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Summary
The prince sat down with aquatic fluidity. Marsh-green eyes fell unblinking on Laverne. The faerie removed his homburg—impossible smoothness in the manner he moved, unnatural in a way that was hard to pin down—and his jade hair grew to the floor where it pooled and shimmered in long, snake-like strands.
The detective leaned back into his own seat, looked carefully unimpressed and thought, fuck.The White Queen is dying and someone is killing half-faeries. Laverne Rushes, private detective, is the lucky soul tasked with picking which royal might be the murderer. His only help: Irving, the faerie assigned as his bodyguard—a smooth, smirking liar with a taste for violence.
There's a catch—of course there's one. But the money's good, and Laverne's fairly certain he can just do his job and leave his clients to tear each other apart.
After all, this has nothing to do with him, hasn't it?
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Bookmark Notes:
this story is fuckin life changing fr
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