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“I am yours to command. I do not get to be on a first-name basis with you.”
“That’s total garbage. You call me Ember whenever you want, and if the king has an issue with it, he can take it up with me.”Or maybe my imagination will get the hint, and we can move on.
The woman’s mouth tightens as though she’s trying to fight off a smile. Her eyes, though, betray pain. Something I recognize because I’ve seen it in my own. “Yes, Ember.”
“Great. Now that that’s taken care of, what am I going to wear?”
“Right this way.”
She leads me over to the bed, which is now completely covered in clothing.
“How did you do all this so quietly?”
“I did not wish to disturb you.” She moves closer and runs a hand over a hunter green dress boasting gold embroidered inlays on the skirt.
“It’s all gorgeous.”
“Only the finest,” she replies.
“I’m pretty sure this is all a figment of my imagination, but it’s an impressive one.”
“You do not know much about fae, do you?” Her golden gaze studies me with a curiosity that nearly pushes aside her pain.Nearly.
“No. Until this morning, I was unaware you even existed.”
Her brows draw together.
“That surprises you?” I question.
“To be honest, yes. Supernaturals were outed in your world, according to…” She trails off, and the pain returns. “According to an old friend.”
“I’ve heard plenty about the supposed outing of vampires, witches, and werewolves.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
“I didn’t.” My admission only puts another notch in the ‘maybe this is real’ column. What if the creatures being plastered all over the newsarereal? Then is it really so far-fetched that this faction exists, too?
“Well, all fae have different abilities,” she explains. “My bloodline can conjure.” In demonstration, she snaps her fingers, and a tray of fruit appears on the bed. Plump grapes still on thick green vines adorn a golden tray. “Others can make plants grow, heal the sick. Some are warriors, others, teachers.”
“But all of you can fly?”
Flora nods moments before her expression darkens. “Though some have had their wings clipped. It removes our ability to dematerialize or fly.”
I gape at her. “What do you mean they’ve ‘had their wings clipped?’ That’s a thing?”Sick, twisted imagination for the win.
“It’s a punishment, a way of ensuring your help doesn’t fly off to another realm.”
I’m completely helpless to tear my eyes away from her. I can’t even bother to care about my sickly frame still unclothed and standing in the middle of the room that apparently anyone can pop into. Mutilation? My stomach churns, and for the first time in years, it has nothing to do with what I ate or didn’t eat. “That’s horrible.”
“It is,” she agrees, sadly. “But it’s our custom.”
“Your custom sucks ass.” Covering my mouth, I shake my head. “I’m sorry. My potty mouth is something I’m working on.”
Flora chokes on a laugh. “I assure you, Ember, I’ve heard much, much worse in my years.”
“In your years?” Now it’s my turn to laugh. “How old are you? Fifteen?”
Flora beams at me. She’s a ray of sunshine, and I immediately realize that I completely adore this girl. Imaginary or not, it’s so nice to talk to someone who’s not pitying me. “You believe me to be fifteen years old?”
