Page 6 of Fae Tithe (The Cursed Courts #1)
S ometimes, Eleanor wished she could tell her mind to stop obsessing over whatever subject it had decided was its latest interest. The Tithe lesson, the market closing, and answering to the Seelie Court.
The Tithe lesson, the market closing, and answering to the Seelie Court.
The Tithe lesson, the market closing, and answering to the —
She shook her head from side to side. C’mon, you have an essay bet to win. She glanced over to Marina, whose face was down at her page, focused on her work.
History had come around again. Eleanor leant over a small leather-bound book that she had borrowed from the school library.
Its neatly inked pages had begun to fade with age, making the book a little difficult to read.
The teenager cast her eye down the magnifying glass she wielded with her left hand.
With her right, she began to take notes on the first King of Seelieland.
She squinted through the glass, curiosity peaked.
The Last Dragon! There’s a name there . She pressed her fingertip to the page, unable to make out more than one letter, an ‘A’.
It might be somewhere else in here. She turned the thin, yellowing page and began to scan the writing.
Eleanor’s head quickly snapped up to a cacophony of noises behind the closed classroom door.
She heard the distinct footfalls of several heavy boots on the polished wooden floors of the school hallway.
Eleanor looked to Marina, whose concerned face mirrored her own.
Miss Taylor, frowning, rose from her desk and walked over to open her classroom door.
Instead, the disturbance came surging in to meet them as the door flung open, nearly knocking the teacher from her feet.
Three members of the Portson Guard strode in.
The space seemed to stretch to fit them all.
They were dressed in official finery. The trio wore blue linen, the provincial colour, under highly polished bronzed armour.
While Eleanor had seen all manner of faeries in Portson and plenty of humans throughout her life, she had never seen a pure Fae up close.
She dropped her magnifying glass on the desktop in shock. What is going on? What are they doing here? She sat up straight in her seat as nerves turned her stomach.
Miss Taylor’s words echoed Eleanor’s thoughts. “What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered as she looked up at the Fae. “Who said you could be here?”
Eleanor studied them, her mouth dropping open in shock.
They were tall and lean with perfectly symmetrical faces.
Each had a pair of arched, pointed ears.
That was the end of the trio’s similarities.
They all had different eye, hair and skin colours.
The Fae with ochre skin, tawny brown eyes, and black coiled hair appeared to be the leader, especially obvious when one of the others deferred to him as Captain.
The captain glanced down at the quivering teacher. She stood ramrod straight, clenching and unclenching her fists. Eleanor watched Miss Taylor lower her eyes, unable to meet his piercing gaze.
“Headmistress Fallon said we could be here,” he replied nonchalantly.
“She what?!” Miss Taylor squeaked.
They turned away from her, the captain shushing the tittering class as he took a long stride forward. Eleanor’s nervous mind, as usual, began to cycle through facts she knew. It was how she tried to gain control of situations that she was decidedly not in control of.
Humans are the dogsbodies. They can turn their hands to most practical trades. Eleanor recited to herself. Faeries have their specific magical talents. Fae though, exist to rule. It’s just the way things are.
She clenched her jaw. That doesn’t make it right.
After seeing how the handsome captain’s presence commanded the room, Eleanor realised that it was true: the Fae were born for authority.
“We, the Portson Guard, are here to carry out the decree of the Fae Lords of the Seelie Court. I am here to collect for the Tithe,” he announced with a velvet tenor.
You’re what?! Eleanor bristled inwardly. What kind of parent would want that for their kid?
“Oh! I am so sorry to have wasted your time,” Miss Taylor said, her false bravado obvious as her voice quivered. “None of my girls would be eligible. You must have the wrong classroom.”
The captain said nothing, but the Fae with blonde hair and pale pink skin flanked him and rounded on the young teacher. “Your own Headmistress sent us this way. Don’t pretend to know better than us, human ,” he sneered. “We have one name.”
The captain nodded at his fellow guard and unrolled a strip of paper. “Eleanor Neycur,” he read aloud.
Eleanor trembled as ice-cold fear skittered up her spine. She bit her tongue to fight the squeak of terror trying to escape her lips. Don’t say anything. They don’t know it’s you.
That plan did not last long, as her classmates gave her away by turning to look at her in shock.
“No,” Eleanor said. She gripped the edge of the wooden desk with trembling fingers as she felt a pulse of panic through her limbs. “You’re wrong.”
The captain sniggered and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. He gestured his head towards the teenage girl. “Get her,” he ordered.
Miss Taylor went to intercept the blonde Fae that had taken a long stride towards Eleanor. “Now, sir. Eleanor does not belong to human nobility, nor has her family given—”
She never finished her sentence. The Portson Guard reached out with one large hand and clasped the young teacher’s neck.
He squeezed so hard that a sickening snap echoed through the silent classroom.
Miss Taylor’s head slumped at an unnatural angle.
For a beat, the class was so quiet that a pin could drop, and Eleanor would hear it.
A girl began to scream, and then another. The Fae released his broad hand and the young teacher’s body dropped to the wooden floor. A sharp crack resonated when her head contacted it.
No. Blood screamed in Eleanor’s ears as she fixed her gaze to the crumpled body of her favourite teacher.
The cries of terror continued.
“SILENCE!” the captain yelled. He glared at Eleanor. “Coming now?”
Eleanor tore eyes away from Miss Taylor’s still form. Her heart hammered in her chest so fast she thought it might burst. She pushed herself to her feet, shaking, the chair screeching over the wooden floor. She took a single step towards the sneering blonde Guard.
“El! Don’t!” Marina cried out.
The Portson Guard who had broken Miss Taylor’s neck rounded on Marina. He strode over to her desk, shoving aside the tables of the other terrified girls.
“What was that?” he growled. He unsheathed his blue hilted dagger and pointed it at Marina’s quivering throat. The teenage girl whimpered, and a stream of urine ran down her leg.
“How disgusting.” The Fae scoffed, shifting his polished boots away from the puddle forming on the floor.
“Don’t!” Eleanor shouted, her voice quivering. “Please…” She put another unsteady foot in front of the other, battling the fearful freeze in her legs. “…just, please, don’t hurt anyone else.”
In quiet panic, clenching her fists, she stood firm in front of the captain. She stared up his massive form before her eyes came to rest on his.
“I’m Eleanor Neycur.”