Page 18 of The Court the Fae Forgot
She stopped in the middle of grabbing my untouched bowl and frowned down into it for a second before slamming it back down in front of me. “Eat,” she ordered, nodding down at the solidifying gruel. “You’re going to need your strength now. You’ll be making ten orders of pastry flour each week from here on out. For the fae, too, so it must beperfect.”
“Ten?”
That dread returned full force, the muscles in my back spasming as if they already felt the ache of the promised work.
“To start,” my father said, ignoring the incredulity in my voice. He glanced back up at my mother, the greed he’d accused me of time and time again so ugly on his face. “He said they’ll need more if we do well. Which we will,” he added, whirling to point his spoon at me in warning. The uncanny mirth had returned to his face as he looked wistfully back up at my mother. “At this rate, it won’t be long before we can afford to hire help.”
I was so focused on the first thing they’d told me that it took a long moment before I understood the last. Once it began to dawn on me, however, I still refused to believe it.
“Help? At the mill?” That dull humming noise had returned at the back of my mind. It grew louder as the moments passed, threatening to drown out all other sound. I glanced between my parents, my hands growing numb where they laid flat out on the table. “But I don’t need help.”
That was a lie. Of course, I needed help at the mill. It was backbreaking work, especially with orders like the one the fae had placed. Ten bags a week? Unless they planned on telling Ada to take over my other chores, which I doubted, that was already nearly impossible a task. Even on the busiest weeks, when the last harvest was fresh and flour would be needed by all to make it through winter, I’d only ever managed eight.
“You won’t be able to work the mill once you’re married.”
My fathers’ words chilled me to my core, even before his next—spoken to my mother, and not to me—completely froze it. “At this rate, sounds like we aren’t going to be the only ones benefitting from our most recent bout of good fortune. Rayner’s going to be a very happy man one day soon. And I’ll be an even richer one, with the dowry he’s about desperate enough to pay.”
He let out another guffaw, this one sounding even more like a strangled cry than the rest. It was like a horrid beast had replaced the already beastly man who sat beside me, laughing about the last remnants of my childhood being stolen from me in front of my very eyes.
The moment the sound died, he glared me down with a stare that dared me to defy him. The mirth in his eyes was quickly replaced by something I was far more familiar with—hate.
“At least Rayner’s dowry might make up for what you just lost us. You should be grateful, girl. We could—we should, probably—punish you for losing so many coins. Think of this as one last chance to pay off your parents for all they’ve provided you. You won’t have to work at the mill much longer, but I’m sure Rayner will find other ways for you to make yourself useful. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to just let something like that slide.”
Never before had my father disgusted me so.
For a man like him, it was quite an accomplishment.
I knew my parents didn’t want me, knew that they were desperate to be rid of me—but I didn’t know they werethisdesperate. Would they really sell me off at the first opportunity to replace me? Had my mother not been trying to protect me from the stablemaster at all, only protecting her free labor, instead?
I was going to be sick.
Only Ada watched me with worried eyes as I left, my hand pressed to my mouth to hide the gagging noise that had begun to claw its way up the back of my throat.
The day was deceitfully beautiful, the air already warm and humming with the sound of summer sawflies. There were no remnants of the fae or the damned carriage that brought him here. I’d known from the moment I was marked by that first fae in the village that something terrible was coming. I’d known there would be consequences to face, but this, this was too much. I would have gladly faced the consequences for that encounter had it meant Finch had never known to seek us out. I had to believe there was a connection between them, otherwise I’d have to wonder if fate—something I’d never put much stock in—had it out for me.
I’d never learned to hate the fae until today.
But today, Ihatedthem.
If it weren’t for the fae, I’d never be here, hunched at the bank of the river as my stomach attempted to empty the non-existent contents from within. If it weren’t for the fae, I wouldn’t be sitting back, gasping for air as the realization of my future steadily settled in.
I knew what awaited me at the stablemaster’s hands. I’d felt his eyes on me, how they raked over every curve of my body until it made my skin crawl. I’d heard him ask after me like a prized piece of cattle for years, his propositions starting at an age when it would still have been illegal for him to actually take me. But more than that, I’d seen the bruises on his previous wives, seen how they withered away slowly until one day, one after the next, they were buried in shallow graves along the road—not even a headstone to keep track.
How many had there been? Three? Or was it four?
Soon, now that the fae had swept into my life and wrecked the last little bit of happiness I’d fought so hard for, that number would be one more.
Maybe it would be better if I went ahead and climbed straight into one of those graves now, instead of dragging out the inevitable.
I fell forward again, my hand splashing into the shallow river as I struggled to hold back the next bout of painful retching. My hands dug into the pebbled riverbed, the stones as icy cold as the mountain-sprung river … even if calling it ariverwas a stretch this time of year. The raging waters grew so low in summer that even now, if I wanted to meet a watery grave, I wasn’t sure I could if I tried.
When I opened my eyes again, I expected to find my own rippling reflection looking back at me—but instead, all I saw was a pair of glowing, golden eyes.
I leapt up, my steps faltering along the slippery stones as I whirled to face the fox that had been standing so close to me, it had been his face I first saw in the water. He stood, unmoving, on the edge of the riverbank—his gaze fixed, unfaltering, back on me. It was so unnerving, the way he watched me. It was as if he understood me.Reallyunderstood me.
“What do you want?”
My voice reverberated through the trees, echoing like many voices instead of one. I hadn’t meant to shout, but there was already enough adrenaline coursing through my veins that there was no stopping it now.
