out of trouble, and others were more likely to leave you alone if you didn’t look like you couldn’t handle things. And if there was one thing I knew for sure, being left alone was usually better than garnering attention. “Are we going?”
He stared at me for a long second. “We need to get you some new clothes. This is too obvious. Even people who aren’t looking for you will talk about you because of that.” His gaze roamed my body, lingering on the tear in my dress just above my navel. “We need to make you blend.”
Somewhere a dog barked. I knew that sound. I’d heard them echo along the walls of Nightmare before. I often wondered if the perimeter was surrounded with them, but I never saw for sure. Based on the muffled sound, they were kept at a distance.
That had been my whole life—spent in isolation.
I took in the buildings. Vines covered the exteriors, as if the earth and modern architecture grew in tandem, supporting one another and moving as one. The roads were made of rock and dirt, while plants and flowers grew wild along the skyscrapers.
Cypress led me along the crowded street. Men, women, and children walked by. I’d met a few Fae women at Nightmare Penitentiary. One of them even raised me for two years during her sentencing. They were ancient, peculiar people. They liked to speak in riddles and moved like the air, graceful and silent. They’d worn the modern clothes of the cities I’d read about in books, but made adjustments that paid homage to their people. Flower crowns. Bracelets made of vines and dipped in gold. Their long hair fell like curtains around their pointed ears.
I stopped to stare in awe at a mother with her baby. She was playing with a puddle of water, lifting the droplets with a graceful pull of her fingers and forcing them to dance around her giggling child. My heart panged at the love between them, and the time lost between my own mother and me.
“Princess,” his harsh whisper bounced off the shell of my ear. I sensed Cypress’s heated presence at my back and went rigid at his nearness. “We need to keep moving.”
I tore my gaze from the family and shook my head. “I thought you said the Fae were loyal to my family,” I said, for once playing along that what he’d told me was true.
“They’re also self-serving tricksters that’ll turn their back on you if given half a chance. We don’t have time for you to stare at little babies and mourn the childhood you missed out on.” I opened and closed my mouth. Had I been that obvious? “How about you focus on staying alive so we both can have a future we envisioned?”
I pursed my lips together and nodded. “Right. Lead the way.”
“Good girl,” he replied, patting my head patronizingly.
I swatted his hand away. “I grew up in a prison, Cypress. Don’t speak to me like I’m ignorant, or I’ll give you a reason to fear me.”
His grin shocked me. “Did you just threaten me? I kind of love it. Come on.”
I shook my head. He loved it? What a masochistic psycho.
I followed after him, hurrying to keep up so he wouldn’t annoy me with pleading urges to walk faster. People openly stared at us. I was like a puzzle the Fae wanted to figure out. Cypress seemed to notice the blatant attention on us and eventually grabbed my arm, yanking me closer. When our bodies clashed, his scent drifted over me. He’d sweat a little bit, but it was a warm, clean smell. How was it possible that his sweat could smell like that? I probably stank to all hell. In fact, I’d never been so conscious of my personal appearance as I was just then. How badly did I come across that every Fae in this place stared at me like I’d grown a second head?
We headed toward an inn, me hurrying to keep up with him as we went. I stumbled up the stairs and rolled my eyes at my own clumsiness. If there was a way to embarrass myself, I always found the way to do it.
“Be careful, Princess,” an older man said as I steadied myself. I turned to look at the man standing in front of me. The wrinkles in his skin were deep set, eyes were purple, and his toothless smile was somehow still threatening. “Some of the people around here have