to Shift anyway to look like I belong. To my
surprise it works. Long, straight black hair and violet eyes. I change nothing
else about myself though. I figure it will be easier for me if they accept me.
I fear as it is, the contempt is going to outweigh the acceptance. He stops
dead as he looks at me. “How did you do that?” he demands.
“Just a little gift I picked up from my mother's side,” I
say and shrug.
“Well, that is much better. At least you now look like I own
you,” he says.
Own me? I square my shoulders to blast him that no one owns
me when he adds quietly, “This is going to be difficult enough for my wife. I
would ask that you show her some respect and not flaunt these unFae abilities
of yours.”
I close my mouth as I never even thought about him having a
wife, much less caring about her feelings. “Of course.” I clear my throat.
“While we are still down here, can you do something about
your attire? You look like a heathen,” he says.
I pull my face at him. “What is deemed sartorially acceptable?”
I ask, sarcastically.
“A gown for a start. Women here know their place,” he says.
Oh, like that, is it? I take in his own clothes and magick
up something that I assume is Fae approved and he nods at my deep purple gown
which shows off my now, thank the old gods, complete Fae markings, but covers
up the Dragon on my back. “Good choice,” he says as I spin in a sarcastic
circle for him. “The only thing the Faerie hate more than Vampires is Dragons.”
And with that he stalks off in giant strides, which has me
running to keep up.
We don’t speak further as we ascend the million stairs to
the surface. Probably an exaggeration, but bloody hell if it didn’t feel like
it. Who knew you could be so far underground and not have your arse burning off
with the flames of Hellfire?
“I will show you to your room,” he says. “Please stay there.
I don’t want you wandering around causing trouble and getting everyone’s skirts
in a bunch. We will have a proper naming ceremony for you tomorrow where I will
introduce you as my daughter and I will arrange for the Coronation the day
after.”
“Naming ceremony?” I ask as he pushes the door to the
dungeons open and leads me through the extensive kitchens. Why are dungeons
always off kitchens no matter which dimension you go to?
“Yes. You are a Fae Princess and you will have a Fae name,”
he says haughtily.
Oh for fuck's sake, I groan. Another name. Like I don’t have
a gazillion as it is. “Can’t you just pick one from the numerous I already
have?” I ask hopefully.
“Are any of them Fae?” he snaps.
I shrug. “I don’t know, do I?” I snap back.
“Doubtful. Besides, I already have the name you will be
called and there will be no arguments.” He holds his hand up as I open my mouth
to argue. “None, young lady. You will learn respect while you are here.”
“Fine, as long as you respect me, I will respect you,” I
retort.
He glares down at me from his six feet seven inches. I was
right in my assumption that he is the same height as Fraser was. I can see that
he isn’t used to be spoken to in such a manner, but just this side of fleeting,
I see a glimmer of amusement. Good, I can work with that.
“Look, Drake,” I say, pulling myself up to my full five feet
three inches. No way am I calling him “Dad.” “I am the Queen of the
Underworld,” I start, knowing I don’t act much like it most of the time but, “I
hold the same station as you do and I will be treated accordingly.”
He glowers at me. “You are Princess of this Court and
I will treat you accordingly to that post.”
“Are you this much of a pain in the arse with your sons?” I
ask him, suddenly getting fed up with his superior attitude.
He lets out a loud guffaw, to his own--never mind
my--astonishment. “If I asked them they wouldn’t tell me…because they have
respect,” he says.
“No balls more like,” I grumble. “You say
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley