Page 17 of Fae Games

I gulped down another mouthful of warm tea. “That’s too risky. What if the person wants my firstborn?”

Her brows drew together. “Are you that certain you’ll mate with Prince Rory?”

I snatched my gaze away. There was a fairytale about a gnarled creature who helped a girl spin straw to gold, and he wanted her firstborn. Total bullshit because on the Isle of Fae, there was no such thing as a human king, and baby-eating faeries didn’t make bargains, they imprisoned humans and forced them to breed food. Thank goodness they were locked away in Dubnos. A shiver ran down my spine. But they were with poor Helen.

“Unity, have I lost you?”

Flora’s sharp voice lifted the fog from my mind. “Right. It all depends on if I can stay alive.”

“Don’t tell them that in the fabric district.” She stacked our plates, gathered the nearly full mugs atop them, and stood.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s time to visit the Mound.” She headed toward the kitchenette. “We’re going shopping.”

Chapter 5

My mouth fell open, and I stared at Flora’s back. Excited tremors shook my insides, making me feel like something was about to erupt.

Deep breaths heaved in and out of my lungs in an attempt to make sense of my predicament. I was in the middle of a death tournament to become the mate of one of four princes, two of whom hated my guts and conspired with their fated mates to have me thrown into the Dark Fae Prison. On top of that, I’d survived at least three assassination attempts, and been seduced by a sleaze bag paid by the Fated.

I’d also lost my sister to dark faeries and had a dear friend banished into the fae equivalent of hell.

By anyone’s calculations, I was in the deepest shit of my life.

So, why did this feel like the start of a makeover scene from over a dozen teen movies?

Flora grinned. “When we’ve bought the fabric, I’ll take you to the beauty district to get your hair styled.”

“Yes.” The word came out as a squeak because all the excitement of getting prettified was crushing my lungs.

I gave myself a mental slap. We still hadn’t resolved the matter of payment for all these goods and services. Unspecified favors sounded like a whole heap of trouble. I’d just have to avoid those who asked too much, just as I did in the markets of Doolish.

Flora dumped the dishes in the sink, rushed back to my side, and gave the space between my wings a hearty slap. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

We galloped down the stairs, leaving behind my guilt and trepidation. I could wallow in morbid thoughts and fret about people I wasn’t yet in a position to help, or I could focus on winning this trial or at least not coming last.

Our footsteps echoed against the remedial building’s stone walls, and across the entrance hall, but the sound was muffled by the pounding of my pulse. Flora had gotten me riled up, and I was ready to fight.

She flung the door open and froze.

It took a lot of skidding not to bump into her back. “What’s wrong?”

Flora stepped aside to reveal Lady Aster standing with her hands on her hips, flanked by Ladies Salix and Gazania. A crowd of full-blooded faeries stood behind them, girls, mostly, but I caught sight of some younger boys who had probably snuck along to watch me get pummeled.

Mistress Ellyllon stood at the far end of the courtyard between what appeared to be two other teachers, as they wore similar robes.

I raised my chin. “What do you want?”

“A truce,” said Lady Aster.

Flora and I exchanged shocked glances. I turned back to the trio. “Is this some kind of trick?”

Lady Aster flipped a lock of crimson hair over her shoulder. “Hardly. Unlike half-bloods, we at the higher echelons of the court don’t lie.”

I leaned my hand on the doorframe, ready to bolt. “Can’t lie or choose not to lie?”