**DAPHNE**
My eyes shoot up to her. I gawk at her as she grins from ear to ear. I’m sure I look like an idiot. “Y-yes. Are you?” I whisper.
She giggles, going around the table to place the pot of soup back over the low fire. Turning around, she shakes her hair out and her long locks fall free from her braid, shining in silvers and yellows and golds. Her eyes sparkle brighter, glowing with electric fervor. Little blue vines, glimmering like precious metal, wander out from beneath her ears to twine around her head and down her back.
She nods at me. “Yes.”
I know not what to say, so I simply nod back.
She smirks at me, seemingly happy to share her secret. Skipping back over to the table where I sit, she smiles. “You already knew I was. I know you knew.”
Again, I nod. “But, seeing it,” I grin, the tears escaping, “Seeing it is so much more wonderful than suspecting.”
She laughs again, taking my hand in hers. “I cannot tell you how lovely it is to shed the glamor . It is so tiring. Running my magic all day like that. Goddess. I need some rest when this is all over.”
“This?” I ask.
She stiffens but does not answer me. I am just about to press her when Dionie comes barging in the front door. He is not alone.
A beautiful woman with teal skin and turquoise hair, braided in a crown about her head, comes in with him.
She smiles when she sees me. “Peasant girl,” she says, then bows.
I think I might faint.
Dionie slams the front door to spin angrily around. “Petra! Y-you-what the-you-”
“Shut up, Dionie,” Petra says calmly. “She already suspected. She saw me fizz out a couple of times.”
*Fizz out?*
“So,” the blue girl says, taking a seat beside me and serving herself a portion of rabbit. “She knows.”
“I do,” I say, still in shock.
“Ha,” she laughs. Smirking at me
The room goes eerily silent, aside from Petra, who is busily chewing her meat.
“You fizzed out?” The blue girl questions Petra. “Any particular reason why?”
Dionie sighs, locking the front door to sit at the table next to Petra.
Petra sips the water from her canteen. “No. Not that I’m aware of. I don’t think it was a problem with my magic. I think,” she breathes out, “I think she can just see things.”
“I didn’t always see them,” I say.
“How do you know?” Petra laughs. “How often did you leave your farm before ending up at the palace?”
“I went to the village at least once a week.”
Dionie snickers, “You weren’t likely to come across many Fae in the village.”
“I got lost in the woods once,” I say quietly. “A strange old lady found me and took me home. I barely remember her, I was very young, maybe five winters or six. My sister and I got separated picking berries. I remember thinking how wonderful it was that the woman lived in the tree and was there to help me. Now that I think about it, she may have been one of you. But she looked human to me. If you don’t count the leaves in her hair.”
“Why did you think she lived in the tree?” The blue girl asked me.
I took a sip of my soup before turning to her to answer. “Because I was leaning against it crying and calling for my sister, and then suddenly, her arms were around me, holding me. I remember thinking that she came out of the tree. That she had been part of it. But a child always remembers things differently than they occurred. I was probably just scared.”
And I wasn’t in this part of the forest.
At least, I don’t think I was.
“Or not,” Petra says. “A lot of times, children have the best memories. Children see much more than adults do, because their eyes are not yet clouded with spite.”
The blue girl grasps my wrist. “Wait! Can you see me?”
Her grip is strong, I wince in pain and nod. “Of course, I can. I can feel you too.”
She laughs. “Sorry.” Then, letting me go, she says, “What I mean to say is. Looking at me right now, what can you see? What color is my skin?”
My brow creases and I tilt my head at her. “Blue.”
Her eyes go wide and Dionie drops his fork, choking on his meat. ”I cannot even see her skin color and I am an ogre of old! Klyesque is a master of glamours. How can you see her?”
I jolt, turning to Dionie. “An ogre? You are an ogre?”
He nods. “I am.”
Now it is my turn to choke. “Then I cannot see through your disguise, because you certainly do not look like an ogre.”
