Just then we reached the head of the food line where Nancy and her cohorts were serving with sour looks on their faces. I looked automatically at the ubiquitous tub of “Norm slop” as Avery sometimes called it, with its layer of crayon-orange melted cheese.
I could already smell it and I realized, with a sinking heart, that the lunch ladies had mixed some kind of fish with some kind of fruit again. Plus, broccoli and brussel spouts—at least, judging from the smell and the specks of green sticking up from under the thick, greasy blanket of cheese.
Guess I’m just having iced tea again for lunch, I thought dolefully. And then Bran, who was ahead of me, pointed at the Fae entrée, which was some kind of aromatic baked chicken dish with lots of spices and herbs accompanied by a delicately spiced rice pilaf and fresh, crispy green beans. Watching him order, it dawned on me suddenly that I could have the same thing.
I never had to eat the awful Norm food the cafeteria served ever again!
Well score one for being Fae.
When it was my turn to be served, I also asked for the Fae entrée. Nancy did a double take when she saw me, as though she wasn’t sure if I really was who she thought I was.
“Hey—you’re a Norm,” she accused me after squinting at me for a minute. “You can’t have this food—you must have had that little asshole Avery put a spell on you to look Fae.”
“Actually, she has just come out from under a spell,” Lachlan said, his emerald eyes flashing. “And she is very much Fae. So I suggest you serve my lady what she asks for before you offend her—and me.”
Nancy looked like she wanted to argue but just then one of the lunch ladies came over and demanded to know what was holding up the line. Compressing her thick lips into a thin white line, Nancy served me what I had asked for.
I walked out of the cafeteria line with a tray full of food that was actually edible for the first time since I’d started at Nocturne Academy. I won’t lie, I was feeling triumphant and thinking that being Fae maybe wasn’t so bad after all.
Until someone said, “Excuse me? Emma?”
I turned around and saw that Allison Rose, a pretty blonde Fae girl from my gym class, was talking to me. As Fae go, Allison wasn’t too bad. She didn’t hang around with Morganna, at least, and she had never made fun of me or picked on me when I looked like a Norm.
But then again, she’d never gone out of her way to talk to me, either. I had been invisible to her—and all the other beautiful people at Nocturne. So I wondered what she wanted now.
“Um, yes?” I asked politely.
“A bunch of us were just wondering if you’d like to come sit at the Fae table today,” Allison said, smiling sweetly. She nodded at the table under the long purple banner and several other Fae students waved and smiled as well.
“Oh, uh…” I didn’t know what to say.
“And you can bring Bran O’Connor with you,” Allison continued. She smiled over my shoulder at Bran. “It’s clear you two belong with us now.”
“Well, that’s very nice of you—” I began, but Allison clearly wasn’t done yet.
“I heard a rumor you were both under some kind of spell or curse and it was finally lifted—which explains why you’re not so homely anymore,” she went on. “You poor thing, being mistaken for a nasty little Norm all this time! You’ll have to tell us all about it.”
“That’s very kind of you, Allison,” Bran said, when she would let us get a word in edgewise. “But—”
“But I only see two seats open,” I said, thinking I could find a way to turn her down without being rude. “Bran and I can’t have lunch without Lachlan, here.” I nodded over my other shoulder, where the black-haired Fae was standing.
Allison’s expression turned into a kind of cold sneer.
“I’m sorry, but UnSeelie trash isn’t welcome at our table,” she snapped. “You can tell by the color of his hair that he’s from the Winter Court.”
“But I have black hair, too,” I said, angry at the way she was talking about Lachlan. “How do you know I’m not from the, uh, Winter Court?”
“Why, all anyone has to do to know that is to look at your eyes!” Allison fluttered. “I mean—the rare triple-ringed iris with golden darts? It’s obvious.” She leaned closer to me and murmured, “Tell the truth, are you a Royal? We’ve all heard the rumors that King Tyr had a lovechild with one of Queen Mab’s ladies in waiting from the Winter Court. You can tell me if you’re one of his Majesty’s by-blows—I swear your secret is safe with me! It would certainly explain your hair and eyes.”