Page 58 of Fake Dating a Human 101

A series of chimes clattered and the noise in the room hushed. Two large curtains were drawn to reveal the great Lord Riothin in a rich cobalt-blue coat. His black beard was braided at his front and his long hair was braided at his back, creating a remarkably symmetrical fae. People applauded politely as he entered the first Yule dance revelry, and Shayne followed suit even though he cringed at the sharp sounds of the chimes that rang in his ears long after they stopped making noise.

As soon as the High Lord was seated, Shayne swept far from Cosmo’s presence and made his way around the tables. He paused when he was just an arm’s length from Lord Riothin. It wasn’t that he was intimidated, it was just that a hundred terrible rumours swirled in Shayne’s head every time he got within reach of the male.

Rumours about Lord Macewite Riothin hunting the innocent on conquests that left entire villages in ashes and childlings without homes. About him dragging back some of those childlings to the House and turning them into lesser fairy servants. About how he often locked his servants away in dark rooms for making mistakes and sometimes he forgot about them for so long, they died.

Shayne took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Truly, some High Lords deserved to be chucked off the nearest cliff to meet the sea dragons. Unfortunately, Shayne had heard so many terrible stories about thisparticularHigh Lord as a childling, he’d had recurring nightmares about being dragged off by him to the House of Riothin.

This House.

Shayne slid into the empty seat beside the High Lord. As soon as he did, Meave appeared on the opposite side of the table and took the seat across from him. Shayne flashed her a dashing smile. Her presence was probably for the best, since Lord Riothin almost always gave her whatever she wanted.

“I didn’t see you there,” Lord Riothin said to Shayne in his deep, dark voice. “What have you learned about my House so far, Shayne Lyro?”

ShayneLyro.

Lyro, Lyro,Lyro.

They always called himLyroaround here.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t really been taking notes.” Shayne folded his hands and relaxed them atop the table. “You know I only came here to stick it to my own House. I imagined I’d just have fun and see what I could offer you while I’m at it.”

Lord Riothin released a dry laugh. “So you say.” He waved over one of the servants carrying a tray of spiked citrus. Shayne accidentally watched the servant a little too hard as she bowed before the High Lord and passed him a drink with shaking hands. Her feet were bare, probably cold in this weather. Normally Shayne would have been jealous of someone in bare feet, but not her.

He dragged his gaze back to Lord Riothin, and he leaned in. “I wonder if you’ve had time to send word to my House?” he asked. He pulled his hands beneath the table and clasped them.

“Not yet.” Lord Riothin lifted his citrus and sipped. The way his eyes moved over the room made it clear he was aware of every single thing happening under his roof.

Shayne sat back. He bit down on his lips to keep himself from blurting something irrational. He settled on, “I wonder why you don’t want to show off to my father that you’ve gained me as an ally? His own son? I’m sure you wish to see the House of Lyro humiliated as much as I do.”

He began tapping his fingers against his knees. All at once, Shayne’s mind went to Fae Café—a place he hadn’t thought of in days, except for the moments when he dreaded that Hans-Der Lyro or his blood brothers had sent scouts into the human realm to seize his humans. His faeborn chest grew tight just imagining it.All he had to dowas convince this man sitting before him to send a letter to the Lyro House informing them of Riothin’s new alliance with Shayne, and they’d refrain from sending scouts or kidnappers into the human world. Every hour that went by made Shayne’s skin crawl more at the thought that he might already be too late. It had already been a week.

“I’m in no rush,” Lord Riothin stated.

Shayne nodded slowly. He turned to face Meave, swallowing his disappointment.

He would try again tomorrow.

“Would you like to dance, Shayne Lyro?” Meave asked from across the table.

“Of course he would,” Lord Riothin stated. It sounded very much like a command, and Shayne flinched. It was like he was back to being a childling, stuck in a nightmare of this man’s House. Only he was wide awake, living it.

This morning, Shayne had witnessed a youthful servant being dragged away at the High Lord’s order and locked in the dusty East-wing attic. Shayne couldn’t pass judgement though when his family had done many equal evils. But he still didn’t like it. He didn’t like overhearing the whispered rumours among the House staff of Riothin’s cruelty. He didn’t enjoy pretending to like a fairy who made his servants jump in terror and made young fairies tremble in his presence.

But Shayne ignored the rumours, ignored the sight of the fellow dragged to the East-wing attic, ignored the whispers. He wasn’t here to do anything about it. He wasn’t here to save the day.

He was here to survive.

And so, he rose from the table, he offered Meave his hand, and he danced until the moon came out.

The first order of business when the sun came up was to catch Cosmo off guard. One bonus about the fairies who ruled the House of Riothin was that they all slept in. Only Shayne was up before the sun, and he’d made good use of his time.

The morning feast was hot and delicious, and for the first time in days, Shayne ate well, slurping up cooked bird eggs in sugar cream, and gobbling down crisp beast meat in pepper sauce. The only thing the meal was missing was coffee.

He patted his stomach when he was finished and sat back in his chair to wait.

Sure enough, when the feasting table was nearly filled and only a few empty seats remained, Cosmo entered the banquet hall. His eyes were still half closed from sleep, his pristine coat was open, hanging off one shoulder and flapping slightly with his lazy strides, and, of course, an enormous mustache was scribbled over his top lip and a pair of human glasses were carefully drawn around his eyes with ink.

Shayne pressed a fist over his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh out loud.

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