I don't how long we travelled.

It could've been hours or minutes, I could tell. Time seemed to work differently. The mare slowed down and the world snapped back into focus.

I leaned over, my stomach churning. Magical travel didn't suit me or my stomach.

"Do not be sick," Goodfellow said.

The feeling of nausea faded away. "Where are we?"

Goodfellow whipped his head around to look at me while my stomach churned uncomfortably.

"If you're going to be sick, I suggest you get off." He said.

I slapped a hand over my mouth as I stumbled off the mare and ran into the underbrush where I proceeded to hurl. I just hoped that the tree I was emptying my breakfast on wasn't offended.

I could worry about that later.

I braced one arm on the tree bark, retching as I felt the back of my throat tighten uncomfortably.

Gion was on my shoulder, pulled my braid back. "He should've been more gentle, my lady."

I scoff, tasting bile. "Godamn magical travel."

I take a swig of water from the waterpouch, swishing it in my mouth before spitting it out. Normally I would be horrified by my 'lack of propriety' but I could care less. Magic and I didn't mix well.

Goodfellow is still atop the mare as I stomp my way back to him. He runs a pale hand through her mane, twisting the strands through his fingers. I can hear him murmuring to the mare as I approach him.

"Oh, good," he says, offering me a hand. "I thought something had eaten you."

I take his hand which is cold due to the morning air. I settle behind him, firmly keeping my hands to my side. "Then which unfortunate human would you find to help Darien?" I retort.

He snaps the reins, signalling the mare to move forward. "There's always a few unfortunate humans laying about," he said. "Humans can't leave or enter the Relam without the assistance of the faefolk but some manage to stumble in."

"How's that possible?"

"Fae and humans are not destined to be together...and yet somehow we have Faelings."

"You mentioned that word before. Is Darien one?"

The mare's ears swish backwards. Goodfellow reached out and patted her neck, soothing her. "Yes, like my unfortunate great-grandson. He is a quarter fae on his father's side while the princess is half fae. Some humans have a few drops of fae blood but it's far too diluted to be of use but it's enough for them to gain access to the Realm."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"I'm bored." He said. "And you listen. Most humans are far too..." he trails off, trying to find the word.

I chuckle. "Dumb? Inquisitive? Annoying?" I supply. I don't really mean it but I think it's what he wants to hear.

"Perhaps all three may apply." He shrugs. "Some humans have a knack for being too smart for their own good. Although, it's rare to outsmart a fae."

"So...who outsmarted you?"

"That's a little rude."

I decide not to push my luck and quickly diverge the topic. I won't have a chance to ask questions.

"One more question," I say, tugging on his sleeve.

"Very well. I may as well indulge you." He huffs, tossing his hair back.

"Can you tell me about the courts?"

"Shouldn't you be more specific, child?" I couldn't see his face but his tone set me on edge. "That question alone could land you into a deal with an eager fae. Rephrase your question in a way where you have nothing to owe me."

I pause, mulling over the words in my mind. Even though I worked in editing, I was never really gifted with words. Fallon often teased me that I could be blunt without meaning to.

"Since you obviously know more than I do...and I have a limited knowledge about the courts of the fae realm, could you elaborate, oh great wise one?"

"Hmm, you could definitely use some improvement and a little less sarcasm." He sighs exasperatedly.

Goodfellow had a flare for the dramatic that I was more than glad Darien didn't inherit.

"Please?"

"Very well. I will say this once so please do not ask me again." He cleared his throat. "There are four continents in the Fae Realm, none of which have names except for the courts and kingdoms that have carved them up. The four major courts inhabit each continent; summer, winter, spring, autumn and so on. The largest of these courts is summer which we are currently travelling through."

"Who's in charge of summer?"

His mouth twists into an unattractive scowl, "King Oris and his hellhound of a wife Queen Shayla. At present, she's running the summer Court while Oris is away on Oberon's Hunt."

"Not so great, huh?" I racked my brain, wondering where I'd heard that before, "What's Oberon Hunt?"

I can see the trees starting to thin around us, the sunlight filtering through to the floor.

