Moria veritably glided into the castle, and King Torin turned back to Shalini and me. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “The opening ceremonies of the tournament begin soon.”
I shook my head “It’s just after six a.m.”
His hand rested on the hilt of his sword like he might need to slaughter two poorly dressed interlopers at any moment. “In Faerie, time moves differently than in the human realm. It is supper here now. All of the competitors have been waiting for nearly an hour, and you’ll need to look—”
“Less slovenly and common?”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
I’d been sort of joking, but Torin was not.
He turned, catching the eye of one of the footmen outside. “Aeron, bring these ladies to see Madam Sioba.”
Without another word, he stalked off, his cloak billowing behind him.
I looked to Shalini, and she shrugged as the footman gestured for us to follow after the king.
The footman walked in front of us, his boots echoing on the flagstones as he led us deeper into the hall, until we reached a doorway with a set of stairs that curved upward. We climbed the stairs, the darkness illuminated by warm candlelight.
Even the footman was beautiful, his body broad and muscular, his hair dark blond, wavy, and slightly wild. When he glanced back at us, I caught sight of his eyes. They were an otherworldly shade of gold.
Shalini smacked my arm, then nodded at the footman. She grinned at me, and I already knew what she was thinking. He was gorgeous.
But his beauty wasn’t enough to distract me from the sinister feel of this place. I was struck again by a lacerating feeling of being unwanted here, as if the dark stone itself were rejecting me. Shadows danced on the walls around me, making me jump.
The stairs seemed to stretch on forever. How big was this place?
“I’m regretting skipping my leg day,” Shalini said from behind me. “I mean, like, every leg day.”
At last, the footman led us into a hall, where tawny light slanted through narrow windows, casting diamond-shaped shadows onto the suits of armor lining the opposite wall. Even though the hall seemed to stretch on forever, not a single other fae was up here. The castle itself seemed to be almost entirely deserted, only the shadows moving across the stones.
I desperately wanted to ask the footman for a snack, but I didn’t imagine that was on the agenda for now. “Where are you taking us?” I asked quietly.
He turned with a hint of a smile. “Just a little further.”
As we walked, I grew increasingly confused how the interior of the castle could be so large.
At last, we stopped by an oak door inset into the wall. A small brass plaque beside it read Madam Sioba’s Finest in curling script.
The footman knocked, the sound echoing down the hall.
A woman answered. She had the pointed ears of a fae, which stuck up through loose hair of a wiry gray. She looked exhausted, with bags under her eyes that could have rivaled my own. But her clothing was exquisite, a long robe of crimson silk embroidered with gold threads.
“Aeron?” She tutted. “Don’t tell me he wants another one. What am I supposed to do with this mess…and her human?”
“Listen, Sioba. You don’t want to get in the way of the king’s will, do you? Or what’s best for Faerie?” He nodded at me. “I thought not. So she’ll need a dress.”
Madam Sioba’s lip curled as she looked me over, but she pulled the door open wider. “Better get on with it.”
We entered a dimly lit workshop with a black and white tiled floor. Aeron entered behind us but stayed by the door, arms folded. His blond hair hung rakishly before his eyes.
I surveyed the room. Rolls of fabric were draped over every surface: taffeta, silk, satin, velvet, chiffon, and brocade. Bundles leaned against the walls, were stacked on shelves, and had been stuffed into large wicker bins. Skeins of thread and yarn littered the place, tinged red in the light of the sunset.
But my gaze slid to a plate of scones, by far the most appealing thing to me right now. It wasn’t so much that I was hungry, since the heartbreak had destroyed my appetite, but a buried instinct knew I needed calories. When was the last time I’d actually eaten?
“You’re Ms. Jones?” Madame Sioba’s voice snapped me out of my hunger-trance.
I blinked at her. “How did you know my name?”
“It’s not important.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Now get up there, and let me get a proper look at you,” she ordered, and gestured to the enormous ottoman.
I started forward, but Madam Sioba caught my arm and pointed at my feet. “Not in those hideous things.”
“Oh, right.” I was still wearing my Nike running shoes.
