by AE Watson
Prince Erick was not at all the man I had thought, and I didn’t know how to process that or what it meant.
Chapter 22
I woke with a start.
My neck was burning hot. I grabbed at the necklace and nearly tugged it off before it seared my skin but stopped myself.
Something was wrong.
Catching my ragged breath and wiping away the sweat pouring down my cheeks, I climbed from the bed and walked to the window. There was little to no reprieve in letting in the fresh air. It too was warm and stifling. But I needed to check for Artan. I listened on the wind for him but only the noise of the city outside the gates made its way to me.
In the mirror, I caught a glimpse of something I hadn’t expected. My eyes glowed green with flames flickering in them and the necklace around my throat was bright red.
Was someone doing magic on me?
I turned, seeing nothing but the large bedroom.
Grabbing a sword from my breeches, I crept to the door and listened for muttering or chanting but there was nothing.
The necklace tightened its grip on me, nearly cutting off my air supply, but I ignored the fear and allowed it to lead me.
The halls of the palace were dark and silent. I moved to the right, heading for my grandmother’s wing, but the necklace lost some of its grip so I took the left turn and walked, as it worsened again.
My bare feet were silent on the cold floors but my racing heart seemed to reverberate off the smooth stone walls.
Not a soul moved except me.
The party had ended late with most people leaving in carriages, but a couple had stayed over in the guest wing though the necklace wasn’t leading me that way. It took me to the servants’ quarters and down a flight of stairs I hadn’t seen before.
A noise caught my ears but as I passed the laundry, a woman was inside folding linens. She was humming to herself, not chanting.
I snuck past the doorway and continued to another set of stairs. The air grew dank as this part of the palace had to be underground.
The heat from the necklace was unbearable but I managed, proceeding to a long hallway with torches lighting the way. They flickered unnaturally fast as if a great wind was down here though I sensed nothing in the air apart from the tingle of magic.
Was Anamay here?
I eyed the one sword and my night dress and prayed she wasn’t.
But the fear of dying in my undergarments didn’t prevent me from moving forward through the hallway. As I reached a door that seemed to rattle as if it too were being touched by the invisible wind, I grabbed the handle and opened.
But what I found was not at all to be expected.
My poor battered heart cracked. Its last piece broke off and blew away in the wind. A breeze my grandmother was creating as she chanted with fury to the ball of red fire in front of her at an altar like I’d never seen before.
Was I dreaming?
How could she be a witch?
She was married and had children and—gods!
Regardless of the explanation, it was happening. I didn’t need to know how, only why.
My breaths were labored as the necklace did battle with whatever she was doing. Did she know about the necklace and was trying to destroy it? Or was she cursing me? The magic was dark, blood magic. Veins of glistening blood flowed within the fireball in the air. And at my grandmother’s feet there was a body on the floor. A woman I couldn’t see beyond the shape of her torso. Her throat had been slit and blood pooled around her.
My mind naturally presented my beloved grandmother every excuse as to how this could be, but there was only one logical explanation.
She was a dark witch.
And with that knowledge came a thousand answers to questions we had not yet solved. She was in alliance with Anamay. And she had been part of the evil plan all along. She helped murder her own son. She drugged me and got me out of the castle with the help of Maddox and his mother, likely pretending to be part of the wolves’ evil scheme. She was the “how” on every question we had asked regarding Barrel and Herrick. She knew my father was sterile. She arranged my mother’s rape to ensure an heir sat on the throne. It all made sense except the “why.” Was she so driven to have an heir on the throne that she would do all that?
I closed the door, unable to act or react. The betrayal hit hard.
The lights flickered faster and this time something new occurred. A storm began to brew my head. The torchlight grew halos and pain crippled me. The necklace tightened so my breath was a wheeze and the headache sent a painful percussion from ear to ear. I peeked at the stairs, uncertain where to go.
Did I stay in the palace, knowing she was trying to kill me, disable my necklace, or curse me? What was left of my heart was battering my chest and throat and pounding in my head. It was nearly impossible to come up with an escape plan with such blinding pain. So I did the one thing I imagined was the safest. Not because I trusted him, but because Egar and Michael did.
I made my way up the stairs again, hurrying past the laundry girl and into the guest wing. My head throbbed, forcing my right eye shut with pain as the headache worsened. I was going to pass out from the pain of it all and from the necklace choking me, though it lessened as I got distance from my grandmother.
There was one door to knock on. It was a gamble but I prayed a safe one. I couldn’t make it to Artan. I didn’t know if I would be able to whistle for him. So I lifted a hand to knock when I reached the door I believed was his despite the unbearable throbbing. I squeezed the knob in my hand and staggered into the dark room and closed the door. Lights flashed in my eyes to the rhythm of my grandmother’s chanting. She was trying to kill me.
