Page 38 of A Court of Sugar and Spice
“You can’t take back what never existed.”
“Mygod, you’re maddening,” I gasp. “How much time have you spent in the human realm? You pretend you know everything about humans, but I’m convinced most of what youthinkyou know is hearsay and prejudice!”
He flushes faintly. “I—I’ve read books about humans. And some of them live in this realm. They’re usually cursed humans, or slaves to the Unseelie, or temporary guests, or visiting conjurers, but—”
“So you know very little about average humans living normal lives.”
“Hypocrite,” he says scathingly. “You know even less about my kind. Beyond the pain iron causes us, and the fact that we’re long-lived and have magic, what more do you know? You asked me if I could lie, for stars’ sake. OfcourseI can lie. The idea of Faeries not being able to lie is a foul deception of the Unseelie, a way to convince humans they’re in no danger right before they’re dragged into some hideous Unseelie bower for pleasure sport.”
“You admit that Faeries kidnap humans and ravage them, then?”
“The Unseelie,” he says, slowly and distinctly, as if he’s talking to a small child. “The Unseelie have no morals, and they do such things.”
“Yet your cousin has Unseelie friends. Apparently not all of them are as horrible as you would have me believe.”
“Think of the rats we fought yesterday, and judge for yourself!” he exclaims.
“What if I brought you a rapist and murderer from some dungeon, and told you to judge all humans by his deeds?” I’m nearly shouting at him now. “You can’t take the actions of one and infer the wickedness or unworthiness of all!”
Finias whizzes out of the trees and comes to a sudden stop in front of us. He’s carrying a basket he certainly didn’t have before.
He cocks his head. “You two were traveling pleasantly when I left. What happened?”
Lir and I begin talking loudly, gesturing at each other while Finias recoils.
“All right, all right! Maybe this will settle your spirits.” He lifts the checkered cloth over the basket, and a puff of sugar-and-cinnamon air wafts from the interior. “Hot cinnamon buns, glazed in Mother Tollison’s best icing.”
“We just ate breakfast,” says the Prince.
“Your point?” Finias plucks a fat bun from the basket and sinks all his sharp teeth into it. His eyes roll back. “If these don’t make you forget your quarrel, you may strip me naked and hang me upside down from the tallest tree in the forest.”
“No one is stripping you naked,” grumbles Lir, but as he stalks past his cousin, he snatches a roll.
I take one as well. “Thank you. I do hope a few simple words of thanks issufficientin this realm.” I shoot a pointed glance at Lir’s back. “After all, I do remember someone barely being able to force the words ‘thank you’ out of his mouth the other day.”
“My thanks comes easily when it is deserved,” snaps the Prince.
“Who threw the bombs that saved your hide?” I exclaim. “You called me a hapless human girl last night, but who protected you from the iron shrapnel? Who kept a rat soldier off your back? Who gave you blood from her own vein so you could function better? Who—”
“Enough!” he bellows, whirling around. “Thank you, oh most gracious and most demanding of human women. Thank you for defending me, and thank you for allowing me to saveyourlife as well. I will be forever indebted to you for that dubious honor. If I hadn’t kept you quiet, the mole-rat would have gotten you and I wouldn’t have the delight of this stimulating verbal conflict, this insufferable poisoning of an otherwise pleasant morning. So yes, Lady Louisa—thank you.” He ends with a flourishing, extravagant bow.
I stare at him, my mouth full of shockingly delicious cinnamon bun.
“Sothat’show a proper thank-you is done,” I say through the mouthful. “I always wondered.”
The Prince stares at me, breathing hard. And then—something in his expression cracks, and one side of his mouth quirks upward. He tries to force the expression away but he can’t—he’s grinning, and he’s—goddamn, he’s beautiful. His teeth aren’t all sharp like his cousin’s, but he has a pair of wicked-looking canines above and below.
The smile only lasts for a second before he manages to get himself under control and continues down the path. Fin elbows me approvingly and then begins to explain Fae speed, how far and fast they can go, how much magical energy is consumed in the process, and how different species of Fae have various speeds and distances of which they’re capable.
I’m not sure how much time is passing, or if days in the Fae realm are even the same length as ours; but at last Finias tells me, “We’re nearly to the tavern. I sent off messages last night while you were bathing and Clara was napping, so if we’re lucky, several potential allies will be there. Lir, I’ll conjure you a hooded cloak, since we can’t have every patron in the place knowing your identity. Don’t tell them the exact nature of the curse, either.”
“Why not?” Lir frowns. “These friends of yours—can we not trust them?”
“I never said they were friends. Said they were potential allies—for a price. There’s a scarcity of folk loyal to your throne in these parts, cousin. Besides which, few dare to travel through the most heavily occupied territory of the Rat King—which is where we’ll need to go to reach the Unending Pool.”
My nerves have been strained all morning, my gaze darting into the depths of the wood as we walked, searching for signs of hulking bodies or rat tails. I don’t know whether chance or some magic of Fin’s has kept foul things from accosting us today, but the thought of venturing through an area more thickly infested with the Rat King’s soldiers makes me quake inside. Clara and I might not survive such a journey. We might only serve to slow the others down, or endanger them when they’re forced to defend us.
But we have to go along. Lir will need blood every so often to keep the effects of his curse at bay.
