Facing the Fae [BOOK TWO]

Chapter 4

Rebecca slipped away as soon as she could.

She'd thought the first round was brutal. But she'd been wrong. So wrong it wasn't funny. It was tame compared to all the rest. After the third round she was so frazzled she felt ill.

The first round had been a drag—going from 1000 competitors to 500. The second had been shorter and more violent—from 500 to 250. And the third had just finished. Now there were only 125 hopefuls left, left to be limited down to a mere 100.

They were now having a break. At least that's what Ferro had told her. She knew it was for her though—the lie. There were no breaks, not even when it was nearly five in the afternoon. But he'd clearly seem how strung out she looked. Besides, she was Queen. If she wanted to take a break, they were taking a break. No questions asked.

Ferro walked behind her as she descended the stairs, paranoid she'd trip and fall. He seemed to realise she needed space. Not that she got it. Lining the stairs, occasionally stationed were guards. Weaving around them proved to be more effort than it was worse, but Rebecca didn't care.

She needed to be on her own. Ferro wasn't leaving her side, she knew that, but he wasn't completely unwelcoming either.

"Where can I go?" she asked, voice quiet. "Where no one will see me?"

"Just follow," he said, voice surprisingly gentle.

Rebecca let him take the lead, wishing she could avoid all the prying eyes, as they made it to the lower platform. She hated that they could see her vulnerable. It was what she tried to hide from others.

They breached the first set of stairs and Rebecca hurried to catch up with Ferro. He was walking fast for her benefit, and she was grateful for it. She was just unlucky to have short legs.

"Am I officially the queen now?" she whispered.

Ferro shook his head. "Not technically. Others will see it that way, but it's technically not true. Until your coronation it won't be official."

Rebecca was conscious of every step on the stairs—she couldn't wear a dress on flat ground, let alone a set of stairs. "Will they let me go to school?"

Considering she'd been ostracised on her first day, it wasn't a smart choice. But she needed something to do during the day—and she was used to school.

"No one can tell you not to go."

That was reassuring, she thought, as they got to the ground outside the arena. When Ferro turned left instead of right she went with him, trusting his judgement.

They ended up at a dead end, heading right the only way to go. It led to the area she'd seen before—full of makeshift tents. Fae were walking around, men and woman of various ages talking and walking around in groups.

Rebecca didn't blend in. At all. They were black fighting gear; she wore an obnoxiously sparkly dress. It was like a giant flashing here I am sign.

They openly stared at her. Then they all bowed their heads to her, murmuring what sounded like, "Your Grace." As though she deserved the deference they were giving so freely. Because she'd done nothing so far to earn it.

She wanted to ask why Ferro had chosen here, but she knew she just had to trust him.

Her question was answered when he stopped next to a white tent; sweeping the curtain that acted as the door aside. He stood, leaving it open and Rebecca walked forward into the tent.