Chapter 4

FOUR

Cassia

Tears gather in my eyes as I storm down the street, sadness and anger competing against one another in my heart. This job was already my last resort. There's nothing I'm skilled enough at to actually make a living doing. Not when fae are always better at everything than humans. We take the lowest of the low jobs, jobs that they don't want, and I'd just lost one of those jobs. Who else would have me after being fired by the fae?

No one, that's for sure.

And I wasn't stupid. I knew Lady Takara and her fuck buddy framed me just to make sure I wasn't in the palace and couldn't spread the rumor about how I found them.

Dumbasses. I was never going to tell anyone, and they still ruined my life.

The fae suck so hard they should have puckered assholes.

I pass The Velvet Sands, the most popular brothel in the Summer Court. My stomach churns and knots form in every muscle in my body. For my father and grandmother, I'd do anything. Which might just mean applying for a job. Selling my body in a way I'll never be able to come back from.

With the way the fae treat humans, the ones they can use like rags in the brothel get it even worse, if half the rumors I've heard are true. Being a whore in the Summer Court would mean having my body broken and bruised. Allowing my pain to give pleasure to the worst of the fae… the ones who pay to touch humans when they have so many other choices.

More fire stings my eyes. I clench my jaw and continue walking. If I can't think of a better place, I'll have to go and beg for a job before we go too long without food. The decision will likely need to be made by morning.

Decision? I want to laugh. There is no decision. I've been marked by losing my job with the fae. That Takara bitch had made certain that I'd be lucky if the brothel let me work for them.

Lucky to be broken. Lucky to be violated.

I turn down a tree-lined path, wanting to get away from the hustle and bustle of the main street to clear my head. It's a small relief to be out of the scorching sun under the trees. A chance to get my emotions under control. I don't want what happened to be written all over my face when I walk into my house and see my grandmother and father.

The only thing that could make what I have to do tomorrow worse is if they found out. They will eventually–rumors fly after all–but I'll try to keep this from them for as long as possible.

It takes effort to practice smiling as I walk. To blink the tears from my eyes. But nothing I do eases the tightness in my chest.

I wish I could wake up from this nightmare.

Heart racing, I pinch myself, just in case, but nothing changes. The terrible feeling in my gut builds. Why am I even walking home? I should be going straight to the brothel. The only difference between today and tomorrow will be how hungry I am.

Pausing beneath a tree, I take several deep breaths and think of my grandmother and father. My family. If I'm not home this evening, they'll wonder. They've been through enough and don't need to worry about me or how we'll survive. If I'm going to take this next step, I'll need to come up with an idea to explain my change in schedule.

I need a night to sleep on things and come up with a plan. The second the thought comes to me, some of the tension eases from my chest. A night. That's all I need. I don't have to do anything tonight.

"Right." I laugh. "Tomorrow I can decide all this whore business."

With my resolve restored, I keep walking. This might not be a good plan, but it's a plan. The thought of a cruel fae's hands biting into my flesh, slapping my face, and ramming into me makes me stagger. But I right myself and keep going, trying to forget the sight of the bruised and battered whores wincing as they walk out of the brothel.

If that's my future, I'll handle it. I'll handle whatever I have to for my family.

My steps come surer as I walk, even though a coldness fills my belly. All I hear are my footsteps on the dirt path. All I see is the flickering of light between leaves as they shift on the ground, and the wind playing on the leaves like today is any other day.

Like the world doesn't realize that my life got turned upside down today.

I suddenly sense that I'm not alone. My blade is in my hand before I can even think about it. I try not to change my stride, just like my grandmother always taught me, keeping my pace even until I'm absolutely sure I'm not alone. Someone is watching me from somewhere, and I'll be damned if I let them take me by surprise.

Holding my blade out in front of me, I turn in a quick circle, then crouch, surveying my surroundings. There's nothing. No movement. But I know I'm not alone. Either that, or I've started to lose my mind. I'm going to bet on the not alone thing though.

"I will gut you before you get anywhere near me," I growl, every muscle in my body tense. Waiting. Watching.

Out of nowhere, Prince Sulien appears, leaning against a tree in front of me. I barely manage to swallow down a scream of shock, but I manage it before clenching my blade tighter. Everyone knows powerful fae can teleport, but I've never seen one do it before. From what I understand, it's considered rude to use the power in front of others. Probably because it'd be unsettling just teleporting around others like an asshole.

Hell, what's he doing here? Haven't I had enough bad luck?

