Happy face, Summer. Remembering my new mission to charm the prince, I pad cheerfully downstairs to the dining room where Eclipsa and the prince wait.
Eclipsa gives a little shout of glee. “I knew you’d pick the gray leather pants. They’re killer, right? And that blue blouse is perfect for your complexion.”
I worry the hem of my shirt between my fingers as I sit. Like always, for a moment, before my mind grows accustomed to being around the Fae, adrenaline burns my veins. Something about their sharp ears and exotic, not-quite-human features this early in the day is disconcerting.
“You just missed Headmistress Lepidonis,” Eclipsa says. She takes a bite of some kind of Fae fruit that looks like a cross between a nectarine and an apple.
I grab a stainless steel carafe and a teacup, praying to every god in existence there’s coffee inside. Dark liquid sloshes into my cup.
As the nutty, acidic smell of coffee swirls inside my nose, everything in the world rights itself.
“What did she want?” I ask between sips. The coffee is perfectly heated—probably by magic.
“To express her immense displeasure at my decision to kidnap a first year without the headmistress’s permission,” the prince answers, sliding an accusatory gaze to Eclipsa.
Eclipsa rolls her eyes. “She didn’t say we had to return her.”
“No, but at some point she’ll need answers as to why. Any progress on that end?”
Stabbing a square of cheese with a disconcertingly big steak knife, Eclipsa shakes her head. “Still working on it. They tested the basilisk for residual persuasion magic, but so far nothing. And they’ve released the girl’s friend who they suspected. She had an alibi.” She gives a shrug meant to make her seem less worried than she is. “Speaking of friends, Summer, one of yours came by today. A Mackenzie Fairchild?”
“Mack?” I scour the dining room as if she might still be here. “When?”
“Right before you woke up.” A smile lifts her cheeks. “I could tell she was scared; it took her ten minutes to knock on the door. But she did, and then she demanded to know if you’re okay.”
Crap, why didn’t I think to get word to her?
“What did you tell her?”
“That you were fine, but sleeping. You’d had a late night.”
My cheeks burn. Does Eclipsa know I eavesdropped last night?
After that, a heavy silence descends. The prince is doing his best to ignore me. Surprise, surprise.
I reach across the table, butter some toast, and slather it with some fig jam. Time for step one of my plan: kill him with kindness. “Sleep well, Prince?”
His gaze darts to me and back to stare solemnly into his honeydew-green tea. “Fine.” Eclipsa clears her throat and he adds, “You?”
“Great,” I lie. “Ready for today?”
His silver-blue eyes are almost the same color as the clouds outside as they regard me beneath ink-blue eyebrows. “Always.”
“Good.” I snatch the rest of the toast from the table, ignoring the disapproving scowl from a lesser Fae servant, and shoulder into my coat. “See you after lunch.”
The minute the door shuts behind me, I sag against it, not sure whether to laugh or cry. I have no idea if my plan will reach beneath that icy surface—or if there’s anything there to even reach—but damn if it won’t be fun trying.
38
Two whole months. That’s how long I’ve been trying to crack the prince’s icy facade. And so far, it’s been a total failure.
I’ve been the perfect shadow. I greet him every morning like he’s my favorite person on earth. I’m helpful during classes, grab him items before he asks, and go the extra mile by making sure all his pencils are sharpened and his electronics charged. I’ve improved in combat class, the extra lessons with Eclipsa finally paying off.
But none of it has gotten me any closer to him; in fact, some days I think it’s the opposite. The nicer I am, the more I present myself as a human being, the more he resents me. He’s gone most nights now, so I never see him at the house.
Rumor has it he’s back with Inara, not that I give a flying frick.
Exhaling, I breathe out my frustrations as I lean my head back, taking in the rare sun. All the first year students are sitting on blankets in the snowy grounds near the lake, enjoying a picnic before our excursion begins.
The combined field trip is put on every year by our Mythological Creatures and Potions and Poisons classes.
All around me, students try to guess where we’re going.
“Somewhere in the Spring Court, hopefully,” Evelyn says, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
In this light, the gold filaments between the red are visible. Man, I would kill for hair like that.
“I couldn’t care less,” Mack says. She’s dressed in khaki shorts and knee-high riding boots, Ray Ban aviator sunglasses hiding her eyes. “As long as the tacos keep coming, I’m happy.”
Our food is catered by the students’ top choice, and this year the restaurant just happened to be my favorite taco truck stand in existence, Locos Tacos.
The purple-and-gold checkered blanket we sit on is soft against my legs. Wherever we’re going on this mysterious field trip, we were told to be ready for warmer weather, and I’ve rolled my jeans up as high as they go.
But it’s unseasonably warm on the Island too. Despite being early December, the sun’s kiss breaches my thin powder-blue sweater.
I could have worn shorts, I suppose. The prince provides me with an endless supply of clothes for every occasion, even though I only ever go with the leather pants, loose sweatshirts, and hoodies.
But then I’d have to ask him for a razor, and I’m tired of him giving me things to make up for his callousness.
A shadow draws lazy circles around our blanket. The prince’s owl. He follows me when Eclipsa or the prince aren’t with me.
Nothing has happened since the basilisk; I’m starting to think I overreacted. After all, Everwilde is a dangerous place. Despite the headmistress’s concerns, mortals are bound to die.
It’s the Fae way.
“Gonna eat that or eye screw it?” Mack asks, jerking her chin at the basket of tacos in my lap. I take a bite and pure heaven glides over my taste buds.
“Fae ears,” I moan through a mouthful of green chili pork taco. “I can die happy now.”
Mack wipes her hands on a napkin and grabs another soft taco, the corn tortilla breaking apart between her fingers. Tomatillo sauce smears her cheek, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun. Purple and teal streak the chocolate brown, her newest colors.
“This is better than sex,” she declares like someone who’s had a ton of sex. Which I’m pretty sure she hasn’t.
“Whoa, ladies.” Jace is a first year shadow who, if the rumors are true, has more experience in his pinky than Mack and I have put together. His parents own a bunch of Fae condos in Florida. “You must not have found the right partners yet.”
Mack arches an eyebrow. “And what would you know about that, Jace?”
Everyone knows Jace bats for the other team. Grinning, he gives a careless shrug. “Enough to know if you think a taco is better, you’re doing it wrong.”