Chapter 13
Alette
The fae do love their balls, I’m starting to figure out. It’s just so strange. I feel like every day back home all I did was survive, but here it seems that all they do is relax and have fun.
Every time I look around, I ask myself: Who raises their livestock? Who cooks and cleans? Who makes their gowns and suits? And the answer always comes easily: humans.
I’m a human. And yet, I’m the fae’s toy. Their prize. That somehow makes me worthy of a life of leisure… at least until I’m risking my life in the labyrinth.
It’s all strange and confusing.
I sit near the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows that dance along the polished stone walls of the great hall, wishing yet again that I could just go back to my room. No, go back to my home. But the kings have been clear. My place is at their side.
Throughout the night, the kings have continued to practice their magic, discovering the limits to how far away they can get from me. What did the goddess… do to make me into something important to the fae? And can it be undone?
Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself and fail, so I lean in closer to the fire, but the warmth of the flames does little to ease the chill that settles into my bones.
Ever since the kings discovered the return of their powers, the sense of celebration has only intensified, but I don’t feel a part of it.
Back home, I knew my place. Here? I’m lost.
Even if I didn’t really like my place back home.
The deal with Mr. Clay springs to my mind, and a thought circles about what that meant for me.
What would happen to me when those seven days passed?
When he returned with those animals to trade?
A shiver rolls down my spine. I really just want to find some dark corner to crawl into, because there really isn’t a safe place for me any longer, is there?
Across the room, some of the kings look like they’re having fun, their laughter ringing around the hall.
Beautiful fae women surround the kings, each woman vying for their attention, their poses exaggerated, as if they’ve practiced the art of seduction.
It’s like being in town on market day and watching people fight over sweet breads from the bakery.
The whole thing is a spectacle, fascinating in the strangest sense.
Many of the women are sticking out their chests, practically shoving their breasts in the kings’ faces while fluttering their eyelashes like they have something stuck in their eyes.
It feels ridiculous, almost comedic, yet is that what flirting looks like?
If I were to try that, could I even do it?
Or would I make a fool of myself? The mere thought sends doubt sliding under my skin, and I glance down at my own figure, the gown feeling heavy around me.
I'm nothing like those fae women. I've got nothing these kings could want when they have so much beauty to choose from.
King Ashton’s laughter carries through the room, bright and carefree, slicing through my tangled thoughts.
I can’t help but glance his way, my curiosity piqued.
He’s clearly enjoying the attention from the women surrounding him, enveloped in their laughter as though it’s some kind of game.
But there’s something else in his eyes, something deeper, something insincere that I’m surprised the women can’t see.
I frown, my heart twisting at the realization that he’s not enjoying their attention half as much as he pretends to. I wonder if any of them genuinely care for him, or if they’re all just playing their parts in this grand masquerade. Are they playing a part just as much as I am here?
King Oberon stands a little away, surrounded by fire fae, his posture rigid and imposing, a stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere swirling around the hall.
His jaw is tight, and I can sense his agitation from across the room.
Despite his obvious irritation, the women are drawn to him, as if his coldness challenges their courage.
I watch him closely and catch the frustration tightening his movements, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
Then my gaze shifts to King Sylvian. There’s an expression on his face that’s difficult to decipher.
Maybe it hints at the misery he’s feeling underneath at all the attention.
I catch his gaze flitting around the room, and occasionally he glances over at me, almost as if he’s checking to see if I’m still there.
There’s something… kind about him, a quiet strength that resonates within me, making me almost see him as a person rather than a fae.
But can fae really be people the way humans can be people? Ellie said they were different with me, but why did they seem happier? Was it just because they’d finally found their chosen one?
Then there’s King Cassius, who’s standing in a shadowy corner.
The most mysterious of the four. Women flock to him, eager to speak with him, but he remains calm and composed, a distant observer to the chaos around him.
He doesn’t say much, but when he does, the women seem to listen.
He seems lost in his own world, focused on something beyond the crowd, something that has nothing to do with the women vying for his attention.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, a woman breaks off from the fire fae and heads straight for me.
She’s tall and slender, with flowing dark hair that glints like obsidian.
There’s a confidence in her stride, a predatory grace that makes me instinctively tense, as if I’m preparing for my grandfather's lashes, though I don’t know why.
She takes a seat beside me without asking, her movements fluid and deliberate. Her voice, when she speaks, is smooth and commanding, like a practiced art.
