Chapter 9 #2
Lore scowled for the first time since I’d met her. “You’re no help at all.” But she cheerily turned back to me. “I just thought of the perfect thing. One moment!”
Prancing back to the wardrobe, she rummaged around while I stood taller under Gwen’s stern gaze. We both refused to speak, and awkward silence reigned.
“Here we go,” Lore sang as she popped back out with some strappy sandals that looked vaguely gladiatorial. The open toes would allow my slightly larger feet to fit.
“It’s winter,” I argued, holding my hands up in a “no thanks” gesture.
“Not down here.” She brushed away my concerns with a smile, shoving the shoes into my arms. “Most of the tunnels are heated. The main ones, at least.”
I sighed. Dad always said I’d make friends easier if I weren’t so stubborn.
And the winter boots combined with the dress did feel a bit clumsy.
If I had to run for any reason, I’d probably trip.
Giving in, I took the sandals and moved to sit on the edge of the bed as I tried to figure out the straps.
“Just go around and around,” Lore said with an unhelpful circling motion of her hands.
Eventually, I figured them out and took another look in the mirror.
I hated to admit it, but it was better.
Almost like I belonged here.
That thought made me hate it. What would my family think of me wearing this, if I ever finally found them?
Lore grabbed a dark charcoal pencil and started outlining my eyes without asking. I tensed under her touch, but the distraction did help stop the tears.
Her softly pointed fox ears nearly tickled my face as she looked down to wet the pencil. When she returned, her deep brown eyes with hooded lids were inches from mine. She’d outlined them to make them seem larger, just like Rissa always did, giving her a doe-eyed look. They looked so . . . human.
“There.” She grinned, turning me to face the mirror. My own eyes appeared larger too now, but it wasn’t over the top. “Wow, you look amazing. I’m really good at this,” Lore said, congratulating herself without shame.
Gwen appeared behind me in the mirror, eyeing whatever Lore had dusted my cheeks with to add a bit of color. After studying me carefully, she gave an approving nod. “Once Soren puts a glamour on her, no one will know she isn’t fae.”
That must’ve meant that at least some fae were fairly normal looking—without wings, or tattoos, or fox ears, or blue skin. Unless this “glamour” she’d mentioned would give me all those things.
“Speaking of,” I chimed in, crossing my arms. “Why are we hiding that I’m human?”
“Maybe the better question is: Why would you want everyone in court to know you’re not fae?” Gwen raised a brow at me, letting me think it through for myself.
I imagined the fae who’d kidnapped my family and pictured their eyes lighting up at the sight of me . . .
Fair point.
I looked away instead of answering, smoothing the soft green fabric of my skirt and touching the gold chains that decorated the cutout above my breasts.
I found myself weirdly thankful they were hiding me amongst their own. It seemed Soren was doing me a favor after all. But I still didn’t believe it was for my benefit. He must’ve had an ulterior motive for wanting me to fit in.
If only I knew why.
I had no idea what my role entailed.
The whole time I’d gone over the details of our deal, thinking I’d been smart, Soren had been stroking my ego so I wouldn’t notice how much I’d missed.
With another sigh, I followed the two fae girls back downstairs. Was the whole toad-turning thing actually real or just a threat?
The otherworldly fae lights lit our way to the kitchen, where Soren and I had been earlier.
Once again, the open shelving full of dishes and plants struck me as oddly normal.
More potted plants I hadn’t noticed the first time filled the room with fresh air and an outdoorsy feel, though how they all grew underground, I couldn’t begin to guess.
A blast of culture shock slammed into me at the sight of a guy with ram horns on his head belting out an off-key pop song into a wooden spoon.
“Oh!” He dropped the spoon into the stone sink before grabbing and twisting a dish towel. It was so . . . domestic. I blinked at him a few times.
Nope, the horns weren’t going anywhere.
The whole scene was so incongruent that I wanted to pinch myself.
He set the dish towel down to pick up a covered plate, bringing it toward us. “If Soren hadn’t mentioned you were human, I’d never have guessed,” he said, making Lore grin wider.
As Lore took the plate, Gwen grunted and gestured toward him. “Meet Peregrin.”
“Call me Perry.” With an awkward bow, he touched a bashful hand to one of his horns.
“I wanted to ask what you’d like. But Soren said you’d probably prefer to be left alone, so .
