The next morning, Zoey woke feeling energized. She didn’t have any friends, but she had one fewer enemy, and that was something to be happy about. She dressed in tight black, faux-leather pants, an orange shirt that had a band around her neck and showed some cleavage, black boots, and wore her hair loose. She looked and felt stylish as she observed herself in the mirror.
Before she left her room, she put on a scarf, hat, and gloves. Once outside, she noticed that most Fata had gathered at the outskirts of the garden by the iced archway. If the castle had a wall around it, that was where the gate would be. Who were they were waiting for? Several faeries were approaching in the distance.
In the lead was a piatek, a wingless griffin. He had a lion’s body, golden eyes, and an eagle’s head. His paws were bigger than Zoey’s face and appeared out of proportion with his body. On his back was a faerie male who could only be Prince Dagan Greenfield.
The piatek stopped in the archway, and Dagan slid off his back to greet Caynin and Rane. Tarragon bobbed his head politely in greeting.
Zoey observed the Evergreen prince from a distance. Like most Fata, he was tall and lean. He had wavy black hair with a dark green sheen. She had never seen hair like that before and figured it would make even the most prestigious hairdressers jealous. He had thin lips, cheekbones sharp enough to cut fingers, and emerald-green eyes.
He was undeniably gorgeous.
As the Fata and their piateks from the Evergreen Kingdom were invited into the castle, Zoey felt awkward and out of place. The queen, Tarragon, Rane, and Caynin stood together, talking with another Fata male. He had arrived with Prince Dagan, but Zoey did not know who he was.
“That’s Flint Infante – Prince Dagan’s Waerie,” Kismet said from behind Zoey.
Zoey had not realized she was there and turned slightly so she could keep the female in view. Without Delia at her side, Kismet looked out of place, too. There was something different about the way she looked at Zoey, something softer, kinder.
The royals and their Waeries started walking, and Zoey didn’t plan on joining them because she didn’t have any place there.
“You are welcome to have breakfast with me,” Kismet said.
“What?” Zoey gaped.
Before she could give an answer, Caynin parted from the group and strode over to her. “I’m going to have to deprive you of Zoey’s company,” Caynin told Kismet. “She’s going to have breakfast with us.”
“Of course, my prince.” Kismet bowed and walked away.
“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Zoey whispered, although the Fata could certainly hear her.
“It’s a wonderful idea,” Prince Dagan said as he drew closer, his piatek on his heels. He extended his hand, and Zoey hesitantly let him kiss it. “You must be the lovely Zoey.”
Zoey instantly liked him because he treated her like she was a person with feelings and needs. He spoke kindly and looked into her eyes when he talked. Would he have treated her with such respect if she wasn’t here under Caynin’s protection?
“You know who I am?” Zoey slowly pulled away her hand. Most Fata did not know who she was, and she did not matter to them. Yet, the prince of the Evergreen Kingdom looked at her with a smile and cat-like curiosity. He was certainly charming.
“Of course,” he said. “Word about a human who can’t be compelled travels fast.” He looked at Caynin. “I can’t help but wonder if you knew she could resist compulsion when you gave her the first trial.”
Of course, Caynin knew Zoey couldn’t be compelled, and that was why he had chosen the first trial so that she could win.
“Worry about the trial you are choosing instead,” Caynin responded coolly.
“You’re choosing the second trial?” Zoey asked Prince Dagan.
“Yes. Did you really think Caynin could have all the fun?”
It did make sense if more than one Fata were to create a trial. She and Caynin were close, and he could possibly help her cheat by telling her what the next trial was or give her tips on how to pass it.
Knowing Caynin was not going to choose her second trial also made her uneasy. She had got to know him and had a good idea what he was capable of. Dagan was unfamiliar, and she didn’t know what to expect from him.
“Do you kiss the hands of all the humans you intend to kill with these trials or am I the lucky one?” she asked Dagan, trying to get a better feel for him.
He was not her friend, and if she passed his trial, it meant he had failed to prove that humans weren’t good enough to be treated as equals. She was not going to let his charming smile fool her into trusting him.
“I only kiss the hands of the beautiful ones,” he said.
This caught her by surprise, and despite feeling flattered, she told herself he was lying. She lived among the Fata – the most beautiful creatures on the planet. Her beauty was nothing compared to theirs.
Dagan smiled when she did not respond. “You don’t trust easily. Maybe you were meant to live here after all.”
