9. Seven Seasons

Later that night, I find James eating alone on the balcony. He motions for me to join him, and I scoot over to his table with a meat and cheese plate in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other. "Hi."

He lays down his utensils beside his half-eaten meal. "Hi."

I scout the rest of the balcony, but we're alone. It's a bit unnerving still to be eating, unchaperoned, with any man, but James' energy puts me at ease. "Where is Mara?"

"I don't know."

Mara sets me on edge. For all I know, they're both working for the king. I watch James' calm face for a moment, and the silence stretches into awkwardness.

"How did you end up here, Nell? I thought that people from the old world despised the Fae," he finally asks, his gaze fixed on the tablecloth, not meeting mine. "Are you here…you know…of your own free will?

The word despised sparks an itch between my eyes. "Why? Are you here against your will?" I keep my voice low not to let my cards show quite yet.

"Not exactly. I'm scared, to be honest, but I chose to come. Magic in my world is considered by most not to exist, so I didn't quite fit in. I've been pegged as a freak my whole life, and I wanted to learn…"

He looks sincere enough for me to relax. "Magic is very important in my realm, but it usually comes from our goddess' grace, reserved for her most devoted servants. Not from…sin."

A flicker of understanding shines on his somber face. "I'm religious, too, though I suspect not as much as you are. In the new world, spirituality sort of took a backseat to everyday life. For most people, anyway."

A current of energy ripples through the air, and goosebumps rise the skin at the back of my neck. Like a moth to a flame, my mortal gaze flicks to the dark and familiar silhouette heading straight for us.

Three…

My hunch that he was identical to his brothers is confirmed, and I swallow hard. Twins were creepy enough…but three identical men? That's a first.

One looks deadly, and Two seems cruel, but Three… Three moves like the villains in fairy tales—elegant and charismatic, yet dangerous. An iridescent mask covers everything but his mouth. Bewitching colors and patterns move with him, swirling into different shapes with every step.

He doesn't breathe a word as he immobilizes next to me, about five inches too close for comfort. A hot flush blooms on my cheeks, and I feel like he can not only see through his mask, but past my very skin into my most private desires.

He kisses the back of my offered hand with a secret smile that tells me all my hopes and dreams are his for the taking. By the Mother… When did I even raise my hand towards him?

After a few too many breaths, he draws back and turns his attention back on James, angling his chin to the side. Come, he seems to say.

"See you later, Nell." James waves goodbye and follows his alluring tutor down the stairs.

"Goodbye." I rub a sudden chill off my arms, wishing I could go with them.

Three's treacherous bite of power tingles along the sensitive skin of my neck for hours after he's gone, and I'm left all flustered, daydreaming about when I will see him next.

A few dayspass without me catching a glimpse of One, so I figure the dark Fae must not be very invested in my training. I feel slighted at first, then relieved—then slighted again.

Reading for hours on end, running, lifting weights, and shooting random targets with a crossbow, isn't what I pictured when Mother told me I would have to suffer the whims of the Shadow King and live in Faerie.

In the mornings, Mara, James, Lori, and I mostly train in the gardens. When the weather gets too hot, we grab breakfast—which is more like a lunch in Faerie—and take our studies inside, to the library or the gym.

Every day, Mara and James disappear with their mentors for a couple of hours, and Lori tends to the library from noon to midnight. Since I spend so much time among the stacks, we quickly develop a comfortable camaraderie, but she remains tight-lipped about the trials and the details of her past—so tight-lipped that I suspect someone chastised her after our first meeting.

The afternoon is well-advanced on the fifth day when I snap "America, A Quick Overview" shut and mark it as finished in my notebook. Feeling restless, I bite my lips, eager to learn more about Faerie, and peruse the catalogs again, but my choices are limited.

I only have access to a small part of the library since most stacks on the first floor are reserved for seeds that have spoken their vows. The entire second floor is meant for sprouts, and the third is separated into two sections between sepals and stigmas.

Jealousy and longing pulse in my chest. The forbidden books remind me of the restricted section in my father's library—most of it reserved only for men.

An intriguing history volume titled "Damian the Dauntless: The Rise of Our Dark Sovereign" is marked in the ledger as the go-to book for information about the Shadow King.

Lori is helping a High Fae find a specific poem for a woman he's courting at the very back of the room, and I tip-toe closer to them to make sure they're still in the thick of it.

By the desperate look on the sprout's face, their search is a long way from finished. Perfect.

I grip the oak banister and crouch to sneak upstairs. About halfway to the second floor, a treacherous step creaks under my weight, and I hurry to the second floor landing. The filing system is easy to follow, but sweat beads on my forehead when I find the thin, black spine of the book I plan to poach.

I hook my index finger over the trim and pull, but the book remains resolutely stuck in place, like a spell prevents me from sliding it out of the stack.

With a frown, I tug on it harder and zap it with a flare of shadow magic, but it stays put. Of course. No wonder Lori was so serene when she explained the rules.

While she tends to the needs of the occasional High Fae customer, her presence is not needed to guard the books—nor would it be sufficient.

Crestfallen, I hurry back downstairs and turn to my second-best choice, "Seven Seasons, Eight Eternities," and start to read. By the time my new friend returns to our shared reading nook, I'm the perfect picture of good behavior.

As dangerous as it is to lose myself for hours in Fae literature…it's also wonderful.

The Faerie seasons last for one to eight weeks each and include different rituals that rejuvenate the land's magic. Each court and kingdom are responsible for one of those seasonal ceremonies, and the courts themselves are divided into light and dark.

Alaveen, the festival of the Sun Court, is held at the beginning of the Fae year. Lanterns are released to the sky as a way to honor the Fae's deceased loved ones—a lovely tradition.

The Spring Court celebrates the thaw of winter. Love is in the air, married couples renew their unions, and the entire season sees an increase in fertility for Fae women.

St-John's Eve takes place in the Summerlands during the solstice, but I can't find any details about it.

The harvest season is called Foghar, and big parties are thrown with all matters of excess.

Morheim signals the triumph of shadows over light, and the days grow shorter in autumn until the sun doesn't rise in the Fae sky for seven to ten days.

Yule celebrates the winter solstice. It comes with a pageant during which the Winter King chooses a wife. He marries a new bride every year. Yikes!

The year ends with Scebaan, a mysterious ball hosted by the Storm Court.

So many exotic customs and intriguing details keep me awake until the wee hours of the night, my curiosity only growing as I uncover more details about these magical, eerie lands.