Page 50 of Fae Trials

My shoulders slumped.

“Wrong,” said Prince Rory.

“What?” Lady Gala screeched.

Prince Rory’s wings flared out, their ends glowing. Lady Gala scowled as her wings also retracted and glowed. I didn’t need to glance to one side to see the reaction of my own wings. They illuminated the entire fire pit.

Prince Rory nodded in my direction. “Despite her wantonness, Unity is still one of the Fated and is therefore eligible for the trial.”

“I will not accept a mate who has had dalliances with other males.” Prince August shook his blond head.

“Neither will I,” said Prince Bradwell.

“Nor I,” Prince Caulden snarled.

A gong sounded from outside, and everyone’s attention turned to the floor-to-ceiling window. Someone flew toward us, their hair backlit by the crescent moon. I swallowed hard, hoping it was one of those dark faeries come to drag me into their lair. Right now, anything was better than facing this bunch of bastards.

The figure stepped through the window into the dining hall, and all the students stood. I remained on my ass, not wanting to offend such an important figure with my nudity.

It was Mistress Ellyllon, her dark-as-midnight features harder than granite. “The ward informed me that a large group of students has congregated in the dining hall.” She swept her arm at me, and the black cloak Lady Aster levitated appeared around my shoulders. “Who will explain this charade?”

I shifted on my ass, making sure the fabric covered my essentials before pulling myself to my feet.

“Headmistress,” I said, not giving a shit who got fired or expelled. “I was in bed last night when Elijah Meadowhawks and the Fated tricked me into an intimate encounter.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What is that glistening on your face, child?”

The words died on my throat.

“It’s the janitor’s semen, headmistress,” said Lady Aster.

Lady Gala smirked.

The older faerie’s lips tightened. “How did this happen?”

I glanced at Prince Rory and raked my mind for a way to phrase things so it didn’t look like I had tried to escape the trial. “I thought I was dreaming about my false human memories, but they told me it was a glamor.”

“Headmistress,” said Prince August. “I insist that you disqualify this disgusting creature—”

“No,” she snapped. “All candidates have failed the first challenge in the trial. Unity Quayle for letting a dream become too heated before she realized it was a glamor, and the four other candidates for concocting such an unseemly plot.”

Prince Caulden’s nostrils flared. “But Mistress—”

“Everybody return to your rooms!” she swept her arms wide, making tiny lights flare from the blossoms on the walls.

Groans and the scraping of chairs filled the room, and I wrapped my arms around my chest. Prince August and his two late-coming brothers continued arguing with the headmistress, while Prince Rory stared at me as though he wanted to burn me from the inside-out.

Ignoring the Autumn Prince, I turned to Elijah. “What you said about Sicily…”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “The Fated told me what to say.”

“Why would you go along with something so terrible?”

A rueful smile curled one corner of his mouth. “It’s alright for half-bloods like you with fathers rich and noble enough to qualify you to study here. Mine is a footman from the Faith district who can barely take care of his full-blooded children, let alone the bastard he had with a human girl.”

My mouth dropped open. Elijah had always acted like he was doing well in life. “I…” My throat dried. “I didn’t know.”

“Why would you?” He shrugged. “It’s not like we know each other, is it?”