Her Dishonest Fae
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Corinthe Davies
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Toraval, a once-proud Fae prince, now wanders the vale in exile, stripped of title, power, and purpose. His life is empty, his path uncertain, until he finds Emmaline—a Fire Fae, last of her kind, hunted to extinction and erased from memory. Duty whispers that delivering her to his family could restore everything he lost: his name, his throne, his power. But desire burns hotter than obligation. As his heart betrays his plans, Toraval must choose between reclaiming a crown or protecting the woman he never expected to love, in a world where love is the ultimate rebellion.
Chapter 1: Stalker-Dibs
TORAVAL
What a curious little thing she was.
Not a native of the Fae Vale, she smelled and looked otherworldly. Dark-brown curly hair sat at her shoulders, framing light-brown skin. Her eyes were striking most of all, a shade of sage green. Against her skin, they popped like peering through window panes.
The woman wore a dark cloak with the hood up, as if that could somehow shield her from notice. Or the dangers that lurked around her.
Dangers like me.
I smirked to myself, watching as this sweet creature knelt in front of a tree, running her gloved fingers over a wild plant.
Briar vine. I knew it had medicinal properties, if my vague recollection of schooling from decades past served. After picking a few, she carefully tucked them into a pouch at her side, then rose to her feet.
She began to hum a song I didn’t recognize, bobbing her head. Then, without warning, she stopped and belted out a line like a tavern bard or an opera singer on stage.
Not a bad voice. I withheld a snort as she theatrically brought her hands upward.
“And I…,” she belted the word for an unnaturally long time as she lifted her hands higher into the air. “Will always love you…”
Her sliding vibrato came out as she held the next note. From behind the tree, my face contorted.
I could not definitively say if I was repulsed or even more intrigued.
“Will always…” She took a deep breath. “Love…”
I lifted an eyebrow at the dramatic pause.
“Yooooooou!”
The final, climactic note was too high for her and painfully off-key.
“Good gods, woman!” I cried out as I emerged from my hiding place. “Are you trying to avoid the notice of others or draw them to you? I think I can hear the wolves howling already.”
The woman shrieked, jumping back with her fists raised like she was ready to brawl.
What an adorable and pathetic attempt at self-defense.
I lifted a palm as I hobbled forward, double-checking that I kept my glamour disguise in place. A cane was in my left hand as I emerged from between two trees.
At the sight of me as an old man, hunched and toddling, she likely came to the conclusion that everyone did: I was harmless.
Wrong, of course, but I liked this disguise. When you seemed senile, people tended to feel sorry for you. Or gave you things for free.
A win-win, really.
Abandoning her attack stance, she straightened and pulled two small white objects from her ears. I watched with sharp interest as she placed them into a tiny rounded case, another device I had never seen before in my life.
“You scared me!” she cried out. “Who are you?”
“Toraval. Most call me Tory,” I answered, still staring as she tucked the white capsule away. I pointed. “What was that in your ears?”
She blinked, glancing down at her satchel where she had stored them and the briar vine. “Oh, my earbuds?”
An apt name, but that didn’t answer my question. With an impatient nod, I edged closer to her, almost forgetting I was supposed to have a strong limp for my disguise.
Wary, she took a careful step backward as I approached. I lifted my palm again, my eyes glimmering with mirth.
“I assure you, I mean no harm. Merely curious. What is your name?”
“Emmaline. Uh, most people call me Emma.”
Emma. The name fit her. Then again, she could have been called Toilet and I would have still found her enchanting.
Closer, I caught her scent, which was an alluring combination of peony and…orange blossom?
“Hello, Emma.” I gave her a wide grin, knowing my glamour showed several teeth missing. Despite an attempt to stay polite, Emma stared.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out in the woods all alone?” I asked.
The amused sigh Emma let out made it clear she was willing to excuse my elderly persona for being a lech.
Old people had things so easy.
“I’m looking for herbs,” she replied, and I nodded with feigned interest, though I already knew this.
“Oh?” I leaned both hands upon my wooden cane. “A potion maker, are you?”
“Only an amateur. I’m trying to make a potion to help…someone,” she answered with a shy smile. Adorable. “And why are you out here, Tory?”
“I’m what you might call a professional nomad,” I answered with a low, raspy chuckle.
A look of pity flashed in her eyes.
Perfect.
“The sun is going to set soon, and the forest can become dangerous,” I continued. “You should return to your friends.”
“Oh, I’m, uh…” Emma seemed wary to admit she was alone and gave me another once-over. Decent survival instincts. What a shame.
“Yeah, I’ll join them soon,” she assured me. Emmaline didn’t know I had been following her for two days. She was very much friendless in the Vale.
