“You brought a teapot?”
“How else are we supposed to have tea?”
She busied herself with preparations, pouring water from the wineskin into the pot and adding several leaves of something that looked suspiciously like grass. A spark of magic lit from her palm where the teapot rested.
“Why not just magic a cup of whatever it is you’re making?” It certainly wasn’t any kind of elven tea he recognized.
“That’s a very good question, my lord.” Flames licked up the side of the little pot, but Rainne didn’t flinch against the heat. “This particular brew needs time to steep properly. If I were to magic you a cup, it wouldn’t have the healing properties I’m after.” She glanced up and met his eyes with a curious expression. “Would you rather it done quickly, or done well?”
Ooh, yes sir, he liked her much more outside of the castle. A giddy little hiccup went along his nerves, giving him splendid chills. He’d witnessed buildings built entirely with magic collapse at the first hint of a storm. Magic had its benefits, but there were pitfalls, too. Rush a spell and it could rebound. Place a curse with too much passion and it would become vulnerable.
“You’re quite an interesting conundrum, Lady Delarainne.”
“You mean I’m not as boring as you’d previously decided?”
Theo stuttered a defense, but she saw right through it. With a small laugh, she extinguished the flame and set the teapot on the ground.
“Don’t apologize, Your Highness. You wouldn’t be the first to judge me without knowing me.” Hands on hips, she turned to face him. “I suppose I did the same, based on your first impressions.”
He straightened, an indignant gasp on his lips. “I was perfectly pleasant the first time we met.”
“Yes, then you spied on my stepfather, showed your lack of knowledge about even the most rudimentary of elven history, expressed your boredom with our simple way of life, and within a day determined I should travel with you to Elvenwood out of some sort of charity. In case I haven’t made it clear, I like my life at Duir. I don’t need the dazzling elven court to make me feel alive or special or whatever it is that Elvenwood does to feed your ego.”
“Charity? I’m not taking you to Elvenwood out of charity!” Even to his ears it sounded false. Theo shook his head and stammered on. “I thought you’d be pleased to go with me.” Her glare cut to his heart. “Even with an illness, what elven high-born lady wouldn’t want to see Elvenwood?”
“That would be me. And I’m pretty sure I told you as much—and not just because of my illness.” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me, were you going to let me wear my simple, country clothing at the palace? Because I don’t own fancy silks or rich velvets.”
The attire she’d worn at her home would cause a stir at the palace, it was true. The long, flowy tunics with low necklines and wide-legged trousers in soft pastels were an extreme difference to the high-collared dresses of the court. His face warmed and a flush crept up his neck.
“That’s what I thought. I’m good enough to travel with you, but must be prettied up before presenting me to your parents? Is that it?”
“If you must know, your stepfather gave me money to buy you new clothes once we reached the palace.” Theo hoped the admission would turn her ire away from him to Finnick. He wasn’t used to women being vexed with him and was at a loss how to soothe her hurt feelings.
“He did?” Instead of anger, Rainne’s features softened, further confusing Theo. “Why?”
Theo dug the pouch out of his pocket as proof. She took the pouch, weighing it on her palm before handing it back to him with some reluctance. It was a goodly amount of coins. He wrapped his hand around hers.
“Keep it. I know nothing about fashion and you should choose what suits you best. Finnick has a good heart. He wants you to look every inch the lady you are and this will buy you a whole new wardrobe. Courtiers have nothing to do but gossip and Finnick didn’t want you to be the subject of their cruelty.”
“He said that?” Tears sparkled in her eyes and she wiped them with the back of a hand. “No, you must be mistaken.” Her tone lacked conviction. “He wouldn’t, but it doesn’t matter. Let me see to your wound. Unwrap it, please, and give me the salve Egritte made for you.”
He handed her the salve and carefully removed the bandages. When air hit his neck, he flinched from the searing pain. Rainne said nothing as she inspected the gash and applied fresh ointment. Then, being even more careful than he, she replaced the cotton wraps. Magic flowed through the fabric to his neck—warm and nurturing.
“Did Egritte give you leave to travel?”
