Page 89 of My Faire Lady

She disappears into the room, and I round the corner of the kitchen, chasing after her. By the time I brace a hand against the door frame, she’s already out of my shirt and pulling a pair of leggings on.

“Lottie, please.” My magic curls into the depths of my body, recoiling from the aching pain. “I should’ve never done it. Boden told me not to.”

She yanks a sweater over her head and whips toward me. “He knew, too? And didn’t say anything?” She lets out a huff and pulls her hair back with a clip. “Did everyone know, and I was just the silly human without any magic, unaware of everything?”

“No, wait.” I step into the room, tears blurring my vision. “I wasn’t thinking, I⁠—”

Before I can string together an apology, or a plea that would make up for what I’ve done, she pushes past me and strides toward the front door.

“Please just try to understand,” I say, my voice and heart cracking. “You don’t belong here, not like the rest of us do. You belong out there, where you can live a full life.”

Her hand freezes over the doorknob, and without looking my way, she says, “If you really don’t want me to stay, fine. I’ll leave.”

She walks through the door and slams it behind her.

32

Ican’t breathe.

I stumble blindly through the hallways, searching for a familiar door. Tears stream down my face, and an ache blooms behind my forehead, pounding deeper with each of my steps.

This whole time, I was proud of myself. Winning the contest wasn’t so much about the scholarship, but to finally prove to myself that it was something worth pursuing. That it was something I was good at.

And now? Now I’m wondering if it was all a farce. That the fairgoers who liked my pieces only did because magic was woven into the land. If I tried to make something at home, or sell it in a storefront off the consecrated land, would it be worth anything?

Would I be worth anything?

I swipe the tears away with the back of my hand, but it doesn’t stop the shallow whimpers coming from my mouth. Grabbing hold of the rail, I twist down the spiral staircase and come to a landing. A single door sits within the wall on the right, and I stop before it, rapping my knuckles on the wood.

It’s far too early for her to be awake, but she’ll be the only one who will help me. She’ll understand why I need to do this.

The door creaks open.

Frankie’s brows pull together, wings tucked in close to her sides. “Lottie, what’s wrong?”

I fall into her, and she stumbles back slightly, but her arms wrap around my shoulders, holding tight. She runs a hand down my knotted hair. The gentle touch pours out whatever tears I managed to hold back in front of Scarlet, and a puddle forms on her shoulder.

She doesn’t pull back. “What happened?”

“I love her.” I sniff, hating the next words before they leave my mouth. “And I need you to help me forget her.”

Her hand freezes, and she eases me away, studying my face. My eyelids are swollen, tender, and I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater.

“Oh, honey,” she whispers. “Let’s go on a walk, and you can tell me what happened. Does that sound good?”

I nod and untangle myself from her. She links her arm through mine, and my chest loosens at the small comfort as I let her lead me through the compound. The rising sun casts golden rays through the sprawling windows, and she guides me through the enchanted door.

My stomach pitches as the magic buzzes across my skin. I’ll never walk through it again.

I won’t even remember it.

Crisp, early morning air wafts across my face and snakes down my collar. But I’m numb to the cold. Numb to the sprites flitting about the trees that seem to curl around us as we pitch left and pass through a row of bushes. The air shimmers around us, brushing lightly against my skin. Another enchanted passage.

“Start at the beginning,” Frankie says, her blond hair sagging out of a halfhearted bun. Sleep clings to her eyes, but to her benefit, she hasn’t had to stifle a single yawn.

The tears haven’t stopped, but they dry against my skin before they have a chance to drip to the packed dirt. “I won the contest.”

Frankie gasps, and her eyes widen, but she must read something in my expression, and her face falls.