Page 42 of Fae Games

“Lady Gala of Nevermore?” asked the host. “What makes you the ideal candidate to rule the Autumn Court alongside Prince Rory?”

She stared at the host, who shifted uncomfortably, and dark clouds appeared on the fabric of his sky-blue suit. A tense silence stretched throughout the dining room, and I tensed.

A pang of sympathy wormed its way into my heart. They should have canceled the beauty contest and waited for Lady Gala to overcome the horror of watching her mother suffer an excruciating death. This was so inhumane.

But they hadn’t spared any consideration for Helen, who was probably being ripped apart by monsters in Dubnos. I shook off those thoughts and tamped down my emotions.

“I’m not a good candidate for the Autumn Court,” said Lady Gala.

Gasps and hisses of indrawn breath filled the dining hall. I glanced at the row of dignitaries behind the stage to find the Duke of Nevermore standing with his fists balled.

The clouds over the host’s chest swelled, looking like they would rain. “Lady Gala,” he said with a voice soft with compassion. “Would you like to elaborate?”

She pulled back her shoulders. “There’s an evil spreading through our realm. One that seeks to destroy us all. My beloved mother was its victim and died in the most heinous manner.”

Lady Gala paused and swept her gaze around the room, seeming to make eye contact with each person sitting at the tables. The Duke of Nevermore lowered himself to his seat and stared into his lap.

“It’s insidious,” she said. “This evil goes beyond a desperate halfling resorting to dark magic to infiltrate our beloved royal family.”

I clenched my teeth. Even while making everyone feel sympathy for her, the wretched cow had to throw shade in my direction.

“Don’t listen to her,” whispered Flora.

“It’s hard not to,” I snarled.

Lady Gala pulled back her shoulders and raised her chin in a defiant stance. “As the victim of such misfortune, I find myself best placed to stamp it out of our realm, and as such, I withdraw from my pursuit of the Autumn Court and declare my candidacy to join all four courts and become the queen!”

My jaw dropped, and I reeled forward, barely catching myself before I fell to the marble floor at the force of her audacity.

“What in Dubnos?” said Flora, her voice nearly drowned out by the whispers spreading around the dining table.

Shaking my head, I glanced from the princes’ table to the throne, where Queen Titania bared her teeth in a snarl. Had Lady Gala turned mad from grief? If there was any evil spreading throughout the realm, she had accelerated it by opening that bloody portal to Dubnos.

“Quiet, please!” The host raised his hand, bringing everyone’s attention back. “Thank you, Lady Gala of Nevermore.”

She descended the stage with her nose in the air, looking like she could out-regal the queen. On the other side of the room, Ladies Salix and Gazania stood from their seats and stared wide-mouthed at their former friend.

The host cleared his throat. “Our fourth contestant is Lady Aster of Westerling!”

I glanced around for Prince August’s supposed fated mate, but couldn’t find any sight of the curvaceous crimson-haired faerie.

“Lady Aster?” The host placed his hand over his brow and looked from left to right. “Are you with us?”

The door swung open, and someone stumbled in. It was Lady Aster slumped forward, held upright up by four panicked pixies.

“Oh,” she said with a loud gasp.

“What’s wrong with her?” Flora muttered.

I shook my head. It was hard to tell with the Fated, as Lady Aster’s weakened condition might be a stunt to garner more sympathy after Lady Gala’s speech about her mother.

With a lot of heaving and pulling, the pixies hauled the faerie onstage. She bent over double, panting hard and looking like she’d either run the entire circumference of the Isle of Fae or was suffering the debilitating effects of a poison.

“Lady Aster,” said the host, his voice losing its certainty. “Are you well?”

She grabbed his arm and pulled herself upright, revealing her gown… Or lack of it. I tilted my head to the side, wondering if this was the same kind of gossamer as my dress. The fabric stretched around her every curve to the point of complete transparency, and she was wearing no underwear.

Loud, scandalized gasps filled the room.