Caynin took her arm, reminding her that he was there, and she looked at him abruptly. Dagan was intoxicating. Speaking to him was like falling into a fairy tale and getting lost in the pages.
She turned her back on Dagan – something she would not have done if Caynin had not been by her side. They headed through the gardens, passed the ice sculptures, and reached the dining room. The chair at the head of the table was vacant, to its right were Rane and Flint, and to its left were the queen and Tarragon. Caynin subtly squeezed her arm, and she knew he could hear her pulse racing. He sat down at the head of the table, and Dagan sat next to Rane. Zoey could choose if she wanted to sit next to Tarragon or Dagan. It was an easy choice to take the seat next to Dagan.
Caynin was only three seats away, but she felt as if he was miles distant. If Tarragon attacked her, like he had in her dreams, would Caynin be fast enough to stop him from where he sat?
“Did you travel swiftly, Prince Dagan?” the queen asked.
She did not speak often, thus when she did, her words carried more weight. When she spoke, no one dared to interrupt her or speak over her. Zoey listened to her attentively, even if she wasn’t saying anything of interest. She had the most powerful position in the Eternity Kingdoms, and that demanded respect. Zoey swore that one day she would also earn such respect.
“Very swiftly,” Prince Dagan responded. “Using the Globetrot-tree as a means of transportation has proven to be immensely useful.”
“The Globetrot-tree?” Zoey blurted out, causing everyone to look at her. Her palms felt sweaty, and she wished she had been quiet.
Instead of belittling her, like most Fata would, Dagan said. “The Globetrot-tree is made out of different Fata magic. It can be used to draw energy from”—Caynin had told her that, too—“or to teleport us. This comes in useful when we need to travel quickly from kingdom to kingdom.”
“How come the tree isn’t on the castle grounds then?” Zoey wondered. When she had touched the tree, she still had to walk far to get to the castle.
“If the trees were in the castle, and an enemy were to use it, they would appear right here,” he said. “Which gives us a big disadvantage.”
“That way we won’t be prepared, and they’ll be attacking us from the inside,” Caynin elaborated further.
“But what enemies do you have?” Besides the Prenumbras.
She was not surprised when Tarragon answered her. “Sometimes we are each other’s worst enemies.”
His dark eyes darted to Prince Dagan as he spoke, recalling the conflict between them. Was the only reason they weren’t fighting because they were in the queen’s presence? Who would win during one-on-one combat? Tarragon was strong and violent, and Zoey was not sure what characteristics Dagan possessed other than his charm. She wasn’t going to let him fool her into thinking he was harmless.
“I almost forgot,” Flint spoke unexpectedly. “I brought you a present, Rane.”
“Oh yeah?”
Flint had a knife wrapped in soft cloth and tied with strings strapped to his belt. Rane moved his plate so that Flint could place it on the table in front of him, before eagerly untying it. It was a dagger, as long as Zoey’s forearm, with a black hilt decorated with painted-on black flower petals. Rane touched the long, sleek, and deadly blade.
“It’s magnificent!” Rane exclaimed. “Thank you. What did I do to deserve this gift?”
“It’s about time I gave you something to show my appreciation,” Flint said. “It was, after all, you who taught me how to be a good Waerie. You taught me so many fighting skills.”
“Maybe you can teach the mortal a few fighting skills,” Tarragon said. “Caynin has been kicking her ass during training.”
“I’d kick your ass, too. Just say when,” Caynin challenged before Zoey could respond. He had her back, and Zoey felt a familiar warmth in her heart.
“After breakfast,” Tarragon responded.
“That sounds like a brilliant idea,” Dagan said. “Why don’t we all go to the fighting ring together?”
Everyone nodded in agreement, and Zoey hoped she was not expected to fight. She did not stand a chance against any of them. Caynin would not hurt her, but what if one of the others hurt her during a duel and said it was an accident? Her face, or heartbeat, must have betrayed her fear because Caynin gave her a comforting look.
It will be okay, those blue eyes seem to say. I’ll always protect you.
Zoey looked down with a smile because she knew it was true. The queen excused herself, momentarily distracting Zoey from the connection she and Caynin shared. It was not long before they left the table, talking. Zoey wanted to walk next to Caynin, who was speaking to Tarragon, but before she could go to him, she felt a hand on her arm and faced Dagan.
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” she said.
He looked into her eyes and smiled. “You’re lying.”
She pulled her arm free. “No one is going to kill me before my second trial.”
“So confident,” he teased, “but maybe you need something for good luck.”
