“Stop,” I yelled, too late. My fiancé had already plopped the lavender cake in his mouth. By the time I reached him, the Faerie had disappeared. I had schooled him on Faerie etiquette ad nauseum. Do not accept gifts.
“Didn't you notice her pointed ears, glimmering skin?”
“Yum,” he mumbled.
“Did you say thank you?” I asked, my tone grim. His answer would decide our future together.
“Yep.”
Distraught, I handed back his ring and walked away.
Saying thank you to a Faerie resulted in her taking your firstborn.
I discovered my pregnancy that morning.
Where could I hide from the Faerie?
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Heartwood by R.J. Cannon"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Denied by J.B. Corso"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Cold Recognition by Andreas Flögel"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Winter Feast by Pauline Yates"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>