“Hello, love! If you want your father, he’s out with Ewan looking at a tractor.”
“No, Mum, I don’t want Dad. I want you. When you... When you met Dad at that festival—”
“It was a Druidian Festival at Stonehenge.”
That was basically the same thing. My mother’s perfectionistic streak is probably the direct reason I love clutter, and treasures, and little bits of life and nature scattered about me at all times.
“How did you sing your betrothal song if there were all those humans around?”
“I didn’t sing it then, silly. We dated for a while, then your father asked me to marry him, and I gave him my song. That’s how a proper young lady should do it.”
“But... But you told me when I sang the song, it would bind the man who heard it to me, make him my soulmate.”
“Of course, so you don’t go singing it to just anybody! You’d end up with—Chloe O’Neill. What have you done?”
There’s ice in her tone, and even across the ocean, I feel the power throbbing in my temples. I’m glad my parents’ house isn’t in a development, or their neighbors would have all lost their fillings.
“I met a nice guy. A wonderful man. I sang—”
“What is he?”
“A research scientist.” I think.
“No, no.Whatis he? Pure fae? Elf, sprite, pooka? Tell me he’s not a Leprechaun. They make terrible husbands.”
“He’s not.”
“That’s something. Well? Oh, for pity’s sake, not an Orc? Saints preserve us, not a vampire? Or a proper monster?”
I draw myself up. “Stop that bigoted talk, Mother.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just... Well, go on. Tell me.”
“He’s a human. All human, and considering I’m part-human, you’d better mind what you say.”
“Don’t tell me how to talk, my girl! There’s a very big difference between a halfling and a human, as you well know!”
“Not in Pine Ridge!”
“Town is a madhouse,” she mutters, but I ignore her, worry growing in my stomach.
“Mom, you’ve been after me to get married forever! I’m going to. I think.”
“You think? Did you ask him, or did he ask you?”
“Well, I sang to him, so—”
“Mary and the wee donkey! That’s an accidental engagement, Chloe! Easy to break, you silly wee thing. Have him deny your offer, and then you come home for a proper visit. There’s another Druidian Festival in June. The perfect time to meet yourself a fine young fae.”
“I don’t want—” I don’t want them. I want Jared. But I feel like now might not be the best time to tell her that. “Mum, I told him how to exit the bargain, and he refused.”
“What did you offer? Maybe your price wasn’t high enough.”
“Price? Offer?”
“Oh, when your father gets in! He taught you nothing about his side of the family other than to pick up every bit of rubbish you see! You’re part-fae! But you know as much about the Fair Folk as some stupid American on a week-long trip to Knocknashee! You must offer him something to release you from the bargain. Otherwise, his choices are you, a beautiful young banshee bride—though not so young as you could be—or nothing. Of course any man would pick you! Lookin’ to get his leg over, more than likely!”
“I... I don’t even know what I could offer that he’d...”
