Red's POV
I know I should be afraid. I know that Westley told us the faeries were starting to turn on us, and that my authority as a princess might very well mean nothing here.
You’re the princess of the wolves, I remind myself. Not the faeries.
But I’m not afraid. Maybe it’s Nova; maybe sensing how at ease she is around these two puts me more at ease. Or maybe it’s my own sixth sense over whether or not to trust people kicking in.
“Hello,” I tell the two faeries. “My name is Tempest Elianna Crescent, but friends call me Red. This is—”
“We know who you are, Princess,” interrupts the female faerie. She’s about the size of Nova, and her small, silver wings seem to flit as quickly as a hummingbird’s. “And we know who your traveling companion is, too.”
This surprises me. I can understand
