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“Sir,” a squeaky voice calls, shattering my illusion of peace.
My eyes fly open and I locate the pixie speaking. He flutters in the air just a few yards away, no bigger than the size of my fist. His wings move so quickly they’re a mere blur of sapphire.
The pixie clears his throat. “The prince from Terra Court is in the parlor.”
“Perfect,” I say sarcastically.
Ignoring the dirt caked under my nails, I run my hand through my hair, allowing myself one moment to wear my disdain. Then, I harden my bones, stand tall, and stomp in the direction he waits.
The beloved golden-prince of Terra Court is once again here to save the day. Protect the fae and the humans. It’s vomit-inducing.
Unlike his false, convoluted sense of reality, I’m truly working to protect the fae here. He is not taking my land.
Let him try. He could never survive my forest.
four
Leaving the Nightmares Behind
Alessia
Time passes much too quickly, stealing away our illusions of freedom. With the lord gone and the lady busy with her suitors, it’s as close to freedom as we will ever get.
At the very least, I’d expected to see Felix, but he was nowhere to be found. In this blustery weather, I can’t imagine what groundskeeping duties he could be completing, and the words from the dinner party earlier in the week ring through my head: “He’s the lord’s communication line with the fae.”
There’s no way that’s true. He would’ve told me.
But it begs the question: where is he?
I shake away the thoughts, clearing the fog, so I can tend to my duties before the lord’s return this evening.
Even in the bright light of day, the estate is still dim with its dark wood paneling, dim oil lamps, and drawn curtains. I’d like to rip the curtains open, let the natural light in, but the lord likes them closed. It’s easier on his often-hungover eyes.
Despite my hurriedness, I double check everything I clean, ensuring I don’t miss a spot as I dust and scrub alongside Char.
Most often, Lord Edvin is too drunk to lift a hand, but on occasion he’ll swipe a finger across various surfaces in search of a single speck of dust. As if it excites him to catch my error and punish me.
So, I am unwilling to take any chances.
In the evening, the lady returns as I’m scrubbing the hardwoods in the foyer. She scowls at me, then kicks over my bucket. Murky water stretches across the floor.
My eyes squeeze shut as I curse her mentally.
“Clean that up,” she says. “Then draw me a bath.”
“Yes, Lady Nilda.” I keep my eyes on the puddle of water spreading out beneath my knees.
“Snap to it.” She inclines her head, staring down her nose at me before gliding out of the room.
I toss the rag down with a sigh.
Once I’m finished in the foyer, I brace myself for the lady’s foul mood. Heading to her chambers, I draw her a bath complete with chamomile flakes and lavender soaking salts—the overwhelmingly floral scent makes me gag. I don’t know how she can stand to marinate in it.
She enters the room, sinking her nude body into the water and tipping her head back with a soft sigh.
“Stop gawking at my breasts,” she says coldly. “Have the cripple serve my meal here and get back to work.”
She waves a hand in my direction, dripping water onto the wood.