Theo cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Not exactly. She said I’d be fit in a day or so.”
A strange expression flitted across Rainne’s features. Sadness or sorrow or guilt, he couldn’t be sure, but it was there and gone within a heartbeat.
“Your tea is ready.” She lifted the teapot and poured the liquid into the wineskin she’d emptied. “Drink this when the pain gets too bad. Just a few sips will help. I’ve spelled it to stay warm all day.”
Theo reached for the wineskin, his mind spinning to process her reaction and his own emotions. Something dark dogged Rainne’s days, but he doubted she’d admit what anytime soon. But through that darkness he saw light in her kindness. His pulse quickened and for a hot second, a jag of guilt ran through his thoughts. Regret that she wasn’t the girl in the forest or guilt that his feelings shifted in Rainne’s favor over the girl in the forest, he wasn’t sure.
The forest girl was gone. He had to accept that he’d never see her again. Even as the idea drifted through his brain, his heart rebelled. If there was a chance to meet the forest girl again, he’d take it. Yet the woman standing in front of him, who only a few hours earlier he thought dull, wasn’t at all what she seemed and he found this new Rainne almost as compelling as the forest girl. It was madness.
“Thank you.” He tucked the salve into his pocket and took a long sip of the tea mixture before securing it to his saddlebag with a silent prayer to the gods that it worked.
He turned back to Rainne and froze. A grizzled-looking faerie with dark clothes and even darker eyes held a knife at her throat.
9
The blade tore her skin, causing a fissure of pain along her neck. Rainne stood absolutely still, not wanting to invite the brigand to do more harm. His rank breath curled in her nostrils and she took slow, shallow inhales. The stink of his body was even more offensive. He wasn’t elven, and judging by his buddy, they were fae.
Pora’s eyes glowed from her saddlebag and she gave him a meaningful look to let him know he must stay hidden. The ridiculous cat would want a brawl and Rainne couldn’t afford to fight. Not now, not as an elven maiden.
“Unhand her, you scurrilous maggot.” Theo drew his sword and held it before him with all the confidence of a spoiled prince untested in battle.
“Give us yer money and no one gets hurt.” The thief’s voice rattled from a congested chest and Rainne had the tiniest bit of sympathy for him.
A second man held both a sword and dagger pointed toward Alona and Simpson. Theo’s manservant held the horses’ reins in his fist as if that were the only thing mooring him to the ground. His eyes were large and filled with dread. For her part, Rainne’s maid looked worried, but not overly scared. Most likely because she knew what she and her lady were capable of.
The ogress in Rainne struggled against her elf sensibilities and urged her to kill the men. An internal clash raged between her dichotomous personalities. Outwardly, she maintained a stoic presence, not wanting to give either of the men reason to act rashly.
Theo wavered, uncertainty clear on his face. Seconds ticked by as the men stood their ground. The blade pressed deeper and she suppressed a gasp.
“I don’t want to kill you, but I will if you don’t let her go at once.” Theo spun the sword for impact. A cold hardness fell over his features and Rainne shiv
ered. Perhaps she had it wrong and he was battle-hardened. The way he gripped the hilt and narrowed his focus to the man holding Rainne, while also keeping the second ruffian in his periphery, he appeared lethal.
“Give us yer valuables. Now, or she dies.” The brigand jostled Rainne and the knife cut deeper. A warm trail of blood oozed down her neck.
Rainne’s ogress cackled—despite the pain and blood and rusty dagger at her throat, she found the situation hilarious. It was for moments like this, when the ogress demanded control while Rainne was her elven self, that she kept the poison close. One day, she knew, the ogress would step into Rainne’s skin and steal everything she had—her compassion, her love, her magic. That day, Rainne would drink the poison. She’d already resigned herself to it.
“Do it. Kill me and see who mourns. Certainly not my traveling companion.” Rainne fixed Theo with a stare. “I’m just an easy excuse for him. Believe me, there’s no affection between us.”
“Nay, I saw ye with me own eyes. Ye fixed him up and brewed him something fierce. Yer lyin’ t’ me now.” The man tightened his grip around her chest and wheezed against her cheek. “I don’t like liars.”