“I’m Lady Migina Nara,” she introduces herself, her eyes narrowing as they assess me, scrutinizing every detail. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
I force a polite smile, nodding in return. “Alette.”
She leans slightly closer, her voice lowering, almost conspiratorial. “So, what is it like to be chosen? To be the center of all this attention?”
Her tone dances on the edge of mockery, but I refuse to let it show. “It’s not like I had a choice,” I reply curtly, hoping to dismiss her line of questioning and make her leave me alone.
Lady Migina laughs lightly, a sound that’s sharp and unnerving, like glass breaking.
“Of course you’d answer like that.” She studies me intently.
“You’re not a fool like the other women, are you?
They all fall for the kings the moment they meet them.
All it takes is a glance, a few kind words, and they’re helpless.
They really kid themselves into thinking spreading their legs will lead to a crown. ”
I stare, my mouth agape. “What?”
Her eyes glint with amusement as she continues, unfazed. “Surely you know how men can be…”
I’m honest. “I’ve never had much time for men.”
Her brows fly into her hairline, disbelief washing over her features. “I’m talking about sex, Alette. The one thing men want, and the one thing women give up far too easily when faced with a handsome man.”
My cheeks burn, and I look down, mortified. “Oh.”
She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You, traveling alone with those four… one is bound to get lonely enough to fuck a short, plain human.”
Horror sends my mind racing at the implications of her words. “You can’t be serious.”
“But if you ever start imagining that one of those incredible fae kings is going to actually care about you, just don’t.
Don’t kid yourself into a fantasy, Alette.
This isn’t some fairytale. You won’t get your happily-ever-after with one of them.
Some ugly human will never be anything but a temporary bed-warmer to a fae king. ”
I don’t know what to say. Of all the things I thought this woman would say to me, I definitely didn’t expect this. I mean, sleeping with any of these men is the furthest thing from my mind. I’m focused on survival, on finding a way back home. Not on… any of that.
“I never asked for a fairytale… never wanted one, with anyone,” I reply, my voice softer than I intended, almost a whisper. “And I certainly don’t want one with any of them.”
She arches an eyebrow, as if my defiance entertains her. “Really? Not even King Ashton, with his charm and wit? Or King Oberon, with his… intensity? I’m sure they both find ways to keep a woman’s heart racing.”
My words are quiet. Measured. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Her smile is cold, calculating, and it makes my skin crawl. “Perhaps not, but I do know this: King Oberon will end up as my betrothed. His loyalty lies with the House of Fire. You’re just a stepping stone to something greater for him. Don’t get the wrong idea about your place here.”
I shrug, unwilling to let her words affect me. “I don't have a place here beyond this quest.”
My place is clear. I’m the chosen human, a tool to get what they need. Helping them will help me get back to town. Nothing else matters.
Lady Migina’s smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes harden. “Just know, human, they will take what they want from you, and when they’re done, they’ll move on.”
I say nothing, shrinking into myself, wishing I could disappear from this grand spectacle. Everything about it feels wrong, like I’m caught in a web of manipulation and deceit. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched, judged, analyzed by every fae in the room.
Finally, she stands up, her silk gown flowing around her as she steps away, blending back into the crowd like a shadow, and I’m left sitting there, my heart pounding, replaying her words over and over in my mind.
My experience with men is absolutely zero. The idea of any of them wanting me in that way hadn’t even crossed my mind until now. I try to tell myself I don’t care what ulterior motives they might have, that none of it matters, but deep down, part of me does care.
I don’t want to be anyone’s pawn. Heck, I don’t even want to be part of their game.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of King Ashton, his laughter carrying through the room, a sound that feels like sunlight breaking through dark clouds. His smile is wide, mischievous, and for a moment, I forget the tension, the fear that wraps around me like a shroud.
But when he turns and his eyes meet mine, everything changes.
It feels like the world stops spinning, like time itself takes a breath. His smile softens, and something in my chest twists painfully, an unwelcome flutter of confusion and longing. I can’t explain it. It’s pure trouble.
But I can’t stop my heart from flipping in my chest at the way his smile actually reaches his eyes when he looks at me. Does that mean something? It feels like it does, but I can’t allow myself to think that way.
Is this what Lady Migina was warning me about?
I turn away, trying to ignore the fluttering in my chest. He’s trouble. They all are. It’s strange. I’ve never considered myself a smart woman, but I pray I’m smart enough to not forget for a second that these kings are nothing but my enemies.