Turning, he revealed a very nice pen. It was black, plastic, and yet looked pretty fancy. In other words, the sort of thing a fae could touch without suffering. On the side, something was written. Moving closer, I realized it was in Anglicized Faeril. The English letters looked strange on my native language.
"Long Live Summer," I read, translating that to English.
"Nice," Keir said. "Then there's this."
Next, he passed me a pin. The sort that was used with a cravat. I'd seen a few like this growing up, but bigger and covered in many more jewels.
"What the fuck?" I asked, taking it from him.
"It's a tie pin," he explained. "To hold down the tie with our uniforms, I think?"
"Fucking stupid," I grumbled, setting that to the side.
"This one has vinyl records," Keir said. "And for the grand finale?" He held up one of those wooden loop things people used for sewing. "Your very own needlepoint!"
He flipped it around so I could see the design, and suddenly the love potion made sense. Some girl - and from the design, I was pretty sure this was from a girl - had decided to spend hours pricking cloth to make a very bad picture of flowers. Daisies, I was pretty sure, but the colors were all wrong. Maybe she was trying to make them look fae? That, or it could've been the only enchanted thread she could get her hands on.
"That's the one with the bad love spell," I told him.
Keir tensed. "What?"
"I already removed it," I assured him. "But next time, ask before you touch weird shit people leave for me?"
"Have this happen a lot?"
I swept the mess off the bed and onto the floor. "More than I want to admit." Then I dropped my ass down on the bed and started sending the bags, paper, and items to the recycling bins outside one by one. "As a boy, there was always someone who thought giving me a present would impress my mother. Many of them were enchanted. Most were to make me love them so they could get an in."
"That's so wrong," Keir said.
I nodded. "So when I got here and girls thought this sort of thing was sweet or romantic?" I shook my head. "I've had secret admirers. They don't admireme,though. They just like the title that was put on my head."
"It's actually the crown that goes on your head," Keir pointed out, but the curl of his mouth proved he was trying to pick on me. "Unless your crown has a title written on it? Is that so you won't lose it?"
"Fuck off," I grumbled.
And now he was grinning. "I see. It does, doesn't it? Property of the Prince or some shit?"
"No."
"So what does your little Summer Crown look like? Or is it a tiara?"
"Tiaras are for women," I assured him. "Princes get circlets."
Keir stepped back so he could lean against the wall, but his eyes were raking over me. "Gold, right?"
"Summer wears gold. Winter wears silver or white gold."
He thrust out his lower lip. "You'd look better in silver."
"I have no interest in the Winter Court!" I snapped.
"Didn't say you did," Keir assured me. "I can also tell you're just about ready to rip someone's head off. Care to share why?"
A wave of my hand sent the last of the stupid gifts to the trash. "This? Do you know what this is, Keir?"
"Some asshole's attempt to suck up to you because you're a dick?" he guessed.
Ok, he was right. Well, missing the point, but right. It was enough to make me sigh again. "Keir, this is some sycophant's way of showing they know who I am."
