Fae Games

by Sofia Daniel

  Plastering on an even bigger smile, I turned to the audience and swept my arm to the side in a graceful arc. I was on stage now, and I might as well play the part. “Thank you for the warm welcome!”

  Silence.

  “My name is Unity Quayle, and I’m happy to be here among all you ladies and gentlemen!”

  More Silence.

  “I think we’ve all heard enough,” said the host from my side. He placed a hand on my shoulder, digging his fingers into my flesh. “Thank you, fifth candidate, please remain onstage, so the other ladies can join us for a final parade!”

  I stepped out of his tight grip. “What was that for? I didn’t get a chance to say why I’d be good for any of the courts.”

  “There are four princes, therefore four well-bred, fated mates,” he hissed. “Having a fifth is messing up my schedule.”

  “Why have a contest at all if fate already chose each prince a mate?” I snapped.

  He gaped at me as though I’d just unveiled the secrets of the universe.

  “And for your information,” I said with a sneer. “If anything ruined your little show, it was you broadcasting your erection with that ridiculous suit!”

  His mouth clicked shut, and his face twisted into a rictus of outrage. I placed my hands on my hips and struck a pose, just like that blond lady with the eyebrows did in a music video about Vogue Magazine.

  Lady Salix emerged on the right, the first to rise in a gown that looked like cherry blossoms. If this was an episode of America’s Top Model, Sicily would turn to me and say the outfit was a poor choice for her straight-up-and-down figure. Without the blazer bulking up her frame, she looked like she would snap at the barest pressure.

  Behind her walked Lady Gazania, who looked the best of all four Fated, and Lady Gala, still wearing her gray.

  On my left, Lady Aster trudged back on stage, clad in her school uniform. Instead of looking radiant, two sets of red handprints glowed on her face, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

  I turned around to find the Duke and Duchess of Westerling sitting primly in their seats and clenched my teeth. What a pair of bastards.

  “Beauties to the left of me, beauties to the right,” cried the host with his arms spread wide. “From all four courts, and all levels of our great fae society, ranging from the innocent to the wanton.”

  A few people around the tables snickered, and I plastered a neutral expression over my features. Under normal circumstances, that last comment would have been a barb at me when I’d sucked off Elijah in public, but at least back then, I had the excuse of being glamoured into thinking I was alone with a boyfriend.

  “This is your fault,” screeched Lady Aster.

  I swung left and pressed my hand on my chest. “Me?”

  Her eyes rolled in their sockets, and flecks of foam gathered in the corners of her mouth. “Your lasciviousness has infected the entire academy!”

  “Don’t blame me,” I snapped. “You were the one who flicked your clit in front of royalty and your parents.”

  Lady Aster shook, the redness on her slapped cheeks spreading to the rest of her face. “You’re a disgrace to all things fae.” Light streamed out of her balled fists. “A worthless child, a disappointment.”

  My brows drew together, and I stepped back. This sounded like something a parent would say. “Are you talking about yourself?”

  “Argh,” she screamed. “I hate you so much. You… you… you… you’re the dark widow spider, trapping everyone in your web of lust!”

  I staggered back. She had a point about the lust. When compared to a faerie who could only perform sexual acts a maximum of three times a decade, but I wasn’t going to agree with her, and I certainly wouldn’t let her hurl insults without hurling anything back.

  “Look.” I placed my hands on my hips. “Don’t blame me because—”

  “Bitch!” She hurled a ball of orange magic.

  I dropped to the floor, letting it fly overhead and explode into a cloud of fairy dust. Holding my breath, I crawled down from the stage and hurried toward the surrounding dining tables.

  When the dust cleared, only four people stood on the stage: Lady Aster, the host, Lady Gala, and Lady Salix. Everyone went silent.

  Walking forward, I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Where’s Lady Gazania?”

  Chatter filled the air, and the Duke and Duchess of Southane rose to their feet. I stood by the edge of the stage, looking for a mouse or a rat or something equally as unpleasant.

