Fae of the South (Court of Crown and Compass Book 3) by E. Hall (libby ebook reader .txt) 📕

Just a little to the left.” Sadira puckers her thin lips with disapproval.

I adjust the band of woven flowers on her head and force a smile. Clearing my throat, I say, “You both look lovely.” I’m not full-fae. I can lie.

They make me work, sweat and run down my patience by rubbing in the fact that I didn’t receive an invitation to be a spectator at the tournament.

Even if the murkast were allowed, there’s no way my cousins would participate. They’re too, well, girlie. Don’t get me wrong, I love a gown and curls as much as the next person, but to be more specific, Nesrin and Sadira are too lazy, self-absorbed, and obnoxious to perform the tests of skill, cunning, and strength at Skelling Hall. And that’s saying something since the fae are second class citizens in the Eastlands, forced to work to support the elven kingdom. This makes most of us strong and resilient, but somehow my cousins ended up sassy and sluggish. Must be the unseelie in them.

Every year, the elven lords like to remind us of our status by allowing some fae, or murkast as they call us, to attend the tournament. Mostly, so they can flex their muscles in a show of might.

“Father,” Nesrin calls to my uncle Drod as if she expects a response. “Don’t I look beautiful?” She twirls into the front room of our humble cottage.

Like every day, he’s in the chair by the window, waiting and watching as if my aunt will suddenly appear down the lane, her cheeks rosy and her smile wide with excitement at her return home.

She went missing on my birthday. He’s hardly moved in the time since. Naturally, my cousins blame me.

Sadira dashes into the room, barges in front of her sister and says, “This dusty pink looks gorgeous on me, don’t you think?”

He’s unresponsive.

I never knew my twin and wonder if all fae pairs are as competitive and annoying as these two.

They start toward the door to make the long walk to the castle. Both turn and give me a persnickety little wave. “Too bad you can’t join us, Elsie,” Sadira says.

“We’ll be sure to tell you all about it, especially about King Asher,” Nesrin adds.

“I’m sure you will,” I mutter. As horrible as the king is, he’s equally handsome, which is to say extremely handsome because he’s extremely horrible—not that I care.

I release a long-held exhale as they scuttle down the lane and out of sight.

Before going to my room, I freshen the cup of water next to my uncle, lay a knit blanket over his lap, and squeeze his shoulder.

My cousins were always horrid, but my aunt and uncle were my saving grace. Thinking about it now, I wonder if Nesrin and Sadira hate me because their parents treated me like their daughter even though I’m not. The thought stops me in my tracks, but so does the creak of my bedroom window.

I slowly push open the door, sighting my bow and quiver hanging on the hook on the wall. My hand slaps against my chest and I take a deep breath as Hattie falls tail over teakettle onto the floor.

We both laugh as I help my best friend up.

“They’re gone. You could’ve used the front door,” I whisper even though I don’t need to.

“This is more fun.” Hattie lifts and lowers her eyebrows then one arches. “Wait. You’re not dressed. Don’t tell me, you were helping the Terrible Two instead of preparing for the best night of your life.”

I sigh. “I’m not sure we should go through with it.”

Hattie trips over the woven rug and catches herself on the edge of the bed. “I hope it’s not because I’m the clumsiest elf in all of Alvheim.”

“No, of course not.”

“I know you can lie since you’re not full-fae, but don’t you dare. I’m clumsy, terrible with an arrow, and can’t brew a potion to save my life. Thankfully, I have you otherwise I’d be dead.”

Even though friendship and any form of relationship are forbidden between elves and fae, when we were both still knee-high to a meadow-skipper, I found Hattie elbow-deep in a container of poison berries and had to save her life.

Growing up, the Terrible Two were granted admission to the fae school because of their full-fae status. Meanwhile, Aunt Ella had to bring me to work with her at Skelling Hall. Little does anyone know that I learned the fae art of glamour magic when I was very young and studied beside the king-to-be disguised as an elf. Or, the king-at-present. And the Terrible Two have nothing on the madman he’s become, which is why we’ve hatched a plan to get me in front of him.

Hattie shoves a uniform at me, takes my bow and arrow from the wall, and then brandishes the invitations. “Just like the rest of the elves when they come of age, they gave me an open spot in the tournament. And by me, I mean you. Now come on, we’ve been planning this forever.” She narrows her eyes and presses her lips together, trying to look fierce.

We both burst into laughter.

Inside, I know why she’s doing this—apart from the fact that she knows that little old me, a lowly fae, can win the tournament. If I can get an audience with the king, I stand a chance of finding my aunt. It’s a long shot, but I’d do anything to get her back. Elves are warriors and many of them are trackers, but no one is as skilled as King Asher, meaning he can find Aunt Ella. There’s also no one I should avoid more. Then I’ll do what Aunt Ella asked me to do.

After I put on the fitted leather pants and top, Hattie surveys my glamoured appearance. I look just like her. I’ve glamoured