Page 27 of A Deal with the Shadow King

“I can’t believe you came back early! And here I was in the market shopping like any other day…” she wipes a hand across her forehead. “Let’s see if you have a suitable gown ready for the ball. I can still alter one if needed.”

My nose wrinkles in half-hearted denial. “I promised Cece to meet her in her room after her riding lesson.”

Esme gives the chaise lounge a vigorous pat. “Don’t be ridiculous. We have a lot to discuss.”

She starts unpacking my dresses from the deep trunk at the foot of the bed, shuffles through a few old gowns, and finally settles on a burgundy empire-waisted dress. “Here. We can make this work in time for the ball.”

I stand up at her instruction and slip on my usual corset.

The dark-haired Fae pulls on the laces and clicks her tongue. “It doesn’t fit as it should. You’ve gained weight.”

“I barely ate, like you said.” A fierce blush creeps to my cheeks at the falsehood. I ate more than I intended to. Running four times a day simply made me famished, and as far as I could tell, the food in Faerie wasn’t any different than the food here—a little tastier, perhaps, but not dangerous.

“Muscles, then.”

I can’t deny that, so I press my lips together. A few minutes later, a loud pounding on the door startles us both, and Cece’s voice booms into the small bedroom. “Let me in, Nell, or I swear?—”

Esme wrenches open the door, cutting her off. “Your sister barely made it home in time for the ball. I have many alterations to make on her dress, so shoo. You can berate her all you like later.”

Cece’s you owe me stare chills my blood. That girl will pry every single detail from me before the night is over. She’ll peel my skin off, if she has to.

I shoot Esme a dirty look after Cece leaves. “You told her I was sick?”

The slender Fae rubs her face down with one hand, her voice muffled. “Your father insisted. It was foolish of him, but you shouldn’t pout.” She flicks my forehead gently with her bony middle finger. “We have to tell your sister the truth. Not the whole truth, mind you, but enough for it to make sense when you disappear again. I leave that to you.”

I nod in agreement, relieved. Esme is often stuck in the middle, navigating the muddy waters of honoring my father’s wishes while raising two young teenage girls, a task she was by no means prepared to take on when my mother hired her to tutor us.

She sticks a few pins and needles close to my breasts. “I’ll work the bodice loose and lengthen the skirt. Don’t move.” She peels the gown off me. “So…” Her gaze briefly darts up to mine. “What happened with the Shadow King?”

“I’m…not sure.”

Deep lines appear on her forehead, and she holds the pin she’d just tucked between her teeth away from her mouth. “Didn’t he try to seduce you?”

My top lip curls in a thank-the-mother-he-didn’t pout. “Not at all.”

She crouches to work on the skirt, her movements a little more impatient than usual. “Start at the beginning. What happened?”

“There’s not much to tell.”

I try to recall the Shadow King, but all of the sudden, my memory of him is foggy, and the instinct to keep his court’s secrets is almost undeniable. Esme taught me so much. I should tell her about the banquet.

Yet, my recollection of the events becomes fragmented like I’m trying to recall a dream I had a few nights ago. I know what happened in Faerie wasn’t what we both expected to happen, and it unnerves me.

Esme observes me for a moment, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “I won’t hold the truth against you, Penny. I swear it. Despite his faults, the Shadow King is handsome and charming…”

I want to say that he didn’t really have any interest in me, but her quiet tone gives me pause. “You taught me to fear him.”

“As you should.” She climbs to her feet to pin the back of the dress, her rehearsed movements slower and softer than before. “Your father insists for you to remain steadfast to Demeter’s customs… He doesn’t understand how different Faerie truly is. By now, you must have seen and heard things that would be unthinkable here. I’m just saying that it’s okay if you’re not appalled by everything you saw. If you thought the king was…desirable. It would be our secret.”

Esme seldom speaks so openly, and I twist around to face her. “You told me he was a vicious monster.”

“I know my place, Miss Penny. Your father wouldn’t have allowed me to raise you any other way, and I’m sorry that I had to keep you in the dark about some aspects of Faerie. Damian is a monster, but a charismatic one.”

My pulse flutters at the mention of the king’s name. Esme pulls the dress back over my head and starts working on the alterations. Esme is the best seamstress I’ve ever known. From the way she works the needle and thread, you’d think she had magic after all.

I sit on my hands at the edge of the chaise lounge and mull over everything she said.

After a while, she whispers. “Your mother… She kissed him, you know.”

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