now, allow me to worry about… feelings in the human realm.” He ran the pad of a finger over his wrist, the red scratches disappearing beneath green vines of light.
“And please consider my request. Your cooperation is desired.”
He turned away from me, presumably to go back to staring at the ceiling.
Without anything more to say, I backed out of the room, my left hand over Doctor Kitten’s head, just in case.
And then I stood in the hallway and waited until the Gray Knight deigned to join me.
She came out quietly, after enough time that I was fuming.
Ignoring my glare, she led me back the way we’d come, right and then left. I tried to count the doors between mine and the turn but couldn’t keep track.
“How many people live here?”
She stopped in front of a door. I looked at it and saw that it had my name burned into the wood: Miriam Geld. It was a punch in the gut, a brutal reminder that threatened to shatter me.
“You will understand, Miriam, why I do not answer that question.” She didn’t even look at me as she spoke.
“I won’t understand, actually,” I snapped. “I haven’t understood anything you’ve done. What am I going to do with the information?”
But she’d already started down the hallway.