I don't say that though. I just study him. Staying crouched, staying ready. It seems these damned fae aren't done with me yet, but if he thinks I'm going to take whatever this is lying down, he's wrong .

"Prince Sulien," I greet, trying to keep my voice respectful, and failing.

His mouth twitches, but whether I pissed him off or amused him, I can't tell. The damn man is impossible to read.

When he doesn't respond, I let my gaze run over him. His long legs could be tree trunks themselves with how large and thick they are. Under his dark clothes, I know they are sinewy and sun-kissed, and the memory of him before his bath dances in my memories no matter how much I wish to erase it. His chest, his huge arms, all of it is impossible to forget, but I want to. I've officially decided I hate fae. All of them. But he makes it hard to remember.

"Is there something you need?" I ask, spinning my blade for a minute before stopping it.

His gaze shifts to the dagger in my hand. "Your grandmother's lessons on weapons and fighting are still with you, I see."

"Oh, so you do remember my grandmother?" My voice drips with accusation. I've already been fired. What do I have to lose?

"I remember your grandmother was a good tutor before losing her sight. I remember that she tried to hide what was going on instead of being honest with my father and me." He's expressionless, unaffected by how that one day set my never-ending streak of bad luck in motion.

I chew on my bottom lip in frustration. "Yes, because telling the fae you can't do your job anymore always ends with empathy."

He lifts a brow. "Lying's the one thing my father doesn't tolerate from anyone…except for himself." He mutters that last part, but I catch it.

I meet his eyes, a scowl on my face. "Great walk down memory lane. Anything else I can help you with? Or can I go?"

He grins at me, his dark eyes shining in the sunlight that peeks through the trees. "I saw you get fired."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "You saw me get set up, but that doesn't really matter, does it? I was fired from the Summer Court. I no longer serve you or your family, so I guess we're done here." I do my most exaggerated bow before standing tall and walking past him.

"I have a proposition," he calls after me, his voice as smooth as silk.

"Proposition?" My back goes as steel as a rod.

I glance back at him, trying to ignore the fury weaving through my blood. What kind of proposition can he possibly offer me? He's a fae prince who doesn't give a crap about me, so it'd only be something that helps him out. And what could I possibly help him with?

He flashes the smallest smile, and I feel the blood drain from my face. Right. That.

"I am not a whore," I tell him through clenched teeth.

Not yet, at least. An image of The Velvet Sands flashes in my mind, and I shudder. Maybe the prince will be able to pay my fee in another night or so, and he'll get what he wants without even having to follow me home.

"Perhaps proposition was the wrong word. How about a proposal?" he counters, unmoving. That smile of his gone, replaced by his mask of indifference.

Proposal? Proposition? It all seems to mean the same thing.

My heart pounds in my ears. "A proposal now? Is this… some kind of joke?"

Was losing my job really not enough? He's playing with me now? A proposal for sex? For something awful? What the fuck does he want from me?

"No, when I said proposal, I meant proposal. This isn't a job. This is me asking you to be my wife." There's not an ounce of amusement in his face.

"Your wife? Oh, sure. But why stop at that? I could rule all the fae." Sarcasm oozes off of my words as I try to figure out what the hell his angle is.

"I'm serious." He pushes away from the tree and walks toward me. When I take a couple of steps back, he stops. "I can take care of your family. Move them into the palace. Treat them like the royalty they'll become. All you have to do is become my queen."

"Queen of what? Scrubbing your underwear?" I laugh, shaking my head.

His eyes harden. "Queen of the Summer Court."

My brain feels like it's swimming through words, facts, and ideas that don't make sense. "Don't you have to meet your mate tonight at the ball or something? Isn't that how you're supposed to find your queen?" I don't understand how he can ask me to marry him. Fae don't do that. That's a human custom.

You know, if there was even a reason for a fae prince to be asking his human maid to marry him. Another bubble of nearly hysterical laughter threatens to explode from my throat. This can't be real. This is some kind of trap or fae game. I just know it.

He sighs, his handsome face betraying nothing of what he thinks or feels. "We do have the Solstice Ball tonight, where magic should determine my mate. It's a whole production…"

"So, then, what are you doing? Go to your… ball."

He starts moving toward me, and this time I stay still, not willing to run from him any further. The fae prince moves until we can almost touch, and then his voice comes out no louder than a whisper. "I have a spell. A powerful one that will make it seem like you're my mate. All I have to do is drink a potion with you in my arms." His long, black hair flows in the breeze, making it impossible to ignore the pure beauty of the man as he speaks.