Nearly crippled, I stumbled across the room, hitting something hard and tripping but catching myself in time to hit another object, a much softer one. I reached out, feeling the cool sheets of a bed and let myself fall into it. I crawled up and curled into a ball, feeling the surprising warmth of him behind me to contrast the cold steel of my sword still in my grip.
There was movement and a light filled the room, causing me to moan in agony. “Turn it out!” I begged but even my words were too much.
“Amillia!” Prince Erick gasped and turned the light out before coming back to me. His warmth was soothing and comforting. “I never imagined this is what you would look like when you came to kill me,” he whispered and pulled me into his embrace, prying the sword from my hands. “What is happening?”
“My grandmother—”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s trying to kill me,” I managed to say before I passed out from the pain and succumbed to the darkness.
The sleep was not dreamless or restful. I tossed and squirmed and fought an invisible monster. Sometimes I imagined it was Herrick. I could smell his foul breath in the air.
But there was a whisper in the background, a voice telling me it would be all right. I was safe. He would protect me.
And I didn’t know why, but I believed him.
Chapter 23
“Amillia,” a voice called gently.
I blinked, seeing the light and expecting pain but there was none. It was gone. As if the curse had stopped. I clutched my necklace, relieved to feel it.
“Amillia, are you all right?” Prince Erick asked as his face came into focus. We were in his bed. I vaguely recalled coming here after seeing what I saw.
It wasn’t a dream.
“You scared the devil out of me.”
“I met the devil,” I whispered and tried to sit up but was unable. My body was weak.
“You need water and food. I have both.” He got up and grabbed a cup and carried it to me. “I got it all myself, ensuring none of the staff helped me.” He carefully helped me lift my head and drink.
“Does my grandmother know I’m here?” I asked when I finished the water and lay back down.
“I’m sure she does.” He grabbed a bowl and a spoon and brought it over. “I made certain to disc
uss how much I wished to impress you with my ability to fetch post-coital sustenance.”
“You don’t strike me as the kiss and tell sort,” I said.
“Oh, I’m not.” He sat and again helped me into position and offered a bite of whatever was in the bowl. He intended to feed me?
I was hesitant but he was correct, my body needed food and I was weak. The first bite was surprising. It was cold and smooth and sweet. It tasted of coconuts and berries and something else. Something creamy. Perhaps yogurt from milk. It was popular here for the different dips and sauces they ate with their fish and flatbreads.
I ate slowly at first but as my body became aware of its nutritional needs, I sat up more and ate faster. He scraped the bowl clean and smiled at me.
“Pancakes?” he offered.
“You made me pancakes?” I asked, sitting up all the way, though my insides quaked with the movement.
“I did.” He tried to seem pleasant or light but there was worry in his stare.
“I would love some pancakes. Thank you.” I tried to cover myself with the blankets but there wasn’t much point. I’d already slept with him in my nearly sheer nightdress. The clothes in this confounded kingdom were the worst.
He brought over a tray of food. Pancakes and syrup, fruit, and eggs. It was cold but delicious. I smeared butter over the cakes and poured the berries on top and tried not to gobble my food but it was pointless.
He laughed and wiped my face as he sat and watched me. “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know what to say,” I answered with a mouthful. I took some cold tea and swallowed down the bite like a snake in Midland eating a rat. “I woke to—” I paused, not wanting to tell him about my necklace. “A weird sensation. Like someone was calling to me.” The lie didn’t slip off the tongue smoothly, and I did not fool him by the dubious expression on his face. “When I got to the basement of the palace, over near the servants’ quarters, I found a room. It had an altar. My grandmother was there with a dead woman—”
“Blood magic?” he asked, clearly more aware of magic than I had imagined.
“I think so. The fireball she was conjuring had blood flowing through it. She was chanting and suddenly my head started to pound. I knew she was conjuring magic to curse me.”
“And your dragon blood protected you?”
“Something like that,” I lied a little smoother. “I didn’t know where to go. I couldn’t call Artan, I was about to pass out from the magic and pain.”
“And you knew you could trust me?” That perked him up.
“I hoped I could,” I admitted and took another bite. “Egar likes you. Enormously. He is a good person and I like to think a good judge of character.”
His eyes sparkled with delight. “Egar is the best person. And he likes you too. He adores you actually.” For the first time, Prince Erick offered me the same look he gave Egar. His face lightened and his eyes shone with happiness. And it all made sense.
“You’re the shopgirl.”
“What?”
“You are the person Egar is in love with that he shouldn’t be in love with. You are the one Egar wants to marry.”
His cheeks flushed and for the first time he was the one who was flustered. “You’re—”
“Don’t bother denying it. It makes so much sense. I’m ashamed I didn’t see it sooner.”
“You mean because I didn’t act as if I wanted to bed you?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“No, because he was always watching you and excited to see you and the look on your face when you saw him was one of love. I assumed brotherly love but I was wrong.” I scowled. “And he has lied to the kitchen staff about a nice girl who wasn’t acceptable. Clearly, he was talking about his predicament but made you out to be a woman for safety’s sake.”
