The Unseelie King and I teaser
THE UNSEELIE KING AND I TEASER
AKA THAT BOOK LAKE STAYED UP READING ALL NIGHT
Augusta
Cecile flips her red hair and leans over the railing of the upper ballroom floor, positioning her body so that her breasts lift to attract a male’s gaze.
Particularly one male’s.
The commander of the Summer fae armies, the same male whose attention I’m trying to garner. Not that it matters to him. While Cecile has had some luck with the commander, the most I ever got from him was that one time he took a lock of my hair and sniffed it.
I interpreted it as a gesture indicating interest, and I followed my eldest sister June from our boring farm in the mountains down to the Summer Court, where she enchanted none other than our heart-stopping king. Me? I went on rejecting suitors, keeping myself available for the commander in case he became interested.
But as the summer nears its end and I grow more desperate, so does Cecile. In fact, most singles at the party tonight will try to hook up with someone. Tonight’s event precedes series of events right before the royal wedding, and I’m out of time to snag the commander’s affections for this mating season.
Too bad he’s the only male in the world who can resist the charms of fae females in heat. Maybe he likes males. “Oh!” I say out loud.
My middle sister, Julie, flips her brown curls over her shoulder. “Oh ho ho.” She rubs her hands together. “Did you have a vision?”
“I had a thought.”
Julie’s eyes sparkle from a few glasses of champagne. “Do tell.”
“The commander like males.”
Cecile shakes her head. “He does not.”
“How do you know?” The moment I ask, I regret it. Although I can’t see into the future, meaning I can’t see what she’ll tell me, Cecile is so mean, she might be an Unseelie fae who got swapped at birth and deposited next door at my parents’ house for all I know.
“Because,”—Cecile plays with the end of her braid—“he visits Klen’s Brothel.”
“He does?” Julie and I screech, then cover our mouths as people who were whispering in various parts of the upper floor above the massive foyer start moving toward us.
Cecile, loving the attention and knowing she has the ear of pretty much every fae within reach, leans in conspiratorially. “Monique said that Lady Grech and her sister said they saw our dear commander leaving Klen’s just this morning.”
“How did you already hear about it?”
She scoffs. “I pay to stay informed.”
Julie and I stare.
“What? I like staying in the know.”
“Where did you get the coin?” We’re poor, as in my father piled up debt on his back just to dress us for the Court this summer. Cecile is our next-door neighbor who’s no better off than my family.
She shrugs. “Here and there. But the point is, it’s not the commander. The seer serves the crown, Augusta. Maybe he was interested in you before, but now that you’re the royal seer, he can’t touch you.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” My sister clears her throat. “June slipped and told me the king forbade anyone from so much as looking at you.”
I expel a breath, and all my hopes deflate. No wonder the commander is uninterested in me. Not only am I nineteen and inexperienced and those fae at Klen’s ride him three ways from sundown, now I’m also forbidden. And while forbidden fruit sounds delicious to me, the commander would never disobey his king. He’s the most loyal, most honorable male I’ve ever met. It’s part of what makes him so appealing.
Sulking in my newly found self-pity, I prop my chin on my palm and my elbow on the railing.
“Ladies don’t sulk or slouch,” comes from behind me. I startle and spin to see El’jah, the Summer prince. He’s wearing a one-piece golden suit with black boots that reach mid-thigh and a black blazer with two tapered pieces reaching just past the back of his knees. He winks at me, and his blue eyes twinkle, setting my heart and every heart in the vicinity aflutter.
Few are immune to El’jah’s charm. “One…” He lifts a finger. “The commander isn’t into males. Trust me, I know these things.”
Dramatically, I drop my shoulders even more as if moping.
“Awww,” El’jah says as he pats my head. “You poor thing. Look up, I have number two.” He lifts the second finger. “Don’t be the dog who spends the last summer cycle of heat we have left barking up the wrong tree. A male worthy of all this”—he eyes me in that sexy way of his that makes me feel both attractive and wanted—“virginal hotness will come for you.”
“You think so?”
“You tell me.” He pokes my forehead. “You’re the seer.”
Eh. The seer. On one occasion, I shared a terrible vision of my sister June that happened to randomly arise in my brain, and now the king thinks I’m a seer. Since foresight is one of, if not the most, coveted forms of magic in the world, the king proclaimed me the royal seer.
Although I tried to tell him I’d love to have magical powers I could use to predict the future, but I simply don’t have enough magic to do what he needs of me and what is expected of the royal seer, King Et’enne’s title stands. There’s no chance he’ll change his mind.
El’jah takes Julie’s and Cecile’s hands and walks backward, dragging them away. “I’m taking you single ladies to a party. Yes?”
“Yes, sir,” they answer.
“And you, my sweet, virginal seer, must stay, I’m afraid.”
Julie blows me a kiss. “Don’t wait up for us.”
By the time they return, I’ll be sleeping. Bored and alone, I head toward the gardens at the back of the Golden Palace.
