We pass the east gate of Oakhall.

Gion stirs awake, rubbing his eyes. "Ah, it'd been so long. My grandmother lives over by the West Gate, perhaps I may visit her."

I nod my head since I can't talk. The glamour is still in effect.

I have so many questions to ask Goodfellow but I doubt he'll answer any of them. He pulls the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding his distinct red hair.

He reaches back and pulls mine up too. "Do not think of me as harsh," he said as he manoeuvred the mare through the streets. "The Waif is not someone you can speak to lightly. Her words are her price. If you had asked her anything, she would exact a great toll."

I nod again even though he can't see it.

I felt chills as I recalled her words. I didn't want to ponder my future. I would prefer it if it stayed a mystery.

I closed my eyes, pushing her words out of my mind. I couldn't dwell upon them.

I had to find Darien. That was my mission.

We didn't stop anywhere. I watched as the colourful stalls passed us by. Smells of spice and sugar after through the air mixed in with the scent of ash.

The palace with its gleaming silver roof grew closer and closer till we reached its silver gates. Flowers and vines intertwined through the small arches. On top of the gate was a pair of birds, one silver and one red, resting side by side.

The red one chirped, its head turning to notice us before it spread its wings and flew away. The silver one stays, grooming its feathers and paying no mind to us.

Soldiers in gold armour let us through. They each wore helmets that obscured their faces completely. Their armour was less ornamental than the ones I saw during Oberon's Hunt.

The mare stopped at the base of the white-marbled steps, pawing at the ground as Goodfellow slipped off her back. A man in a robin blue coat waited on him. His hair was as dark as his eyes and his skin was almost a light pink hue.

"You must be faster," Goodfellow said, noticing how slowly I was moving.

He held me by the waist and set me down onto the solid ground. The mare bayed, pawing the ground once more with her massive hooves.

"Thank you, old friend." He ran his fingers through her darkened mane. "Tell her goodbye, child."

I felt the seams of the glamour pop. "Thank you," I said, petting her nose. "You're very beautiful."

The mare snorted, pleased with my answer before rearing her head and galloping away.

Goodfellow turned to the man, bowing his slightly.

"Lord Silas, always a pleasure."

Lord Silas smiled. His teeth were sharpened points like a shark. "Lord Goodfellow, you grace us with your presence and you've bought a little pet."

I made a small sound, something like a hiccup as Lord Silas regarded me.

"Not to play with." Goodfellow put his arm out in front of me. "She's my new maidservant. The last one drowned herself in a creek."

"Oh, how unfortunate." Silas clicked his tongue. "You've always been so fond of your pets."

I really didn't want to know the details. I could pick up on the fact that Silas had a glaring neon headboard over his head that said to 'stay away.'

I fell in step behind them, quietly listening to their gossip.

The palace was beautiful, cut with marble and dark oak wood. The carpets were a lush red that sank as I walked over them. The gardens were huge, framed by the giant glass windows that covered the whole courtyard.

Fae in swaths of silk and crepe walked past us. They whispered amongst themselves, their smirks hidden away. I could feel my arms and back stinging as we passed a pair of gentlemen, dressed in dark green as they snickered to themselves. They had tails like a cat and ears that pointed towards the ceiling.

Goodfellow abruptly turned around, his eyes flashing gold as their tails singed and then caught on fire. They yelped and hurried down to the hall, out of sight.

I giggled, enjoying the sounds of their howls.

"Hmmph! Children these days have no sense of humour." He huffed, turning back around.

We came to a stop in front of a pair of white wood doors. An oak tree with a pair of flanking it was carved into it. One bird is red and the other silver.

Yup.

That was definitely strange.

Silas opened the doors. "Her Majesty waits for you, my Lord."

"Let's get this over with," he murmured, "Follow me, child. Stay behind me and do not utter a word unless I say so."

We walk into the main chamber where the throne room is. The room is a large dome with murals of forest animals adorning it, the gold paint catches the light of the sun. A long carpet cuts through the room, leading to a small set of stairs and a stage where two thrones sit.

One is smaller than the other, silver and delicate as it's decorated with silver flowers as it lays empty. The other throne is large and gold, oak leaves and vines snake across the gold base forming a small halo at the head.

In it sits a beautiful woman in a red dress trimmed with actual gold. Her features are sharp, her hair spun of ink, her skin dark and her eyes magenta. She carries an aura of regality. She looks like a knife wrapped in blood rather than in velvet. I feel like I'll cut myself if I look at her directly.

Goodfellow bows deeply in front of her, his red hair sweeping forward and obscuring his face. Silas does the same and I follow him.

"My Queen," he purrs. "You look marvellous upon our king's throne. You eclipse the sun with your beauty."

Her lip curls upward, maring her otherwise beautiful face. "Goodfellow, you dare to arrive late?" She hisses out. "To your own kin's execution no less."

"Forgive the transgressions of your most loyal servant." He said, still bowing. "I had the honour of witnessing our king passing through my land. I had no choice but to delay my departure. As for my grandson, you have summoned me to witness such an unfortunate sight. It was my assumption that you would show the same mercy as our king."

Translation: How fucking dare you, you soul-sucking bitch?

"Your grandson knew the repercussions of entering the Fae Realm."

Translation: Do I look like I care?

Goodfellow stood back up to his full height, his green robes wrapped around himself like a sleeve. I could tell from the set of his shoulders that he was holding back his anger. He wasn't the only one, and so was I.

He smiled placidly, his hands folded in front of him. "And what of the Princess?" He asked.

Translation: I can play this game too, wench.

"An unfortunate event," the Queen said in the same tone but she tapped her finger on the gilded armrest with her blood-red nails. "If she returns then she too will be executed for her disobedience."

Disobedience? Fallon didn't have a choice in returning. Hell, she didn't even ask. She was just taken. Anger rose in my chest along with bile and I swallowed it back down because I wasn't allowed to say anything.

Good grief, this was exhausting. A tennis match was less boring than this.

Goodfellow wasn't satisfied with that answer. Several of the other faes in the room murmured amongst themselves, their whispers carrying through the room.

Ha. Politics.

"I'm afraid I must challenge your decision, my queen," Goodfellow said. His feral grin was terrifying.

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrow. "Are you really willing to risk your honour for some...Faeling?" She spat the last word out like it was poison in her mouth.

"He is my kin and your order to arrest him has marred upon my honour as a loyal subject. I could care less for his vow to an exiled princess. My concern is to rectify this error." Goodfellow announced. "I demand retribution."

The queen leaned forward, her magenta eyes dancing at the thought of blood spilt. The prospect was tempting. Her dark hair spilt from her shoulders, draping at her feet like pools of ink. "Then let us duel by proxy. It is the only fair way to settle things, don't you say?"

I could feel the crowd behind me ripple in excitement.

"I couldn't agree more," he nodded his head. "We shall discuss the terms but first we'll decide upon our champions."

The queen chuckled, her laughter vibrating through the room with power and control. "I will pick the same champion but what of you, Lord Goodfellow? Who will you choose?"

"I have brought my champion." He turned around, staring at me. I could feel the eyes of the entire throne room on my skin along with the queens. "She is my champion."