Page 41 of Chosen By the Fae King

Eventually, the giant knocked me off balance and I went to the ground. I took a quick inventory of my body. I had nothing more than a bruised bottom and dull ache in the shoulder he'd glanced.

Yay me!

The prince held out his hand. I put my palm in his and he pulled me to my feet. I rose on shaking legs.

“Look around,” he whispered.

You could hear a pin drop. Everyone in the yard was watching. Some glaring daggers, others looking shocked. Sofiya was smiling broadly.

“Not a fucking menace after all,” Lorne pronounced in a booming voice.

He then inclined his head in respect and I returned the gesture. Blushing, I allowed myself a moment to take it in.

Lorne yelled at everyone to get back to work then stepped into my personal space. “My sister said there was some confusion about what sect of fae you are.”

“Yes, sire.”

“And you've had no training whatsoever?”

I shook my head. “I have strength from caring for my land. That's all, other than dancing and running. Oh, I also climb trees.”

“Trees?”

“Comes in handy when hunting.”

Lorne grunted, then glanced around like he was checking on who was nearby. “You move faster and more fluidly than any of the sects in Falcondale. It's in your blood, Lady Aeryn. Think on that.”

Lorne went to attend to another area and left me stunned. When I reached twenty-five, I would know for certain, or at least have strong clues. I'd never agonized over it, accepting my role in Greenhollow.

I'd assumed my family had hailed from one of the sects of fae in Falcondale. I had very faint memories of my grandparents, but they rarely used any magic in front of me and I was too young to think on it.

My parents had been sickly, since my earliest memories, so they never pulled on their well-store. I was a child. It didn't matter to me and I never questioned it.

Rapidly I tried to run through what I knew of the other kingdoms.

Shit.

It might matter. It might matter a whole hell of a lot.

Aeryn Faulkner

Eight

Nox

“You still sure about this?” Lorne asked me.

“She can handle it.”

“But should she have to? One is already dead. Not that Dori was anything other than despicable, but it could have been someone else hit with that spell.”

I crossed my arms and slouched back, glaring at him across my desk. I didn't like his heedfulness toward some of the contestants.

I especially disliked his questioning of my decisions. “What's wrong with you?” I demanded.

“Nothing. What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

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