I've never really been told—there's a lot of speculation, but no answers."
The guard crossed his arms over his chest. "I will not stand for your trickery."
"Trickery?" I shook my head. "I just asked you a question." I reached for the bread as my stomach rumbled again, the feeling of not having eaten in a long while finally clawing at my insides. "Don't blame me if you can't answer it."
"I will not fall for your spells!"
I rolled my eyes as I tore off a bite of the bread and sniffed it before popping it into my mouth. It wasn't nearly as good as the delicious rolls the pixies brought me. "If I was capable of casting a spell, don't you think I'd use it to get myself out of here?" I asked, chewing loudly as I leveled him with one of my 'are you serious?' looks. "What's your name, anyway?" I couldn't really talk to this guy without knowing his name. I'd already introduced myself. It was a little rude that he hadn't reciprocated.
"I'm called Geoffrey."
"Well, Geoffrey," I tore off another piece as I finished swallowing the lump of soggy bread in my mouth. "Sorry to break it to you, but I'm innocent."
His arms unfolded to his sides and he stepped forward until his booted foot kicked at the edge of my tray. "Liar!" he exclaimed. "You are Fae. The King's advisor—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said quickly. I reached back and heaved myself up onto the cot, but something about my legs felt funny—was I still weak from that dream I had of Orion?—I shook my head. I needed to worry about what was in front of me right now. Orion would inform the others of my predicament. They'd do something. Soon. I returned my attention to the man in front of me. "I never said I wasn't Fae." He stopped moving, and I continued. "I said I was innocent."
Geoffrey's eyes followed my movements as I finished eating the bread. "No Fae is truly innocent," he finally replied.
I frowned. I had yet to see them, but I had to assume there were Fae children. I'd been a child once, myself. "Of course there are innocent Fae," I told him. "Just like you, Fae have babies. There are those who hate this war just as much as we do."
"Fae hate war?" The sound that he made was decisively not amused. "Fae live for war." This time when he looked at me, it was less of a stare and more like he was seeing through me. Into another place. Into another time. And the expression on his face made my chest hurt.
"Have you ever seen a Fae spew fire?" he asked, but before I could answer, he continued talking. "I have seen the beasts that they are. They can turn an entire battlefield into ash in a second if they're so inclined. The only reason they even put up with this war is because it amuses them. They love it. They crave it."
“That’s not true!” I burst out. “They hate war just as much as we do!” How could I make him understand? It’s not humans or Fae. It’s Tyr! “Your King has no idea what’s happening!” I confessed in a rush of breath. “His advisor is a Fae. Tyr is—”
I didn’t see the slap coming until it was too late, but I certainly felt it as the back of his gloved knuckles smacked into my cheek and sent me sprawling. My foot tripped over the wooden bowl still sitting upon the tray on the ground and the rest of the gruel went flying, chunks of it hitting my leg as I fell. Heat radiated from my cheek and for several long beats of silence, all I could do was sit there. Shocked … confused … angry.
A heat built within me, sliding through my limbs. It infused my very soul.
“You are nothing but a disgusting liar!” Geoffrey spat at me. A bit of his spittle landed on my cheek, and a sizzling sound reached my ears. I blinked and lifted my palm to my cheek—the same cheek he’d backhanded. My hand was glowing—it was dim, barely there, but visible. As if a light had been turned on beneath my skin. “Our King is great! He is going to be the one to save us! You and your kind should never have been brought into existence. I curse the Gods who created you for they are not the same who created man!”