I started to bend over, but Madam Sioba flicked her wrist, shooting a flash of yellow flame at my shoes. They ignited, and I jumped, my muscles clenching in anticipation of the burning pain that was sure to come. It took me a moment to realize I wasn’t on fire, just barefoot. The acrid scent of burning plastic hung in the air. My shoes and socks had been completely incinerated, but my skin was untouched.
My eyes met hers, and my mouth hung open.
She tutted. “I can see you are unaccustomed to magic. That’s fine. We are welcoming of all sorts here. Even the common fae.” Her voice dripped with disdain.
Why was it that whenever they claimed to be welcoming here, it sounded very much like the opposite?
Madam Sioba ignored me, muttering to herself as she poked around in a large hamper full of scraps of satin. “Simply unbelievable. I specifically told Torin that they need to be here at least a day in advance. And these two, dressed like common whores.”
Shalini and I exchanged looks.
“You do realize we can hear you?” I asked.
Madame Sioba either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Every single time”—she shook her head as she tossed pieces of fabric onto the floor—“Torin thinks I’m going to fix his problems for him. As if I don’t have any life of my own.” She turned back to us, holding up a lustrous piece of satin in an antique cream color. “What do you think of this?”
My eyes flicked back to the scones. “It’s beautiful. Sorry, is anyone going to eat those?”
“It’s perfect,” Shalini added.
Madam Sioba’s gaze moved to Shalini, and her right eyebrow twitched up. “Who, exactly, are you?”
“I’m Shalini, Ava’s official counsel. I believe I’m supposed to get a dress as well.” She smiled hopefully and handed me one of the scones.
No one had said anything about a dress for her, but she couldn’t keep running around in her pajamas.
Madam Sioba grunted dismissively and yanked a piece of emerald taffeta off a table. Then her gaze returned to me, and she grimaced, clearly irritated. “Why aren’t you on my ottoman? For the fitting, I will need to see you properly.”
I hopped up on the velvet surface, and Madame Sioba glared at me. In my bare feet, nylon running shorts, and thin running shirt, I felt strangely naked.
She walked around, muttering to herself as she took my measurements. “Nice hips. That’s good. Torin likes a bit of curves. Not that you really have a chance.” Her gaze had moved to my face, and I felt myself blush. “Good bone structure, pretty face. I suppose that’s why you’re here. Skin will do, apart from the eye bags. Then there’s the bloodshot eyes, and the hair’s an absolute fright—”
Given that she was pointing out all my flaws, I no longer cared about being polite, and I took a bite of the scone. It was buttery and delicious, but I only had two bites before she snatched it away from me and tossed it on the floor.
From behind us, Aeron muttered, “For gods’ sakes, Sioba.”
I’d nearly forgotten he was here.
“Madam Sioba?” Shalini said. “King Torin said the banquet starts in only twenty minutes—”
“Do you want Ms. Jones to look like a slatternly harlot?” Sioba shot back. “Is that what you want? My work takes time. Designing, fitting, hemming.” She shrugged with an exaggerated sigh. “What I do is an art, and it cannot be rushed. Especially in tragic cases like this.”
Shalini pressed her lips together and glanced at the footman.
Madam Sioba walked around a few times before she stepped back to appraise me once more. “Aeron,” she barked, “you will need to leave the room now.”
Aeron flashed me a devilish smile like he was about to say something flirtatious. But the smile faded as quickly as it had arrived—probably when he realized I could be his next queen, and he’d be wise to keep his mouth shut around me. With a shrug, he stepped out, closing the door behind him. Shalini and I were left alone with the dressmaker.
Cocking her head, Madam Sioba flicked her wrist again. A flash of flames and heat engulfed me. I gasped, nearly falling off the stool.
“Stop thrashing about,” tutted Madam Sioba. “You’re fine.”
“Wow,” said Shalini. “That’s quite a party trick.”
I looked down to find my skin unmarked by fire. That was the good news. The bad news was that I was completely naked.
“What happened to my cell phone?” I asked.
“You’re standing here, naked as the day you were born,” said Sioba, “and that’s your concern? Those contraptions are vile things. We never should have allowed them here.”
I supposed it was for the best because I wouldn’t be able to stare at it anymore, hoping that Andrew would text.
White puff sponges ran over my skin, making suds.