“I’m gonna keep foraging…over…there.” She pointed her thumb behind her shoulder. “So, you take care, Tory. Nice meeting you.”
Emma gave me a friendly smile and spun on her heel to continue deeper into the forest. I grinned as she showed me her back.
Simply charming. She thought she was going to get away from me.
I took a step forward without my cane, following in step.
After a delay, Emma realized I was still behind her. She pulled off her hood, turning to face me. “Um, Tory?”
“Yes, Emma?”
“Are you following me?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Okay…” She let the word hang in the air, then crossed her arms. “And why are you following me?”
“It’s clear you’re alone, sweet girl. So am I. We could make camp for the night, together. Swap stories. I make a mean rabbit stew.”
I actually didn’t know how to make stew. I could hunt with ease. But aside from impatiently charring meat over a campfire, I couldn’t cook.
She laughed softly with a look of incredulity. “You want to hang out with me? Why?”
“It gets lonely,” I replied with a disarming shrug. “Humor an old man. I promise you are safe with me.”
My hand rested over my heart, tilting my head down with reverence. “I have made a solemn promise to not cause you harm. Not that an old man could do much damage.” I snickered.
Emma’s eyes darted to the west where the sun was setting. Beneath my clothes, I could feel the chill of night approaching.
“Well…” She looked at me again, her lips pursed and then twitched. “Okay. Just for the night. But no funny business, Tory. Or I’ll literally set your pants on fire for being a liar.”
Pants on fire? A strangely specific threat, but I liked it.
“Wonderful! Now, what plants are next on your list?” I used my cane to point at the list in her hand. “Maybe my old nose can sniff them out.”
“What, like a dog?”
I guffawed, clutching an offended hand to my chest. Did this woman just fucking compare me to a dog?
“Not like a dog.” I gritted my teeth but kept my smile tight to pretend I was amused. “But we Fae have exceptional senses.”
“That’s cool.” She laughed. “Can you smell honeysuckle?”
“Don’t insult me.” I ripped the paper from her hands. “Honeysuckle is everywhere. Give me a challenge.”
Emma snorted with laughter again; the sound was…sweet. Even pleasant to my ears. I didn’t like how it made my body strangely warm and tingly.
“You’re funny, Tory.”
“Yes…hilarious,” I muttered, looking over the list and wondering what kind of concoction this woman was trying to make. I was half tempted to tear up the parchment, disable my glamour, and overwhelm her with my beauty and charm before she even knew what happened.
Certainly the easier route to take.
But not fun.
And gods, did I love a good hunt.
It had been so long since I was drawn to a human by scent alone. And even longer since I felt interested enough to pursue it.
Boredom was a dangerous mood for me, and this girl was the only thing that stood between peace and utter mayhem for the Vale.
For the time being, this dark-haired beauty was distracting enough to quell those impulses. A lucky thing on her part, really. I could make her life a living hell. And I probably would once I tired of being friendly and cute.
Over the next two hours, I helped Emma find a few plants and convinced her to even pluck some wild mushrooms to cook with for dinner. She seemed hesitant to do so, another good survival instinct, but was gullible enough to believe my word. Everyone knew you didn’t eat wild mushrooms.
How had this woman stayed alive out here? Who blindly took the word of an old hermit who was clearly out of his mind? Silly mortal girl!
While Emma may have been naive to the workings of the Vale, she was an excellent campmate. I complained about my aching joints and sore back, so she immediately went to work finding a place for us to settle down.
A decent clearing in the forest next to a felled tree caught her eye. She helped me sit upon the trunk and told me to stay put while she fetched firewood. Within a circle of rocks, she dumped the wood into the center.
I glanced around for the kindling she had neglected to bring. And where was the flint? Or a match? Gods, did I really have to do this for her? This was basic survival!
“Never fear, I have some matches somewhere,” I grumbled, twisting around to look for my knapsack. Emma gave a curious look with her head cocked to the side, then understanding softened her face.
“Oh, we don’t need that.”
“Huh?” I said intelligently.
Emma hovered her hand over the pit. She drew in a slow breath through her nose as hairs rose on the back of my neck and my skin tingled.
The forest suddenly quieted. No birds chirped, no bugs chittered, no breeze passed.
Time even seemed to slow as I saw magical energy in the form of golden orbs dance at her feet.
Before my brain had even a second to process what I was seeing—if it was actually real—the campfire came to life with a whoosh.
I fell off the tree and landed hard on my ass, grunting out loud.
“Tory! Are you okay? I-I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Her hands were on my shoulders, and I let her help me sit up as I struggled to breathe—to even think.
A fire wielder.
She was a fucking fire wielder.
How?
