Chapter 23 Alfrie #3
“After I shifted seamlessly into three different animals, that is your takeaway?” I bury my face into my hands. She sits down on the pile of grain next to me, her shoulder nearly brushing mine. I straighten. She smells of citrus and lavender. I hate citrus. And lavender.
That’s what I’m telling myself today anyway.
“I stand corrected. You’re skilled. I want to learn how to shift into a human. Can you show me?” Her eyes are bright and joyful, resembling a child begging for a sweet at the market.
“It’s advanced, and not all Fae can shift into a human form.”
Her face falls.
“But we can try,” I add, wanting nothing more than to extinguish the look of defeat on her face.
“How about a great cat? A tiger! Weren’t you telling us that you were a tiger the other night?” Her excitement warps into a sly smile.
I wince. “I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.”
I want to die. “Well, even if I did, that’s a form I can’t take.
It’s rare and only those with royal blood are able to conjure it.
There’s only been, like, two Fae who have shifted into tigers in over a hundred years.
Even Gridan’s Court of Cats wasn't home to anyone who could conjure a tiger form.” I drag a hand down my face, the weight of embarrassment from the night I was drunk crushing me.
“I meant to thank you for the other night, by the way. For tolerating my foolishness. For putting me to bed.” I glance sideways at her, and she coyly looks over at me from under her long lashes. I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“You’re welcome.” She looks down at the dirt, color flooding her cheeks. “I have to admit I was concerned about you. You were actually somewhat nice to me.” She laughs, the sound warming me like sunlight.
The corners of my mouth turn upward and my own cheeks flush at the thought of what I might have said to her in my inebriated state.
I pick at an invisible thread along the seam of my pants.
“Then I must’ve been incredibly drunk.” She giggles again and leans her shoulder into mine.
A playful nudge but I tense just the same.
What’s wrong with me? “Like I said the other night, I’m sorry for my poor attitude. ”
Her mouth opens slightly as if she wants to say more, but she stands abruptly. “So? Tiger? I’m a Royal. I can conjure it.”
“I’m sure there’s a feral beast inside of you somewhere, but a tiger is quite advanced. Besides, if you were somehow able to shift into such a form, we would already be invading the Unseelie Court.”
“What do you mean?”
I lean my head back against the grain bags. “Fae with that type of shifting power are the only ones that have any chance of fighting against them. That or a swift beheading, and good luck getting close enough.”
“Right. I vaguely remember learning that from one of my tutors.” She bites her lip.
I have to glance skyward to avoid licking my own in response. I’ve got to get out here.
“Fine. No tigers. But perhaps a bear or something?” She’s hopeful and I wish I could tell her she’ll be able to conjure whatever she wishes.
But I’m not even sure we’ll make it past the imagery stage.
“Your father’s form is a wolf, correct? What about your mother?”
“I’m not sure. Only my father and Byron know, but they never talk about it.” She twists a strand of hair through her fingers.
“I see.” I sigh. “Let’s start with the basics and then see what shape your body naturally wants to take. Do you think you can be patient and do that?”
“Do you think you can teach me without yelling at me and calling me spoiled?”
I press my lips together tightly, and say nothing.
She huffs. “All right. I’ll try to be patient.”
I nod and lift my tired body up from the grain bags. “Then we can start tomorrow.”
“Why not now? I said I would try.”
“I’m afraid you've wasted all of our time with your complaining. I’ve other duties to attend to.” I brush the dust from my trousers and offer my arm to her. “Can I escort you back inside?”
She glowers at me then walks past me without a goodbye or any acknowledgement, and stomps back into the servants’ entrance of the palace.
Brat. I grimace, dropping my arm, then turn to follow her up the path when a strange feeling settles over me. I’m rooted in place, and I scan the edge of the forest.
I can feel—them. Like a cool and calming hand on my elbow, pulling me. Urging me to wander toward the Woodlands. As if they’re out there calling out for me. Waiting for me. Which is insane being that I only just heard the rumor a village even exists. Yet…
I turn my head, angling my ears toward the tree line. Faint and distant voices whisper upon the breeze that moves in from the north and swirls around me. There’s a fire, crackling and sparking, and I can practically feel the heat from the flames I sense in the distance.
Something’s out there. A village. My heart leaps and I open my eyes, smiling to myself as I make a move toward the sound through the dense brush of the forest.
I take a step toward the tree line.
“Alfrie?” Someone calls from behind me. It’s Leer. I gaze longingly toward the Woodlands. It’ll have to wait. I turn on my heel and head back to the castle.