. .” He reached over to the plate he’d given to Lore and whipped the cover off with a flourish.
“I went with breakfast for dinner. Nobody hates breakfast! We have omelets, sausages, eggs. I make a snappy waffle—and I do mean it’ll snap.
That’s a special secret ingredient.” He winked as if I understood the joke.
The following pause was clearly meant for me to fill.
When I didn’t speak, his cheeks turned ruddy. “Maybe you’d prefer pancakes?”
I couldn’t wrap my mind around the normalcy.
They all stared at me.
“Are you not a breakfast person?” he asked with the same level of shock I’d had when discovering fae were real, which made Gwen snort and Lore giggle.
“Anything is fine,” I managed finally. It wouldn’t do to get on the cook’s bad side. I wasn’t about to whine about the food the way my sisters always did.
Thinking of them brought my sour mood back though.
Gwen turned on one heel, headed toward the connected dining room.
“Come on.” Lore waved for me to follow.
We entered the room with the dark wood table where Soren and I had sat earlier. I pulled out the closest chair and dropped into it with a sigh, putting my head in my hands.
“Seriously?” a male voice said from the far end of the table. I jerked my head up. “Is this how far I’ve fallen, to not get even a single take, much less a double?”
Gwen snickered.
I stared down the table at the fae, who could’ve passed for a movie star.
His cheekbones were chiseled sharp enough to cut something, he had tousled blond hair ending at his dark blue collar, and though his thick eyebrows dropped low in a frown and his perfect full lips were twisted in disappointment, he was still gorgeous.
And if I understood correctly, his disapproval came from me not noticing him.
“That’s Julian,” Gwen commented offhandedly, picking up a stack of plates to set the table. Her tattooed hands brought me back to reality abruptly. “His opinion of himself is far too high. Feel free to bring it down further.”
She sounded pleased that he was put out.
They’re fae, Brynn, remember? Of course they liked to cause pain.
No more letting my guard down.
I ignored Julian. When they tried to draw me into conversation, I only gave short answers.
“Are you warm enough?” Lore asked, eyeing my dress. “We could add a shoulder wrap—”
“I’m fine.”
“Did Soren mention what he wanted you to do at the revel?” Gwen asked next.
“No.” I didn’t miss the glances she shared with the others. Did they not know either?
Interesting.
I should’ve been worried about what he might make me do, but all I could picture was my family shuffling away down the tunnels, getting farther away every second.
“Dinner’s ready,” Peregrin, the guy with the ram horns, sang out, carrying trays in both arms. The smell of syrup and waffles hit me first, and my stomach betrayed me again with another growl. “Eat up!”
He set down eggs, sausage, and the waffles, which Julian immediately grabbed to use as a sandwich for the sausage.
I wanted to stage a protest and refuse to eat.
But my hands didn’t listen to my head, scooping up a little of everything.
I ate an entire plateful, then took a second helping of the waffles, which were legitimately amazing.
Since Mom didn’t love cooking, it didn’t take much to make food seem magical, even if, as far as I could tell, it actually wasn’t.
That made my thoughts spiral back to my family again. Had anyone fed them? What if they were starving while I indulged in all this food? Especially Mom, who’d been here over a week now. Guilt at forgetting them for even a minute flooded me.
“Why the mopey sad-girl expression?” Julian had gone to the kitchen for a pitcher of what smelled like cider, stopping beside me on his way back.
He kept his voice low, beneath the others’ chatter.
He didn’t even look at me as he asked, focusing instead on pouring two cups, pushing one in my direction.
I swallowed, staring at the cup. “What do you mean?”
“You know.” He glanced at me long enough to wiggle his eyebrows. “You have this whole I-just-remembered-the-world-is-ending-and-we’re-all-going-to-die look.”
I snorted, then shrank inward as the others paused to glance over. When I didn’t move, they slowly returned to conversation.
Julian quietly poured a second cup. When he set the pitcher down and picked up his drink, he said, “So?”
“I’m sure Soren told you,” I hissed under my breath, eyes glued to my empty plate, trying to ignore the way the food had soured in my stomach, making me queasy.
“My family is missing. Taken by your kind.” I clutched my fork.
“I don’t even know if they’re still alive, much less fed, so, yeah, my world is kind of ending right now. ”
For once, I’d found the right words to make my point.