For some reason my statement strikes the three as terribly funny. I pout, crossing my arms.
“How would you know, aye?” He grins. “I am not wearing glamor, Lady Daphne. This is how I look. I only glamor myself in Faery.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
"Lady Daphne?” The blue girl taunts.
“It fits her,” Dionie says simply.
She turns to me, the blue girl. She nods slowly, “It does.”
“I forgot to introduce you both,” Dionie says in apology. “The mad selkie of the blue skin is called Klyesque. She is Ash’s closest ally and longtime friend.”
“Oh,” I coo. “Selkie? Isn’t that like a water-”
“A water faerie, yes,” she confirms. “I am a native of the Ocean Realm on the other side of the Great Fae River, from Ash. In Faery. But ever since-” She stops, seemingly to choose her words. “Ever since the death of my queen, I have been a refugee of Rekyr Mountain and its people. Now, I draw my magic from the river as opposed to my place of origin. Which, if I’m honest, is the human equivalent of one meal per week to survive.”
“Oh,” I say, not really understanding.
“The Fae are always strongest in their place of origin.” She glances at me and winks. “It is where we are at our most powerful.”
“Wow,” I say, and I realize that I cannot stop staring at them.
Faeries!
Real live actual faeries!
Like the ones from Isabel’s stories! They are right here having dinner with me.
Suddenly, Klyesque reaches her hand out to stroke my shoulder. “The very first night I saw you, I knew there was something special about you.” Then she glares. “You’re welcome by the way.”
“Welcome?”
Dionie and Petra begin to laugh until Klyesque kicks them under the table.
She turns to me, “I glamoured myself into your likeness over a fortnight ago, in order to fool your king.”
I gasp. “No!”
“Yes,” she nods as the other begin laughing again. She snaps her head toward them, ”If you do not stop it!?”
“He’s in love with you!” I gush and she grins. “I don’t know how or what you did but, thank you.”
Again, she bows. “You can thank me by never ever mentioning it ever again. Please.”
Now I can’t help but snicker.
“I’m going to lose my rabbit,” Petra says, still laughing.
“Enough!” Klyesque shouts. “He wasn’t that bad actually.” Then she giggles. “Especially because, I glamoured him too.”
Oh my...
Now we are all laughing.
“How else was I to get through it?”
More laughter.
“You know,” I say, when I can finally breathe again. “This is the most fun I’ve had since I was a little girl.”
Klyesque smiles. “That’s a shame. Everyday should be this way.” Then, turning to Dionie and Petra, she declares, “I really like this girl.”
I can feel myself blushing and try to push my embarrassment aside with difficulty.
“To Lady Daphne,” Dionie says, raising his glass.
“To finding out that faeries are real,” I say as I raise my own and smile.
We all drink deeply from our cups. Grape juice, a rare treat. Also stolen from the palace kitchens.
“There’s something else.” Petra says, catching Klyesque’s gaze.
“What?” She replies.
“Trielle kneeled for her.”
Klyesque loses her smile. “What?”
“And,” Petra continues. “She can talk to wolves.”
Klyesque turns to me slowly.
“I spoke to it, yes,” I admit. “But it did not speak to me. The trees however-”
“The trees?” Dionie interrupts.
I nod. “They whispered to me.”
“Th-they what?” Dionie croaks.
“They told me the wolves were friends.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.
“M-maybe I imagined it. Perhaps it was just the wind,” I say, feeling stupid.
“No,” Petra says. She is studying me with acute fascination. “The beast kneeled for you. A wolf of the Mortal Realm, of Hadimere Forest. Kneeled at your feet. It was not the wind. I believe you.” Petra states.
“Were you not afraid?” Klyesque inquires, her eyes sparkling.
“I was not.”
“But you are human,” she retorts, squinting.
“I’m aware,” I say.
“Let me ask you a question, Daphne,” Klyesque smiles. “Where were you born?”