“They say he is in love with her,” the Faerie woman continued. Mouse’s heart vaulted and stumbled. She could not help but lean in closer. The words caught the Faerie man’s attention, too. The feathers rose on his back. He brushed them absently, but the Faerie woman saw that she had piqued his interest. “Yes,in lovewith her. That’s why the King wants to be rid of him so badly. You know how he feels about things like that, after Viola. And I’m sure that is why the King banished the girl.”
In love with me?Mouse struggled with the thought.
Just before they were married, Mouse believed that he might have feelings for her. She knew now that she had feelings for him, despiteherself, especially after the night in the library. But how could he love her, after he had betrayed her? Even if he was a Faerie, Mouse felt that his treachery struck down any assurance of love.
Still, she remembered Thornwood stepping between her and the Faerie King, protecting her from the monarch’s magic. And he had enchanted the bag at John’s cottage. That magic must have taken a toll on him, when he was bound by the Faerie King and missing his source of power.
“Plebeian, mortal dilemmas,” the Faerie man said, and the Faerie woman nodded.
“They sent the hounds after her. I heard she was torn up just outside of town.”
The Faerie man scoffed, “Certainly not. I was there.”
The Faerie woman smiled, catlike in her glee.
“Oh yes. How could I forget?” she cooed. “You know it all, then. Tell me, and I can straighten the others out.”
“I see we have nothing more to say to one another,” he said. The Faerie man bowed before drifting away. The Faerie woman shrugged before throwing back the rest of her drink. Sparks drifted down around her face from the base of the cup. She opened her eyes while her lip rested on the rim and caught sight of Mouse. She lowered the cup, and her lips pulled apart in a vicious snarl.
“What are you looking at?” she growled.
Mouse froze, internally kicking herself for getting too caught up in their conversation. She searched her memory for anything useful and dove into her first idea.
“Please forgive me, ma’am,” she said. She plastered on her best local accent. It was a horrible imitation, somewhere between the village baker and a pirate, but Mouse hoped that the Faerie woman would not know the difference. “I meant no harm.”
Mouse did not need to fake the fear in her voice.
“Spying, were you?” the Faerie woman asked.
“Oh, no, ma’am. I was stunned by your beauty, is all.” The Faerie woman preened slightly at that, and Mouse continued. “I feel so foolish, but I wanted a glimpse of the beautiful Fae folk I’d heard tell of since I was a child.”
The woman opened her arms wide, putting her soft pink gown on display. It was slightly more modern, like Mouse’s, with pale jewels crusted over the bodice. “And?”
“You are beyond my imaginings, ma’am,” Mouse said, dipping into a curtsy.
“And him?” she asked, pointing her chin to the Faerie man who’d just left. He was leaning next to another Faerie woman with gossamer wings and a bear mask.
“Perhaps he might be to someone else’s taste, my lady.” Mouse wrinkled her nose.
The Faerie woman laughed. “I like you, even if you are a little fool for venturing into the spider’s web. You had best go before someone less forgiving catches you.”
A pinch of relief mixed with Mouse’s adrenaline. She had taken a chance when counting on Faerie vanity, and it seemed that it paid off.
“I cannot leave until I see the Faerie King, ma’am.”
The Faerie woman laughed again. “Looking for death, are you?”
“No, my lady. I promised my brother I would see if the tales about the Faerie King are true.”
She waited, her heart thrumming in her ears.
“Very well, I’m hardly going to stand in the way of an amusement. Just do not beg me for your life when he catches you.”
Mouse bowed, but the Faerie woman had already flounced off, searching for another glass of the star drink. Taking her chance, Mouse darted into a busier section of the crowd.
She plucked an abandoned silver mask off a table and tied it on quickly, hoping that the owner would not miss it before Mouse completed her task. She scanned the room for Thornwood.
The Faerie dances were half minuet, half dance-of-their-own-making. It was hard for Mouse to predict how they would move. She found herself dodging dancers and revelers equally. Luckily, the star liquid kept most of them occupied, and the others were focused intently on one another. Each Faerie had a fiery look to cast at someone. Whether it was a look of love or hate, it did not seem to matter much to them.