Page 17 of The Unseelie Wish
“Hm.” Bayodan sat in silence for a long moment. “It reeks of urine.”
That made her laugh so unexpectedly she almost snorted coffee up her nose.
It earned her a puzzled expression from him. “What?”
“You’re”—she coughed—“not wrong.” Clearing her throat, she chuckled. “You’re really not wrong. I’ve just never heard it put so…I don’t know. Directly.”
“What is the point of embellishing on something so entirely grotesque?”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” She smiled faintly, leaning back against the wooden slats of the park bench. “Personally, I think it smells more like rotting garbage than urine.”
“To your nose, perhaps.” Bayodan flicked some pieces of pastry from his fingers. “Yet you insist you enjoy the city.”
“It makes me feel less alone.”
“You are not alone.”
“Right now, no.” Alex sighed. “But I was. Immensely so. Knowing there were people in my building, or on the block, or walking by them on the street—it made me feel like I was a part of something, even if those people didn’t know who I was and didn’t give two fucks if I lived or died. Or were more interested in mugging me than being my friend.”
“Your kind are exceedingly strange.” He hummed. “But I think perhaps I understand.”
“Haven’t you ever been at a party where you just wanted to sit at the edge and watch? Where you didn’t really want to interact, but you still wanted to be there?”
“Yes.”
“Same thing.”
He watched her curiously for a moment. “You are wise beyond your years, Ms. Alex.”
“Hardly. I’m a vaguely asocial failure. It gives me a lot of time to live in my own head.” She smirked.
“Is that why you wished to go for a walk and not to discuss what is troubling you with those who might be able to impart advice? Is this a desperate attempt to maintain the loneliness you are so accustomed to in hopes of clinging to the familiar, or did you honestly crave breakfast so very badly?” If she wasn’t mistaken, he was teasing her.
“Are you following me around to protect me? Or were you hoping to get a chance to lecture me on what I should and should not be doing?” she retorted.
“Both can be true.” He paused. “Ah. Yes. I see your point.” He chuckled. “Izael always did enjoy a challenge.”
“Excuse me?” She shot him a look.
“To our kind, true challenges are so few and far between that they are deeply coveted. I was complimenting your wit, Ms. Alex, not denigrating your personality.”
“Fucking fae,” she muttered into the plastic cover of her coffee as she sipped it again.
“Indeed.” His smile was faint but genuine as he returned to watching humanity do its thing.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, she sighed. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine. What should I do?”
He laughed. “I wondered how long you would hold out.”
“Look, Goatula, you’re the one who insisted on following me.”
That only made him laugh harder. “You have a remarkable way with words. Again, I see what Izael sees in you. He does love chaos.”
“I’m the sane one when he’s around.”
“Quite.” Bayodan’s laugh dulled to a smile. “As for my advice? I think, perhaps, Ms. Alex, you should truly address how you feel for the duke. Until you understand and accept whatever emotions you have for him—whatever they might be—you will be unable to move forward toward a concise plan.”
“The issue is, how I feel about him doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t!” She threw up her hands in frustration. “Either I get tortured and wish away the treaty, or I skip the torture and wish away the treaty. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I can hold out for three days of getting my fingernails peeled off before giving up. I was hoping I could hide with the Seelie for the last three days of the contract I made with Izael, but—blah blah blah, fucking fae and your fucked up rules!”