  Lady Gala stepped back, revealing a hand-sized spider, squashed and lying in a pool of ichor. “Whoops!”

  Chapter 12

  I staggered back from the edge of the stage, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst. That couldn’t be Lady Gazania, that grotesque spider, its spindly legs broken and curled around its enormous, rounded body?

  Nobody spoke. Not even the host. Everyone on stage stared at a point on the floor, close to Lady Gala’s foot. I inhaled huge gulps of air, not quite believing that a faerie had been so easily killed.

  Lady Gala pressed her lips together but couldn’t hide the traces of her smile in the roundness of her cheeks. Next to her, Lady Salix swayed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as though she would swoon. The host, whose blue suit had now turned as black as night, placed a steadying hand on her back.

  My gaze swung to Lady Aster, who gaped at Lady Gala’s foot, her mouth opening and closing in a series of panting breaths. Tears spilled from her eyes and dripped down her face and onto the floor.

  “What did you do?” screamed the Duchess of Southane from the stage’s second level. She scrambled out from her seat, picked up the skirts of her voluminous, magenta dress, and ran down a set of steps that led to the lower level. Her mate, a pale-skinned faerie with flame-colored hair looked on, still stupefied.

  Lady Gala stepped back and plastered her face with wide-eyed innocence. “Oh, no!”

  My eyes narrowed. That wasn’t how she talked moments ago. She’d sounded gleeful and borderline psychopathic.

  The duchess knelt on the ground and sobbed.

  “Arrest her,” growled the Duke of Southane, his body trembling with rage. “She killed my daughter.”

  The Duke of Nevermore stood. “Now, see here—”

  “Not that girl.” Lady Gazania’s father swung his finger at Lady Aster. “The one who cannot control her passions and turned my daughter into a spider.”

  Lady Aster turned to me. “This is all your fault,” she shrieked, sounding as shrill as a calling bird. “If you hadn’t ducked, poor Gazania would still be alive.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I folded my arms across my chest and shot her my hardest glare. “Take responsibility for your actions, you stupid cow! First, you and your friends stole Helen’s magic. Then you threw her into prison for making a truthful accusation. Between you and Lady Gala, a mutual friend is dead.”

  Lady Aster walked backward, shaking her head as though it would negate having thrown magic across the stage in full view of the school.

  My gaze flickered to her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Westerling. They sat stiffly in their seats, looking like none of the events were any of their concern. I gave my head a tiny shake. At least I knew where Lady Aster got her lousy attitude.

  The Duke of Medietas rose from his seat and walked across his level of the stage down the steps. Everyone paused for his reaction, seeing as he was the head of the king’s guard.

  “Fault lies with all three girls.” He smoothed down the front of his white uniform. “The one who threw the curse, the half-blood who ducked, and the one who trampled the victim to a certain death.”

  I reeled forward, huffing out the contents of my lungs. “What?”

  Less than a heartbeat later, a dozen white-clad soldiers appeared from out of nowhere on the stage. With a yelp, the host stumbled back a few steps until he hit the upper stage. Lady Salix placed a hand on her brow and crumpled to the ground, making sure not to faint anywhere nea
r the pool of spider ichor.

  Shit. This was getting serious. My gaze darted from left to right. I had to get out of there before the guards noticed that I had left the stage.

  I edged around the sides of the tables that faced the stage, keeping my steps quiet so as not to be noticed by Helen’s father, who stood with his arms folded, overlooking the arrests. I guessed this was an opportunity to punish two of the four girls who had violated his daughter’s magic and condemned her to Dubnos.

  A guard grabbed Lady Aster’s arm. She threw back her head and let out an ear-piercing scream as he slapped a metal manacle on her wrist. “Let go of me, you brute!”

  On the other side of the stage, Lady Gala held out her wrist for a guard, who wrapped it in a manacle. I gulped. She might be a lunatic, but at least she got arrested with a bit of class.

  As I edged out between two of the circular tables, rough hands grabbed my arms from behind.

