A Rivalry of Hearts (Fae Flings and Corset Strings, #1)

by Tessonja Odette

Once dressed, I emerge from behind the screen. Zane brings their hands together, beaming at me. They take me by the shoulders and angle me toward a mirror. “I knew it would be perfect.”

“Daphne?” Her name comes out with a gasp. “Is…is that your seelie form?” She grimaces. “Yeah.”

“You’re stunning.” Another grimace, then a sigh. “Yeah.” “You don’t seem to think that’s a compliment,” Zane says, tone curious.

Daphne shifts from foot to foot. “I haven’t taken this form often, and when I do…well, people expect things of me. Poise. Accomplishments. They usually end up disappointed.”

“Keep it,” Zane says. “You don’t have to wear it tonight or go out with us if you don’t want to, but please take the dress. It suits you.” Daphne wrings her hands again. “All right.”

“Z, are you in⁠—” He pulls up short as his eyes fall on us. They settle on me, sweeping from my head to my feet and back again. His throat bobs, and it seems to take great effort for him to speak.

“Three,” I correct. “Daphne doesn’t want to go out tonight.” William shrugs. “That’s fine⁠—” “Two, actually,” Zane says. “I’m not going either.” William and I shift our eyes to them.

Again, Zane tries to hide their grin, but it’s no use. “Turns out…there’s this thing.” William levels a knowing look at his friend. “A thing?”

“A thing. But you know where to take her, right? Y...

“We were supposed to all go together.” Zane strolls past us with an exaggerated shrug. “Yes, but…there’s this thing. And…look...

William scowls at their back. “I know you’re up to no good when the only true thing you can say is there’s this thing.” “There’s this thing,” Zane ...

William heaves an aggrieved sigh, then turns to face me. His expression softens as his eyes meet mine. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” he says, voice low. “Looks like.”

I try not to show just how elated I am to be left alone with Edwina tonight.

I’m starting to suspect they conspired against us yet again. Or are they conspiring for us?

I reach for one of the strands and tuck it behind her ear. “You look nice.” Her eyes widen behind her lenses, and a flush creeps from her neck to her cheeks. She nudges her spectacles and quickly fixes her attention on the closed door of the elevator. “Thank you.”

I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep from touching her again. What I wouldn’t give to reach for that tie at the back of her neck and tug it loose.

I’m almost certain my hand around hers is all that keeps her from getting swept away and stolen by her own awe.

As she enters ahead of me, I’m graced with another delicious view of her bare back. Blooming hell.

An usher guides us to our seats—front row, thanks to Zane.

Ugh I hate front row at a theater

We’re cutting it close, but I didn’t want to arrive too early lest Edwina overhear what play we’re about to see. I really do want this to be a surprise.

The curtain finally shifts, and a fae male with aqua hair and a top hat emerges. With a flourish of his hand, he says, “Vulture’s Prose proudly presents The Governess and the Rake.”

Edwina sucks in a breath, sitting forward in her seat. As the curtain parts, she swivels to face me. Her eyes glisten beneath the glittering stage lights. “Will.”

My heart cracks at the sound of my name. The name only those closest to me use. Does she even know? Is she so overwhelmed that she ha...

Does she have any idea how much it makes me want to fucking kiss her and taste that name on her lips? My truest identity. The stripped-down v...

I give her a taste of what she gave me—her truest name without games, without teasing. “Edwina,” I say back. “Is this really...

Edwina glances at me again. “It’s a musical.” “A burlesque musical.” She furrows her brow and I wonder if she’s heard of burlesque in Bretton. It might be too racy for society there.

Yet I’ve learned enough about Edwina to know it won’t be too racy for her. She’s going to swoon once the performers start shedding layers of clothing, though it won’t happen until later in the play.

Edwina relishes every moment, her eyes glued to the stage, her lips tilted in a permanent smile. I’m glad she’s enjoying herself. This version of The Governess and the Rake may not be the kind of grand production normally hosted at one of the larger theaters, but it doesn’t make it any less worthy or impressive.

I lean ever closer and brush my gloved hand over the tear, gathering it on my fingertip. Her lashes flutter as she leans slightly into my touch, though her gaze remains fixed on Dolly’s dance. I lower my palm and place it between us.

Edwina’s hand leaves her lap at the same moment and lands on mine. She flinches, and I expect her to pull away. She doesn’t. My pulse quickens.

She spreads out her fingers, and I freeze, wondering if this is the moment she pulls away. Instead, her fingers lace through mine. I release a slow sigh, my mouth curving as I more securely take her hand.

All I can think of is Edwina. Even with gloves between us, our touching palms steal every inch of my awareness.

She has no reason to wish her breasts were anything but what they are. They’re fucking perfect.

That reminds me of something else. What kind of fae are you, William? Do you have an unseelie form?” I hesitate before I answer, and when I do, I draw out the word like a question. “Yes?”

She halts, hands on her hips. “That’s not a full answer. I asked you two questions. What kind of fae are you?” I mutter a groan

“Must I?” My reluctance only intrigues her. “I’m too curious not to know. All you said about it before is that you’re not a useful kind of fae. So what kind are you? If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you one of mine.”

Finally, a single pink petal sprouts from the center of my hand. Edwina gasps. Another petal forms. Then another. Soon my palm is filled with a pink peony, its petals unfurling in the delicate night breeze.

I hand it to Edwina and she cradles it in both hands. “I’m a flower fae,” I say without enthusiasm.

She blinks several times as she takes in my visage. Or, more specifically, the pink petals that line my eyelids. “This is my unseelie form,” I say, tone flat.

Her gaze finally leaves my face to scan down to my toes then up the length of me. When her eyes return to mine, she arches a questioning brow. “That’s all,” I say with a shrug.

“My birth mother was a flower sprite, but I didn’t inherit much from her or my father. Not every fae can shift fully into another form, especially those like me, born in later generations, closer to ...

All I’ve ever been able to do is make flowers and conjure pretty lashes.” I blink, and the weight of petals shift...

“Why do you seem ashamed?” she asks. “Why don’t you like talking abou...

“Like I said, it’s not very useful. Other fae actors have unseelie forms or fae magic that contribute to their roles. My biggest contr...

“That’s why you were cast as Gardener Number Three?” I release a mirthless chuckle. “It’s probably the only reason I re...

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Human actors don’t have anything but their own talents to recommend them to a role. And I wouldn’t call this useless...

My heart thuds heavily in my chest as I watch her admiring my work. My secret. What I don’t want to tell her is that I haven’t...

Edwina’s head whips back up, eyes narrowed. Her voice takes on an accusing tone. “Is this where the flower petals have been coming from?”

I blink my darker thoughts away and relish the distraction. My lips curl. “Whatever could you mean?” “You keep putting flower petals in that damn book of yours. One time I opened it and had an entire lapful of pink petals fall all over my skirt.”

I can’t help but laugh at her chagrin. “Does that also explain why you’re so quiet when you move? How you’ve been able to sneak up on me a fe...