Page 71 of The Never Queen

“Why?”

He thinks for a beat, then, “I had always lived by the code of the Order. I never questioned it. But it started to make less and less sense to me after I fell for your mother. There is good andbad in every corner of every realm. But I’ve come to realize the good far outweighs the bad.”

“And sometimes it’s more gray than anything, and we don’t mind a bit of gray area.”

“I’m not here to judge your men. Morally gray or not.”

“Good. Because I’d toss you into the ocean if you did.”

He chuckles. “Of that I have no doubt.”

36

PETERPAN

In a fortnight…

All of Neverland is gathered in the Great Hall of the Fae Palace just after twilight.

Pixie bugs are glowing above us, golden against the dark blue of the domed ceiling, and lanterns made of soft green reeds are hung from iron hooks around the large room casting variated shadows and pools of light on the glittering stone floor.

Flowers and vines are zigzagging over the white stone walls, adding soft flushes of pink and yellow and purple.

There’s a buzz of conversation and excitement in the air.

Vane leans into me, muttering beneath his breath. “I think we underdressed.”

He’s joking, but also somewhat serious. The fae love a party. And they love ritual and ceremony above all else. There isn’t a person in this Great Hall not painted in glitter or gleaming in jewels. Vane and I are both wearing all black suits. We always go for the simple things.

“You want me to ask someone if they have some spare glitter for you?”

“Fuck you.” He straightens. “You think she’ll expect us to beglittering?”

He means Darling.

“What do you think?”

He closes his eyes and draws in a breath. “Fuck.”

A trio of fae girls comes out of the nearest arched doorway and pause, looking for their seats. I gesture for their attention and a bright spot of color appears on the cheeks of the girl to the left, while the one in the middle widens her dark brown eyes and then quickly looks away. It’s the one on the end, with the emerald green hair and lavender wings that comes over, shoulders held straight.

“Hello, Peter Pan,” she says.

“What’s your name?”

“Anza.”

“Anza, you wouldn’t happen to have extra glitter on your person? Would you?”

Her friends twitter behind her.

“You’re in luck. I have glitter. Marabella has sticky gems. And Sarena has a few extra binding bracelets.”

“They’re pink,” Sarena says, though I can’t tell if she’s warning me or trying to sell me.

“That will work,” I say.

“Sit,” Anza coaxes. “I mean…please, if you will sit.”