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I glanced over at my father, then at Tavlor, who had been watching and listening. Exactly what I was meant to be doing.

He was right. They couldn’t object to such a simple thing, could they?

I took the arm he offered, tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow, and glided with him through the opulent room, towards the grand entrance.

I looked up at him, catching his gaze and admiring the bright green of his eyes. “I was worried about coming here. You know?”

The king patted my hand. “Yes. I do. We’re a dangerous race, are we not?”

I shrugged as we moved through the arid halls and moved out into the fresh air.

I shivered, the atmosphere wrapping around me and chilling my nose. It was cold, much colder than I remembered walking in.

“I don’t actually know about your race in general,” I began. “But I... feel the danger in Tavlor, the barely contained violence. The other Fae I’ve met have all been very kind. And knowledgeable. Powerful beyond belief.”

The king stiffened, the muscles beneath my hand growing harder.

“That’s good to know, but not Fae from my realm I have to assume,” he said, steel behind the soft words.

It sounded almost like a veiled threat, though I didn’t understand why.

“No. It wasn’t. Why do you ask?” I said.

We continued to walk through the streets, and I cringed at the way the people were living. The dirt on the children’s faces, the unkept clothes.

Where were the schools? The hospitals and facilities? Or did they not need such things here?

“Your father has not told you about my realm, has he?” The king asked, his tone gentle, his arm stiff.

I shook my head, pulling my gaze away from a particularly dirty Fae child with sharp cheekbones that spoke of starvation rather than genetics. “No. I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Do not be sorry. I... like that your father did not influence you before you got here. Although I doubt you are influenced easily.”

I grinned. “You’ve got that one right,” I said, nodding. I didn’t want to admit it, but the king was more charming than I anticipated him to be. He was arrogant, certainly, but he was good at lessening the arrogance and replacing it with an easy smile or a complimentary word. “Why do you think I’ve had such trouble with the Council?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, as though he was taking in everything I was saying and assessing me. He was calculating. I couldn’t trust him, not yet. As much as I was a little more comfortable in his presence, I still couldn’t be sure he didn’t want something from me.

I glanced behind me, noting that my father and Tavlor were still following us, but at a little bit of a distance. They weren’t talking, but watching us and the people around.

I put my focus back on the King. I had to ask. I knew I probably shouldn’t, but it was practically bursting out of me.

“King Ankor, please forgive my impertinence if I offend you, I would never mean to,” I said quickly. I was trying to slow down and really think about what I was asking, but the words came out too quickly and I couldn’t.

“Ask whatever you wish to ask, Ava,” he said, flickering his eyes down to me. “I will not be offended. Not today.”

Not today... Interesting...

“Okay. Thank you.” I took a breath and ploughed forward. “Where is all the magic? Do you have... rules, on what your Fae people can do with their magic? Or...”

Did he take all the Faerie magic for himself? I didn’t want to ask because that definitely felt like an accusation.

The king glanced over at me, his eyes searching for an answer I obviously didn’t have.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked in a soft voice, his lips nearly tickling my ear.

“I wouldn’t ask if I knew,” I said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his nearness bother me.

He sighed, almost like he was tired of the game. “You are an... unusual witch, Ava.”


Tags: Amelia Shaw Daughters of the Warlock Paranormal