Lina: Twisted Fairy Tales Book Two

37: Unintended Slight

“My Lady! My Lady!.. Princess Malina!”

I was walking through one of the castle courtyards, or stalking through it would be more accurate, and was so unused to hearing anyone address me, that I had ignored the calling voice until they used my name.

“Damn titles. Useless, blasted things..” I muttered under my breath as I turned, plastering a falsely chipper smile on my face. “Hello Matron! How can I help you today?” The woman was nearly red-faced from chasing me, and I blessed my life that I was born a Shifter, allowing me to dispense with the ridiculous corsets. Mostly. The Matron of the orphanage gripped my hand, panting.

“I don’t know how you did it, but thank you!” She gushed. Taken aback, I blinked, and tried to keep my smile from faltering.

“You’re welcome, but whatever for?” I simpered. Gotta play the part while pumping people for information while looking like you can do no wrong because you’re ‘royal’.

“Oh forgive me! The baquet! In the castle itself, hosted by the Queen Mother of all things! And having the Faery King as the surprise guest? That was incredibly canny! Requests are pouring in! Everyone wants to be there to meet him! It doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous of course.. I have high hopes for this year’s charitable donations!..” I had lost track of what she was saying, watching her blush for an entirely different reason as she cooed over Arran, then babbled on about how much coin she hoped to raise and where the funds would be allocated. Inside, I was seething. My grandmother had managed to do it again. She’d found the one thing that would irritate me the most, and somehow managed to force it on me in the guise of looking ‘kind’. The Fae King! As an honored guest! Hours of being forced to sit by his side, watching people fawn over him! Somehow I managed to keep my smile on my face, though it felt more like a grimace, and as soon as I found a break in the conversation, I wished the Matron well, and slipped away. It was time to have a talk. With my grandmother.

“Well don’t blame me, dear, it was his idea.” My grandmother was having tea in her garden with some of her ‘friends’. I bristled.

“His. Idea?” I barely controlled my teeth changing into something more threatening.

“Yes dear. He said you’d mentioned we were having some monetary problems, and he offered his aid. And furthermore, I’ve come up with the theme for the Banquet!” Her friends tittered, but I stiffened even further.

“There's going. to be. a theme?” I gritted out to a bright smile from my grandmother.

“Oh yes!” She chirped delightedly. This could only be Hell, so I braced for the worst.

“I was thinking, the theme should be ‘Faery’. You know, to make our guest feel more at home..” My grandmother nearly squealed, and her sycophants almost shat themselves trying to agree with her first while she described people dressing like Fae with wings and fake pointed ears. They practically tripped all over themselves stoking her ego and telling her what marvelous ideas she had. I was even angrier, but also, something in me plummeted.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I told my grandmother, thinking of how it might make Arran feel. “It seems.. Disrespectful..” I said softly. Something about the idea of people putting on fake wings and pretending to be Faery just.. Bothered me somehow. It would be like if they tried to dress as Werewolves or Werefoxes to ‘honor’ my family. It just felt.. Wrong.

“Oh don’t be silly, girl, he’ll love it!” My grandmother insisted, waving me off. My frown deepened.

“Grandmother, I really don’t think..” I tried to assert more strongly, but she overrode me.

“The decision is made.” She snapped. “I’ll call you for a fitting in a few days. Now off you go.” She wiggled her fingers in a ‘shoo’ motion and I gritted my teeth. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe I could convince Arran not to come.

“Yes grandmother.” I muttered and spun on my heel. It was time for me to try to work this problem from another angle.

I couldn’t run any faster in this form, and for a moment, I considered changing to my fox, but then I’d be nude and that would only be a distraction for my intended audience.

I could feel him out this way somewhere. I couldn’t say precisely how I knew, but I just did, and I followed the trace of Arran with my skirts clutched high around my knees.

“Well, isn’t this a pretty sight?” Arran dropped in front of me, wings tucking away behind him as he grinned at me with an almost devilish gleam in his eyes. “Though your legs have suffered.” He tsked, dropping to his knees to lift one of my feet off the ground, running a thumb over a bleeding wound. I must have caught it on a thorn or sharp branch, but as I watched, Arran brought his thumb to his lips and his tongue darted out, tasting my blood. I yanked my leg from his grip, nearly toppling myself in my already unsteady position and dropped my skirts. Arran had never relinquished eye contact, and I was flustered.

“Why did you do that?” I demanded and he slowly rose.

“I was merely concerned about your health.” He answered, advancing on me.

“So you tasted my blood?” I snapped. He grinned.

“What better way to gauge your health, Laoina?” He purred. I had begun to back up, trying to escape him, and my heel caught on a fallen branch. I titled, losing my balance. But before I could hit the ground, Arran was there, catching me. I fell into his arms and he straightened with me clasped to his chest. I looked over my shoulder at him, completely dazed. “Whoops, don’t want to hurt ourselves, do we? That could have been a nasty tumble.” His voice was low, seductive, and his scent enveloped me, drawing me in. His arm around my waist tightened subtly as the other, that had grabbed my arm, slid its way down until he could grasp my hand in his. Suddenly I realized he held me in what could easily be mistaken for a dancer’s pose. Or a lover’s embrace. I shoved myself away, flustered once more and tried to push my unruly hair back out of my face.

“I’m actually here for something rather important.” I informed him stiffly.

“Oh?” He raised a brow, amusement lacing his voice.

“Yes.” It’s about the banquet for the orphans. I wanted to ask you not to attend.” I replied curtly. Arran’s expression closed off faster than a storm could roll in. through the sky. I felt a sharp pang as I realized I had seen a brief flash of emotion there where he almost looked.. hurt.

“I see.” Arran responded emotionlessly. I battled back a strange feeling of guilt.