6. Everly
Everly
Chapter six
The wooden beams running along the high ceilings create an arch, giving the darker rough stone walls of the corridors a tall and regal atmosphere, while the plush carpets run down the middle of the smooth lighter stone floors, making it seem comforting and cozy.
My fingers itch to run along the emerald heavy velvet curtains that frame the gigantic arched windows, spaced evenly along the corridors. The young woman leads me through the castle and up several flights of stairs before coming to a stop in front of a large set of wooden doors.
I press my teeth into my lip to prevent myself from expressing my appreciation or inquiring her name. Nix’s words repeat over and over in my head. Is it all fae who have these set rules, or just the fairies?
When I stop beside her, she pushes open the doors and waves me inside. “There is hot water in the bathroom and a change of clothes for you on the bed. I will be back with some food.”
I step inside, and she shuts the door with a resounding click, leaving me standing in the entrance of a room that’s bigger than my entire apartment.
Everywhere I look, there are hints of the medieval era, but the glow of electricity is unmistakable. Slowly, I make my way through the large room toward what I assume is the bathroom. A gasp escapes my lips as I step through the doorway, slowly rotating in place to take it in. The bath is sunken into the ground and could easily fit two or three people in it, and in the corner stands a shower with a huge waterfall-type shower head, and no curtain or doors blocking it from view.
As dirty and smelly as I am, I really don’t want to shower. The idea of getting undressed and being naked here seems to make me feel unsafe and vulnerable. Glancing down at my dirt-stained clothes, I let out a deep sigh. Maybe I can wash up and quickly change into some clean clothes. The woman did say some are laid out on the bed. I walk back to the bedroom and make my way over to the bed.
I giggle as I feel the luxurious, soft fabric beneath my fingers. They have to be joking, right?
The dress is gorgeous, and judging by the size, won’t fit my curvy body at all. My breasts are more than a handful, and my hips are wide. I am a true hourglass figure, and this dress is made for someone who is tall and slim.
I glance around but don’t see any other clothes. I lost my pack in the forest, so I don’t have a change of clothes with me from home.
Shrugging, I make my way back to the bathroom, deciding to wash my face and armpits at least. The basin is lined with several sparkling glass bottles. I carefully unscrew the bottle of pink liquid and take a deep whiff of its contents. The sweet, fruity scent drifts through the air, and I hum in delight, the fragrance instantly melting the tension from my muscles and making me feel at ease.
I glance up in the mirror, my eyes widening in shock, and my body freezes. My long, thick, blonde hair is a mess. I wince at the thought of trying to untangle these knots with no conditioner to help me. Instead, I reach up and artfully twist and knot my mess of hair into a loose bun, creating what one might think to be an intentionally disheveled look. It still looks like a bird’s nest up there, but it’s as good as it’s going to get for now. I turn the tap on, and the sound of running water fills the room. I cup some cool liquid in my hands and splash my face. Oh my god, that was nice.
Removing my shirt and tank, I grab a washcloth and lather up some soap, standing in just my bra and jeans. I make quick work of scrubbing my face, neck, arms, and chest, getting the majority of the dirt and sweat off me.
“There,” I whisper to myself as I dry off.
I look down at my clothes, which are stained and exude an unpleasant smell. The last thing I want to do is put them back on, but I don’t really have a choice. With a deep, forceful sigh, I pull my tank back on, then make my way back into the room and collapse on the bed. I am so exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open, yet my mind is wide awake.
A soft knock at the door has me jolting off the bed, looking for a weapon. I hear the handle turning, and my eyes dart toward the door as it swings open, my heart in my throat.
The woman from earlier backs into the room, pulling a cart with her. The sweet smell of food hits me, and my mouth instantly waters.
“Miss?”
I must have zoned out, completely focused on the food, because I didn’t hear her speaking.
“Sorry?”
She’s frowning, her face full of displeasure. “Were the clothes not suitable?”
“Oh.” I laugh and wave her off. “The dress is beautiful, but it will not fit me.” I gesture to my body.
The woman’s tail whips back and forth as she stares at me. “I will find you something more fitting, then.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. I should go soon anyway. My friends are probably frantic.”
She tilts her head as if trying to figure me out. Maybe she hasn’t seen a human before. As I take a closer look at her in proper lighting, I realize that the shape and curve of her eyes, even down to the slit vertical pupil, are the same as a cat, which complements her ears and tail. It takes a moment to register that we’re staring at each other, and a flush creeps up my neck.
“Do you know who those men in the forest were?” I blurt.
“Why do you ask?”
“I want to know why I understood them? They weren’t speaking English, but I could still understand them.”
“From what I overheard the soldiers saying, they were part of a group that call themselves Outcasts. They lurk in the forest, using their native tongue to confuse and prey on unsuspecting travelers.”
I sigh, my thoughts jumbled as I try to make sense of it. That still doesn’t explain why I could understand them, or why I could sense their intentions.
If Maxon didn’t come along when he did . . . I shiver, recalling their wickedness. It seeped from their pores. The images of Maxon killing them flash in my mind, making my stomach twist.
“He killed them,” I whisper.
“They would have left you for dead.”