But I try to pull my thoughts back to his words. He wants to use a spell to make me appear to be his mate. The whole point of the ball is for the magic of the evening to connect the fae princes and their mates. You know, along with helping the other fae find their mates, but no one cares much about that. The person the magic connects them to is more than a bride, a wife, or a partner. They're the person the prince is destined to be with forever. There's no logical reason why any prince shouldn't want that.

So what the hell is this?

I stare up at him, craning my neck to look into his auburn eyes, taking him all in, my thoughts tangling together. "Why? Why would you want to do this?"

His expression becomes even more guarded if possible, his jaw tightening as he seems to choose his words with care. "I want to be king and rule the Summer Court. Nothing more. I don't want the rituals and customs. I don't want the ceremony. I don't want a wife or children. I don't want any of it." He turns his gaze to the treetops. "I'd never touch you. I'd never hurt you. You'll be my wife in public only. We will show up together at important events where the king and queen are expected. The marriage will be a convenience: you helping me and me helping you."

I'm without words. This proposal makes no sense. I stare up at him, and his genuine countenance pulls at something inside of me. He's desperate, I realize. But how can that be when this man could have anyone he wanted? He has to have a thousand other women he'd be better off asking.

Yet, if my life paths are currently divided–one being me working at a whorehouse and the other being me as queen of the Summer Court–maybe I shouldn't dismiss this insanity so quickly.

"How can a spell make it seem like we're fated to be together? I know you're a powerful fae, but I've never heard of anyone being that powerful."

"The spell will work," he tells me simply. "That I have no doubt."

"But I'm human," I whisper, watching his face, wondering if anything I say will be something he hasn't thought of. "No one will believe it. I don't have any fae blood. Not a drop of it."

"No one can ever truly know that they don't have any… and even just a little fae blood can make a match. All the people of the courts need to believe is that you have just a little, and they will… because this spell is unlike anything anyone has ever seen before. As far as they know, no spell can do this, so they won't even question our match." His dark gaze intensifies, and my pulse quickens.

He wants an answer now, but I can't give him that.

"Why don't you want to find your real mate? Why lie to all the royal fae? To the whole world?" It's a risky move. One that may end up with me being punished and nothing happening to him.

"I just don't." The bite in his voice lets me know this subject is off-limits.

But why? Why doesn't he want a real mate? Why have me simply play the part?

"Look." There's just a touch of annoyance in his deep voice. Pleading, apparently, isn't his strong suit. "Your father is sick. I went to your house first. I saw him. Those potions you're spending so much money on are actually weakened. Whoever you're getting them from is diluting their power. The first two or three doses should have cured him completely."

"Dilluting the potions? You fae are sick bastards!" I shout, angry at everyone all at once.

I've been working myself to the bone for those potions, and they've been making them weaker on purpose? My father could have been doing better already, but those pieces of shit decided he wasn't worth it? They were just fine with my father suffering?

He looks unaffected by my reaction. "Agree to this, and your father and your grandmother will have a life they can't even dream of. He'll have a real cure."

It all sounds too good to be true, which means it probably is.

When I just stare, he continues, "All three of you will spend your lives in luxury with anything you could want and more. And you and me… that will only be pretend. This question shouldn't even be a question."

There's a desert in my throat. There's really no logical reason to say no, so why can't I say yes?

"There's an outfit for the ball on your bed. If you show up tonight, I'll know you agree, and we'll be mated. If not, I'll find my true mate and do what is required of me to be king." He winces then and, without another word, vanishes, leaving me alone again.

I let out a deep breath, and my thoughts become clearer. No one ever gives something for nothing. Ever. That's not how life works. He wants me to be his queen, to live a life with nothing required of me.

If it sounds too good to be true, then that's what it is.

He looked and sounded genuine, like he was telling me his truth, but I can't help but wonder what the real truth is. Why marry a human when you can have your true mate? Why lie to everyone and accept a fake relationship?

The outside world is quiet as I continue my walk home, but my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and questions and scenarios. I imagine what my life will be if I accept the prince's proposal. Instead of cleaning the rooms of the palace for balls and parties, I'd be hosting them. A human in charge of the Summer Court palace. It's unfathomable. It's most people's dream come true.

So why am I hesitating?

Can I really be Queen of the Summer Court, the most powerful human in the land ever, even though I'm the last person who deserves it? And do I even really have a choice? I let the thoughts simmer as I make my way through the woods, knowing that I need to pull it together and make a decision soon. Tonight.

I'm fucked.