Page 8 of The Court the Fae Forgot
She wasn’t even pretending to look at me now.
Her gaze swept up and down the street, as if searching for something that only she could see. The cool touch of morning had long since been replaced with the burn of summer heat. Even along the shaded roads, it wouldn’t be long before my dress would be plastered to my legs, anchoring me down with every step.
But more than that, a darker thought flickered into my mind at the thought of the long tree-lined walk. A memory of the Wildness, however far it actually was from the edges of our forests, crept back into my thoughts and refused to be forgotten. I remembered the draw, those shadowy fingers that seemed to reach out to me, calling to me.
It wasn’t as if the walk home was impossible, but it would be close to nightfall before I got back. I didn’t like to imagine how those shadows might reach for me in the dark.
I wanted nothing more than to get away from the prying eyes of the villagers, but at what cost? I was rattled by the fae, but it was my mind that refused to settle. My body was, as much as I wasn’t ready to admit it, already recovered. There wasn’t so much as an ache to remind me of the waves of overwhelming pain that had laid out even the fae before me. If anything, the more I focused on it, the better my body felt.
I felt … alive in a way I never had before. An energy thrummed within me, growing with each passing second.
“The cart will be faster. We should leave now, together,” I said, flinching even as I said it, knowing the consequences of what I was suggesting. “Papa can’t be far off. He’ll just have to end whatever card game he’s playing early.”
I wasn’t sure which he’d be more furious with me for—getting mixed up with a fae, or an interruption to his gambling.
“We’ll follow after you,” my mother said, a strange new shake to her voice. “You need to get out of here before more news of this spreads. Do you understand me?”
Ada’s voice hitched as she tried to wriggle free of our mothers now vice-like grip. “I don’t want to leave already. We just got here!”
More faces glanced our way, and this time, my mother lost her patience. “Quiet, Ada! You’re drawing even more attention to us.”
“But—” Ada started, her face flushing as it only did when she was gearing up for one of her fits.
My mother surprised us both when she cut Ada off with a swift slap across the face.
It was gentle, hardly enough to make a sound, but it was enough to stun my sister into silence—both of us, really. Her lower lip quivered and her eyes began to glisten with tears. I couldn’t blame her. I was no fan of my sister’s tantrums, but I myself was struggling to force down the urge to lunge at my mother. I was used to the sting of hands on my body, but not Ada.NeverAda. My blood was rushing, the beat of my heart thumping so loudly in my ears that I almost didn’t hear her when she leaned in to hiss out a harsh whisper.
“This is the last I want to hear about this, you understand? From both of you. Thisneverhappened. We’re going to forget about this business with the fae. All of us. Right now.”
She straightened up, her shoulders pulled back, a half-haughty, half-disinterested look on her face as another couple of villagers passed by us. The furious arch of her brows sent both of them skittering away, their own whispers silenced at the sight of her.
“Go, now, before it’s too late. If we’re careful, this might not ruin us,” my mother said, nodding again toward the muddy trek leading out of town. I could see her own thoughts working as she prepared herself for what had to be done next. Ada had fallen into a sullen silence, and though my mother’s hand hadn’t so much as left a mark, I still felt a familiar pang in my chest.
I knew her pain all too well, knew that it wasn’t the physical pain that stung the most.
Despite all my mother’s claims, her demands for us to forget the fae, she’d just made sure that neither of us ever would. You never forget the first time the person who was supposed to protect you hurt you instead.
Before I left, my mother’s hand reached out to stop me for a second. “What did he say?” she asked, her face paling again. “The fae, what did he say to you?”
My lips parted, and I considered lying. I could tell her the fae said nothing, that Ada was mistaken … but there was no point. If she didn’t hear it from me, she’d hear it soon enough from someone else. Better to get ahead of the rumors that were sure to be exaggerated by the time they reached her ears.
“He asked me … what I’d done?”
Her brow furrowed. “Is that all?”
My nod in response brought a flicker of relief to her face, and with it, some of the sharpness of her tongue did, too. Rayner had appeared at the door to the stables, and from the look on his face and the way his fingers itched at his side, as if already wondering how they’d feel fumbling up my skirts, she’d noticed him too.
“Hurry up, girl. Get on now, before you bring on even more scandal than you already have.”
Scandal.
As if anything I did now could be worse than what I already had … even if all I’d done was walk into the village square at just the wrong moment.
I wished I could cause a scandal, wished that there was any way to draw attention away from what the fae did to me, to replace his accusation with almost anything else. Because, try as I might, I knew whatever happened to me today would not be so quickly forgotten as my mother liked to think.
Not by the villagers, and certainly not by me.
Not when it wasn’t just the fae male himself that I couldn’t force from my mind. Not when, after telling myself I wouldn’t lie to my mother, I still did … in a way.
