Page 18 of A Thief Among Fae

My chest tightens. “Leave, or I’ll scream and wake the village. I won’t let you take me to the Hollowlands.”

“The Hollowlands?” he asks in what sounds like genuine confusion. “You think I came all this way to steal you, and then what? Make you my bride?” He frowns derisively, as if the idea both offends and amuses him.

Does he think I’m hideous? “I’ll have you know that several men in Nettlerock have wanted my hand!” Yet none of them held any interest in me, only my dowry and the promise of children.

“Is that so?” His eyes narrow with skepticism. “Surely coming with me to the Hollowlands would be better than what you endure here.”

Gods, if I weren’t so fearful of fae glamour, I’d consider his point.

“Then what do you want?” My magic thrusts my dagger at his neck, halting it within an inch. “If you want your ring back, I already traded it.”

He doesn’t flinch. I hate how easily he casts a dismissive glance down at the blade, like it’s an inconvenience and not a weapon against his throat. “You’d regret stabbing me before you heard my proposition.” He pauses, daring me with a knowing smirk.

What could the High Court’s prince want with a peasant like me? I thought I’d do almost anything to leave this life behind, but now Evie needs me to find her a healer. My parents need me to do her chores.

“What do you want?” I ask, even though it would be wiser to pretend I’m not interested.

“I need your help with a tomb raid.”

“A what?” I can’t have heard him right.

“I know how absurd that must sound after our first encounter⁠—”

“Extremely,” I cut in. “You said I committed sacrilege!”

His jaw ticks. “No, I merely implied it.”

What could a fae prince want with a tomb in Avedor? It explains why he tried to question me when we first met, but not his scorn. My glare hardens. “You still shamed me and ruined my trade for the bezoar. Why, if you don’t despise raiders?”

“You had a spiritual talisman that belonged to my people—a family killed by yours. It deserved to be treated with care, not hawked in a market like a trinket.” His gaze dips in sorrowful reverence.

“I understand why it was important to you. But I was desperate,” I quietly reply. “She was dying.” If he hadn’t butted in, maybe the hag would’ve taken the statuette instead of asking for the sapphire, the lapis lazuli bracelet, and his ring. That bracelet would’ve fetched so many marks, and I couldn’t wait to add to Evie’s dowry.

Then a derisive laugh bubbles out of my throat, directed at myself. Now, the dowry remains just as pitiful as before. A scar could never mar Evie’s beauty to me, but if the men nearby are that shallow. . . I feel sick thinking about it.

“You don’t raid tombs just for the thrill,” the prince continues. “You want to provide for your family. Yet, you must be running out of tombs nearby.”

I leave the safety of the doorway, halving the distance between us. My hands curl into fists; I hate how easily he reads me. “And?”

The cold intensity in his eyes belongs to someone who knows what he wants and expects to get it. “If you help me, you could have the wealth to provide for them for life.”

For life. His rings glow in the moonlight, and I notice the subtle embroidery on his tunic collar. He might be able to promise me that wealth, but not without a price.

“One raid, and you could have everything you’ve ever wanted,” he reiterates.

I approach him until I’m close enough to see flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, but I don’t dare let go of the dagger I’m levitating. “I have no reason to trust you.”

He mirrors my lean toward him, one I didn’t even realize I’d made. His brows furrow, like he’s trying to solve a mystery, and the only answer is within me. Dropping his voice to a husky whisper, he says, “I can’t do it without you.”

My chest tightens. I can’t explain why. Maybe because no one else has ever asked me to leave Nettlerock for more than an errand or told me that they need my help. Maybe because this is exactly what my parents warned me against: entangling myself with the whims of the fae.

“It’s my magic,” I blurt, remembering how he stared at me after I swapped our items midair. “There’s a trap you need me to disarm, or something like that.”

He nods.

“But I’m an Average. Surely you could find someone else with my Gift, another fae, even.”

The prince’s determination doesn’t waver. “I want you.”