Reign (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale 4)

He shook his head and gave her a long look. “Your neck, not mine.” He leapt nimbly down and stood in front of the coach as another footman opened the door. He cleared his throat and seemed to rethink the announcement, but finally raised his voice loudly. “Miss Elle Cinder from the Lands of the Golden Palace.”

Mina took the offered hand of a third footman and let him help her down the steps. Her nerves got the better of her and she almost tripped, but she recovered before anyone noticed. Her body moved on its own, and she found herself standing in front of Queen Maeve and King Lucian. She could feel the moment Teague recognized her, because his gaze bored a hole through her.

He continued staring, and she was afraid to look, afraid to make eye contact. She curtsied before the Fates and was about to rise when King Lucian stopped her.

“Elle Cinder,” his strong self-assured voice repeated. There was no question in his voice. He seemed to be repeating it so he could remember.

“Yes, your—” What was she supposed to call him? Majesty? Highness. Her mouth went dry and she finally spit out, “Royalness.”

Lucian smiled and slowly rubbed his beard. Queen Maeve gawked at her, judging her. Mina noticed the moment when the Queen dismissed her, because her gaze moved past her and beyond.

Mina’s legs began to quiver from staying low in the curtsey.

She was doing great so far at not making eye contact with Teague. His black leather boots had not a single spot of dirt on them. Suddenly that black boot started to tap impatiently, as if trying to draw her attention upward. Was this it? Had the giants brought her all this way so Teague could send her to prison?

Knowing the moment was at hand, and it was no longer avoidable, Mina looked up and her breath caught in her throat.

He was frowning, but then the corner of his mouth lifted in the hint of a smile that he was trying to hide. Her eyes traced a line from his lips and his angular jaw up past his nose to make contact with his deep blue eyes. Which were alit with—relief?

He bowed. “Elle,” the name rolled off his tongue, and she shivered.

She was certainly thankful he wasn’t furious at her, but she could tell he wanted to say more. He held her gaze and flicked his eyes to the right. She glanced in that direction. There wasn’t anything over there.

He did the motion again, and she realized she was supposed to head up the steps and follow the other girls inside. She was standing there like a goof staring at the prince.

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” She lifted her skirt and proceeded up the steps. When she got to the top, she hesitated again. There were two options. She started to go left.

“To the right,” Teague whispered.

“I knew that,” she said into the air, refusing to look back at him. His laughter followed her down the corridor. When she was out of his line of sight, she started to run—not down the hallway toward where the other girls were waiting—but for an exit. An escape route. She found a smaller hallway and followed it around to another side door. Thinking this must be a servant’s entrance, she opened it and dashed inside.

Only to come face to face with beautiful girls in a waiting room.

Eleven hateful gazes greeted her.

Chapter 22

“Hi,” Mina said meekly. She waved her hand in a wide arc in good old American fashion. Which was obviously not the thing to do, because the scowl grew deeper on the girl closest to her. Apparently, waving was not in their etiquette book or something.

“Who are you? I don’t know you. Why are you here?” The questions vaulted out of the one called Annalora’s mouth, one after another. Annalora’s dress was deep amber, which complemented her gold blonde hair and hazel eyes, and she was petite.

Mina couldn’t help but liken her to a small, aggressive Chihuahua.

“I’m here for the food, of course.” A snarky comment felt like the best course of action. She didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

“I knew it,” Annalora huffed. She turned and sat down next to Ever, crossing her arms and casting an annoyed look toward the others. “I heard there were only eleven, but she makes twelve.”

Another beautiful girl in an emerald green dress approached her. Her skin was tanned, and her hair a dark green piled high and woven with leaves and vines throughout. Her reception was much kinder than Annalora’s—the girl clasped her hand gently and gave it a warm squeeze. Mina noticed that her skin, though soft, had an odd pattern to it.

Oh. It wasn’t skin, but very soft, supple bark.

“I’m Dinah, a wood nymph. Welcome, and I’m sorry for Annalora’s reception of you. After all, she’s part gnome, and we all know gnomes have no manners.” There was no hidden malice behind Dinah’s comment. She’d stated it as fact.

Mina glanced over and watched as Annalora just gave a shrug of acceptance and looked away. Other than Annalora’s stature, there was nothing similar to what she’d envisioned a gnome to look or act like. The girl was not rosy cheeked or good natured. In fact, she was quite mean.

“Come sit with us. You must be nervous.” Dinah motioned to a long padded bench.