I jerk my head up in surprise, taken aback by her stern voice. It makes me uneasy that someone could kill so quickly and simply, without hesitation. It seems heartless. Though, the Fae described in stories are said to be cold and calculating. I try to think back to any stories I heard growing up.
From what I can recall from reading books as a child, there are two main courts among the Fae. Seelie, the Court of Light, is said to be bathed in a brilliant, golden light. While Unseelie, the Court of Dark, is cloaked in a deep, mysterious shadow.
The sub-courts are sectioned off and named after the seasons that linger in their territory; Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring. I’m not sure how it all works, but I don’t think I’m in the gloomy doomy Unseelie court. Instead, I feel a sense of lightness and warmth.
I watch as she turns away, a sense of urgency propelling me forward, and immediately I move toward her.
“Wait. What should I call you?”
The woman slowly looks over her shoulder and cocks her head to the side as she studies me again. I try not to fidget under her scrutiny, she’s freaking me out a little. Especially her tail, it’s swaying back and forth methodically.
“Zaria,” she finally answers.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Everly,” I say, stepping forward and holding out my hand. Zaria looks down at my hand and then back up at me in question. I drop my hand, feeling stupid. I am so out of my league here.
“I will return with some clothes.” With that, she’s gone again.
With a deep sigh, I shift my gaze toward the array of food laid out on the cart, taking in the vibrant colors and tempting aromas. Everything on the cart looks so delectable that my stomach lets out a loud growl, as if urging me to dig in.
“Okay. Okay,” I mutter, reaching out and picking up a fluffy pastry.
I take a small bite and the flavors burst in my mouth. Oh my god, this is amazing. I take another bite and another. I devour two more pastries before grabbing a handful of berries and taking a seat on one of the couches. I just finish my berries when there’s another knock at the door and Zaria walks in. Her brown eyes sweep around the room and land on me.
“Here are some clothes. It was all I could find on short notice. I’m sure you can make them work until I can acquire something more fitting.”
She places the pile of clothes on the bed and stands there, watching me. Thank you stalls on my tongue, and I hesitate.
“I appreciate the clothes and food,” I say, standing up.
Zaria slightly bows her head and turns for the door.
“Wait.”
“Is there something else?” she asks.
“Where am I?”
Zaria’s eyes widen in alarm. “You don’t know where you are?”
“Well no . . . I don’t know how I got here, and I’m sure my friends are worried. You see, I was hiking with them and then I met this fairy. And she was supposed to be helping me, but she disappeared, and then I was hunted and chased through the forest by–”
Zaria steps toward me, raising her hand to stop my rambling.
“You’re from the human realm?” she inquires, confusion creasing her features.
I nod and squint my eyes when I notice her hair moving. Shaking my head, I refocus. I must be losing my mind. “Do you know how I can get back?”
Zaria chews her bottom lip. “The gates have been closed. You shouldn’t have been able to come through.”
My spirits drop, and my heart falls to my stomach. “What? What do you mean?”
“Look, I will let the prince explain everything to you in more detail. Just, for now, get cleaned up and rested. I’m sure you’re tired.”
Prince?
“Wait. One more question. Why are your eyes different from the men?”
Zaria’s eyebrow arches, and I hear the sound of my knuckles cracking as I twist my fingers together in unease.
“You mean the fae men you’ve met?”
“I don’t know, but the ones in the woods and Maxon all had different shades of purple eyes.”
“High fae possess purple eyes. The depth of color reflects their power. The darker the purple, the more power.”
“What about Maxon? He has a silver ring around his?”
Zaria’s eyes flare wide in surprise. “The silver ring means royalty.”
My heart skips a beat and I jerk forward a step. “Royalty?”
“Yes, and you should not call him Maxon,” she replies sternly.
I’m getting on her nerves, I can tell, but I have to ask. “And you?”
She lets out a deep sigh and slowly raises her shoulders in a shrug. “My eyes are brown because I am a shifter.”
“A what?” My mind goes to all the romance books Scarlett had me read, and I can’t imagine that any of them are real. “A shifter?”
“Yes, now, was that all? You should really get some rest.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what type of shifter, but I bite down on my lip. My shoulders slump in defeat, and I slowly nod in resignation. I watch as she quickly and quietly slips from the room. I grab the pile of clothes from the bed and sigh in relief at the brown pants and white shirt.
I shimmy out of my dirty clothing, leaving only my bra and panties on. The pants are way too big, so I cinch them with the drawstring at my waist and roll up the hems. The shirt is an old fashioned tunic with long sleeves, the fabric soft and comforting against my skin. It falls to my mid-thigh, so I twist it in a knot, tying it at the front.
Slowly, I walk back to the couch, feeling the warmth of the cushions beneath me as I snuggle in and close my eyes. With a full stomach and the comforting pleasure of clean clothes, my mood is significantly improved. As I begin to slip into slumber, a tranquil sensation washes over me, causing my body to unwind and a gentle heat to flow through my limbs. I utter a soft, satisfied hum. Despite finding myself in an unfamiliar realm, devoid of any familiar faces, there is an inexplicable sense of recognition. As if the very atmosphere embraces me, enfolding me in the delicate fragrance of nature.