Facing the Fae [BOOK TWO]

Chapter 3

"I'm so out of my depth," she whispered.

He hugged her tighter, before stepping back. His smile was gentle as he stared at her, despite the fact that he was carrying a sword with him. "Rebecca. You'll do fine."

She wasn't so sure about that—already she felt like her stomach was in knots.

*

The trip to the arena didn't take long enough.

By noon Rebecca stood in the back entrance of it, shaking hands clasped in front of her. No one was around except for Ferro and the guard he'd brought with him. That meant on a limited few were privy to her panic.

She shifted on her feet, glad they'd given her white strappy sandals instead of heels. "I just walk in. And up. Then sit. That's it right? Easy."

Ferro seemed to realise she was talking to herself more than anyone else. Nevertheless, he answered with a quiet, "That's it. Then you just sit and watch."

"Watch people fight savagely to defend me," she muttered.

No one disputed the statement because it was true. Already Rebecca could hear whispers from inside of Fae that would stare at her. Whisper about her.

Steeling herself, she tried to tell herself she could do this.

The pep talk didn't work, but she forced herself to walk anyway. Putting it off wouldn't help the situation. It would only draw it out for longer.

She let Ferro take the lead on where to go, following behind him. Like him, the guards behind her were all sporting swords. It made her nervous, especially considering they were behind her. Speeding up, she moved so she was right behind Ferro.

He said nothing about it, just continuing to walk. They passed by the back entrance, walking through a slim, dark corridor that led to a set of stairs. All noise disappeared. All chaos disappeared. Behind them, out of the walkway was a long wall. Behind it, she could see tents everywhere. Ferro had told her it was where the entrants were practicing.

As the ascended up the stairs, her legs threatened to give out underneath her. "I go up. And I sit," she whispered to herself. Then she projected her voice louder so Ferro would hear. "Do I have to talk? Make a speech?"

"Normally, yes. But as long as the tradition stands, it doesn't matter. But, at any point, you can stop a fight. If you think the victor is wrong, say so. The winner will change. You don't have to explain why."

Rebecca doubted she'd be able to that. Already, her voice was in her throat.

The higher they climbed, the more the serenity disappeared. She could hear some shouts. Talking.

"Won't the other Queen be there already?" she asked to distract herself.

"No. She was told to come later. You will already be seated and she will be refused entry."

Well, that was . . . rough. But if she was anything like her daughter, she deserved it. "Oh."

They were on the next platform now. In the distance Rebecca could see the arena over the large barrier. Her heart constricted in her throat. Around the edges of the arena, on raised level platforms were hundreds, thousands, of Fae. The large circular dirt patch in the middle seemed to shrink in size despite the fact that it was the size of a football oval.