Faery Godlover

He waved her off dismissively. “Gender isn’t important. The gist remains the same.”

“Maybe. How am I supposed to discuss my woes, considering you’re the source of my woes?”

Duada watched her carefully, and his sharp gaze reflected the shrewdness beneath the devil-may-care mask he wore.

Her face heated all of a sudden. He couldn’t possibly know what she was really thinking, could he? He wasn’t a mind reader, was he? It was hard to tell what kind of power he wielded as the prince of faes.

“You’re really don’t like me, do you?” he asked.

“How very observant of you, Captain Obvious.” Jasmine let sarcasm drip with every word. She opened the lid of the ice cream and peeled off its plastic seal as a distraction so she didn’t have to look at him. She grabbed a spoon from his long tapered fingers and shoveled in a mouthful. She cringed a heartbeat later. Brain freeze. “So. I’ve been wondering why your Queen gave you such unpleasant task as playing my matchmaker. What exactly does a prince do where you came from?”

Duada arched his brows. “You’re asking me what my duties in the Summerland Court entail?”

She nodded.

He took a spoonful of ice cream before answered, “Excellent question. During the war, I was in charge of Her Majesty’s personal safety and the order of her court. These days I mostly indulge in excess… I hazard, borrowing her term. I dallied with someone I wasn’t supposed to. So Queenie sent me here so I can reflect on my, uhm, shortcomings.”

“Scandal, huh? Why am I not surprised?”

Duada smirked. “You shouldn’t be. You know that I’m so irresistible I break many hearts in my wake. You can’t fault me for that.”

Don’t give him the ammo. Ignore that. Just ignore…

“You said war. When did that happen? I thought faefolks were a peace-loving bunch. From the stories I heard when I was a kid, your people like to sing and dance and stuff. There’s no mention at all about a war.” She raked her gaze over him. “And aren’t faeries supposed to be tiny winged creatures? Like Tinkerbell.”

“What a misguided notion you have about my kin.” Duada flicked his fingers on her forehead.

She winced.

“I’m a High Fae. Don’t lump me together with the Lesser Fae.” He ate another scoop of ice cream. “Contrary to your fairytales, we like to wage wars and our history is just as bloody and garish as you humans. I slaughtered many of my kind to pave Her Majesty’s way to her throne. But that was over a century ago. The Summerland Court is mostly idyllic these days. I shall enjoy it while it lasts. Although if I must say, all play and no work make me a dull man.”

“Century? How old are you?”

“Has anyone told you it’s not polite to ask a man’s age?”

She rolled her eyes. “So you actually can fight?”

He leaned closer with a conspiratorial grin. “I know what you’re thinking, I’m too refined-looking to wield a blade like a grunt and spill blood, am I right?”

“I think you need a reality check once in a while. Who did you fight during the war?”

Duada didn’t answer right away. He pushed his hair off his face and his gaze drifted to the half-drawn window in her room, staring into something that wasn’t there. “My mother,” he finally said. “the Queen is my aunt.”

“Your mother?” Jasmine echoed. “Why did you side with your aunt?”

“Because, my sweet, my mother was a usurper, a jealous witch, wicked at heart. She wanted everything and gained nothing. The fae court is very complicated, you see. The politics, the intrigue and the backstabbing. You can really trust no one and most fae carry their own agenda. We are ruthless beings when it comes to playing a game of power. Once you enter a court, you must pick an alliance. If you made a poor choice, chances are, you’re going to die.”

“So you must pick the right side then,” she hedged.

“I picked the righteous side.” A wan smile crept across his face. “My mother killed my older brother and others who were dear to me. Her betrayal was hideous.”

Yikes. “And your father? Is he still alive?”

He shook his head slightly. “My father perished when I was a babe. Rumor has it my mother had brought about his early demise as well. I wouldn’t know because she took that secret to her grave. She never admitted it when I confronted her. Of course, why would she?”

An awkward silence stretched between them.

“I’m sorry about your family,” Jasmine said in a quiet voice. “I shouldn’t have asked.”