  “Wait!” I struggled in my captor’s grip.

  “Stay still, halfling,” a guard hissed in my ear. “Or I’ll make it hurt.”

  He slipped a manacle around my neck, which crushed my windpipe. As I gasped for air, he yanked my wrists back and slapped on a pair of cuffs, which he clipped together, restraining my arms behind my back.

  “I’m going to enjoy helping you rot in the palace dungeons,” his voice was hot and heavy and made me flinch away. “It’s exactly where you belong.”

  My heart pounded, and I struggled for air as a memory surfaced from the recesses of my mind. One night, Elijah came to visit with a bunch of blue bananas he said were suitable for human consumption. He gave one to Sicily, who immediately fell asleep in front of the table, and led me to the bedroom.

  That evening, he said he wanted to try something fun, and I let him attach manacles like these around my wrists, but instead of the usual foreplay, he bent me over and fucked me doggy-style on the bed. It had been hard, brutal, and unlike anything he had done before. He remained silent throughout, filling my ears with those hot and heavy breaths. Afterward, he unclipped the manacles and left me without a word.

  A few days later, when he visited, we talked about the experience, and Elijah had seemed genuinely surprised that I hadn’t enjoyed it. Knowing about his sordid whoremonger business, I realize now that he’d only been surprised because his client probably hadn’t paid him extra for the use of manacles.

  The faerie pressed his hardness into my ass, and panic spiked through my chest like a spear. My throat opened up, letting out a scream.

  “Stop,” boomed a loud voice.

  The faerie drew back, allowing me to catch a few shallow breaths through my restricted airway. Everybody, including me, turned to the stage, where King Oberon rose from his throne.

  “These ladies are all fated to mate with my sons,” he said. “I will not have them manhandled unless the victim dies. Release them at once!”

  “Lucky for you,” whispered the faerie.

  The manacles around my neck and wrists vanished, and when I turned around, he was gone. Exhaling a shaky breath, I walked to the middle table, where Princes Caulden and Rory sat alone, looking bored with the unfurling of events.

  A knot of worry formed in my gut. If neither of them had come to my rescue, then something had to be wrong. I walked to the front of their table and placed both hands on its surface. “What’s happened?”

  Neither of them reacted to my presence, instead, continuing to stare at the stage. I waved an arm in their line of sight, but it had no effect. They weren’t in a stupor. Prince Caulden yawned, and Prince Rory blinked. It was almost as though they’d been the victim of multiple Jacks of Smiles.

  “Stay away from my brothers, halfling,” said a cold voice from behind.

  I turned around and met the hard, blue eyes of Prince August. He stared down at me with both hands on his hips in a display of masculine dominance.

  “Something’s wrong with them,” I said.

  His golden brows rose. “I’m surprised it took you this long to notice the sleepwalking draught.”

  I turned around to find the princes in the same position. “Why?”

  “They would have interfered when you lost and I had you thrown into the deepest dungeon with only drakes and fire sprites for company.”

  My lips pressed together in a hard line, and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t even muster enough fury to rage in his face. Prince August had to know that little stunt had made his brothers vulnerable, and his stupid fixation with me was becoming dangerous.

  “What if there was an assassination attempt?” I spat.

  He stuck his nose in the air. “The king’s guard protects us everywhere we go.”

  “They didn’t protect Lady Gazania,” I said. “And if the mate you value so much had aimed her magic another angle, neither one of your brothers would have been able to duck.”

  Prince August’s lips flattened with the kind of disgust people get when confronted with something awful, like a piece of shit at the end of a stick held under their nose. He didn’t reply, which was a sign that I was right, and he was wrong. But this time, I felt no triumph.

  We stared into each other’s eyes, locked in mutual hatred until I said, “If I had to blame anyone for Lady Gazania’s fate, it’s you.”

  He stepped back. “And how would you come to such a conclusion?”

  “The Emporium dress,” I replied. “You gave it to Lady Aster without warning her of its effects, and she went onstage and humiliated herself. Was that what you wanted?”

