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My companion looked down at me and smirked. “His Royal Highness will introduce you to the court after dinner. In the meantime, you are free to enjoy the entertainment, human.”
The way he’d stressed “human” made me uncomfortable. He was pretty, but there was something about him that reminded me of a high school bully. I wanted to ask him what he meant with entertainments, but he turned away without saying goodbye.
And then I stood there by myself, ignored by the court whose princess I was supposed to be. The Fae around me kept their distance. Nobody approached me, although they snickered and whispered with plenty of glances my way.
My red hair and small stature made it clear to everyone that I was different. That I didn’t belong, despite who my mother had been.
The ladies of the court were tall and slender, some with fine white blond hair and lustrous skin, others dark with a swarthy complexion and black curls bouncing above equally black eyes.
If Bleddyn were here, I would have asked him about the difference. Inside of me, every insecurity I’d ever had raised its ugly head.
Show no fear.
Daeary’s voice sounded so loud in my mind, I looked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t standing behind me. He wasn’t, but I would take his advice.
I wouldn’t show any fear, but I didn’t stop me feeling like the kid who didn’t belong. It had been the same way at my high school. I was the small redhead amongst the sturdy kids with Scandinavian roots. Kids whose names ended in “sen” and who were six feet tall in middle school. And not just the boys, either.
In Faerie, I was too curvy, my hips too wide. Back in high school, I was too skinny. I drew a shuddering breath as the music demanded my attention.
Deep musical notes pulled at the bottom of my stomach, vibrating slowly through the floor until the air hummed with sadness. Yet again, I fought back tears that would make my eyes glassy and my nose shiny and red.
What was wrong with me? I didn’t usually burst into tears at the drop of a hat.Pull yourself together, Beth.
And then the music changed, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. A piccolo flute trilled hysterically, and the music turned from slow to a fast dance tune.
The Fae cheered and moved into a circle, laughing and skipping. Some beckoned me to join them, and as if the music had taken over my muscles, my feet carried me to the center of the circle.
I felt happier than I had in a long time. Finding the rhythm nearly immediately, I lifted up my dress and danced. I threw back my head and laughed, doing an intricate sequence of steps I’d practiced at the academy with Amber a lifetime ago.
The Fae clapped and yelled as somebody else joined me in the circle. It was a young man, barely older than me. He would have been handsome, dressed in Fae clothing of pale yellow which set off his hazel eyes and darker hair. But he looked terrified, his fear wafting off him in sour waves.
“It’s okay,” I shouted. “Enjoy yourself. This is fun.”
His gaze locked with mine, and the terror and despair in his eyes cut through my soul. I wanted to assure him, but he shook his head, his face so pale, I thought he might faint right here. Maybe if I showed him that it was safe here, that he was among friends?
I danced closer to him and took his hand, smiling encouragingly. His skin was hot, and he pulled away immediately. Maybe he was sick? Why didn’t he stop dancing then?
“I can’t stop,” he called out. “They won’t let me stop. Help me.”
This wasn’t right. What did he mean? His words had killed the fun, and I stopped dancing. At least, that’s what I wanted to do. Instead, my feet didn’t obey me. The music sped up, and I bounced and twirled faster.
The young man moaned and swayed, his feet tapping out a mad rhythm, faster than my eyes could follow.
“Stop,” I shouted. I danced to him and hugged him, thinking it might slow him down.
His arms wheeled, throwing me back. “It’s not me. It’s the music.”
His eyes were red and swollen, as if he had cried all his tears, and there were none left.
My heart rate was climbing, and sweat pooled under my arms. But his forehead was dry and his lips cracking. He swayed again and stumbled sideway.
The Fae clapped and laughed as if he was offering great entertainment. His feet were still moving up and down, but his head hung low. His face contorted in pain, he groaned.
“Stop. Help him. Why won’t you help him?”
I danced to the nearest spectator, grabbing his shirt. He brushed me off, his eyes cold and cruel as he laughed out loud.
“Dance, human. Dance for us,” somebody shouted, and the Fae took up the chant.
