A faerie is requested to entertain the son of the Daemon King
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"Primrose..." He repeated deeply, his tone almost as obscene as his gaze. My wrists were held in one of his hands, being squeezed tightly above my head so I couldn't free them.
I didn...
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A/N
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This is going to be my first book writing in the first person 😳 hope you like it...
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"Rose, your mother said that we should return right after harvesting the berries."
I shook my head at my best friend's murmur and stalked on through the green pastures, following the lead of a rainbow coloured butterfly. Freya was big on following the rules, always wanting to listen to mama and the elders.
"You're too worrisome Freya, there's only nature beyond these plains."
I smiled as the butterfly finally landed on a yellowing leaf.
So pretty.
It was a fons butterfly and the first one I've seen this year. They only emerge when the leaves lose their green and fall from branches to form colourful and crunchy piles.
I stretched out my hand, letting my finger only slightly touch the butterfly's landing spot so that it wouldn't leave. After a short moment, the delicate wings fluttered and a small weight was suddenly on my bronzed finger. I almost squealed but I remembered that my new friend was small and delicate and I didn't want to scare her.
"Isn't she pretty?"
I looked up at Freya, who nodded silently but I could tell that she was getting a bit unsettled. Her blue eyes flickered up at the reddening sky and she scanned our open surroundings almost anxiously. I frowned and an uncomfy feeling settled in my chest—guilt. As if the butterfly could sense my descending mood, it lept off my finger and left us to be alone.
"I'm sorry Frey, I know you don't like it when we're out late. We can tell ma that it was my fault. It's just—you know how she is, she rarely lets me out of her sight! The harvest is the only time I'm allowed to explore."
My frown forms into a pout as I think about my overprotective mother. I know she means well and her actions come from a place of love but I'm getting older and there are so many things I haven't done—things that I don't know. Everyone is always fussing over me but when are they going to realize that I'm a big girl, I can handle myself just fine. Around the time of the last full moon I nursed two baby deer back to health after finding them abandoned by their mother. I was pretty proud of myself after that and even mama said that I was growing up. So why does she still treat me like a child?
Freya only shrugged and looked over her shoulder once again. I know that she didn't hear a word I said but I don't blame her. She doesn't do well under stress and gets a lot quieter than she usually is. She generally prefers not to talk much unless it's to me but that's okay, I do enough blabbering for the both of us.
