Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Her words freaked me out precisely because I had no idea who I really was in relation to the Fae world. What if I was the Fae King’s bastard with some woman from the wrong side of the Fae tracks?
But she was also making me angry.
“Why is okay if half my parentage is from the Winter Court and not okay for Lachlan?” I demanded.
“Because he’s clearly of common birth. One of his parents might be Sidhe—maybe even High Sidhe—but the other one is clearly just trash.” She sniffed. “He’s probably part troll or something!”
I cast a glance at Lachlan and saw that his face had gone white with rage. He didn’t say anything but the grip he had on his lunch tray made me think he was about two seconds from losing it. Clearly we needed to get away from here.
“Sorry, but I have no interest in sitting with snobs who say nasty things about my friends,” I told Allison Rose. “Lachlan and Bran and I stick together—we’re a package deal.”
“You can’t be serious!” She raised her eyebrows. “But it’s clear that Bran is High Sidhe too! The two of you don’t need to be saddled with UnSeelie garbage!” She sniffed again. “I don’t even know why Headmistress Nightworthy let him into Nocturne to begin with.”
Lachlan still said nothing but Bran spoke up.
“If you were male, I would call you out for talking that way about my friend,” he said in a low, angry voice. “Lachlan has as much right to be here as you or any of the others at the Fae table.”
“How dare you?” She glared at him and then at me. “You two are making a big mistake. It’s social suicide being seen with someone from the Winter Court. None of the other Fae will be caught dead anywhere near you.”
“I’ve been at Nocturne since my sophomore year and I’ve managed to get along without Fae companionship just fine,” I pointed out evenly. “I think I’ll live if I don’t sit at your table.”
“Well!” Allison huffed. “I was just trying to be nice.”
“No—you were trying to curry favor in case Emma is a Royal,” Bran said coolly. “But as you can see, our lady isn’t interested.” He and Lachlan exchanged a look and a nod between them.
“They’re right,” I said. “So I think we’ll go sit at our regular table.” I started to go and then turned back. “Oh and if I am a Royal, you’ll be in big trouble when I finally get to the Summer Court.”
I left Allison gasping as I turned and sauntered away, tossing my hair back and letting my hips sway in a way I never had before. It was what Avery would have called a “Fuck you walk” and I worked it for all I was worth.
If the other Fae were going to hate me, fine—let them hate me. I knew who my true friends were and where my loyalties lay.
Even if I had no idea who I really was or who my Fae parents—royal or otherwise—were either.
47
“What’s wrong, Emmers—you look upset,” Avery asked as I sat down at the lunch table on Friday afternoon. “And what’s going on with your fingers?” He picked up one of my hands to examine it. “Your nails used to be so nice and now half of them are gnawed down to the quick!”
“It’s nothing,” I said, snatching my hand away. “It’s just…been a rough week.”
A rough week would be an understatement. All week long at school I had been dealing with fascinated boys who wouldn’t leave me alone. And then I had been working at the diner every single night while trying to juggle homework and studying for tests as well.
The shifts at the diner were tough. Joey kept getting fascinated by me and doing stupid things. Just the night before he had started staring at me and forgotten all about the fries he was making. They had burned to a crisp but he had served them anyway because he was too befuddled to think of making another batch. The customers who had gotten them had not been pleased. They had left muttering about how they were never coming back—and they were regulars who’d been coming for twenty years!
I felt terrible that my boss was one of the “simple-minded males” who couldn’t resist my stupid new ability to fascinate, that I somehow didn’t seem able to turn off. I had always respected Joey before—he was a genuinely nice man who always lectured me about how important school was and never tried anything weird or cringy. And he didn’t try anything now, to give him credit, but he just couldn’t seem to stop staring at me while we were working together. It was awful.
But the worst thing was, despite all the shifts I was pulling at the diner, I was still short—way short—on money. I had thought by working hard enough I could make up the other half of the double rent Mom and I owed. But I hadn’t counted on it being an exceptionally slow week. Joey had closed up early twice because there weren’t enough customers coming in.