Facing the Fae [BOOK TWO]

Chapter 2

Rebecca quickly discovered that your first day of a new school was the same, no matter who, nor where you were.

For one, the trek down the hill to exit the palace grounds had been awful—because she wasn't jumping down the cliff. With Adam by her side, she'd walked to the school—a large building that looked like something out of a horror movie, ironically enough.

The whole time, he'd remained between worlds. And talked to her mind—something she still wasn't used to.

Now, she sat in classroom, she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from prying eyes. It was completely different to the classrooms she'd been in before. The room was larger and there were no desks. Instead, three brown long, leather lounges were set up in the shape of a square. Only the front one was missing.

Grateful, she'd been given a pair of leggings and a loose hoodie, Rebecca sat back and pulled her knees up to her chest. She'd been ostracised already. To begin with, her clothes set her apart—everyone else was dressed in expensive jackets and jeans.

Only twelve Fae were in the class. All of whom were occupying two of the couches, staring at her. Rebecca was the only one on the third, sitting on her own. It didn't matter that Adam was sitting next to her and they just couldn't tell. She was alone. Again.

Clearly, being royalty didn't make you any more popular than before.

Her life really was pathetic.

As she balanced her notepad on her knees, Rebecca could only stare at the front of the room. A teacher was standing there talking animatedly; hands gesturing around wildly. She was young and beautiful—no older than twenty five. But, since Faeries aged differently she could've been hundreds of years old. Her perfect smile was blinding, stark in contrast to her dark eyes and hair.

And she kept looking at Rebecca.

Who had no idea what was going on. The words tumbling out of the teacher's mouth, were unlike any other she'd heard before. It was a completely different language.

Her hands shook as she gripped the pen in her hand, watching all the other students scribble down actively.

On a whim, she wrote, I don't know what they're saying. Hoping Adam would read it.

Thankfully he did.

You don't speak Faelk? His voice in her head sounded surprised.

No, she wrote, remembering that it was the language Mikael had said was on the tunnel walls.

She'd never wished to know a language more than right now. It wasn't her fault though. American's were known for their knack of learning languages. You spoke English everyday—it was all you need. At least, that's what she'd heard people say.

Besides, it wasn't as if she could've asked someone to teach her how to speak Faerie.

Rebecca stared down at her lap, just hoping they'd avoid looking at her. She knew it didn't work. She was the fish in a pool of hungry sharks—they were out to get her.

What're they talking about? she wrote, fighting to keep her hands from shaking.

Fae history.

Rebecca sighed quietly. Another thing she knew nothing about. Considering she was supposed to be Queen—and that meant everything was supposed to be handed to her on a silver platter—she was lost. No one was making this any easier on her.