Page 14 of The Fae Girl 1

I bit back the retort. Bit my tongue so hard to stop it.

“My name’s Marke, I’m one of Lord Ghosh’s Magi.” He said as if I’d understand what that would mean. “I know this all seems very strange but I promise you it will make sense soon.”

“Oh really? You promise that do you?” I said turning round to face him and feeling the anger rising up again. They were all mad, completely, utterly mad.

“If you just trust me…”

“Trust you? How can I trust you? Going on about Magars and Fae like they’re real, like any of this is real. What even is a Magar, or a Fae, or any of it?”

He tilted his head. Giving a low sympathetic breath. “You don’t have a clue do you?” He muttered before wiping his face with his hand. “Have you not considered the other possibility?”

“What possibility is that?” I asked.

“That maybe this isn’t the world you live in. That you’re somewhere else.”

“Or maybe this is all some big charade, with a TV crew hidden away to get it all for reality TV.” I retorted with the only thing that made sense in my head.

“I don’t know what that means but I can assure you there is no, what did you say, ‘TV crew’ hidden away.”

“Then you are all mad.” I half shouted. “Mad or part of some weird cult.”

“I can take you to someone who can prove it to you. But you have to trust me.”

I narrowed my eyes. Running them over him. He looked like a priest. Or a monk. Some sort of religious zealot.Definitely a cult then. “Prove what? If you could prove it you already would have.”

“Is she ready?” A soldier called through the doorway. He was dressed in full armour, chain mail, the whole works.

I looked from one man to the other. “Ready for what?” I asked feeling my stomach already starting to flip at the thought of whatever was coming next. What fresh torment they would unleash.

“We have to take you to Montefore. To the High King.” Marke replied.

“Where’s that?” I’d never even seen the name on a map and my gut told me there was no such place in England.

“It’s about two days ride from here.”

“The High Prince is waiting.” The soldier said impatiently from doorway.

“The High Prince?” I repeated looking at the pair of them. What sort of a title even was ‘High Prince’?

“Fain, the High King’s brother.” Marke said with a hint of something in his voice that I really didn’t like. “I brought you a cloak, you’re going to need it.” He shoved it at me. It was brown, woollen, though not all that soft. “It would be in your best interests to cooperate.”

“Cooperate? Cooperate, in my own kidnapping, you’ve got to be joking.”

“The High Prince doesn’t take any prisoners. And he particularly dislikes Fae. If you don’t want to spend the next two days being dragged behind a horse I’d recommend you play along.” Marke replied throwing the cloak over my shoulders and pushing me out of the room barefooted.

He gripped my arm firmly through the fabric half hauling me down into the courtyard with the soldier following close behind. Clearly they didn’t want to risk anymore escape attempts but I was damned if I was just going to play along and let them get away with it.

Whatever ‘it’ was that they had planned.

The yard was filled with soldiers and horses. All wearing the same style chain mail and all them stopped what they were doing to stare openly at me.

I rolled my eyes, and scrunching up my face. Like they’d never seen a girl before.

From across the yard a man walked out and everyone dropped to their knee. Everyone except me.

He was tall, bigger built than the rest around him, had a mass of short dark curls on his head and days old stubble lined his face.

But the look he gave me made my stomach drop. I knew that look. I knew it only too well. It was one of pure hate, pure loathing.