Shalini was lost in her phone, and I crossed to one of the bookcases. My gaze roamed over the spines—classics like Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, and Wuthering Heights.
But my gaze started to grow unfocused.
I felt completely disoriented here, and even with Shalini, I seemed to be lost in a fog.
Here was the thing about routines—I missed mine. When I was little, I’d get home from school and do my homework while Chloe cleaned the house. She always had a snack for me. We’d have dinner together, then TV, and a bath. There’d been something soothing in always knowing what was happening.
Long after I left home, Andrew and I formed our own routines. We’d open a bottle of wine, make some popcorn, and read books or watch movies together under the blankets. We’d alternate cooking for each other after work. Weekends were the best, with coffee and newspapers, and pajamas until noon.
And now the routines were gone, and the people I’d enjoyed them with.
Ava, you should be happy for me.
I blinked, clearing my eyes.
I glanced at the beautifully rendered tapestries on the walls. The one closest to me depicted a crumbling castle with overgrown gardens. Hiding in the undergrowth were strange creatures—unicorns, centaurs, and satyrs.
And there were fae, too. Lords and ladies at leisure. Picnicking, bathing, playing music on ornate instruments. In one part of the scene, a hunting party chased a boar. The leader wore a silver crown shaped like stag antlers—the fae king and his host.
I crossed to another tapestry, this one much darker, a shadowy forest filled with monstrous insects—giant spiders and enormous butterflies. Even the trees were sinister, with craggy boughs and trunks carved with leering faces.
In one corner, a group of figures gathered round a small fire, some with butterfly wings. Others had heads shaped like insects; a few were covered in mossy fur. In the middle stood what appeared to be their leader—a woman wearing a thorny crown and holding a staff that glowed with a greenish light. All of them had the pointed ears of the fae, but not any fae I recognized.
The image was strange and beautiful, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It entranced me, and yet, as I stared at it, a corrosive sorrow pooled in my chest. A sense of loss I couldn’t name.
“Shalini?” I called out. “Have you ever heard of fae with wings and fur? Or horns?”
“No.” She slid off the bed. “What are you looking at?”
“See?” I pointed to the tapestry on the right. “Those are normal fae. There’s even one wearing a crown just like Torin’s. That must be the king.”
“Right.”
“But what are these other guys, then?” I indicated the strange figures in the opposite tapestry “Do you think this is what fae looked like thousands of years ago? In prehistory, maybe?”
Shalini shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never heard of any fae that look like this. Maybe it’s just artistic license.” She turned to me. “Is it weird for you, being here among your own kind after all this time?”
I nodded. “Weird as hell, but I’m getting paid for this. What made you so desperate for an adventure?”
She stared at me. “Work was my whole life. And before that, it was studying. I never went to a prom, never went on dates. Never went to parties. And now, I don’t need to work, and I feel like there’s a whole world I’ve missed. Ava, I feel like I’ve woken up at last. But I don’t quite know what to do with myself. Because the Tinder dates have been shit, and there’s only so many nights you can spend at fancy bars before it gets boring. I just know that I can’t stop and be alone with my thoughts.”
“Why?”
She shuddered. “Reality TV staves off the anxiety. There’s a lot of shit to be afraid of in this world. In both worlds, probably, but at least this one is new and distracting.”
I nodded. “Whatever happens here, I’m pretty sure we won’t be bored. There will be plenty to distract you from your own mortality.”
“Perfect.”
Another knock sounded at the door—lighter this time.
“Who is it?” I said, opening the door a crack.
A tiny fae woman stood in the doorway, dressed in a silk bathrobe. Her pale blonde hair hung in loose waves to her shoulders. When she looked up at me, I saw that her eyes were milky white.
“Are you Ava?” she asked quietly.
“I am,” I answered cautiously.
“Oh, good.” Her face brightened. “I’m Princess Orla.”
She looked far too young to get married. “Are you part of the competition?”
Princess Orla laughed, her voice tinkling in the dark hall. “Oh, no. King Torin is my brother.”
Shalini slipped up next to me. Though the princess was clearly blind, she seemed to sense Shalini’s presence. “Who is this?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“I’m Shalini. Ava’s advisor.”
Orla bowed slightly. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.”
“Is there something you wanted, Princess?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound rude. “It’s quite late.”
“Oh, sorry,” said Princess Orla. “I have the hardest time knowing the hour. I just noticed that someone was in the Rose Room, and I was curious. But I didn’t realize it was so late. I’d best be off. Good luck tomorrow,” she said softly.
Before I could reply, she walked down the dark hall and was swallowed by the shadows.
The Rose Room? I looked to Shalini, but she only shrugged. “I didn’t even know he had a sister,” she said. “They’re very secretive.”
I glanced at the dark windows, and a mantle of weariness enveloped me, making my muscles ache, my eyes heavy. But I dreaded going to bed when sorrow had its icy grip on me.
Shalini headed for the smaller room.
“Oh, no,” I said. “The big bed is all yours. I’ll take the little one.”
Her eyes brightened. “Are you sure?”
“I feel more comfortable in a cozy room.”
Shalini leapt back onto the four-poster and immediately snuggled under the blankets.
I returned to the library room, pulling the door shut behind me. I leaned against it for a moment, trying to collect myself. The week had been such a whirlwind.
My comfortable life had been ripped out from under me. I’d been homeless and rejected. Then, within hours, I was living in a magnificent Faerie palace dressed in silk.
None of this seemed real. The one thing I didn’t quite understand was why I didn’t feel more of a sense of homecoming here. I’d always imagined that if I got back into Faerie, it would feel more familiar.
I peeled off the ball gown and hung it on a hook on the door.
The fire was still burning in a stone fireplace, bathing the room in warmth.
I flicked off the light and crawled into the bed. It was small but surprisingly comfortable, and I pulled the covers up to my neck.
I left the curtains open, however, and moonlight spilled in through the multipaned windows. I sat up, peering through the glass. It felt cold and drafty, and little webs of frost had spread over some of the panes, but the fur blanket warmed my legs. I couldn’t make out the grounds of the castle through the window, only a distant line that might be treetops. Tonight, the moon was full, and stars twinkled in the distance.
As I studied the moon, a shadow flew over it, circling the dark sky. My breath caught at the silhouette of massive wings and a long, sinuous tail. For an instant, the sky was illuminated as a great gout of fire bloomed in the darkness.
I held my breath. Dragons were real.
I lay down, hoping the dark mist of sleep would wrap around me, pulling me under the surface.
And if I couldn’t fall asleep, I had a beautiful view while insomnia kept my heart racing.
