Page 34 of Faking with the Fae King

Instead of white, my Faerie silk dress is every flower-color imaginable, covered in overlapping blotches ofpink, orange, yellow, red, purple, and blue. It would be pretty if it weren’t so completely the opposite of what it needs to be. Now, I’m not simply the contestant who didn’t pass, I’m the one who failed miserably.

I was close,soclose, to having everything I ever wanted, and it all got snatched away by a single misstep.

Severin still hasn’t said a word, his expression hard, his body vibrating with barely contained fury.

Shit. My heart leaps into my throat, and I swallow. I’ve got bigger problems than this one trial.

Severin must know I didn’t tell him the truth about my magic.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Severin

How dare she?

My hands ball into fists, my shadows lifting from my writhing tattoos, ready to snap out and punish.

I turn my furious gaze upon Meloria, who stands completely unrepentant. She cheated and sent her shadows sneaking out into the flowers to trip Hannah before I could stop her.

Yet I only know this because I, too, ignored the rules and sent my shadows sliding through the flower field. I kept them low to the ground, hidden by all the blooms and leaves. As soon as I realized Hannah must lack the kind of magic that would let her cross, I vowed to help her. Only I didn’t need to. Hannah did fine on her own, using her innate balance and grace.

Then Meloria struck, and all I could do was cushionHannah’s fall, my shadows catching her right before she hit the ground.

Goddess. I can’t say a word about Meloria’s perfidy without exposing my own. If the representatives discover I’m willing to bend the rules to aid Hannah, they’ll keep me from helping her during the next trials. My teeth grind as I bare my fangs.

The bridal crystal lets out a loud chime, and a scroll appears before Varyn, who snaps it out of the air and unfurls it to declare, “The winner of the trial of grace is…”

He pauses, drawing out the anticipation until I want to throttle him.

“Elowen! Elowen is our winner!”

Meloria scowls and mutters, to no effect.

The bridal crystal is ancient and incorruptible magic. Not even I can sway it. Besides, it chose true, for the nymph’s magicked flight was the epitome of grace.

Another chime, and my garden slides back into its original configuration as if the trial never occurred. The magic wraps each contestant in a whirl of brightness before fading to show them in their original clothes.

“At least I no longer look like a tie-dye experiment gone horribly wrong,” Hannah says as she crouches down to pet her familiar.

Finn yips and spins in a circle, making her laugh, her hand flying up to her head, feeling all the flower petals stuck in her hair. She leans over him, letting her long, fine locks stream toward the ground, and gives a good shake, showering him with petals.

“He’s very sweet, your fox.” Elowen bendsover, stretching out a long, graceful arm.

He lets her scratch his head, yipping all the while.

“He says to tell you his name is Finn and that he’s not my fox—I’m his witch.”

Elowen laughs, the happy rustle of leaves in a playful breeze. Ruby and Naomi join in, cooing over the animal, and the women introduce themselves to each other. It’s fascinating, the way Hannah asks about each of the fae, getting them talking and setting them at ease. This must be part of why she’s mayor, but it’s very different from everything I know of being a leader. She connects to people via kindness instead of imposing her will on them via power. Perhaps marrying her will aid in improving my reputation more than I ever expected.

But to do that, I need her to win this competition.

“Hannah, I must speak with you.”

Both Hannah and Meloria look at me, the former looking miserable, the latter grinning, both assuming I’ll cast Hannah aside. Everyone else in the garden watches closely as well.

I need to make a show of support, convince everyone our fake engagement is real.

“I’m so glad you’re all right.” Gripping Hannah’s shoulders, I pull her close, as if overcome with concern. I’ve got no chance to warn her I’m going to kiss her—the other fae would detect a sound-cloaking spell and know something isn’t right. Will she be able to fake some enthusiasm for a kiss? Goddess, I hope so.

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