There’sfreedom in the human lands. No one knows me here, and when I cloak myself in illusion, most can’t even tell I’m one of the Fae. A few people give me questioning looks, likely suspecting. But when their eyes move to my ears, they look away as if perplexed.
We traveled through Kellington, across the ferry that goes to Thornborough, and now we’re on our way to Valsta’s capital city of Davon. We should arrive in just a few hours.
We’re only a few days from the boundary of West Faerie, but it’s far enough. Not many of my people venture this deep into human territory, and our chance of being detected has gone down dramatically.
“I have a question,” Alice says across from me in the carriage, huddled under a thick fur blanket.
I watch the scenery pass beyond the window, intrigued by the snow. “All right.”
“Back in the garden, when you made the ring for me, you said a marriage vow is sufficient without the added binding magic, especially amongst people in West Faerie. What does that mean?”
I sit back, giving her my full attention. “Long ago, my distant grandmother tricked the wealthy king of East Faerie into creating a betrothal between her daughter and his son, saying that the princess was with child thanks to the unscrupulous nature of the eastern prince.
“The king of East Faerie, being an honorable man, agreed to the marriage and promised a large sum of money as an apology for the heartbreak and shame the queen and king of West Faerie had to endure. After the agreement was made binding, however, he learned that the princess was not carrying his grandchild—or any other child,” I explain. “Before the prince left his land to join our family, his father cursed him so that all his descendants, and anyone under their rule, would be forced to speak nothing but truth.”
“So, your family has always been rather awful.”
I smile at her teasing. “I think that sums it up well enough.”
“And if you lie?”
“It’s painful. Excruciating, really. And we’re ill for days.”
Alice thinks about it for several seconds, and then a mischievous smile spreads across her face. “So, if I were to ask you something, you can truly do nothing but answer me honestly?”
“Or avoid the question,” I say with a smirk, doing just that.
Looking delighted, Alice bites the corner of her lip, likely trying to decide what she’d like to ask. Then she nods to herself and leans forward, resting her elbows in her lap.
“Were you attracted to me when you first saw me stranded in the middle of the road? Did I make your heart flutter?”
I match her stance by leaning forward. “Yes.”
She grins, delighted. “Did you want to kiss me that night when we stood so close?”
I smile. “Yes.”
Her expression becomes serious. “Did you feel bad for deceiving me?”
I begin to tell her that I did, but my stomach tightens, and I pause, forced to think about it. “Yes and no.”
Alice’s eyes widen with question.
“I liked getting to know you behind the mask, without my title or my identity getting in the way. For the first time, I was no one—and you liked me anyway. But I did feel guilt for deceiving you, yes.”
Accepting my answer, Alice nods. Then her face brightens once more. “Did you think you’d ever fall in love with a human?”
“No.”
“It would be easier if I were a Faerie,” she says.
“Yes—but I like you exactly as you are.”
Slowly, her hand goes to the side of her head. “Do you think my ears are ugly?”
I snort out a laugh, unable to stop myself. “No, I think your ears are very appealing.”
“And the rest of me?”