Page 33 of Faking with the Fae King

It’s true. His little sides are already heaving, and he’s barely scratched the surface.

“It’s okay. She was talking to me, not you,” I say to him. “You’re doing great, but I’ve got to find somethingIcan do.”

His eyes narrow as if he can tell I’m stretching the truth to spare him. “Are you certain?”

“Yep. One hundred percent. This one’s on me, bud.”

He emerges and flops onto the grass, his little tongue dangling out the side of his mouth as he pants, and I know I made the right call. Winning isn’t worth him hurting himself.

“I’ve got an idea.” Naomi winks at me and blinks out of existence, popping back into view, holding…

“Are those walking stilts?” I blurt.

“Yep.” My friend sets their ends down on the ground.They’re the nice kind, made out of light aluminum poles that extend upward all the way to the armpits. They even have handholds in addition to the foot platforms.

“Man, we haven’t messed with these in years.” I grip the handle of one and give a little hop, checking my balance. We spent every evening of our seventeenth summer on these things after seeing a guy run around on stilts at the state fair.

“Yeah, but you were always good with them.” She grins at me.

“Thanks for thinking of these. You’re the best.”

“Sure am.” Naomi steps close so I can use her shoulder to help me get situated, then she continues to hold the left stilt as I take the handgrips. “You good?”

I reposition my foot and nod. “Yeah.”

She relaxes her hold, staying close to catch me.

My first step totters a bit, and I have to run forward for a few steps to regain my balance. Then I have it! My body swings back into the rhythm, and I turn toward the flowers.

“It’s now or never, Hannah,” I mutter, catching Severin looking at me, his mouth a little agape. Hah! Looks like our king hasn’t seen anyone do this!

With a grin, I move forward, a good two feet off the ground. The flowers glide by underneath me, and joy bubbles in my chest. I’m doing it! Even without my magic, I’m doing it! I might not win this trial, but completing it successfully will prove I’ve got what it takes.

I’ll win one of the next trials. I know I will. And at the end of the competition, Severin will name me the overall winner. I’ll fake marry him, and all of my dreams for Ferndale Falls will finally come true!

I run now, run toward him, run toward this bright future, carried by hope and happiness.

A grin stretches my cheeks, my heartbeat racing with excitement. I’m almost there, only a couple of feet left to go.

The left stilt jerks beneath me when I try to take my next step, refusing to budge. I try to correct, my heart leaping into my throat, but it’s too late. My body’s already leaning too far forward. A swirl of purple and pink and red rushes toward me as I face plant into the ground, barreling forward like a baseball player sliding for home base as I come to a stop right in front of Severin’s boots.

“Hannah!” Naomi and Finn yell as I lie stunned.

Strong hands hook under my shoulders and lift me. Severin’s eyes rove over my front as he pulls me to my feet.

Following his gaze, I look down…

“Oh, no.” Tears sting my eyes. “No, no, no.”

“Hannah, are you hurt?” Naomi slides to a stop at my side.

Finn runs up and sets his front paws on my thighs, staring up at me. “Speak, witch!”

Somehow, I’m not hurt—the flowers must have broken my fall. But my pride? My pride took a fatal wound. Can you die of embarrassment? Because I totally feel like that should be possible.

“Hannah?” Naomi asks again, her voice hesitant, as if my silence makes her even more worried.

I hold out my arms and wail, “I look like a Jackson Pollock painting!”

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