Page 58 of Faerie Hunted

It was my turn to stop and reach for her before she lifted my foot to soap my ankles. “Elaen, please. What’s going on?”

Her eyes were filled with terror. “Just let me wash you, Miss.”

“Why did you tell me to run?”

“You will never be safe as long as you wear the necklace,” Elaen whispered. “But you’re not one of us. He won’t automatically toss you aside.”

My mind struggled to make sense of it. Elaen continued her washing and I dropped the subject, mulling it over again and again.

What was I missing?

There was a piece somewhere I’d tossed aside, not making the connection.

But Elaen, the other servers last night, the collar around my own neck?—

I stumbled backward and dirty water splashed everywhere. Elaen was pure-blood fae. I knew it, of course. And enslaved. It was clear in her mannerisms. So were the women last night.

Dorian Jade kept pure-bloods in his employ against their will and forced them to take care of him and his people.

The revelation crashed down on me ocean-wave style until it blotted out every other thought. My gaze became unfocused, my heart lurched into my sternum, and the thundering in my ears was louder than the sound of my breathing.

Dorian wasn’t interested in equality. He was interested in conquering, and he stepped on the backs of the enslaved pure-bloods to get there.

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Ipushed the heel of my hand into my chest to quell the sudden pain there.

No one saw a problem with this?

I felt foolish that I’d been thinking how Dorian and the Unseelie might be the answer.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

I forced myself to breathe normally and look down at Elaen, with her skin drawn and her eyes dull. “I’m fine,” I tried to say but no sound came out. I could only nod.

She rinsed my hair with the last of the fresh water before wrapping a towel around my shoulders. Numb, I stood trembling as she scrubbed me dry, pointedly avoiding making eye contact.

Elaen was a slave, pure and simple, because of circumstances she had no control over. It made Dorian Jade no better than King Tywin and both of them were absolutely certain they were in the right.

As though there was no middle ground where everyone, every single damn fae, had a place to live their lives.

Elaen helped me out of the basin and held out a loose pair of linen trousers, waiting for me to step into the legs one foot at a time. The material cinched at the waist and flowed loosely around my ankles. She followed the trousers with a loose wrap top that left my arms free, then with a little urging she sat me down onto the stool to braid my wet hair.

“You’re upset by what I told you,” she said softly.

The first swipe of the brush through the strands had me closing my eyes and swallowing a grimace. Not only because of the sensation but also to avoid staring at her reflection in the small mercury glass mirror and seeing the glint of the metal collar.

I had to be careful what I said. She probably wouldn’t report back to Dorian but what if he coerced her? There were ways to get people to talk even without the cognitive manipulation I possessed.

“I just think there should be a world where everyone is equal,” I replied slowly, considering every word.

Elaen’s hands stilled. “It’s a beautiful goal.”

Both of us quieted. She finished the braid with deft fingers and patted my shoulder, offering a thin-lipped smile before she ducked her head, disappearing through the tent flap.

She was right, though. I had to run. As fast and as far away as possible.

The sooner I got this over with, the better it would be for everyone involved. My gut told me Dorian Jade wasn’t going to let me go easily, but with Noren nearby, I had faith we’d be able to fight our way out of this camp. Most of the people here weren’t warriors. If worse came to worst, then I’d shift into my halfling warrior form and raze a path out.

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