What Comes of Attending the Commoners Ball

by Elisabeth Aimee Brown

“If you had any respect for the Folk, you’d understand,” I say, tucking my chin down to my chest. “Gifts are how they trap you.” The Folk are not kind to humans in their debt.

“You are a child,” I retort. “A spoiled little boy who needs to learn what no means.”

Has one of your parents ever exhibited signs of being a changeling? Does your father seem to have too many teeth?”