Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Grumbling, I refill my coffee cup. “I think you know me well enough to believe me when I say I can’t even pretend to be a lady.”
“Just be yourself. The only pretending you need to do is about your relationship with Finn—though I don’t expect that will be much of a stretch.”
I freeze, my coffee cup halfway to my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pretha snorts, then cocks her head to the side. “You think none of us notice the way you look at each other?”
“Pretha, don’t.”
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Once we reach the crest of the mountain, we’ll settle in at the campsite, then travel to the sacred spring farther north.”
“Aren’t we in a hurry to get to the priestess? I thought we were going to her temple.”
“That was the plan, but we won’t be able to see her until tomorrow. Word arrived this morning that in light of the attack on the capital, she’s not seeing anyone who hasn’t made an offering to Lugh.”
I stiffen, thinking of the human “tributes” the Unseelie took through the years of the curse. “What kind of offering?”
“Stop looking at me like I’m going to make you tear out a puppy’s heart. We offer Lugh grains and corn. Nothing your delicate sensibilities can’t handle.”
“I’m not delicate.”
She chuckles. “Regardless, we’ll return to the celebration before nightfall.”
“And what happens tonight?” I ask.
“There will be a bonfire with dancing, drinking, matchmaking ceremonies, and general merriment.”
“You love this,” I say, studying her. Even if she weren’t grinning, her sparkling eyes would give her away.
She shrugs. “I have a lot of good memories from this time of year. My husband was raised out here, and Lunastal was one of his favorite celebrations.” She looks lost in her memories. “He was strong and athletic, and he liked to show off during the competitions, but he also liked . . .” She swallows and lifts her gaze to meet mine. “He loved the community, the people. He loved knowing he’d always have a home here. There’s a certain loyalty among these people that you don’t find at the capital, and Vexius appreciated that.”
“Is this where Finn met Isabel?” I ask, remembering what Finn said in the stables last night about being distracted by his life here when Mordeus stole the rule of the Unseelie Court.
Pretha nods. “Yes. And I imagine that’s why returning is so bittersweet for him.”
“How did they meet?” I ask. “She was a human, right? Was she a servant?”
“You are full of questions this morning. Let’s get you dressed.” She comes around the bed and unzips the red dress. She waits for me to strip out of my sleeping gown before helping me step into it. “Yes, Isabel was human,” she says, zipping me up. “Well, a changeling, technically.”
I glance over my shoulder. “What’s a changeling?”
“There are those among the fae who take special interest in sick human children. They can’t stand to see them suffer and believe it’s their duty to use the magic of Faerie to heal them.”
I spin to face her. “They just steal them from their parents?”
Her face grows serious as she studies me. “I don’t expect you to understand these traditions, but I do ask that you believe me when I say that any child that’s brought here as a babe has its death already written on the wall. It is not easy, and there is much sacrifice to bring a human child to live in our realm.”
“So Isabel was a changeling,” I say. “What does that mean, exactly? Did she have shifting abilities?”
“No,” she scoffs. “Heavens, no. She was just a human raised in Faerie.”
I take another sip of my coffee and remember the woman in the white dress from the catacombs. “And she was very beautiful,” I whisper.
“Yes,” Pretha says. “She was a quiet kind of beauty. The kind of person who looked out for those less fortunate than she was, who always put others before herself.”
Shame swamps me. That wasn’t the kind of beauty I was asking about, but I know Finn well enough to know that who she was would’ve mattered more than the rest.
“She was physically beautiful too,” Pretha says. She pulls a pair of silky stockings from the wardrobe and tosses them on the bed. “Enough so that many believe her adoptive father knew exactly what he was doing when he put her in Finn’s path.”
“But Finn wasn’t supposed to fall in love with a human.”
“No.” She huffs and shakes her head. “I take that back. No one cared who he fell in love with. He just wasn’t supposed to spend his life with a human, wasn’t supposed to put one on the throne beside him. But that was his plan. He’d marry her, make her his queen, and after she gave him a few heirs, she’d take the Potion of Life and become fae.”