I was reasonably comfortable being naked around other women, but I’d only just met Sioba, and we hadn’t exactly bonded. I covered myself with my arms. Warm water ran over me, streaming down my hair and dripping down the floor. Sioba had created a shower for me, here in her workshop.
The warm water stopped, and I felt hot air blast over me, drying the water from my skin and hair. When I opened my eyes again, my skin was dry—and the ottoman, too. My hair hung down in shining waves, and when I reached up, I felt a crown of flowers on my head.
Now I could taste lipstick on my lips, though I was still uncomfortably naked. Awkwardly, I covered my boobs.
“Stand still,” she hissed.
She muttered under her breath in a language I didn’t understand, and a cream-colored lace floated through the air as if blown by an unseen wind.
Madam Sioba directed the silk around me, and it slid around my breasts, hips, and ass. This felt…awkward.
When I looked down, I realized she’d just used magic to create racy, transparent underwear for me. It was surprisingly comfortable.
But that was when Madam Sioba’s door cracked open, and she and Shalini spun to face the intruder.
“Hey!” said Shalini. “We’re not finished in here!”
I expected to see Aeron skulk out of the room. Instead, I found myself staring at the ice blue eyes of King Torin. He was gazing right at me.
“You can’t be in here right now,” Madam Sioba snapped.
The king had gone stock-still, and icy shadows gathered around him. I waited for him to apologize and back away, but he seemed strangely frozen in place.
“Do you mind?” I said.
He pulled his gaze away, his body rigid. “I was just coming to see if you were ready. What is the delay?”
Madam Sioba jumped in front of me. “I’ll be done with her in a minute, Your Highness. Please wait outside.”
With his eyes on the floor, Torin crossed out of the room.
“Oh, my, oh, my, I must have forgotten to lock the door,” said Madam Sioba, tsking under her breath. “Well, I suppose you’ll have an advantage if he liked what he saw.”
Turning back to me, she raised her hands, and a bolt of satin slid from a shelf. Hanging in midair, it unspooled as if guided by invisible fingers. As the cloth stretched and extended, I stared at the gorgeous rose-gold silk knitting itself into the shape of a dress before my eyes. A swathe of tulle slipped over it, covering the silk to form a sort of bodice. Pearly threads flowed through the air, embroidering a sort of delicate belt with tiny shimmering beads. For an instant, the dress hung before us—one with a plunging neckline and a rather daring slit up the side. A swath of fabric hung down the back like a cape. It looked very 1930s movie star, which I loved.
Then, with a flick of her wrist. Madam Sioba sent it flying towards me. Soft tulle brushed my bare legs and satin clutched at my ribs as it wrapped round my body like a glove.
Shalini gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Just one more second,” Madam Sioba yelled, turning back to me. “What shoe size?”
“Seven.”
Sioba flicked her hand again. I barely had time to duck as a pair of cream-colored heels appeared. She spun them around, then directed them to the foot of the ottoman.
As I stepped into them, Madam Sioba called out, “Okay. She’s ready.”
The door cracked open again, and I saw the now-familiar flash of King Torin’s blue eyes on me.
“Ava’s ready, but I need to make her advisor’s outfit,” said Madam Sioba.
King Torin glanced at Shalini, who remained dressed in pink slippers and an oversized T-shirt. “Aeron will wait for you,” he said. “I’ll take Ava. The opening ceremony starts in ten minutes.”
Truth be told, I felt amazing as I slipped off the ottoman and crossed toward the hall. Torin held the door open for me, and it closed behind him.
The corner of Torin’s mouth quirked as he looked down at me. “When we enter the ceremony, it would be best if you didn’t draw too much attention to yourself. Understood?”
My eyebrows shot up. “I told you, I hate being the center of attention. What makes you think I would try to get it on purpose?”
He stopped, then turned to face me with an eyebrow raised. “It’s just that the first time I met you, you were screaming about Chad from Hitched and Stitched. I think you called me a ‘pretty douchebag’ and said something about my teeth.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “That wasn’t a normal night for me.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” His dark magic coalesced around him as his expression grew more serious. “But when we reach the great hall, I do not want you to speak to any of the six princesses.”
