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I’m half-fae, half-human, and depressingly excited by the idea of being able to pay for name-brand cereal.
Adulting
May can be as susceptible to colorful displays as any six-year-old; she tossed five candy bars into the cart while we waited in the checkout lane.
May’s fall looked suspiciously like a sop to my pride.
“By my power as Queen of the Mists, Regent of these Western Lands, I name you Countess of Goldengreen. Welcome to the peerage, Lady Daye.”
Faerie isn’t hung up on sexual orientation—experimentation is normal when you have forever—but
“She deserves a medal for that,” said Quentin. I blinked,
surprised at the venom in his tone. “Any parent in this Kingdom would agree. My parents would agree.”
“Also, praying to the sacred ash and all that shit might be good.”
I know. Hush, now.” He closed his eyes. “By the root and the branch, the rose and the tree, by oak, ash, yarrow, and thorn, I say you’ve served me well; by the moon and stars, by ice and fire, by willow, rowan, elm, and pine, I name you a knight of my service, bound to Shadowed Hills until Faerie is no more. What say you of this?”
“Of course. Thank you, Your . . . ” He closed his eyes, sighing. I waited for him to take another breath and finish the sentence. He never did.
“He started it,” I said. “That’s nice. It’s finished now.” Sylvester bent to retrieve my sword from the floor.
Etienne stood, giving me a sidelong look. “What do you
think he did when he stood by and let the Queen’s guard have you?”
May and Quentin had broken six vases and a crystal ball trying to play hockey in the solarium.
