Page 33 of Fae Trials

“At least she has wings,” snapped Helen. “You’re just bitter because you’ve been in this class for ten years and never made an inch of progress.”

A hushed silence spread across the large classroom, and I glanced around at all the faces. Some of the students clapped their hands over their mouths, as though Helen had uttered the unspeakable, while others just stared down at their desks.

I swallowed hard. Was remedial class a disposal space for the useless offspring of the fae nobility?

Mr. Whittaker frowned but remained silent, making me wonder if anyone ever graduated from his lessons. After several moments, he coughed into his fist. “Let’s go to the gymnasium for flying practice.”

We all piled out of the class and down a narrow, stone hallway, which opened up into a room larger than Doolish Town Square. Gossamer nets hung ten feet above us, which I assumed were to catch people jumping from one of the two-dozen diving boards that lined one wall. At the far end of the room was a swimming pool with spring diving boards down one side.

Mr. Whittaker stood in the middle of the room and spread his arms wide. “Everybody, get into pairs and practice flapping your wings.”

“This is pointless,” Florensis snapped.

“Those of you without wings should flap them in your imagination,” he said as though accustomed to the girl’s attitude.

I turned to Helen and smiled. “Should we pair up?”

A smile broke out across her features, which made her chestnut eyes sparkle. “I’d love to.”

I turned around and glared at my wings, which fluttered as though they had a mind of their own. “Do you know how to control them?”

Helen closed her eyes, and white wings sprouted out from her back. “They’re just like any other appendage, I suppose.”

“I thought your wings would match your hair.”

Her smile faded, and her shoulders drooped with defeat. “They will when my magic returns.”

“What do you mean?”

Her lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I used to have magic like every other faerie, but I lost it all the day I turned eighteen.”

My eyes bulged. “To a curse?”

“Nobody knows why.” She rubbed the back of her neck and turned her gaze to the diving board. “My father’s keeping me here until I’m fit to return to polite society.”

“Oh.” My insides twisted into awkward knots, and I snatched my gaze away from her blank wings, not knowing where to look. Losing one’s magic was probably like losing one of the senses like sight, but humans helped their relatives when misfortune struck, they didn’t throw them away like trash.

“Can you fly?” I asked.

“Fortunately, I didn’t lose that ability,” she said with a tiny smile.

A slither of relief relaxed my insides, and I clapped my hands together like Mr. Whittaker. It was probably a nervous habit in the face of such hopelessness. “Do you want to show me how it’s done?”

“I’ll take care of this,” said a snide, male voice.

Prince Caulden stepped between us, his nose wrinkled with disgust. Helen bobbed into a curtsey and backed away with an apologetic grimace. The rest of the class fell into silence, and everyone stopped flapping their wings to watch.

“Let’s take a look at you.” He swept his gaze up and down my form. “You’re far sturdier than my fated mate. What did you do before you joined the academy, pull plows?”

Nervous laughter echoed across the room.

Cringing, I pictured Lady Salix, the willowy faerie with the green hair. I probably didn’t conform to his standards if that was his taste. Still, the comment sent irritation bristling across my nerves. Things were different now. I was the fifth fated mate, and I would be damned if I would stand here and allow this royal asshole to compare me to an ox.

Smoothing my hands down my trim waist, I murmured, “It takes a strong male to handle all this, I suppose.”

Prince Caulden narrowed his eyes. “Have you been handled much? I hear that some discarded halflings who can’t survive the brothels come pretending to learn magic.”

I reared back. “What kind of gentleman makes comments like that?”