This was starting to feel a bit insulting. “Look,” I whispered, “I’m on your side, here. I’ll keep my end of the bargain, and I’m not going to make a scene. Have you seriously never gotten trashed and acted like an ass?”
He held my gaze. “I don’t like to overindulge, and particularly not around people with whom I’m not extremely well acquainted.”
When he said the phrase “extremely well acquainted,” a hot shiver ran up my spine. Ignoring it, I flashed him a wry smile. “Of course you don’t like to overindulge. Your hair could get rustled in public, and that would be dreadful. What can we expect from the opening ceremony?”
His expression darkened. “It will be a room full of people vying for my attention in their finest clothes, drinking champagne. Talking to each other about absolutely nothing.”
“You mean…it’s a party. Do you actually hate parties?”
A line formed between his brows. “I’m afraid I don’t see the point of them. At least, not this kind of party.”
“Right. Parties are fun, and fun doesn’t seem like your thing.” Truth be told, fun wasn’t my thing right now, either. But maybe needling Torin was the tiniest bit of fun I could wrench from the world.
He shrugged slowly. “Not this kind of party, anyway.”
“Is the castle party with princesses not fancy enough for you?”
“It’s not Seelie enough for me.”
I had no idea what that meant, and I suspect he’d done that on purpose—a little reminder that I didn’t belong here, didn’t know about my own people.
He arched an eyebrow. “When we have time, I will ask you what you do, Ms. Jones, besides scream at men you’ve just met at a bar. I suppose you must also leave time in your schedule for forming brutal snap judgments concerning people about whom you know nothing.”
“But I know plenty about the fae hierarchy, Torin,” I said. “It’s the whole reason I spent my life in exile. And so far, you’ve confirmed everything I’ve thought about it.”
“Well, that’s good, darling, because as I said, I’m looking for someone I can’t love, and so far, you are the perfect match.”
That’s right, Torin. I’m not super lovable. His words stung a bit after Andrew’s rejection, and without entirely realizing, it, I found myself flipping my middle finger at him.
He glanced down at it, looking baffled.
Feeling childish, I shoved my hand back in my pocket. “So, that’s it? It’s just a party?”
“And after the pointless small talk over canapés, I will explain the rules of the tournament.”
I bit my lip. “Tell me something. Why would someone who loathes being undignified invite a television crew to broadcast this whole charade?”
He pressed his hand against the wall, and as he leaned closer, I smelled his earthy, masculine aroma. “Because I’m a man who does what he must. And in this case, my kingdom is starving, with the winters growing longer every year. Faerie is enduring a famine, and for the past twenty-three years, we have been forced to buy food from humans. But I can’t keep taxing my people to death to pay for it all. The network is paying me one hundred fifty million dollars an episode to make this show, and I will be able to settle my debts with the humans.”
I stared at him. “Is that why the fae decided to come out of Faerie? You needed our food?”
“That’s precisely it. We just need to get through this one last winter, and then our magic will return with the help of a queen.” He pulled his hand away and shrugged. “It seems that what humans desire above all else is entertainment, so that is what I will give them.”
“That seems accurate.” My gaze roamed over his pointed ears—so strange to be around others like me, after all this time. “But if you’re so desperate for money, why are you wasting it on me and this whole charade instead of just finding someone you love?”
“Because love isn’t for me, Ava.”
I narrowed my eyes. “We have something in common. What happened? Did someone break your heart?”
He turned and started walking, and I hurried to keep pace with him. “You know, for all the vitriol you unleashed on me about the falseness of human entertainment, I note that you are not immune to its charms.”
“Nice evasion of my question.”
“You seem to know a lot about Chad and his teeth,” he added.
I shrugged. “Guilty pleasure. The romance is bullshit, but it’s fun when they fight. There’s always a crazy one.”
He cut me a sharp look. “And why do I have a feeling the crazy one in your cohort might be you?”
“Because you like forming snap judgments about people you just met? Oh, shit. Do we have something else in common?” I shuddered. “We should probably stop talking before we get involved in a messy emotional entanglement.”
“Right.” A smile ghosted over his lips, just for a moment. “Faster, Ava.”
And with that abrupt order, he’d picked up the pace, his cape billowing behind him.
