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but those who have it all are often oblivious to their luck.
Sybille and Phoebus aren’t aware I haven’t been invited, and I haven’t dared confess it for fear it’ll alter their plans, or worse, that it won’t.
“I’d never take money from you, Fallon.” He says this so gently that his tone alone calms my stuttering heart. “Rossi women are always welcome aboard my boat.”
“It’s an acquired taste.” “How long did it take you to acquire it?” She laughs. “A while.”
Even when I was still debating whether I preferred males or females, I never preferred him. His ego was as large as all of Tarelexo.
Ah, our meet-cute was light on the cute and heavy on the pungency.
“You’re a prince. The prince. And I’m . . . I’m the girl from the wrong side of the canal with the curved ears. That’s what she sees. That’s what the world sees.”
“You mentioned nights. What about my days? Don’t you want to spend those with me?” He moves into my space again and spears his long fingers through my hair. “I didn’t mention daytime because it’s filled with work.”
“He’s going to break your heart.” Maybe. I choose to believe he won’t, though. I choose to believe that the only reason he’s still entertaining other women is because he doesn’t think I can be it for him.
I spot Minimus writhing, trying to get the knife out of his cheek.
“The man’s a pig, Nonna. I take that back. It’s unfair to pigs.”
“At least my heart beats, Nonna. That’s more than I can say about yours some days.”
“My friend needed me. Friends always trump boyfriends.”
“You bet that I’d have a threesome with a prince and a fisherman?” He grins. “A Fae can dream.” “You dream of me with two men?” “In my dream, I’m the one standing in your shoes.”
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“What does rank have to do with bedroom skills?” “Everything. Entitled men feel they’re owed everything and they’re doing you a favor for sleeping with you.”
“Um, what do my boots have to do with you becoming a duke?” “If you bag a prince, I expect a full ride to Isolacuori.”
“I just told you these predators gobbled down Fae hearts, and you’re confounded by the snipping of their extremities?”
“You know what? Let’s do it!” My next exhale wedges itself inside my throat, and I cough. “It’ll piss off my parents to no end and get rid of the embodiment of my nightmares. Like a cleansing of sorts.”
“Might you be interested in joining us tonight? We were looking for an extra cock to spice things up.”
Pockets are for people who cannot afford extra accoutrements.
When I was younger, I asked Nonna why no god was female. She explained it was to cow women into believing they are less and help men feel like they are more.
“Perhaps because, unlike certain lords, beasts do not feel threatened by me, Maezza.”
“How many women have you kissed?” He releases my waist. “It’s not the same.” “Why? Because you’re a man?” His cheek flutters again. “Have you lost count?” “I’ve never kept count.” “And yet you frown upon my trifling experience?”
because I’m closer to weeping than I am to climaxing.
“By a man who doesn’t believe me a fool for loving a prince and who doesn’t believe I will amount to nothing because I came from nothing.”
Oh the look Nonna will wear when she spots me sitting on the Lucin throne.
“Steel that sweet heart of yours, Fallon, or our world will end up licking away all of its honey.”
If I die, I’ll have no head to crown and no heart to give.
“Kahol Bannock is my father?”
What if it isn’t the ear-culling that broke her mind but this man? What if he was a monster who forced himself upon her? Who destroyed her by putting me inside her womb?
When they solidify, they are no longer two but one. A single bird that’s twice as large . . . everywhere. Its iron talons are almost the size of my fingers, and its beak looks like it could slip through my throat and come out the other side.
“The throne? What an ambitious woman you are.”
“This is insane.” “I take it Bronwen told you little about me.” “Bronwen told me nothing about you. I thought I was collecting statues, not magical birds that can send visions and speak.”
“Your beak doesn’t move, so how are you making noise? Are you—what are those court entertainers called again?—a ventriloquist?”
You are Cathal’s daughter, which makes you a Báeinach, but if you prefer to wear a punishing general’s name, then I will abide by your wishes.
So focused was I on my task that I didn’t take a moment to gaze out over the kingdom that’ll someday be mine.
The baptismal groove may stem from Lucin folklore, but my name just may stem from Crow lore.
“I’m risking my life to save yours.” You’re risking your life to conquer your beloved prince’s heart. I’m merely a stepping stone on your path.
Not yet, but rest assured, Fallon, that anyone who so much as wishes you harm will be dealt with accordingly.
“Have you ever had a crow girlfriend?” His eyes return to me. I had many female friends. “Because of your status, or is there actual charm beneath that gruff exterior of yours?”
You know, after I’m arrested and dragged to the dungeon.” I tip my head to the side. “Right before Dante saves me and makes me his queen.”
Impressive. “What is? Her manner of torture, or her ability to take lives without a care in the world?” Neither. I’m impressed by how the Fae have turned the Shabbins into veritable creatures of nightmares.
“That makes her my . . .? Oh my Gods, Bronwen’s my aunt?”
Although women claim themselves capable of doing two things at once, this skill obviously passed me by, same as my Fae power.
In the home of a friend. I’m tempted to say, you have friends?
Signore Moody seems moodier than usual.
It’s quite unfair that he got to wear clothes while I popped over in my birthday suit.
“Your bird sent me. I guess he wanted to introduce us. Not sure why he shipped me over naked, though. Perhaps it’s symbolic?”
They don’t suspect you. Don’t take offence, Behach Éan, but releasing the barrage isn’t in the realm of your capacities.
“Usually, it’s the undressing that leads to companionship, not the dressing,” I mutter under my breath.
