Fae Fiefdom - M. Sinclair Page 0,20

guess on who usually drove Bard to school? Yes. That would be me. I was done being a fucking doormat. Who knew that today would have been my snapping point? Maybe it was the imaginary friend thing.

Speaking of which...

“So now you’ve turned off your phone?” a voice gruffly asked from the end of the bed, making me cry out as I instantly covered my mouth, not wanting to alert anyone in the house. Which of course, was ridiculous, because there was a man in my room. Mind you, it was Oliver, but clearly, I hadn’t deemed him a large enough threat to bring in my stepmother about it.

“I have,” I exhaled, dropping my hand and looking around the room, just making sure it was only him. “What’s it to you? Also, where did you go earlier? And why are you in my room?”

An amused darkness entered his gaze as his lip twitched. “That’s a lot of questions, princess.”

“Rightfully so, considering you are in my room, uninvited,” I snipped back.

“You did invite me.” He walked closer, sitting right next to me as his eyes darkened. “Everything about you is fucking inviting.” My eyes widened at his words but his expression suddenly grew more serious before he switched the topic. “You shouldn’t ever turn off your phone, Ophelia. What if you were in danger?”

I had no words to describe how weird this was. Honestly.

“Do you want my phone? Is that what this is about? You seem very focused on it,” I noted, feeling a bit tired and just freaked out.

“What I am focused on is your safety,” he stated as if he wasn’t being a total weirdo. I froze as he cupped my jaw gently, looking over my face before standing up and walking over to my purse. I frowned as he turned my phone on and pressed it into my hand. I narrowed my eyes at how fucking bossy he was being.

“Are you going to go away the minute I pick it up?” I asked, feeling a bit of sadness at that concept. Which of course was ridiculous.

An odd look came over his face as he arched a dark brow, “Do you want me to?”

I could feel the loneliness peeking out. “I wouldn’t care if you stayed. I was going to probably play chess against myself or watch a show…”

He stared at me blankly for a moment before nodding resolutely and walked over to the chest that had my board games in it. I didn’t even question how he knew that. I suppose it would make sense that my imaginary friend would know where I kept one of my favorite past times.

Assuming of course that this was all some odd narrative and not real. If it was real, it would have been a bit stalkerish and creepy, which I shouldn’t find attractive. I looked down at my phone as missed call after missed call came in. I rubbed my temples looking over the…sweet Christ, twenty missed calls. I dialed Bard back.

“Ophelia,” he immediately answered.

I heard a feminine voice in the background and I shook my head while Oliver opened the chest, pulling out my favorite chess set. It was fairy themed, with the figures an assortment of creatures, plants, and flowers. It had been my mother’s. She had a myriad of interesting artistic games she’d left me and I hoped to pass them on one day to my own kids. Assuming I don’t end up a cat lady living alone for the rest of my life. Honestly, it sounded sort of peaceful. Too bad I don’t have a cat…yet.

“Beautiful,” he stated more softly, making me refocus on my phone call.

“Yes, Bard?” I asked dryly.

“We need to talk.” The tension in his voice returned.

“Don’t worry, I’m still picking you up for school tomorrow,” I rolled onto my side as Oliver began to set up the pieces.

His tattoos were very stark against his skin and I found myself wanting to trace them further. The runes trailing up his arms almost in a decorative floral-like pattern intertwined with script.

Maybe I could convince him to take his shirt off. The fireplace was literally right there. Maybe I could ‘accidentally’ set his shirt on fire or spill something on him…no, Ophelia. That’s unhealthy. What was wrong with me?

Bard let out a small, almost growl, “That is not why I’m calling, Ophelia.”

“Why are you calling?” I curiously asked, running a hand through my hair.

“What were you doing with Kirin?” he asked, sounding stressed.

Seriously?

“Bard,” I inhaled closing my