"King Oberon established the Summer Court aeons ago, unfortunately, the fool got himself cursed and every few years or so, the King of the Summer Court is compelled to hunt to appease the curse. It's a ruthless endeavour. No sanity, no order. Just hunting like a rabid wolf."

I squeeze my eyes remembering the scent of dogs, the bays of the hounds, and a pair of frightened eyes in a bloodied face looking at me.

The smell of blood lingered like a stench.

I felt like throwing up all over again.

"What about the other courts?" I ask.

"The Court of Winter has Queen Cora, The Spring Court has three rulers; Queen Renis and her consorts, The human Grace and the Fae Lorien. A unique system but who am I to judge? And finally the court of Autumn, a truly boring court ruled by the equally boring King Mercer."

Alright, that's an interesting take.

"Gion mentioned the Court of Midnight took Fallon—I mean, the princess?"

"Are you normally this curious?"

I shrug. "Yeah."

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes. "The Court of Midnight was formed out of the Court of Darkness. Don't ask me to elaborate because there's no time. All you need to know is that if you find yourself entangled with them there's little anyone can do. As unpleasant the Winter Court is, even they can hardly reign them in."

That makes sense but I remember another piece of land on the map that I had used when I entered the Fae Realm. It had no colour or name to it, just a large piece of land floating in the sea.

Before I could ask any more questions, the mare crossed past vestiges of the tree lines, plunging us into the warm sun. She stopped, tossing her head. I gripped onto the back of Goodfellows' robes.

I peeked out behind him. We were in a sea of grass that moved like waves as the breeze blew past us. The darkness of the forest gave way leaving only light.

I squinted my eyes. In the far distance, there was a giant bay, its shores littered with small fishing boats and its wave a deep unusual blue. At the crown of the bay sat a gleaming city, tall and white and impossible to name in size.

I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I was hallucinating. The tallest part of the city was its towering limestone walls and the steeple of the palace that stood at the centre of the city.

So this is what a fae city looked like.

It was like something out of a video game.

I could hear the gulls as we made our way through the sea of grass following a paved Whitestone road. Several wagons and tents were strewn along the path to the city. Goblins cooked rabbits over a fire, a pixie darted through the air as it tried to pull my hair but was shooed away by Goodfellow, and a red cap eyed me menacingly as it sharpened its jagged knife.

"Welcome to Oakhall, child," Goodfellow said, noticing my awed expression. "The crown jewel of the Summer Court."

There were so many different types of Faefolk here. Once they saw Goodfellow with his green billowing robes and his large mare, they quickly jumped out of the way and offered their greetings that he ignored.

Something wrapped its spindly fingers around my ankle and tried to pull me off. I yelped as I nearly lost my balance.

Goodfellow reached behind me and grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip. "What is the meaning of this, Morrigan?"

A thin, waif-like woman had her hand on my ankle. She was impossibly pale almost a hair breath away from a corpse-like state. Her silver hair was piled atop her head in a mess of braids and ornaments.

What scared me the most was her eyes. She had no irises. Only the whites of their eyes were there.

"My Lord Goodfellow, what do you carry?" She said in a soft voice.

"It is of no concern," he sniffed. "Unhand my maidservant or you'll lose that arm of yours."

She tilted her head, causing the ornaments in her hair to clink against each other. Morrigan—or whatever she liked to be called—reminded me of a barn owl.

"Such a strange thing," she mused, her voice still low. "Such an unfortunate future."

I pulled my leg away. "What does that—?"

"Silence!" Goodfellow hissed. I felt his glamour pull the seams of my mouth closed, muffling the rest of my question. "Speak only when I tell you to, child!"

I squeezed my hands into a fist and refused the urge to kick him.

Morrigan pulls away, the skirts of her white dress billow out behind her like moth wings. "The Queen awaits you, Lord Goodfellow. But I wonder if she is only the beginning of your troubles."

Goodfellow growls in frustration and snaps the reins, urging the mare forward. We move at breakneck speed, past the guard towers and the other faefolk.

As we cross past the giant Oak Doors, I turn around.

Morrigan is a tiny speck of white in the distance but I can still feel her gaze on me.