Page 77 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

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Baby’s first date.

Am I still reeling from this morning? Completely.

Does Alexios care? No.

Not even a little bit.

Okay, that’s probably not true, actually. Given how today has gone, I’m opting to assume Alexios cares. A lot. So far, today began with a lavish breakfast, swept into a photo shoot that made me cry seven times—not that I counted—slipped into acrafts for newbornssession, trotted into a littlefamily movie lunchtime, broke for me to have anap, and now it’s opening up again fordate night.

“Be home by ten,” Castor says as he rocks Ash in his arms. My little baby’s face is twisted with dissent, but he must be getting used to Castor, because he’s not crying.

Alexios rolls his eyes. “Just for that, I’m opting to be back bytwo.”

I’d be opting tonot leave at allif Alexios hadn’t dropped a cinder block of choice keywords on me just before Castor showed up.

Keywords like:Faerieandnightlifeandfancy Faerie restaurant.

This being adatecan burn like Sodom and Gomorrah. This being an excuse to sightsee in Faerie? Now, that’s something I can get behind.

I want to see theestablishments. If the woodland path to Ollie and Brittny’s alone was incredible, I can’t wait to see fae shops, thepalace, street food. Take me on a date? Nah. Take me into a utopian society that doesn’t run on capitalism? Yes, please.

“Don’t do anything I might do!” Castor calls while Alexios ushers me out the door.

To that, Alexios throws Castor a finger he can’t even see, so it’s pretty stupid of him, honestly, and urges me down the driveway, toward the nearest trod into Cael’s kingdom.

As far as I’ve come to understand, faerie paths are scattered all over the place, with no specific rhyme or reason. Two paths directly beside each other could lead to vastly different locations on the other side.

While I’ve been told that Cael claims Mountain Vale, Virgina as his due to the number of trods within it that lead directly to key places in his lands, I also know that not every trod in Mountain Vale belongs to him.

For example, the one that spits us out in downtown Winterfeld—the nearest faerie community to Cael’s extravagant palace—rests poetically across the street from the one leading to Castor’s garden.

Asdowntown Faeriepresents itself in blistering glory, my mouth drops with such force, I don’t have the functioning brain cells necessary to protest Alexios’s hand closing around mine.

Two, tall colored crystals make up the walls of the alley we step from. Dusky purple sky stretches to a tree-lined horizon. In one direction, a town of scattered gorgeous buildings twists and turns and rises in an infinite collection of things to explore. In the other…a cherry blossom tree melded together with a palace reaches into the twilit clouds.

Awe ensnares me.

It ties around my throat and withholds every word I can think of.

“Let’s go over the etiquette guidelines,” Alexios’s voice interrupts my reverie, and I find his beautiful silhouette in the fantasy.

I pull my mouth shut. “There’s etiquette? Beyond the faerierules I already know?”

He flicks a patronizing look my way. “Don’t be silly, snowflake. Quite near every society has its own form of manners.”

Welp. Pardon me.

Alexios points out a faerie woman with tall antlers, a tail, and a glistening blue crystal around her neck. Head down, she’s fiddling with it, and everyone else on the street parts to give her space. “This might be hard for you, given your affliction, but don’t talk to people wearing those necklaces.”

“Given myaffliction?” Is that what we’re callinghumanitythese days? Because, um, rude.

Pitifully, he pulls the hand he’s holding up and pats it with his other. “The extroversion.”

I yank my hand out of his. “Xios.”

“Yes, angel?” He grins.

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