A/N: This was written for YA author Holly Black's flash fiction contest. I didn't win, but I liked my entry and thought I'd share. Enjoy!
Kaye spun and danced. Music — soft as cattails and harsh as morning light — resonated in the almost empty room. She tried, somewhat successfully, to become more graceful in her own skin. The green hue of it reminding her of the grass that grew wild the summer she first met Lutie-Loo, Spike, and Gristle. Lutie would tie knots in Kaye's hair while Spike and Gristle playacted fantastical stories that, when retold, Janet never believed. Kaye realized then that she wasn't like other girls, though she never knew how different she really was under the glamoured guise she wore until recently. Shaking her head from the memory, Kaye felt the soft breeze her wings made as they fluttered behind her and still found it hard to believe she was a pixie.
She bumped into a table covered in glistening china dishes and laughed a little as one of them teetered on the edge. Many were already cracked or broken with hunks of splattered fruit and crumbs sprinkled between the pieces. Tall golden flutes bubbled over with something like champagne, but the liquid smelled rotten and stained the linens blood red. The celebrations and feasts would continue long after the coronation ceremony of the new King of the Unseelie Court.
Roiben.
From his dais, he gestured for Kaye to stand by his side. She felt giddy until she noticed a human girl with a clenched fist standing across the room. Kaye regarded her carefully, sizing her up and trying to discern from the other's face what she'd come beneath the hill to find. Revenge? Love? A better haircut?
Kaye leant close to Roiben, as he sat unmoving on his dead throne, and whispered past the silver threads of his hair, "What kind of cologne are you wearing that attracts girls from far and near?" She hoped for a response like, "I will never love anyone like I love you."
But Roiben said nothing and continued to stare in the human girl's direction.
Kaye continued, a little more playfully, "Looks like she's wearing sneakers, so we don't have to worry about a brilliant attack involving iron tacks in your wine." With a small smile she added, "Just to be sure, I'll drink yours first."