Page 100 of A Fae in Finance
“Kind of,” I said. “But I still don’t fully understand all of the Courts. How do they relate?”Tell me about the human torture, I thought.Am I going to get tortured?
“Hmm.” He tapped a hand on the pommel of his own saddle. I watched his nails spark, more like polished glass than keratin. “The Princeling is, ah, like a governor.”
“What?” I sputtered. “This much ceremony for agovernor?”
“An important governor,” he added, sounding almost defensive. “Like, the governor of California.”
I actually laughed aloud at that.
He looked at me, startled.
“So the Queen governs faeries who want to torture humans?” I asked, because I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Sahir bit his lip, a white flash against the warm brown of his skin. “The Queen governs faeries who do not want to engage with humans but will not hesitate to kill them. Faeries do not—well, we used to torture humans. Our grandparents did.”
“Until what, they all died?” I asked sarcastically.
He frowned at me. “Yes. That generation is fading. The last of them will disappear soon.”
“I thought faeries were functionally immortal,” I said—though I remembered Milo telling me otherwise, all those months ago, I’d never confirmed it with anyone else.
“To a gnat, you live for eons, and hunt its children and its children’s children for sport.” He shifted forward on his horse, looking for something up the trail.
“So I’m a gnat.”
He must have heard some threat in my voice, because he answered quickly. “Perhaps a dog is more apt. A dog’s great-grandson might witness the death of its master, and the lore of the master’s birth could conceivably pass through four generations.”
This answer wasn’t much better, but I refrained from further comment on his choice of metaphor.
“But Aram is older than you? He said he remembered…”
Sahir sighed. I wondered if I’d hit a sore subject. “Rijska loves him, and he is very wise. But they both know she will have centuries without him.”
We rode in silence for several minutes. Perhaps he was contemplating his brother-in-law’s death and his sister’s loneliness.
“So the Princeling inherited the role when his father died…” I prompted.
“No,” Sahir said. “We elected him. We elect a new leader every…” He paused, thought. “I suppose every twenty-five human years.”
In the distance, the lights of the Court shone out against the black of the hillside.
“Why is your elected leader called a Princeling?”
“Do you have no stupid traditions in your democracy?”
I chuckled at that, though I also felt a twinge of disappointment. In a book, there would’ve been a fantastic and history-rich explanation. “I guess we do,” I said.
Sahir frowned at me. “I will see that we speak with Roman,” he said. “It is my duty as your knight, and my honor as your friend.”
“We don’t need to,” I said. “We can wait until I fulfill my bargain with the Princeling.”
The look Sahir gave me physically hurt. “Do you think you can wait that long? It has only been three months, Miriam. Can you do this thirty-nine more times?”
I clutched at my stomach. “No,” I whispered, weak and ashamed. “Probably not.”
Sahir didn’t push me any further.
We ascended the path to the Court’s entrance and stopped the horses. I patted Sparkles on the neck while Sahir got down from his horse.
