Page 25 of The Maleficent Faerie
Stupid, stupid. Don’t be an idiot, Aura. Stop acting like a fool.
Whenever I chastise myself, it’s always Genla’s voice, echoing through my mind. She means well—she has only ever tried to keep me sharp, alert, cautious, and careful. She cares about me, even when her words hurt.Pain is essential for excellence. Suspicion ensures safety.
But her lessons primarily focused on avoiding foolish choices. She never advised me on how to fix them once they were made.
I could stay in here until someone comes to fetch me; I’m sure they won’t leave me in here unattended much longer. But if I linger, the knights will know I’m hiding. And they will laugh.
The only scrap of cloth available to me is the thin curtain hanging across the doorway. It seems to be fastened into the very rock itself with large nails.
I reach up and tug on the fabric—lightly at first, then harder—and the fucking thing rips diagonally, leaving me holding a useless triangular piece of cloth, opening the communal bath to my view.
Hastily I duck out of the doorway and wrap the ragged cloth around my waist. But there isn’t enough of it to make a knot. I can cover my privates, my ass, or my chest, but not more than one area.
A bell rings somewhere outside the bath-house—a melodious triple chime. Probably some sort of warning that the service will begin soon. I’m running out of time.
“Regents’ daughter,” someone calls in a singsong voice. “Bathtime is over. Come on out, or we’ll have to fetch you.”
That wasn’t the Void King’s voice. Is he even in the bath-house at all?
I peek around the edge of the doorway. Five knights lounge in the room beyond, some in the bath and some beside it. I’m fairly sure the one who called to me was Vandel, the red-haired knight whose dick I threatened to bite off. He has a towel wrapped around his waist. Maybe my quip about his size struck a nerve and he’s out for revenge. Or maybe I shouldn’t have kicked Reehan in the face—he’s climbing out of the pool, stark naked, wearing a triumphant sneer.
“Don’t be shy, little Caennith whore.” His forked tongue flickers out between his lips. “Come here, or we’ll drag you out.”
The Void King is nowhere to be seen. He must have finished his bath quickly and left.
He’s my enemy—so why do I feel as if some measure of safety departed with him?
“You should leave her alone.” Andras speaks from the far end of the pool, where he’s reclining with his elbows propped on the edge. His skin has a bluish tint, all the more striking in this light. “The King won’t be pleased about how you’re treating his prisoner.”
“This isn’t just any prisoner,” retorts Vandel. “She has killed our people. Haven’t you, girl?”
“When they tried to kidnap or kill the princess—yes,” I reply stoutly.
“It’s your kind that’s bringing doom upon the realm,” Vandel says. “Fighting againstus—against the ones who are trying to save Midunnel.”
Reehan nods, taking another step toward me. “Your kind prefer to dance and sing and fuck, while the Edge eats up families and farms.”
“You claim to worship Eonnula,” says another knight, one with leathery wings and umber skin. “Yet you make choices that put everyone in danger, not just your own kingdom.”
An olive-skinned knight leaps from the bath, silver feathers flashing in the candlelight. “Where’s your sharp tongue now, oh great defender of the Princess?”
“Take her clothes and weapons away, and she’s nothing.” Vandel spits on the stone floor.
If I don’t go out there, they will come and get me. And I refuse to sidle shyly into that room, cringing and attempting to cover myself. If I must do this, I will do it like a warrior. Unashamed.
I crumple the piece of curtain in my hand and force myself to breathe more slowly.
One deep breath. Two. Three.
Then I let the cloth fall, and I step into the doorway, bare to them all.
Their eyes rove over my body, a grudging admiration mingling with the anger on their faces.
“Your people are not blameless, nor is your King,” I tell them. “Who demands a baby’s blood and then curses the infant when her parents refuse to yield their child to dark magic? Who would force a young human to give up a hundred years of her life? Your king dallies with the Void itself, pulling monsters from the very Edge that wants to devour us all. Why would he risk toying with such darkness?” I scan the group boldly, my chin up, shoulders back. “Some of my people say he fucks the Endlings. Maybe all of you do. Void-fuckers and Edge-worshippers.”
I shouldn’t antagonize them. It’s idiotic to taunt these powerful men, when I have no magic left and no weapons at my disposal. But my interactions with a certain type of warrior male have taught me to talk back with every ounce of boldness I possess. Fierce words and a strong right hook are the only things they respect.
My name-calling elicits a response from one of them, at least. The olive-skinned knight with the silver wings strides forward, fists clenched. Violence and pain swirl in his eyes.
