So we walked to the market through the woods. Just like regular people.
No flashy trumpets to announce our arrival.
No carriages to chaperone us either.
Surprisingly, Scarlette enjoyed the walk. She smiled and even skipped along—until I had to remind her:
"You're supposed to be a Dark Fairy, Charlotte," I whispered.
"Who's Charlotte?" she asked, blinking at me.
That question nearly made me faint. Or nosebleed. Or both.
"Erm—we're pretending, remember?" I hissed, already regretting everything.
"Oh, right!" She chuckled nervously, scratching her head.
"You have all the signs of a bad liar. That hasn't changed," I muttered.
"And you seem to forget you're supposed to have a permanent smile plastered on your face, Ravos," she shot back.
I froze. Of course. I was Ravos the Love Fairy today—not Veravos the Dark Fairy King.
"Right back at you," she gloated.
I gave the most unnatural smile ever attempted by any creature, mortal or immortal.