  “Of course not,” he said with a sniff.

  I stepped toward him, making sure to meet his stormy blue eyes. The truth was on my side, regardless of what Lady Aster or Helen’s father thought. “Did you ask the store what would happen when someone tried on a dress that had already molded to someone else?”

  Prince August glanced away.

  I prodded him in the chest. “You think you’re so superior because you have magic, and we don’t, but all I see is an overgrown child wielding a power he doesn’t deserve.”

  His nostrils flared, and the veins on his forehead bulged, but still, he said nothing. I wanted to leave him with a few pithy words, but that last experience with the anonymous guard had drained my last reserves of strength. If I continued to rant at Prince August, I might cry, and he would probably interpret my tears as his victory.

  I needed to leave. Fast.

  But before that, I had to free Princes Bradwell and Rory.

  “Where’s the antidote?” I held out my palm.

  “What?” he replied, apparently having recovered his arrogance.

  “For the sleepwalking elixir.”

  After snapping his fingers, Prince August turned around and walked toward the stage, where Lady Aster hugged herself and howled like a wolf puka on the full moon. Upon seeing Prince August, she ran down the stairs and stopped in front of him.

  Prince August stared down at her, while she cowered with her neck bowed and her shoulders hunched in a posture of defeat. He raised his chin, looking like he no longer wished to associate with Lady Aster after her humiliating, nearly-naked display.

  After a moment of listening to what I guessed were a bunch of groveling apologies, he turned and walked toward the door.

  I snatched my gaze away from the awful pair and faced the middle table, where my two princes stretched and yawned.

  Prince Rory blinked twice. “Unity, where did you come from?”

  “Where did you get that dress?” Prince Caulden’s gaze swept up and down my body. “You look ravishing.”

  Prince Rory tilted his head to the side and grinned. “I prefer it to the other one, but why are you wearing that out in public? You need to save it for tomorrow’s contest?”

  My lips curled into a tired smile. “The contest just ended, and you slept through it.”

  Prince Caulden shook his head. “It’s only been less than an hour since—”

  “What’s His Majesty doing up there?” Prince Rory gaped at
the upper level of the stage.

  “I told you, this is the day of the beauty contest,” I replied. “Someone slipped you a sleepwalking elixir and brought you down here.”

  “August.” Ice spread out across the table from under Prince Caulden’s hands. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Also, Lady Gazania might be dead.” I told them what had happened, starting from Lady Aster’s lustful display under the influence of the Emporium dress to Lady Gala stepping on a spider presumed to be Lady Gazania.

  They both stared at me with wide eyes, and when I told them about the awful king’s guardsman who had arrested me, they both shot out of their seats.

  Prince Rory walked around the table and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “I’ll track him down and make sure he never touches any female prisoner again.”

  My eyes fluttered closed, and I inhaled his earthy scent. Judging by that guard’s conduct, I did not doubt that he had acted in this way in the past toward a half-blood or a human girl. “Thank you.”

  Another pair of arms wrapped around me from behind, and Prince Caulden pulled me into his hard body. “I’ll watch out for any more attempts to stop us from protecting you, and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Prince Rory broke the hug and walked toward the Duke of Medietas, who stood onstage talking with the king. Queen Titania remained on her throne, staring down at me as though I had been the one to declare myself the future monarch of the Isle of Fae.

  I huffed out a breath and turned into Prince Caulden’s embrace. If by some miracle of fate, I became the queen, I would stamp out this system that deemed half-bloods less worthy of justice and respect.

  If I failed, it would mean that each court was ruled by a lady wicked enough to sacrifice the life of another to achieve her goals. As much as I despised Prince August, I couldn’t fail.

  Prince Caulden drew back. “Let me take you away from this place. Would you like to visit my suite?”

  Chapter 13

  By the time Healer Tarax and his pixies arrived to collect what was left of Lady Gazania, Prince Caulden scooped me up in his muscular arms and flew me out of the dining hall’s huge windows.