Page 9 of Royal Captive
Two could play that game.
I pinched my lips together tightly. “I’ll only eat as much as you eat,” I fired back.
The fae snorted at both of us, taking in our aggressive stances. “Ah, we rarely get mated pairs.” He scrutinized Ellis a little harder, frowning. “I didn’t see any notes about half-breeds. You’ll have to come with me when I sort the rest of them out.”
Ellis glared at him, a sneer curling his lips back. “I don’t go anywhere she doesn’t go.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling filled my chest, and for a glorious moment I forgot I was angry at him, and that he’d colluded with Viana to get us kidnapped and taken to this realm.
“Do not fear. We will not run out of food. We will simply bring more,” the brown-haired fae said, misreading Ellis’s anger.
To get away from my confused feelings, I stepped toward the tent. As soon as the scents of meat and spices hit my nose, my stomach rumbled loudly. OK, perhaps I was hungrier than I let on.
The sugared glaze, the juices that leaked from the meat … everything looked impeccable. It was all gone before I got to it. The humans were ravenous and greedy for their first hot meal in who knew how long?
In moments the tables we swarmed, with people grabbing food until the only bits of food left were a few desiccated bits of bones, and a thin slice left of ham. I looked around for a plate or platter and found nothing.
“Heads up!” called the fae, and we all looked up to see a team of human workers bringingmorefood out from the manor.
I waited with ill patience as they set another ham down on the table, and then I grabbed a huge slice of ham for Ellis and walked it over to him. Pissed at him or not, his health was in worse shape than mine, technically.
“Eat it.”
I stuck the meat in his face, waving it under his nose. Shooting an embarrassed look at the fae (Rolf) who watched us curiously, Ellis snatched it and took a bite, eyes widening a bitwhen he tasted how good it was. I gave him a self-satisfied smirk and watched him devour the rest.
“Mates for sure,” the fae commented. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we will figure something out. Go. Eat.”
I grabbed Ellis’s elbow and marched him forward, determined to enjoy myself and take advantage of whatever hospitality was given.
The others had used their dresses or tunics to scoop up as much food as they could, and spread themselves out along the thick lawn to enjoy and soak up the odd sun. Down the tables of food, I saw I’d completely missed the drinks and desserts, a smile stretching my face. When was the last time I’d had a cake?
“You need—”
“If you try to tell me what I can and can’t eat,” I started tersely, “I’m going to feed you a knuckle sandwich.” I held up my fist to show Ellis how serious I was.
He snorted and gave my bum a soft smack. My jaw dropped as I whipped around at his playful antics, but he’d already moved on to grabbing more ham and some of the new chicken that was just brought out. They’d stuffed it with walnuts and watercress.
I snapped my mouth shut, too pleased with the turnaround in his attitude to complain anymore. If I closed my eyes, I could almost ignore the odd-colored grass and sky, and pretend we were a normal courting couple at a picnic.
No. It wasn’t meant to be.
Accepting my fate, I approached the dessert table and grabbed a croissant, as well as a piece of flaky bread drizzled with honey. I spied Anne, who sat dully in the blue-green grass, rubbing her stomach.
“Eat too much?” I asked casually, wandering over toward her.
Her brow furrowed. “I’ve just remembered something my father used to say. I was so hungry I’d forgotten about it.” Honest distress twisted her face.
“What was it?” I asked, curious.
She swallowed heavily, pushing the rest of the food from her lap onto the ground. “He said never to eat from the fae … He used to say that if we ever found ourselves offered food, that taking it would mean we’d never go home again.”
My heart sank. Hadn’t my nanny always said something similar growing up? I shook off my childhood fears and tried to think about it logically. We were stuck here now; eating the food or not, it was unlikely any of us would go back. Perhaps the food was simply coincidental.
Looking down at the tears on Anne’s face, I didn’t have the heart to say any of that. “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said instead, keeping any dark thoughts to myself. “Just stupid fairy tales to frighten children into eating their vegetables.”
Anne glanced away, and I eyed my croissant suspiciously.
Ellis came down and sat next to me, and eventually Anne got up and wandered off, back toward the food table. If you were going to break a lifelong superstition, might as well do it properly.
