“Maybe he will have forgotten you,” Val whispered, her breath barely audible over the roar of the festival raging around us. Dancers danced. Music played. Children screamed and ran past with pink ribbons streaming in their hair. Anyone under the age of sixteen or over twenty-seven could carry on with their lives without a care in the world. Born at the wrong time, many would say.
But they were safe from him.
“You could be right.” I said it for her sake more than mine. The king had surely not forgotten me.
One of the elders in the village, a gray-haired man named Caleb, hopped onto a stool and clapped his hands to gather everyone together in the square. Children shrieked and ran forward on bare feet, tumbling to a stop on the ground just in front of him, while the older generation hung back and exchanged expectant looks. It was time for the official start of the festival, when the elder passed down the Tale of War.
“Welcome to the fifth Festival of Light, where we will celebrate our three-hundred-and-seventy-five-year pact with the light fae.” His voice boomed as we all fell silent. I exchanged a glance with Val, and she rolled her eyes. “TheOidhebegan after the creation of the Great Rift, after King Oberon’s war against the Mist King.”
A rumble went through the crowd.
“The three fae kingdoms of Aesir, the Kingdom of Light, the Kingdom of Shadow, and the Kingdom of Storms, once lived in harmony. But that all changed when the Mist King decided to invade the Kingdom of Light after burning down human cities in the lands beyond the sea, mimicking the ancient myths of the five banished gods.”
I shifted on my feet, ignoring the pinch of my shoes. The gods were nothing but stories, tales told around hearths, of a time when powerful beings used their horrific magic to feed upon the flesh of fae and mortals alike. Theburnedflesh. But while the gods weren’t real, the Mist King had been inspired to follow in their fictional footsteps. He’d destroyed entire human kingdoms and feasted on the remains. Then he’d turned his deadly gaze here.
The elder continued. “But he did not account for the greatness of King Oberon, an elite fae with the power of the sun. Our Highness created the Great Rift, the barrier that keeps the Mist King from invading our village. He keeps us safe from the power of the mists and the monsters contained within it—the bloodthirsty shadowfiends and wraiths, and the shapeshifting joint eaters with vicious claws. To thank our great ruler for keeping us safe, we provide him with a new mortal bride every seventy-five years. Our sacrifice means that the fae can have more children, since the creation of the Great Rift had unexpected consequences and left the females barren. Whoever is chosen this day has been given a great honor. Long live the king.”
Fuck the king.
I turned to Val. “If you ask me, I hope the joint eaters bite both kings’ co—”
“Come now.” Mother appeared behind me and ushered us toward the cluster of girls gathering at the eastern edge of the square. A table had been laid out with celebratory pies and cakes, the sweet scent of them wafting through the crowd. Once the king had chosen his bride, the mother of the lucky girl would cut the three-tiered vanilla cake and present it to the king himself. He’d take one bite, bless the village to eat the rest, and then he’d be gone with his new human companion. There would be no goodbyes. No gathering of belongings.
She’d just be…gone.
I could understand why Marissa had gone in search of her friend. I couldn’t imagine watching Nellie or Val vanish down that path, only to be trapped up there behind the glittering walls of the fae city, never to be seen again. My stomach twisted at the thought. Losing either of them like that would burn.
Mother steered me to the back of the crowd, sandwiching me between Nellie and Val. Despite our earlier argument, I gave her a grateful smile as she bustled away to join the other mothers. For once, I understood what she was doing. We were less likely to catch the king’s eye back here. Twenty-one other girls stood in the way.
I knew each of them by name and some were distant cousins. We’d grown up side by side, watching the endless sun slide from one corner of the sky to the next, plucking bluebells from the forest, daring each other to jump into the river where the fish liked to nibble on our toes.
Just in the front, there was Sanya, with long chestnut hair like Nellie’s. Beautiful, timid, shy. She loved books and knitting and sweet chocolates. I could not imagine her at court with all those rowdy fae. Beside her was Lily, who stood tall with slim shoulders thrown back in defiance or determination. I wasn’t sure which. In her younger days, she’d been part of my crew with Val. Always conspiring, always whispering dark words about our king.
But something had shifted in her during these past two years. Her eyes had begun to drift toward the city walls up on that hill. She fell silent when we whispered about the king. And when it had been time for our mothers to craft our gowns for the ceremony, she’d stopped speaking to me and Val entirely.
Worry whispered through me. Lily had blonde hair and a voluptuous figure. She had an aura about her that made her stand out from the crowd, but she wasn’t too strong-willed. Unlike me, she knew when to be agreeable.
Out of all of us, she seemed like King Oberon’s most obvious choice.
“Look what Ellen has done,” Val whispered to me.
In the second row, Ellen shifted uneasily on her feet. Beautiful, with midnight hair, wide eyes, and a perky nose, she smiled as she gazed at the approaching procession. Her mother had spent a fortune of time on her gown. Every single inch sparkled with crystal stones, catching the light so that Ellen herself seemed to shine.
A glittering jewel, destined to catch the eye of the king.
Only problem was, she’d stuffed her chest with rags.
“Ellen,” I hissed at her, but she pointedly ignored me. Everyone knew you couldn’t fool the king. Some redheads had once tried to dye their hair in order to tempt him to choose them. Like Marissa, they’d quickly been beheaded.
Shaking my head, I pushed the others aside and grabbed Ellen’s arms. Shouts of irritation rose up around me, but I didn’t care. I shoved my hands into her gown and ripped out the rags. Blood boiled on her face.
“How dare you?” she hissed at me. “Give those back.” She snatched for the rags, but I held them out of reach.
I lowered my voice. “You can’t. Hewillkill you.”
“Girls, stop it,” my mother exclaimed, grabbing the rags from my hands and shaking them right at Ellen’s face. “You should know better than to try and trick the king into wedding you, my love. Now, everyone get back in line. He’ll be here within moments, and we don’t want him to catch you squabbling over fake breasts.”
Ellen shot me one last look of rage before the mask of perfect civility slid back into place. Fake, bright smile. Empty eyes. She smoothed down her dress and tried to tighten it just so.