He finally stopped the act and sighed. “Because in the north this sort of thing is frowned upon.”
My chest ached for them. I knew impossible love too well. Perhaps not this brand of it, but mine was no less frustrating. “Florents is very open about men and women marrying. Did you know that?” I asked, seeing exactly how one would solve this though it would create two more predicaments.
“Yes, my father was fond of Florents for this very reason. His brother, my uncle, lives here with his husband.”
“Then you and Egar should be the stewards of Florents,” I said and took another sip of tea. My strength was coming back quickly.
“Neither of us could leave our people—”
“People who wouldn’t embrace your love?” I narrowed my gaze. “No. I will find another steward, with yours and Egar’s advice of course, and you and he will move here. The palace will be yours.” I spoke through gritted teeth, “After I get rid of the rat problem, that is.”
“Amillia, I can’t ask—”
“You aren’t asking, Erick. And I’m not taking no for an answer. You and Egar will be the stewards of Florents and rule here in Michael’s name. It is the most important part of the kingdom. Having you here makes the most sense. You are well loved already and connected. I should have seen all of this and solved it sooner.” I managed to get up from the bed though my legs nearly buckled with weakness.
“Now that I see who you are, I would have been honored to marry you. I’ve been wrong.”
His words brought a little lump to my throat but I didn’t respond. He was likely not as wrong as he imagined.
“Now how do you plan to deal with your grandmother?”
“That I don’t know.” I fought with the lump becoming more. “I have to go to my brother. He will know what to do with this. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“It was my pleasure.” He stood and walked to me, taking me in his arms and holding me tightly. “I am so sorry. I know how it feels to discover your family are rotten traitors. And that the people you love the most are evil.”
I nodded against him. “I’m tired of unearthing new conspirators to this plot.” I sighed and pulled back. “But I’m also grateful for finding new friends. I will speak to Michael. Are you coming with me?”
“Are we flying on that dragon?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m in!” His eyes lit with excitement.
I could live a hundred years and still not understand boys or men.
“I’ll leave my grandmother a note. Grab your things and be in my room in five minutes.” I picked up my sword carefully and walked ever so slowly to the door.
The hallway wasn’t empty this time. There were servants busying themselves about the palace halls, curtseying to me as I made my way back to my room.
A measure of fear lingered as I opened the door but fortunately the room was empty, just as I had left it.
My want to hurry and my ability were at odds but I managed to get a note written explaining of Michael needing me, and stuffed my few belongings into my small rucksack. Changing clothes into my band and breeches and tunic was the toughest part but I pushed on and was dressed, complete with my swords at my sides when Erick came into the room following a gentle knock. He too had a small sack of things in his hand.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded and locked the door behind him.
I walked to the balcony where the windows and doors were already opened from last night’s fever sweats. Erick stood next to me, looming over me as he glanced about, waiting for the dragon to arrive but before I could whistle he said something I hadn’t thought of, “What if she wants you to call for Artan? What if making you sick was a way to get you to call for him to ensure he comes instead of your aunt Mani?”
My stomach tightened. “Gods, you’re probably right.” I walked back into the bedroom and pulled a pearl from the small bag of them and dropped it. I stepped down as hard as I could manage, crushing it on the floor. The dust wafted up into the air and turned bright blue.
A moment later the wall began to rattle and a door formed and opened. Mani scowled at us. “You cal
led?” she asked from the gap in the wall leading to my brother’s den in the Black Keep.
We hurried through, Erick helping me to walk faster than I could on my own.
“What’s happened? You look dreadful.” Michael hurried to us.
“Grandmother is evil,” I muttered and took a seat in the large chair in front of Michael’s vast desk. “She tried to curse me.”
He scowled as Mani closed the door and the wall sealed again.
“That’s not possible!” Mani gasped but Michael was silent. “I would know, surely I would know if your grandmother was a witch.”
“I need to see your coven again,” I muttered. “And I need to call to Artan and tell him I’m here. I don’t want him checking up on me in Florents.”
“What’s all the commotion about?” Egar came hurrying into the room. He smiled seeing us. “When did you two get back?”
“Just now.” I couldn’t help but lighten a little seeing him.
“She knows,” Erick offered cautiously.
“She does?” Michael asked and glanced at me.
“You knew?” I asked Michael, offended. “You were going to marry me off to him and you knew?”
“Oh Gods,” Egar groaned. “Now everyone will know. She can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
“She has an idea.” Erick walked to Egar and took his hand. The light on my cousin’s face and the love in his eyes, though conflicted and weary, was beautiful. “She wants us to rule in Florents together.”
“Florents!” Egar gasped but Michael nodded. “Why in the Gods would we live in—?”