“This?” She smiles slowly, and her face lights up. She’s stunning. I wonder if she’s Finn’s wife or partner or—I squelch the errant thought. Why do I care who he’s with? “Yes, this is my true form.”
“Can you fly when you have the wings?”
She snorts and waves at me to follow her down the dimly lit hallway to the back of the house. “It depends on the form I take. I can’t fly when I shift into Eurelody, because Eurelody can’t fly. Other forms . . .” She shrugs. “Sure. Sometimes. Though it takes a lot of energy to shift so completely.”
I follow her through a set of double doors into a massive library that has two-story ceilings and bookshelves lining every wall. In the middle of the room, a trio of fae males gather around a table, discussing something in low tones. I recognize Kane, and I think the other two were guarding the door to the office the night Kane carried me into the tavern. Finn isn’t anywhere to be seen, but his wolves are napping in the shadows at the back of the library.
“Hell-ooo,” Pretha singsongs, and the males straighten.
Kane grabs something off the table—a map maybe?—and rolls it up before sliding it into the back of his pants. “The princess returns,” he grumbles.
I arch a brow. “If you don’t want me here, then why does your prince keep sending her to retrieve me?”
“Ignore Kane,” Pretha says. “He’s perpetually cranky.”
Kane scowls at her, and the other two chuckle.
Pretha points to the male with dark skin, short black dreadlocks, and silver webbing on his forehead much like Pretha’s. “Abriella, this is Tynan,” she says. He smiles as he offers his hand, and I shake it. “And Jalek,” she says, pointing to the other, a pale-skinned male with buzzed white hair and dark green eyes. This one doesn’t offer a hand. Instead he gives me a curt nod and takes a step back, as if he doesn’t want to get too close to me.
I clear my throat. “It’s . . . nice to meet you all.”
Jalek grunts. “She’s a terrible liar. You’re sure she can dupe the prince?”
“Hush, you,” Pretha says. “Abriella is the best chance Finn’s court has.”
I arch a brow. Finn’s court. “You’re not Unseelie?” I blurt.
She grimaces and exchanges a look with Tynan. “Not by birth.” Sighing, she adds, “I was born one of the Wild Fae, but I pledged my allegiance to Finn long ago.”
I look to the others. “And you three?”
“Unseelie born and bred,” Kane says, pounding his fist against his chest.
“But don’t worry,” Tynan says. “Not all Unseelie are as ugly as that one.”
Kane gives Tynan a vulgar gesture, and Jalek bites back a smile.
Pretha ignores them all. “Tynan is Wild Fae, like me. And Jalek is Seelie by birth. Many years ago he was a courtier for the golden queen’s father.”
“Old ass,” Kane mutters.
“I’d rather be old and wise than young and dumb,” Jalek says, but his eyes remain on me, studying my reaction to this information.
I try not to gape. I was always under the impression that the fae were strictly loyal to the court they were born into, but Finn seems to have assembled a little band of misfits. “And you all work for Finn?”
“We work for the greater good for all of Faerie,” Pretha says, pulling her long hair over one shoulder and beginning to braid it. “And since Finn is leading that charge, yes, we work for him. We work with him.”
Jalek narrows those vivid green eyes at me. “Have you spent much time with Queen Arya at the palace?”
I shake my head. I haven’t laid eyes on the queen since the day I went before her to pretend I wanted to marry her son. “No. She’s not around much.”
Jalek and Tynan exchange a look, and Kane mumbles something I can’t hear.
“I think you all have somewhere you’re supposed to be this morning,” Pretha says pointedly, and instead of bristling at a female ordering them around, the three males nod and head toward the library’s double doors. Females so rarely have any meaningful power in Elora, and I can’t help but respect Pretha a little more.
Tynan is the last to leave. He stops in the doorway before turning back to Pretha. “Misha and Amira have requested a meeting with Finn. Amira specifically asked for you to attend. I thought you might want to prepare yourself.”
Pretha’s smile falters, but she quickly pastes it back in place and nods. “Thank you for letting me know.”
He turns away and lets the doors swing closed behind him.
“Who are Misha and Amira?” I ask.
“King and queen of the Wild Fae. They’ve been essential in our mission over the last two decades.”
If they’ve been so essential, why does Pretha look shell-shocked at the news that she’ll have to meet with them?