Fae of all shapes and sizes dressed in bright stand-out colors, with elaborate hairdos adorned with expensive shiny jewels, linger on the winding staircase, sipping champagne from flutes and laughing while sharing gossip of other people’s misfortunes.
At the bottom of the stairs, the commander awkwardly holds a champagne flute between his large, gloved fingers. He doesn’t drink while on duty, and knowing him, he’s always on duty.
My heart does a nervous flutter as I walk up to him and casually greet him. I bat my eyelashes at his handsome face. “Good evening, Commander.”
“Seer.”
I used to be Augusta. Now I’m seer. The way he says it, though, is special. Crisp. Cold. And with finality that cuts off further conversation. It’s too bad for him I’m not easily scared or shoved away.
“I didn’t think you drank on duty.”
“He doesn’t,” a musical voice says and joins us, plucking the flute from his hand. “Thank you.” She smiles up at him and flutters her eyelashes. As I watch Fleur, the princess, and take in her beauty, it becomes obvious to me why the commander won’t give me or any other female the time of span. It’s not only because he’s sated at Klen’s, but because beautiful fae royalty surrounds him all span long, and in comparison, my appearance is average.
With his looks and station and, I bet, magical power, he can have any female he wants. He just hasn’t had any. Not in the court, at least.
“Are you alone?” Fleur asks.
I nod.
“Where are your sisters?”
“With your brother.”
Fleur smiles knowingly. “Ah. I’m on my way to meet the Unseelie delegation if you would care to join me.”
“Um, no.”
She giggles, and the commander chuckles. “Not a fan of the Unseelie?” he asks.
Holy Fates, he’s talking to me.
I open my mouth to answer, but I’m too awestruck that he sparked an exchange of words with me that I manage only to blink up at him. The commander frowns, likely wondering what sort of stupid he’s chatting with.
“No,” I answer after an awkward silence. Both he and Fleur nod, gazes everywhere but on me. The royals of the Summer Court are polite and hospitable, so neither of these two people will point out what they must perceive to be a lack of social skills. All conversation in the court should flow naturally, not stall. That’s the expectation during parties.
We all aim to have a grand time.
Tongue-tied and feeling as if I’m intruding, I see my sister welcoming a long line of guests. Next to her stands our Summer king, arguably the handsomest male in all the fae lands. Out of all the opulence in the palace, I catch him looking at June.
“That is one love history will write about,” Fleur says quietly, privately to me.
“If I ever marry, I would want my king to look at me the way King Et’enne looks at June. But since I can’t even answer the male I like who finally spoke to me, kings are not charted in my future. Perhaps I shall remain the virginal Summer seer for the rest of my life. It sure would make King Et’enne happy.”
Fleur sips her flute.
The commander stands there in his usual silent manner.
“May I be excused?” I ask politely, not really waiting for anyone to excuse me.
The commander nods, and Fleur smiles. “Of course. I’ll see you at the dinner table. We’re sitting together.” She leaves, and the commander’s eyes stray after her retreating figure. It’s brief, but I caught it, and it solidifies my fate.
Gah, I want to be more like Fleur in the sense she has all the freedom that comes from being a female fae of beauty and power. But I can never be like Fleur.
I am not a princess, and also, a little over a cycle ago, I worked at my farm, picking apples for our pig Millie. Now I’m having dinner with Fleur in the Summer Court, which is lorded over by the male who is to marry my oldest sister. There’s so much the fate’s have already blessed me with, and I shan’t want for more.
For a little longer, I linger to give the commander a chance to ask where I’m going, or to ask if he could escort me there (in the gardens where he can kiss me in private), but the commander watches the entrance like one of his birds of prey. Always on duty.
Instead of occupying myself with “the wrong tree,” perhaps I should take lessons from the commander and get on with my duty. The seer is supposed to remain alone and chaste so that her powers may grow vast. The Summer king wants to see me develop my powers and not mingle much with males. Trouble is, I was born with only a little magic, so the suffering seems unfair.
Turning away from the entrance, I walk toward the back of the palace and duck as a flock of pixies rushes out of the back service areas. The kitchens are in chaos, so nobody notices as I walk along the wall all the way to the back. I lift my skirts so I don’t step on any porridge that missed the gutters and round the corner, then climb several steps to arrive at the back gardens, my favorite place in the palace.
The décor extends into the gardens as the party will move here after dinner, but for now, only the band is setting up the stage. Right before the gardens, I sit on the same wooden bench that King Et’enne likes to sit on. He says it’s because the bench is positioned at a perfect angle that affords him a view of the back of the palace while also allowing him to watch the street before the bridge connecting the Golden Palace to the city.
A convoy of carriages is crossing the bridge. It’s the Unseelie delegation arriving, an event everyone is eagerly waiting for.
It will mark the first time in over two centuries that Unseelie delegates have been invited to a party in the Summer Court. It’s even more significant because it’s our mating season, thus there’s a possibility of seelie and unseelie coupling.
Not that we would ever couple with them.
“Waiting for someone?” a smooth male voice asks from behind me. READ THIS NOW