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Dread fills my veins as I look at Mack. Her face is pinched, mirroring my growing worry.
Yells erupt as the Evermore students react to that bombshell. Most are, if not fond of their shadows, used to us and the many benefits we bring.
“What gives you the right to come here and make new rules?” a dark haired Unseelie quips. I recognize her as one of Inara’s friends.
Hellebore doesn’t even look at the girl as he says, “The laws of your academy, actually. Right, Headmistress Lepidonis?”
The Headmistress gives a pained nod. “The covenants say the ruling Evermore of the current season can make changes to the academy, as long as they do not go against the bylaws or unduly favor their court.”
My stomach clenches . . . then plummets as he returns his focus to me, his lips twitching cruelly at the corners. “Another thing. Shadows caught sleeping with the Evermore for favors will be branded a Fae whore and treated as such.”
My mouth goes paper dry. The options for a shadow after being labeled a Fae whore are cringy at best. Most end up on the front lines, used to entertain the Fae soldiers, or in the Winter King’s clubs after he buys out their contracts.
I don’t know which option is worse. Moreover, I can’t understand why the human world would even entertain letting creatures like the Fae reside in their cities when such travesties still happen.
I have to think most of the human world doesn’t know. They tried to erase my memories of this place when I was expelled, so they probably do that to most human Shadows that survive.
That explains why Nick and Sebastian never really worry about Mack. If they truly remembered all the awful things that transpired, they would have moved heaven and earth to buy off her Fae contract somehow.
The human world has no idea how cruel the Fae really are.
“That’s not a new rule,” a male Dusk Court Fae calls.
I blink, pulling myself out of my ragey thoughts to see the spring bastard’s stare still parked on me.
“No,” Prince Hellebore admits. “But up until now, it hasn’t been enforced.”
My forehead furrows as I scowl. Ugh. Why are you singling me out, jerkwad?
I clench and unclench my fists as the murmurs and stares grow. Mack tries to grab my hand, but I gently pull away.
I don’t want her tainted by association with me.
“Now that we’re clear on how shadows are to behave, let’s discuss the trials. At Whitehall, we ensure only the best shadows attend beside us by holding three gauntlets. These trials are meant not to simply cull the deserving from the undeserving, but to remind them of their place in Everwilde. They are beneath us. Slaves bound by magic to do our bidding and enhance all of Faerie.”
They. He’s talking about us like we’re not here. Like we’re non-entities.
I thought there was no one I could despise more than Inara.
I was so fricking wrong.
“Because of its mortality rate, the final gauntlet is required for fourth years only,” Hellebore adds, as if this somehow makes him a hero.
The Unseelie Evermore Courts look rather ambivalent about the whole speech. As long as their favorite form of entertainment—watching us die—is still in place, they don’t seem to care one way or another who’s in charge. The Seelie Courts glance around, shocked but not exactly disappointed.
Prince Hellebore is a Seelie Fae, after all.
“One last thing.” Prince Hellebore smiles. “Fail any of the gauntlets and you’ll be expelled from the academy and sent to fight the scourge.”
Well, crap.
In one sentence, this Spring Court jerkwad just jeopardized my entire future.
My hand flutters to my throat where a giant lump forms. Expelled? Sent to an almost certain death fighting the scourge?
That can never happen.
7
