Page 39 of The Lost Fae
"Yes!" I straighten. "Everything is wonderful. Sorry, I wasn't expecting thefull spreadfor breakfast this morning." I motion to the food on the table and the entirety of the crew crowded in the mismatching chairs.
"Very well. Please, help yourself," the queen repeats.
I lean forward in my seat, reaching for the plate of biscuits. Lincoln moves, intertwining his fingers with my outstretched hand. I pause.
"Allow me." He dips his head.
Reluctantly, I pull my hand away. Maybe he knows what's poisoned...
Or maybe he wants to do something nice for you...Lincoln interjects.
I bite down on my lip and fold my hands patiently into my lap.Or that.I wonder when the day will arrive that I won't be surprised by Lincoln trying to take care of me.
The conversation around us picks up again in a quiet hum of pointed whispers. I'm sure the pirates are well aware that we can hear everything they say, they just don't happen to care. Or the entire point is for us to listen in at every mean insult they hurl at us.
And for a brief moment, I thought we could be friends.
Lincoln sets down my plate, the china just as colorful as the home, the meal a small variety of options. I wait for him to make his plate and sit back into his seat before I pick up my fork and eat. Many of the humans were eating well before we had arrived, and their plates dwindle down to nothing in a matter of minutes.
Anastasia sits at the head of the table, sipping a coffee from her small cup. Her eyes dart between me and Lincoln before she smiles and looks over the rest of the crew. Does she think no one will notice her sudden youth? That we would just accept that she looks years younger overnight?
The question sits on the edge of my tongue, putting pressure behind my lips. I stuff a large bite of biscuit in to discourage the urge. There are too many people milling about. We have to wait for them to leave.
And they do.
One by one as the pirates finish, they leave their plates behind and escort themselves out of the room. Lincoln and I take our time eating, counting down the chairs until only Captain Beatrice, Johanna, and the queen are left. Both of the pirate’s plates are empty, but they lean back in their seats, content. Beatrice's arms are tucked behind her head. The position makes her hat lift off her forehead at an odd angle, showing off the black hair that's flattened underneath. Johanna slouches in her seat and grips the arms of the chair. She looks as if she lets go that she'll just melt into a puddle under the table. Maybe the rage inside of her is what's making her this way.
"Would we, uh, be able to speak to the queen? Alone?" Lincoln clears his throat and pushes his now empty plate away.
My stomach is satisfied and full, but I can't stop myself from finishing the last couple bites of oatmeal and fruit. Who knows when the next time we'll have a decent meal is?
"Whatever for?" Anastasia pouts as if she's forgotten.
We have not forgotten. I have not forgotten.
Not even for a moment, not even for the quickest breath. The memories of Jase on his knees next to Cordelia. The fire in Rowan's eyes as the queen whisked me away. Zeve and Lylix proclaiming my reign. A fearful court chanting my title. Calhutta, full of Fae stripped of their wings and their dignity. Young women in hiding, or free without the ability to carry children. I won't forget. Lincoln won't forget.
"I want to go home." Each word is edged with anger, my frustration at her innocent act.
"Oh, we'd all like to gohome," Captain Beatrice chuckles. "Better get comfortable. No one ever leaves this place.
"We will, and Queen Anastasia is going to tell us how. She can choose to do so with or without your presence." I slide my gaze to Anastasia. "Your choice."
"I think you're going to want to hear ourproposition." Lincoln tacks on.
"Fine. Fine. Captain Beatrice, please excuse yourself and your first mate. I'll find you after this little talk of ours." The queen is all but rolling her eyes.
I edge around her mind. She's more guarded than any human I've encountered so far, but after I run a mental finger over her wall I know that if I yank hard enough I'll be able to tear it right down.
Be gentle, or you'll break her mind.
Maybe that isn't a bad thing.
Trust me... it's always a bad thing.
My head turns, following the Captain and Johanna as they walk from the room. I sigh trying to be content with asking questions instead of breaking into her consciousness. But the urge is there, and we have the power to do so.
Last resort.Lincoln chimes.If she won't willingly give us the answers, then I'll enter her mind to make the suggestion or find the information myself. Carefully.
