Page 11 of Destined for the Fae King

The fanciest oil lamp I’ve ever seen sits on the side table, and I light it, letting out a soft gasp as buttery light fills the room and dances along the walls. It’s much brighter than it should be, but doesn’t hurt my eyes either, likely some advantage given by the fae glasswork. At least they thought to provide these for us since we can’t control the magically influenced fae lights. They should brighten on their own with the day, but right now they’re barely visible glowing dots around the room like the dimmest of fireflies but the size of ping-pong balls.

There are numerous things the other women may have packed, though I’d wager clothes, jewelry, and cosmetics are high on the list, despite the fae promising to supply us with those. I, however, packed something far more important.

I pull the stack of notebooks out of my suitcase and spread them out across the bed. They’re all the same brand and size but in varying colors, each packed with notes, reminders, and conjecture on the fae. Of course there are plenty of blank pages in each too, as well as an entirely blank notebook to fill with everything I learn while I’m here. Not to mention colorful pens, tabs, sticky notes, and of course some stickers. The stickers aren’t strictly necessary, but I couldn’t help myself. If I do something, I do it big, and what’s bigger than this?

Already my mind is swirling with notes I want to add to my collection, tidbits about the flavor of the wine and additional details on King Vasilius that no portrait could adequately capture, like the warmth of his hand, the light calluses there, or the way the gold flecks in his eyes sparkle up close. Some of these notes are just for me, diary entries to capture my experience here for all time. Other notes will be for Selena, bits to add to her ever-growing database of fae knowledge she’s working on for the gifted.

I’m hard at work when a soft tap comes on the door.

“Come in,” I call, but whoever it is has already cracked the door.

“Oh!” Fia exclaims before sliding through the narrow space and closing the door behind her. Her hair is tied back in a long braid behind her head. With her pale form and the limited light filtering in through the windows, she almost looks ethereal. “I came to wake you and help you get ready, but I see you are already up and dressed.”

I smile at her from my perch on the bed, surrounded by my books and pens in what probably looks like an absolute mess of things but suits me just fine. “I’ve been up for a little while.”

Truly, the whole having an attendant thing is a little weird. It makes sense that royals would have help—they do in my world anyway—and one of us will be a future royal, but it’s an adjustmentfor sure. My brows pinch together. A misstep maybe? Should I have let her help me get ready? I give my head a little shake. Can’t worry about that now.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asks helpfully. “You’ll be having an early lunch with the queen, but I could bring you something now? Help with your hair if you need. Not that it needs help,” she adds quickly.

To be fair, I didn’t do anything with it other than brush it out, letting the dark waves hang around my shoulders. I didn’t plan to either. Yes, we’re to meet with the queen, but I also want to be seen for myself, not just some made-up version of me.

“I think I’ll be fine,” I say. “I don’t need anything this morning.”

I’d swear her shoulders drop, and she glances at the ground for a moment before smiling at me and giving a shallow bow. “Summon me if I can be of help.”

It’s impossible to miss the note of disappointment in her voice.Damn, I can’t have that.“Actually,” I say before she can fully turn back toward the door. “Do you know if there is any coffee available?”

From my studies, the fae don’t favor it the way humans do for whatever reason, but maybe they’ll have some anyway since they planned to have humans in residence.

“Of course!” Her whole body appears to brighten and lift. “I should have thought of that,” she mutters, half to herself.

“It’s fine, you couldn’t know that I—”

“I’ll get some and be right back!” She whirls toward the door and is halfway out before she stops and turns. “Any milk? Sugar? I hear some humans like that. Or a little… Oh, what is it called?” Her whole face scrunches up as she searches for the word.

I save her the trouble. “Just the coffee. Thank you.”

“Right away!”

The door trembles in her wake, and I can’t help but give a little laugh as I settle back into my studies. Good thing the doors seem to be pretty soundproof or she might have just woken half the hall.

The coffee may have been a bad idea. Between the caffeine boost and my nervous anxiety, I’m a barely contained mess in a dress by the time our meeting with Elaine rolls around. I put on a good face of course, and I know I look good—this modest navy dress never does me wrong. It might be an odd move not wearing the court’s colors on the first full day, but it’s a sure way to stand out. Fia didn’t say anything about it, so it can’t be major faux pas. She seems determined to do everything to perfection, and I have a feeling she expects the same of me and would stop me from doing anything too bad, to save face herself if nothing else.

When it’s time to go, we all meet in the hall. My instincts haven’t disappointed me—the other women are all in vary shades of red or gold.

Cora doesn’t miss a beat, eyeing me up and down with a disapproving smirk. “Forget the court colors already, Mira?”

The comment slices through the chatter and pulls attention toward me like a magnet.

But I half expected this from her.

“Not at all,” I reply in my sweetest voice.

Standing out is my strategy. My best one. The king hasn’t shown much interest in humans? Then I’ll show him one he hasn’t seen before—me. It seemed to work in my favour last night…other than Lysandir’s protest. Just the thought of him dampens my spirit,so I push it away.

“Hmm.” Cora purses her lips. “I suppose poor choices are to be expected from unknown white trash.” She turns, giggling with the stick-skinny blond at her side. Katherine, probably the youngest one here, who clearly has found the wrong role model.

My hands ball into fists at my side, but I stretch my grin wider. As a waitress, I’ve had a lot of experience dealing with rude people, and I summon it now.

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