Faery Godlover(5)

By: Lizzie Lynn Lee

The rest of the court gave a brief bow of their heads at the Queen’s decree, but Duada was dumbstruck. This was... beyond unreasonable. To be sent to the human realm and not even be allowed to sleep around, but rather to set someone else up on a date? The fae were notoriously jealous and fickle creatures, and Duada was no exception. He clenched his jaw, but after a few moments, he simply gave a bow.

“As you wish, my Queen.”

The Queen smiled, but then tsk-ed and waved him off. “Don’t be so serious, now, this will be good for you. It’s been far too long since you’ve spent any real time out of the palace; some ‘fresh air’ will do you good. Now off with you. I expect you to leave tonight.”

The Queen turned and made her way back up to the throne, and Duada held in a groan, turning and heading back up to his quarters. A headache was starting to blossom in his forehead.

And it started out to be such a lovely day.


Prince Duada crossed his legs in his seat on the first-class flight that was soon to be landing in Newark, New Jersey. He swirled a brandy around in one hand while he used the other to thumb through the dossier on this ‘Jasmine’ woman he was going to be looking after. His powers of glamour let him change his appearance to better blend in with the crowd, but he only used it sparingly to tone down the shade of his skin to a more human shade of tan. His amethyst eyes were hidden behind small, round sunglasses.His pants were tight black jeans, and he wore a tight fitting white t-shirt. A pair of stylish black shoes completed the ensemble. The way he carried himself exuded a masculine aura, one to which humans were particularly sensitive.

That much he’d learned from the fact that the buxom flight attendant hadn’t asked him to pay for the past three drinks. Perhaps I can see why some of the lesser fae enjoy dallying around with humans every now and then. It’s just too easy!

He sipped his drink while reading over the dossier thoughtfully. It really was a surprise this Jasmine, or ‘Jaz’ as she seemed to go by, had so much trouble with men. He peered at her picture, a smile forming on his lips. The Queen had understated her looks--to say she looked ravishing would be an understatement. He had never been one to have a particular taste for humans, but this woman was quite the exception. Lovely, curvy hips that were so rare among the fae, hair that he wanted to run his fingers through, and eyes that held a certain kind of earthy beauty that made him appreciate why the humans didn’t find their world entirely bland.

She was sharp, too. Duada didn’t care much for the arbitrary ways humans measured intelligence, but Jasmine seemed to have breezed through her higher learning, and she was qualified for a position far above her station as a coffee server. What on earth—literally—was she doing at a place like that? Duada rolled his eyes. Any fae would go absolutely mad at the prospect of squandering their talents. He wondered if he might be able to do something for her career, too.

Unfortunately, the dossier was rather more scant than he would have liked. There was basic information, but nothing that would give him any real insights into who Jasmine Duval was as a person. Was he about to have to deal with a total pushover, or someone whose personality steamrolled everyone around her? He sighed, taking another swig of his drink. His aunt did love tormenting him.

As he gazed at her picture, he found himself wondering what she looked like without all that clothing, even if he was fond of her style. It would be the easiest thing in the world, to just keep his glamour up and sweep into her life and off her feet.

A delightful thought, he decided, but not one that would help him get back to the Summerland Court where he belonged. There would be time for trysts with humans later, if he so chose. However, the lack of information his aunt had provided him gave him the perfect excuse to get to know Jasmine a little better in person, he realized.

As the plane prepared to land in Newark, Duada smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair, stowing his dossier before finishing off his drink. It was about time he got to know his new playmate in person.


“Uh, yeah, could I just get a white chocolate mocha Frappuccino?” asked a guy with a thick mustache and newsboy cap in front of the counter. Jasmine blinked dubiously at him, fighting the ever-present urge to roll her eyes, or worse, reach over the counter and slap the guy. He’d been into the cafe at least three times in the past week or so, and yet he still liked to try and order items not found on the menu. At this point, Jasmine wasn’t sure whether he was just doggedly devoted to his running gag or if he genuinely could not figure out that this was not a Starbucks.

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