Theo’s bark of laughter startled everyone. Even the second man, who held his weapons as if he were more accustomed to throwing dice than gutting innocent travelers. Without warning, the prince sprang forward and brought the flat part of his blade down onto the man’s wrist. The ruffian yelped and dropped his sword, swearing a string of curses that would curdle milk. Theo pivoted and knocked the dagger from the ruffian’s hand. It was fluid, like a dance. One that he’d practiced many times.
The brigand behind her blew a rancid breath and swore, but by the time the last syllable passed his lips, Theo had the tip of his blade at the man’s neck. Cool steel kissed her cheek and she kept still, despite the ogress urging her to react.
“You’ll release the lady immediately or I will dispatch your miserable fae guts from your body before you draw another breath.”
The hatred in Theo’s voice stunned Rainne. The ogress heard the threat as a challenge.
Alona bent and grasped the weapons the other man had dropped with the speed of a peregrine. She turned and tossed the dagger toward Rainne, who elbowed the brigand in the ribs and pushed her hands through his hold on her chest. His knife dug deeper into her neck before she broke his hold on her, but it was a small price to pay for her life. She snagged the dagger and turned to face the now trembling man.
Theo directed the second ruffian to stand beside his partner and ordered Simpson to get a length of rope from their bags. With both Theo and Rainne pointing blades at their faces, the men sunk to the ground and knelt while Alona and Simpson tied their wrists and ankles together. All the while, Simpson ranted about the indignity of it all. It would’ve been comical if the situation weren’t so severe.
Rainne’s hands shook as she fought against the ogress’s urges. Kill them. Gut them and spill their entrails. Bathe in their blood.
“No.” Rainne tossed her head to silence the thoughts.
“No, what?” Theo glanced at her, confusion dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No killing. Alona, leave these men some provisions. Enough for a day, two if we can spare it.”
Theo’s confusion turned to something darker, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he sheathed his sword and strode to his horse. Alona lay a wineskin, two loaves of crusty bread, and some cheese on the grass in front of the brigand who’d held Rainne.
“How’r we s’posed t’ eat it?”
“You should’ve thought of that before you put a knife at my throat. Consider yourself lucky you still have your appendages attached.” She stepped away from the men, the ogress disgusted with her charity. The men didn’t deserve her kindness, but she had to stand up to the ogress or she might lose her soul to the monster’s barbarity.
Her hands shook—not from fear or rage, but from her battle to keep the ogress at bay. She glanced down and horror slid over her senses. The top third of her fingers were a brilliant shade of jade. She dropped the dagger and met the mean little eyes of her attacker. Rainne put a finger to her lips and his grin turned malicious.
“Oi! Your lady ain’t what she ’pears t’ be!”
Rainne flicked a finger at the man and used her magic to silence him. Her gaze went to the other ruffian and she did the same. The ogress cackled and chortled her delight as Rainne wiped her hands on her trousers to rid them of the disgusting hue.
Alona moved so that Theo and Simpson couldn’t see Rainne’s hands. She took them in her own and stroked the skin until a soothing calm slid across Rainne’s horror, cloaking it for the time being. The color shrank from her skin until her fingers were remarkably unremarkable.
“My lady, you are stronger than you know.”
One of the highwaymen snuffled a laugh and Rainne turned from them before she kicked the stupid men in their faces.
Drown them in their own blood.
No.
Theo approached and told her to stand still while he cleaned the wound on her neck. He didn’t comment on the men, nor glance in their direction, and Rainne let some of her apprehension ease. This close, his scent invaded every pore of her body. She sucked it in and savored his sweetness.
The ogress’s obsession with Theo spilled over into her own thoughts and feelings. Rainne watched his features as he worked, noting the little V in his forehead and the small mole on his left temple. Such a silly thing to notice, but it was the only mark on his face. No freckles, no wrinkles, nothing marred his beauty. And beautiful he was.
Stop it, Rainne. You don’t like the spoiled prince. You’re strong. Capable. You’re in control here, not the ogress.
