Page 7 of The Court the Fae Forgot
“Very well,” she said, handing me the coins—half as many as usual, at first, but one more glance up at my face and suddenly the rest of the coins appeared as well. From the way she stepped back from the counter, her feet shuffling so quickly that her skirts took a moment longer to follow, it was clear what the extra payment was for.
Betrayal stabbed somewhere deep within me, but I ignored it, instead choosing to focus on the one stroke of luck I’d managed to drum up.
Thank goodness I didn’t mess this up, too.
I quickly packed the coins into my purse, tying it shut with that length of ribbon in my pocket. It was all that was left of a blanket gifted to me at my birth, a stunning gold color whose remnants glittered in a way that brought back the memory of the fae’s matching medallion.
Even this now reminded me of the fae.
Everything reminded me of the fae.
There would really be no forgetting him, not now. Not when I wasn’t the only one seemingly determined not to.
CHAPTERFOUR
It wasthis thought that drove me and Ada quickly from the shop, the crowd outside scuttling to get out of our way as we passed through with ducked heads and hurried feet. For once she didn’t escape me, not when I kept one hand wrapped tightly through the back loop of her belt like a creature on a leash. I’d already been through enough today. I wouldn’t lose her again.
The stares grew more subtle as we drew further away from the town square, to where news of the altercation hadn’t yet spread. I caught sight of my mother from afar, her head bowed over a ball of yarn that had yet to take on any recognizable shape. A quick glance over her perch on the edge of the shaded cart told me everything I needed to know.
I would be scrubbing that thing for hours—but I didn’t care.
Not when there was still a chance she’d not heard what happened. There was none of the worry I’d expect to see on her face, no knitting of her brows or tense draw of her shoulders.
In turn, I felt my own fingers loosen their hold on the back of my sister’s belt and she took the opportunity to immediately bolt ahead to my mother’s side, her golden curls streaming out behind her as a wicked laugh bubbled up the back of her throat. Her fingers were sticky with melted icing and her face stained red from berry filling as she waved the overflowing bag of sweets in her excited arms.
Any brief moment of relief I might have enjoyed ended all too quickly when that same excitement sent her words tumbling out between trembling lips, any earlier promise forgotten in the heady rush of too much sugar.
“Mama, Mama!” Ada’s voice rang out, drawing glances from passersby before I could stop her. “Aurra saw a fae!”
As far as accusations could go, it was hardly damning. Nothing, of course, compared to whatactuallyhappened.
Still, my mother grew as stiff as a statue—her skin paling to a shade to match. Loop by loop, the yarn in her hands dropped to the ground, completely forgotten the moment my sister’s words filled the now growing silence between us. Her face, now nearly white, turned slowly to look at me. Unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing—so unsettling was it that I worried for a moment that she might be in the process of passing away.
Her lips parted but she said nothing, her eyes choosing instead to stare into mine with a look I couldn’t fathom.
Ada, completely oblivious to the weight of what she’d just done, looked between the two of us with slowing steps.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, the excitement in her voice quickly fading to annoyance as it wasn’t matched. “There was a fae. He was so tall. Everyone else was just staring, but he talked to Aurra.”
My mother just continued to stare at me, her face as expressionless as the words that finally came out in a stuttering whisper. “There’s a fae, a fae here in the village?”
Clearly not happy with the reaction—or lack thereof—Ada’s voice picked up an octave. Her face screwed up, cheeks puffing out in a pout that would have been more fitting if she was a few years younger.
“It isn’t fair. He didn’t even look at me, and I’m wearing my very best dress.”
Her voice was a loud whine, her cheeks reddened as she practically flung herself into my mother’s arms as if my worst nightmare was somehow hers, too.
Now, those faces that had briefly glanced toward us had begun to stare. Footsteps faltered, heads leaned close together to whisper, their eyes flitting over to me where they remained a moment too long.
This my mother noticed, too.
A great shudder wracked her body, finally shaking free the shock that had cemented her in place. She straightened so suddenly that she knocked the bag of pastries from Ada’s arms, then uncharacteristically scolded my sister until her eyes grew wide and her jaw finally clamped shut.
Only then did she turn back to me, her footsteps hurrying her over to where I stood while one hand grabbed Ada to drag her along close at her side.
“Aurra, you must return home,” she whispered, her glance scanning the faces behind me that still dared to stare. “Right now, before anything worse happens.”
“Anything … worse?”
