Chapter Twenty-Nine

Marcel couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the woman standing before him. Her temperament was adorable, coming from someone as small as she was. He could see her arguing with even the Fates if it meant getting her point across. In truth, he was pleased to see how much more open she was since leaving that damned village.

As she glared at him, he thought carefully about his next words. "Well," He started. " I wish to speak to you of the future. More specifically, your future, Amelia."

She raised a thin eyebrow at his words. Marcel could tell she didn't believe a word he was saying, but he didn't care. It was better to plant the seeds now than wait. "And why do you care about my future, oh King of the Fae?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.