Except, it wasn’t the ogress who admired the prince. It was Rainne who breathed in his scent as if marking him.
Theo applied the same salve Egritte had given him, taking care to be gentle. An impish grin lifted his lips, as if he enjoyed the irony of the situation a little too much. Once the salve was applied, he wrapped her neck in a clean cloth, which looked suspiciously like fabric from the shirt he wore.
“When I said your stepfather wanted you to fit in at Elvenwood, I didn’t mean you should mimic my every fashion.” A twinkle lit Theo’s eyes and Rainne debated between smacking him or kissing him.
Lucky for everyone, she did neither.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” She gave a little curtsey and allowed the smallest of smiles.
As she neared her mare, Pora’s whiskered face peeked from the saddlebag. Questions danced in his eyes. Questions he’d have to wait to have answered. It must’ve taken a great deal of control not to leave his hiding place and fight beside Theo. They’d agreed that Pora should keep out of sight until the second day of travel, for surely by then, the prince wouldn’t demand he be returned to Duir.
She pretended to check her bag and snuck a cuddle to her friend. His purr wove its way to her still rapidly beating heart and soothed her fractious thoughts. Only a few hours on the road and already the trip was a disaster. She was a fool to continue. Even then, at that very moment, Rainne struggled to keep the ogress from asserting herself. The curse was getting stronger and she, weaker.
Being this close to Theo didn’t help. He was the bane of her existence. She lifted herself into the comfortable saddle and slid a peek at the prince. He adjusted his gloves and settled his ass into the leather seat. Her heartbeat stuttered and warmth spread from her core.
Fuck. She didn’t need this. An absurd maiden’s crush on the fool man. She was doomed. The curse would see to her downfall and she didn’t need to take Theo or anyone else with her. Damn him for being so attractive. With his broad shoulders and strong arms, and those damn kissable lips. She jerked her attention away from him and thought of the million and one reasons she couldn’t love anyone. Ever.
They left the wannabe highwaymen and continued down the road. For the longest time, no one spoke, not even Simpson. Rainne keenly felt Alona
’s eyes on her back, but didn’t turn around to hear what her maid had to say. She’d get an earful that night, she was sure. What Theo couldn’t know was that shortly after Rainne had been cursed, she’d instructed her maid to train with Njeeb. Rainne didn’t trust the ogress and if there ever came a time when Alona’s life was threatened, Rainne wanted her to be able to defend herself. Between the two of them, they could’ve handled the highwaymen without much trouble.
But then they both would’ve been exposed to Prince Theo, and she could do without his questions. He believed her dull and a simple country girl. Rainne would do everything in her power to reinforce that belief. The less he found attractive about her, the less likely he’d develop feelings for her. Not only could she never love anyone, she had to make sure no one ever fell in love with her—for who could ever love an ogress?
“It’s true, you know.” Theo broke the silence. “What you said back there. Well, part of it, anyway. You are my excuse to return to Elvenwood. But I wouldn’t say there’s no affection between us. I should like to think of you as my friend.”
Something in his tone led her to believe he didn’t have many friends. Not that he could trust with his life, at least.
“I would like that. As a testament to our friendship, will you tell me why you’re anxious to return home? And why you need to use me as an excuse?”
Theo took a deep breath and flexed his shoulders. “My oldest brother, Therron, he’s the heir to Elvenwood’s throne, but he’s cursed. It’s an ages-old curse that we’ve come to accept can never be broken.”
Rainne watched him intently. The way his eyes narrowed and lips thinned belied the nonchalant tone. His right hand covered his left, where he wore the ring with its gleaming black stone.
“When Therron dies, which he will of a broken heart, Thaddeus will take the throne. Don’t get me wrong, I love both of my brothers. Therron is a warrior. He’s stalwart and intelligent—he’d make a good king. Thad, well, when he can keep his dick in his pants, he’s actually quite politically savvy. Then there’s me.” He cast her a sly grin. “I have no desire to be a warrior and I’ve never quite understood the opposite sex. Well enough for a short while, but, forgive me, a lady’s mind works in strange ways that are like the occult to me.”
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