Chapter 1
I have lived in Elfhame for as long as I can remember, since Joaalk found me and took me in, but I have never really belonged here. The fairies remind me of this every day. With their too-sharp smiles and their honeyed words laced with thorns, they make it clear: I am an outsider. A curiosity. A weakness to be exploited or a mistake to be erased.
I have learned how to survive. But I still do not belong in Elfhame. And I don't want to belong in it.
It is not just the way my dull, human skin lacks the shimmer of glamour or how my ears remain stubbornly rounded when the rest of the court is a display of sharp elegance. It is in the way they look at me. The way their eyes, too bright and too knowing, trace the shape of me like I am something fragile, something lesser. A novelty.
A pet, at best. A nuisance, at worst.
Strength, here, is not only in steel and magic but in knowing when to bow and when to bite. Jude, my closest friend—more like a sister, really—understands this better than anyone. She moves through court like a blade through silk, her ambition a quiet hum beneath every careful word. I envy her, sometimes. Not her ruthlessness, but her certainty. I admire her for it, even if I do not understand it. She plays the game because she wants to win, I play because I have no other choice. She's certain about what she wants and she wants to be accepted, to prove that she too can be part of this magical world despite her non-magical nature.
I, on the other hand, do not seek power. I do not seek revenge. I do not want to be accepted or recognised by them, I only want a place to exist.
But in Elfhame, existing is a battle in itself. And survival is exhausting.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to simply exist. To wake without the weight of wariness pressing into my chest. To speak without measuring every word, to breathe without wondering who might find amusement in stealing that breath away. But I know better than to hope for such things. Hope, in Elfhame, is a dangerous thing.