"Are you out of your mind?!" Mother demands before I've even made it up the trail. Her anger radiates off of her.
"I was at the market all the day. I sold everything but those two eggs," I attempt to deflect.
"I'm not talking about the eggs you dropped. I'm talking about the reason you dropped them."
I sigh. "Really, Mother, you speak to me as if I'm a child. You told me to find a man and I did."
"A man who just walked into the forest!" Her voice lifts to a screech, hurting my ears. "Find a human man, Cara, not one of them! Is he the one you made this deal with? Because that would be extra stupid."
I look at her blankly.
"I mean it, Cara. Stop all interactions with him this second. He'll disappear into the thin air as soon as he has your baby. The Fair Folk don't stay committed to humans. We're nothing but toys to them." Her anger is prominent in her tone but I hear sadness there too.
My voice is soft when I answer. "You don't need to worry about me, Mother. I know what I'm doing. But maybe you're only worried because, once upon a time, you didn't know what you were getting into. Is that why you get so antsy when I ask about who my father is?"
"Don't make this about your father!" she snaps. But she knows I heard the defeat in her voice. She knows I heard her underlying concern. With a deep sigh, she admits, "I don't know how you're so inquisitive when it comes to my moods. I do worry about you, a lot. I was terrified when you told me you made a deal with a faery. I'm still terrified to my bones."
"Mother," I ask cautiously, "is my father one of the Fair Folk? Is that how you know so much about them?"
"I can't lie to you, can I?" She sighs. "Come inside. We'll discuss it over tea." She looks to the forest before leading me inside. Putting the kettle on the stove, she motions for me to sit.
"I didn't know you drank--"
"Hush," Mother orders. She digs in the cupboard until she finds leaves that look similar to poison ivy. Opening the kettle, she drops the leaves inside, the plant hissing when it touches the boiling water.
I stare at her quizzically, but I wait for her to explain.
"This herb allows us to speak without being overheard, but it must be boiled in an enclosed area. It comes in handy when speaking about the Fae. Sometimes, it's as if your very thoughts procure them."
"So my father was Fae?" I ask, a thrill of excitement coursing through me. Excitement, with a twinge of fear.
"Yes, he is Fae. I believe him to still be alive. I've avoided him for many years, to keep you safe. Cara is not your real name. It is your middle name. I knew I could hide from your father, but it's impossible to stay away from all Fair Folk. There are too many."
"But why hide from my father at all?"
"Because your father is King Oberon. Queen Titania found out about his tryst with me and shunned me from the Realm of Faery. He knew I was pregnant at the time and still he would not overrule his wife's command. He told me humans had to learn the hard way, so he promised he'd be back for the child. I've been hiding you ever since."
"Wait. So Queen Tatiana is my father's wife?"
"Tatiana? No. Titania is his wife. Tatiana broke off from Queen Mab to establish her own mini court. She is Unseelie but claims to be her own. Still, she reports to Queen Mab, who is the ultimate ruler of the dark faeries. How do you know of Tatiana?"
"She's interested in the bargain I made."
"So then is that boy you bargained with Courtless?"
I blink. "I have no idea."
"You need to find out, but don't make it too obvious you're prying. If he hasn't claimed Unseelie yet, you may have a chance. Maybe not at wooing him, but you might be able to barter for more time on your bargain. You have to outwit the trickster."
"Why don't I stand a chance at wooing him?" I ask, mildly offended.
She leans across the table to cup my cheek in her palm. "My sweet child, it's not in your nature to flirt with darkness. You are half Fae, the good half. If the Fae you're working on is the slightest bit Unseelie, he won't fall for your charms. If you have any."
"I have charm," I argue, my heart twisting from her slight.
"I see no proof of it." She stands, going to the window. "Where are the men who fawn over you? Why haven't you had a single suitor come to the door?"
I stand abruptly, my palms smacking the table as the chair skids backward against the wooden floor. I glare at her, not daring to say anything so I won't regret it later. She holds my gaze, unperturbed, until I break it and storm outside to check on the animals. If Mother doesn't think I can woo a faery, then I'll have to prove her wrong.