Page 22 of The Court the Fae Forgot
Both their voices faded the moment my shadow fell over them, their hands reaching out to protectively sweep the small fortune out of sight, off the table and into the sack they quickly tucked away, as if I didn’t know where they hid it when they thought I wasn’t looking.
“What do you want, girl?” my father barked, his face reddening. From the number of empty jugs turned over in front of him, he was already far deeper into his cups than usual. His gleeful face had soured at the sight of me, as it usually did.
My mouth was so dry, I had to fight for the words to come out.
“Is it true? You’re sending Ada away, to school?”
I stood like a ghost, pale and white, in the doorway.
My mother’s lips pursed as she looked me over. “So, she’s told you, has she?”
I glanced over my shoulder at my sister, and suddenly, seeing the way she glances away from me, refusing to meet my eye, I understood.
She wasn’t looking at me with suspicion all these weeks. It was withguilt.
She’d known all along that this was the plan. She’d known this was how they really planned to use the money, but she hadn’t told me?
But … why?
I felt betrayed in a way I had no right to. I’d planned on taking the money for myself, after all. Why not Ada, instead?
“See?” my mother said, shaking her head at my father seated across from her. “This is why I said we shouldn’t tell her. She’s jealous. Thinks we should send her, instead.”
The laugh they shared stung despite myself.
Not because they thought it was so ridiculous that I would desire an education, but because they truly thought I wouldn’t wish that privilege for my own sister. The same sister I’d suffered for all of my life, never complaining that she received none of the harsh treatment I’d endured in her stead.
My parents really intended to send Ada to school.
This … this changed everything. Was I really so eager for my own freedom that I would rob my sister of hers?
My mind started reeling.
I could wait another month, two months, however long it took for her tuition to be paid off. I could take a little here and there instead of taking it all at once. I’d risk getting caught, but I could make sure my parents had saved up enough money to hire my replacement before I left—make sure that the money funding my sister’s education kept coming, despite my being gone.
When my parents turned back to me, there was no sign of the brief laughter they’d shared. In its place was only contempt.
“Why shouldn’t she go to school?” my mother snapped at me, misreading the panic on my face. “We finally have enough money to send her away. Aren’t you proud that your sister will get to be educated? Why would you want to take that away from her?”
Once again, despite myself, embarrassment flooded me. “Of course, I’ll be proud,” I stuttered, still in shock. The thought of staying here, in this house for one more day—let alone returning to the mill—was enough to make nausea rise at the back of my throat.
My father lifted his wrist to wipe the stain of wine from his lips before growling out, “You’re a wicked thing, you know that?”
I had no chance to respond before he nodded his head toward the open door leading to their bedchamber.
What I saw there sent the entire world crashing down around me.
There, hanging in the door, was a white dress—or what used to be a white dress—the edges embroidered with thick, clumsily hand-tied lace.
The lump at the back of my throat was so large, it more than threatened to choke me. It actually did.
“Oh please, stop being so dramatic,” my mother spat, eyes rolling. “Consider yourself lucky. Anyone could tell you wouldn’t be able to keep up at the mill another month. Your work as Rayner’s wife will be far better suited for you.”
I finally managed to sputter out a reply, my eyes still glued to the wedding dress in horror, unable to look away. “But … but you’ll need me. To work the mill. To pay for Ada’s school.”
My father gave the bag of coins an appreciative jingle beneath the table.
“This will be just enough to pay for Ada’s first few months of school,” he said. “And Rayner’s dowry will hire a new farmhand and hold us over until the fae’s next payment.”