A human servant in the gardens was holding a wooden chest. She stood there, like a mannequin, until Dagan told her to approach. Zoey tried not to flinch or curse at Dagan for compelling her. She was in the Fata world and had to play by their rules.
Dagan opened the chest to reveal rows and rows of jewels, including necklaces, watches, bracelets, earrings, and rings. She assumed they were worth a lot and kept her fingers away from the chest. It did not take long for Dagan to find what he was looking for – a silver chain with an emerald hanging from it.
“May I?” he asked.
She gave a slight nod, waited for him to move around her, and ignored the uneasy feeling in her heart. He moved her hair out of the way and brushed his fingers against her neck in the process. Dagan tied the chain around her neck then stepped back. She turned around and touched the jewel with one hand, only relaxing her shoulders when she could look at his face.
“Beautiful,” Dagan said, and she was not sure if he was referring to her or the necklace.
She did not understand why he would give her a gift either, but she suspected he had not done so out of the goodness of his heart. She couldn’t trust him to give her something out of the kindness, he wasn’t Caynin. The emerald was cold against her skin, made her feel like a dog wearing a collar, and she resisted the urge to rip it off. She didn’t want to be disrespectful or impolite, especially when Dagan had only been friendly from the start.
“May it bring you luck in your future battles,” he said.
Zoey didn’t believe in luck. One’s choices and actions were the cause of what happened to a person. But maybe something like a spell existed to make a necklace lucky.
“Is it enchanted?”
“Very much so,” he said mischievously.
Zoey wanted to ask more, but Caynin interrupted, his eyes on the necklace. “Are you two coming?”
His eyes lingered on the emerald. Was he jealous? As childish as it was, she liked the idea of him being jealous over her because it told her that he reciprocated her feelings.
“Yes,” Dagan said, and they started walking.
Caynin fell into step besides Zoey, and she sensed his discomfort. He clenched his jaw, making the muscle jump, and his shoulders were tense. Fata were territorial, but still, he was overreacting – which was expected from Caynin. She wanted to reassure him that everything was okay, and he shouldn’t worry because it was not like she was going to fall in love with Dagan. But, Caynin had never been romantic or affectionate toward her in front of the Fata, so she kept her mouth shut.
Rane and Flint walked ahead of the group, while Dagan, Caynin, and Zoey took the rear. Tarragon was in the middle, alone, and Zoey realized he was the odd one out. He was not a Waerie anymore – like Rane and Flint. He was also not a prince – like Caynin and Dagan. Usually, Zoey was the odd one out, but Dagan made her feel like she was part of the group by taking interest in her.
Zoey could feel the tension in the air as they walked. Fata were competitive, and she knew they were going to fight to win. It was not just a battle of swords and skills; it was a battle of masculinity and dominance. It could get ugly. They collected weapons at the armory and headed to the arena. Zoey tried to ignore her stiff fingers. Her nose was runny in the cold, and she sniffed, which made Tarragon glance her way. She felt embarrassed over something so small and normal, because sniffing was gross and none of the Fata ever had to do it since the cold didn’t affect them.
“Who’s first?” Tarragon asked keenly.
“I was hoping Rane could test out his new dagger,” Flint said with enthusiasm.
Dagan stepped forward, and Zoey thought he was going to volunteer to fight. But he said, “Let Zoey fight! Since she has been training.”
Zoey suddenly had the urge to slap Dagan’s pretty face. All this time he had been nice to her, and now he was throwing her to the wolves. She silently hoped Caynin, who was tense next to her, would object, but he didn’t. She swallowed hard and tried to calm the frantic beating of her mortal heart. She had just been challenged to fight a Fata! A Waerie. Of course, she could not win.
“I’d rather not,” Zoey mumbled. The moment she said the words, she realized they were a big mistake because backing down was seen as weakness in faerie eyes.
“I thought so,” Tarragon sounded way too happy, as if he could have predicted this, as if he had told everyone she was a worthless, weak human and had just been proven right.
She would have to change her attitude. “Hand me a dagger, to match Rane’s.”
Caynin handed her a dagger after she removed her gloves. The gloves made her hands slip and would certainly cost her the fight. She was better without them, even if it meant her fingers would feel like icicles.
Zoey tried to keep her face placid and appear strong, fearless. Her life had turned into a masked ball – she would never truly be able to show who she was or what she was feeling. She didn’t look toward Caynin for help because something inside her would fracture if he refused. She didn’t want the trust, the connection they had, to break.