Page 11 of The Fae Menagerie
I'd said I would take care of him, and then I'd touched the coin. I sensed it would hold me to that promise until I touched it again and gave it a new directive, or maybe until it considered Parker sufficiently taken care of. Either way, I was so screwed.
I circled my elbow around his and led him into the library. "You'll want a book." I'd gotten good at pretending to read while hiding my face from view of the audience outside. I grabbed my usual book from the table by the door, an illustrated book of flowers, the only non-romance selection. Whenever I was homesick, I looked at the beautiful illustrations. It was my comfort read.
"I thought you said you'd read them all."
"I have. Now, I pretend."
He laughed and grabbed a thin book from the nearest shelf. Then, he followed me through the doorway into the viewing room and gasped. Fae of all shapes and sizes filled the green space outside.
"Who are all these people, erm, fae?" he asked.
"The menagerie viewers. They can't hear us." My regulars were already here, so I introduced them to Parker one by one. "The woman on the bench with the beautiful wings and green hair?—"
"Your mother," Parker guessed.
I confirmed with a nod. "She'll be here every day."
He waved to her, and she gave him a gentle head nod. I had seen my mother rip a human limb from limb for disrespecting her with a wave. She really must have thought Parker would help me break the spell. If only she knew how wrong she was.
"The redcap is guardian to Prince Drummond of the Unseelie Court." I pointed to the short brick wall of a goblin with a blood-crusted cap on his head. It had been a while since he'd dipped it in the blood of his enemies. I knew he was waiting to dip it in mine, here to avenge his master's broken heart.
I still didn't understand why the prince had fallen in love with me, of all people. Yes, I was a prince in my own right, but we Anthousai were a small group who kept to ourselves.
"He looks terrifying."
I laughed at Parker's attempt at humor, or maybe he was serious.
A pitcher of water and a glass appeared on the end table nearest Parker. This was another of my mother's treats for him. The room had never provided me water before.
The viewing room's only seating was a small couch with a wood frame and red velvet upholstery. This one was smaller andfar less comfortable than the one in the living room. I'd worn ridges in the padding over centuries of viewings.
I withstood the sensation pulling us toward it for all of one second before I dragged Parker to it, helped him sit, and poured him a glass of water. Then, the final bell sounded, pulling me into my seat. I was both grateful and a little sad it didn't pull me into Parker's lap, instead nudging me into the open spot.
"Your mom is clapping." Parker raised his glass to her before taking a long drink. I watched his throat bounce as he swallowed, entranced.
A sharp knock on the glass snapped my attention to a young girl with sharp pointed ears, four arms, and two legs covered in downy brown fur.
"Kiss him, already,"she signed to me.
I pointed to her, instead. "This little cuddlebug is our next-door neighbor's daughter, Calista."
"Cuddlebug? Like a nickname?"
"Type of fae."
"Got it." He almost choked on a sip of water, and I thumped his back until he recovered. "I thought a giant spider lived next door when I saw one through the kitchen window yesterday."
I didn't point out that cuddlebugs were more insect, since they only had six limbs.
"The spider fae are on the far end of the menagerie." I pointed in their direction and shook off the uncanny feeling of spiders crawling all over me. I hated spider fae. They got into your ears and laid eggs. No, thank you.
I must have thought about them longer than anyone should. When I returned my gaze to Parker's, he smirked.
"And the rest?" he asked.
"The rest come and go. They might be here tomorrow. They might not."
"How often do they knock on the glass?"
