As soon as my friends depart, Raya sends for a handmaiden, a petite fairy with blue eyes that seem to glitter as she turns her head this way and that.
She leads me out of the hollow and deep into the forest to where a small hot spring steams and bubbles. Quiet and methodical, she scrubs every inch of my skin in the warm water until I'm pink, then combs through my hair with oil that smells like lilies.
She's good at what she does. I feel myself relaxing under her care, letting my mind empty of all my worries just for a moment. Cooper and Emily are safe. I tell myself that's all that matters right now. What happens to me... well, I'll be okay.
"What's your name?" I ask the handmaiden.
She responds tartly, "Silence."
"I'm Lily."
"Silence."
How charming.
We spend the next several minutes in a companionable quiet. I don't try to ask her anything else and she doesn't make an attempt at conversation. Maybe working for Raya has made her cautious of speaking her mind. Rightfully so.
Once I'm clean, she clears up her supplies and tucks them into a small bag. She gestures for me to come with her, giving me nothing to shield my nakedness. I look around for the sundress I was wearing earlier but it's nowhere to be seen.
"Can I have something to wear?" I ask her, embarrassed.
She raises an eyebrow at me and speaks for the first time. "You won't be wearing it for long before it's taken off again."
A furious blush creeps into my face at the insinuation. She has some idea, then, of what's in store for me.
"Please," I say, insistent.
She frowns at me but nods. She leaves me sitting by the edge of the spring as she tucks away into the forest, seeming to melt into the trees rather than walk between them. The relationship between the fairies and the forest seems to be a symbiotic, living one - not unlike those I've read about in textbooks.
It's the first moment I've had to myself as I wait. Most of my thoughts feel scattered and muddled, as though there's a thin film of disuse on my brain. All I can really process is that I don't know what's going to happen to me. The deal I've made is so all-consuming. Servitude in this place, for as long as I live, doing who knows what. I've never felt more out of control.
Yet it's also hard to feel sad here, almost as if slightly tipsy without having drunk anything. Maybe this is what possessed me to make such an ambiguous deal in the first place. Or maybe it was the obvious - my closest friends being put into mortal peril.
I can't stop picturing Cooper's imploring eyes, trying to understand what was happening, trying to do something to help.
"Here." Silence steps back out from the trees, carrying a long piece of shimmering mauve fabric. When I put it on, I have to stop the sigh that nearly escapes me. The fabric is as soft as down, thin as paper, and feels exquisite against my skin. It's draped low enough on my chest to reveal the tops of my breasts and a slit cuts high enough to reveal most of my thigh. Between that and its near transparency, I feel like I'm wearing little, but I'm glad to have something all the same.
"Thank you."
Silence only looks me up and down with no indication of what she's thinking.
Our walk to the hollow feels longer on the way back. At least, that's where I think we're headed. Everything looks the same here, trees blending into each other and the sky above rarely visible. It's late evening, the light just beginning to fade, casting the forest in shades of gold. I nearly trip on my dress several times; I'm not used to wearing something like this. It's fitted around my waist and beneath my breasts, but the skirt flows freely around my legs all the way down to the forest floor.
After a time, we reach the edge of something. It's hard to put my finger on what, but the forest feels different. The ground starts to dip down and the trees grow further and further apart. There's a teeming, anxious energy in the air. We continue down a soft moss-ridden path into a valley. As the last of the trees clear from our way, my breath catches.
We're reached what appears to be an open-air throne room. Like everything else here, it's stunning. It's large, much larger than the hollow in which I first met the king and queen. It looks like an amphitheater, with what must be hundreds of rows of stone steps converging at its lowest point, where two thrones sit side by side on a low stage.
And there are people. Fairies. Hundreds of them, teeming amongst the stone rows. Everywhere I look there are bright colors and stunning features. Some are lounging in the grass, others are sitting or standing, talking. I can see goblets being filled with fairy wine, an unmistakable deep red, and then refilled.
There are some looks in our direction as we pass through, but they seem distracted. There are far more pressing things happening. One woman has a man pinned to the ground beneath her and is riding him like her life depends on it. His white, moth-like wings are pressed flat into the grass beneath him. He grips her waist, bucking his hips, meeting her thrust for thrust. I can see every line of her muscles in the golden light as she leans over him, her breasts bouncing.
I don't realize I've stopped until Silence takes my arm in a firm grip and begins leading me down the stone steps towards the thrones. After that, she maintains a steady presence by my side.
When we reach the lowest step, I get a better look at the stage. In the center of a circular platform, two enormous thrones sit side-by-side. Their surface is made up of twisting branches, their seats upholstered with lush moss, and the backs carved with the outline of flying birds. As I watch, buds burst forth along the branches and melt away into great, gleaming white flowers. Just as quickly, the flowers wilt and fall away into nothingness, the leaves dropping soon after. A moment later, the process repeats itself.
On either side of the thrones are two long tables set diagonally across the stage. Many of the seats are empty, goblets missing as though the occupants have just gone to get more wine. The table is generously decorated with food, fruit and cheeses, pheasants, whole and cooked. This table must be for some kind of nobility, maybe the king's most trusted advisors.
King Thalion leans against one of the tables with a wine goblet in hand. He wears only a pair of brown trousers, and a simple crown woven from branches. Thin gold bands adorn his arms, seeming to stretch with the movement of his muscles as he shifts. He doesn't need lavish clothes to make it obvious what power he holds. My skin prickles as I watch him, trying not to think about what feels like only yesterday. What he felt like, only yesterday. He leans forward, listening intently to something that a small green fairy is telling him.
Beside him, the queen consort sits casually across one of the thrones, legs hiked up, expression bored. This evening, she's dressed in a gown of silver, her long red hair braided and threaded through with a shimmery silver ribbon.
When Raya sees me, her eyes light up with a delighted expression. "Come here," she says, and I obey instantly, walking to her as though pulled by an invisible string.
