Page 26 of A Deal with the Shadow King

“A few months ago. I was curious to see what you looked like,” he admits softly.

My stomach flip flops, and even though I ought to be spooked or angry, the heat in my gut tells a different story. “You’re creepy. You know that, right?” I say in jest.

A small smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t lie. Given the chance, you would have done the same.” His masked stare bears into me for a second before he shimmers in a shadow so deep, I lose sight of him.

“Goodbye, then… Be safe, too,” I mumble to the empty space beside me, crestfallen to see him leave so quickly.

He’s out… Who were they talking about? What could have made that inhuman sound?

Tiny shadow needles prickle my spine as I make my way inside the castle, past the unsuspecting guards, and reach my bedroom door. The rattling sound of the locked doorknob sends a burst of adrenaline through my body.

Esme locked my bedroom. She probably expects me to report to her as soon as I return, but I inch open the hallway window instead. The narrow ledge that runs around the entire building is wide enough to hold my weight, so I boost myself up and climb outside. If I was wearing my usual corset and dress, I’d never manage to balance myself on the ledge all the way to my bedroom window, but the slick Faerie uniform and boots do not get entangled in the vines or weigh me down.

I glide quietly along the wall, inch open my bedroom window—I’d broken the lock last year and kept it a secret—and jump inside. I’ve always wondered what would happen if I slipped out at night, unnoticed, but I’ve never had the right clothes—or the confidence—to do it before.

Exhilaration washes through me, and my cheeks heat with pride. I can’t wait to see Cece’s and Esme’s expressions tomorrow when I surprise them at breakfast.

I ruffle through my dresser for a suitable nightgown and wipe the sweat from my armpits before pulling on my sleeping socks. The snug pieces of cotton are stretched tight over the new muscles in my legs.

The last two weeks, I’d tolerated the tight, long-sleeved tunic and washed myself with a hand towel after each run. Each night, I’d gone to bed with sore muscles but a newfound sense of freedom, and my slumber had remained undisturbed.

So different from my life here…

I expected to come back home full of shame and secrets, and while I’ve seen wild and unspeakable things, I’m not that…glad to be back.

Before I can dwell too much on why, I hide the book I brought with me inside the black clothes and cram them to the bottom of my hidden drawer. I slip under the covers, trying to recall the exact shape of the phantom I caught a glimpse of, earlier.

Whatever it was, One was desperate for me not to see it.

Chapter 11

No Place Like Home

The next day, I meet Cece and Father for lunch in the dining room. “Good morning,” I say with a cheerful wave. I had slept right through breakfast, coming home at such a late hour, and no one noticed I had returned, not even Esme. I guess they didn’t expect me just yet.

Father’s gaze snaps up from his plate and hovers at the edges of my body, not meeting mine. My heart sinks.

He’s afraid to look straight at me and find me changed.

Cece jumps out of her chair and runs to my arms. “Finally!”

“Cecelia,” Father scolds.

My little sister’s cheeks are flushed as she looks me over, oblivious to Father’s angry pout. “I was afraid you would never be healthy enough to travel to Lundan. It’s been weeks, I was worried!” Hands on her hips, she squints dangerously. “Why didn’t you write me? Were you really so sick that you couldn’t pick up a quill?”

“I’m sorry?” I search the room for help, but Father still avoids my inquisitive stare. Did they really pretend that I was sick and stuck at the summer house? How do they hope to get away with it when I disappear again?

Cece’s brows pull together, and she squeezes my upper arm through the puffy sleeves of my yellow dress. I shake my head, silently begging her to shut up.

She pinches my side, and I can tell from her angry pout that she knows she’s been lied to. “Meet me in my room after my riding lesson,” she whispers. “You better tell me where the crops you were, or else…” With that, she skips back to her seat and innocently butters up a piece of bread. “At least you can come to the ball with me.”

Father clears his throat, half choking on a mouthful of ale. “I’m not sure your sister feels up to a ball, Cecelia.”

I grip the skirts of my dress and squeeze onto my seat. “But I do, Father.”

In this familiar room, the memories of the Shadow Court fade a little. The elegant masks, the gigantic gym, the stretchy, snug fabrics… Did I really spend twelve days training in Faerie? My hands tremble as I pick up a small silver fork, but the rough callus on my index finger where the bow string chafed the skin assures me that it wasn’t all a dream.

The door to my bedroom closes behind Esme. The Fae’s gaze shines like she’s excited to see me. That’s a first.

---