Silence met me from the other side. I panicked, thinking he must've already left, and I quickly whipped the thing open.
Ben stood not two feet in front of me, and I watched as his features moved from happiness into concern.
"Whoa, Sailor, what's wrong?"
I froze and plastered on a super fake smile. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
His brows mashed together. "Then why are you crying?"
"Oh, this?" I brushed a hand between us. "I stubbed my stupid toe on the foot of my bed."
His eyes followed my movements, concern growing by the second. "Then why is there blood on your hand?"
I quickly wiped my palm on my dress, but Mom’s blood had already dried.
Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry! I could already feel the tears building up behind my eyes, burning to be set free.
"Yeah," I said, shaking my head as I came up with a lie. "After I stubbed my toe, I tripped and fell. I caught myself before I landed on my face this time, but I still managed to scrape my palm and fingers pretty good."
Ben looked doubtful, but I was just thanking my lucky stars it was him standing there and not Cal. There was at least a chance of getting away with this ridiculous story. Especially if I moved quickly and changed the subject as soon as possible.
I shut the door behind me and looped my arm in his. "So, is this a date or what?"
He hesitated but eventually started walking. "It can be, I suppose, if you want it to be."
If the Storm King wanted dates in exchange for my mother’s safety, then I’d give that motherfucker some dates.
"I do. I'd like to spend more time with each of you, one-on-one, if that's all right."
And even if it isn't, we don't really have a choice.
Chapter 17
Turned out, Blackhaven was not that far from Nightshade and not that different from Blackleaf.
Peasants bustled about town on various errands and jobs, hands full of this or that, expressions strained and anxious. There was never any rest for the servants of the wicked king. Blackhaven did appear to be a little better off than Blackleaf, though. There were more stores with nicer fronts, more roads with prettier stones, and more people with fancier clothes.
I watched in awe as we passed buildings with actual glass in the windows, items of value showcased behind the panes—gowns, cakes, tools, toys. I'd never had a toy growing up. All I had was sticks and dirt and my overactive imagination.
Ben directed us through the street as the peasants gave us a wide and respectful berth. I didn't know if they recognized the Sand Prince's face—I know I wouldn't have—or if they could simply tell he was royal by the rich cut of his clothes. Either way, Ben didn't seem to notice or mind. Me on the other hand, I felt extremely out of place. I was used to being lost in the back of the crowd, not singled out in front of them.
In one of the windows was the most beautiful dress I'd ever laid eyes on. Cut from a cloth I'd never seen before, it was also styled in a pattern I'd never seen. With one thin strap holding the entire thing up on the left shoulder and multiple layers of flowing skirts like flower petals, it was a silken wonder. In the shadows, it was a deep violet, but when the light hit it just right, it turned a beautiful shade of magenta.
"See something you like, Sailor?" Ben asked, jarring me back to the present.
Apparently, I'd stopped walking and had my hands and nose pressed tightly into the store front glass.
I cleared my throat. "It's a pretty dress."
"Is it the color or the cut that has you so mesmerized?"
I shook my head. "I think it's a bit of both, to be honest, but mostly it's that shimmering fabric. I've never seen anything like it."
Ben grinned. "Enchanted silkworms from the Obsidian Desert."
"Come again?"
He laughed. "That's what it's made from. The worms create the silk, and seamstresses weave the fabric. This dress was probably imported from my kingdom, or Eristan, the nation across the desert."
"It must be breathtaking to see an entire kingdom of people walking around in shimmering garments."
"Hopefully you can see it one day," he said.
"I'd love to.”
And I actually meant that. That didn't mean I'd inevitably choose Ben, and hopefully I didn't give him the wrong impression, but I really did want to see his kingdom and learn what he was like when he was truly in his element.
Ben turned to me. "If you were a musician in a northern town, where would you go to play your instrument?"
I blanked. All I'd known were the mines by day and the clubhouse by night. But... I thought back to some of the books Gemma and I had read over the years.
"The pub?" I half asked, half answered.
He grinned and pointed to the biggest building in town. "You think that's it?"
There was literally an engraved sign with a frothy mug of beer hanging out front.
Just as I was about to answer, a drunken man stumbled out the door, took three wobbly steps, then tumbled off the front porch. He hit the ground in a puff of dust and was back on his feet the next instant, hobbling off as if nothing had happened.
I blinked and turned to Ben. “Yes. I think this is the place.”
The pub was filled with people but not so crowded that there were no empty tables to sit at. Ben pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.
I shot him a quizzical glance, but sat, nonetheless.
He moved to the other side of the table and sat down too.
"What are we doing?" I asked, glancing around the wide-open space. People sat eating at tables, drinking at the bar, and barmaids weaved in and out around the crowd delivering said food and drinks. A quartet of musicians was set up in the far corner, strumming a tune a little too peaceful for a rowdy pub.
I cringed. Quartets were obviously an even number. Perhaps we could find a random villager and make him a part of the band, just for shits and giggles? Or at least to soothe my grated nerves.
Ben reached across the table and took my hands. "You said you wanted a date, right? Well, I'm buying you dinner."
My tummy rumbled, but thank the gods it wasn't audible above the ruckus. "That's not necessary."
"Of course, it is. Every fine gentleman knows a lady needs to be fed properly, or she'll turn fierce like a wild animal."
I grinned and squeezed his fingers. "You mean like a shifter?"
He laughed. "Close. Except shifters' beasts are visible for all to see. Women’s beasts hide beneath the surface of their skin, waiting to tear apart their unknowing prey."
I chuckled. "Gods, it sounds like you've dealt with some seriously terrible women in your life."
"Nope. I've just learned the hard way that a hungry woman is an angry woman."
I rolled my eyes. "I've been hungry most of my life, and I've never turned beastly angry."
It wasn't until the words were out of my mouth that I realized how vulnerable I was being. I'd never really discussed the degree of my poverty before. Usually the topic made me uncomfortable, but for some reason, I was okay with telling Ben.
His smile softened. "How about, the less hungry, the more happy. And the happier, the better."
I nodded. "I'm willing to test out this theory of yours."
"Excellent, because here comes the barmaid."
The curly blonde-haired woman in question walked over and put a hand on her thick hip. "What'll it be?"
Ben ordered something I couldn't even pronounce. Fee-lay-nom-nom? The barmaid glanced at me with vacant eyes. Apparently, she had no idea what he'd said either.
"Fresh outta... that," she said, eyeing Ben warily.
Ben pursed his lips. "How about some chicken cordon bleu?" Cored-on-bleh?
I shot him an accusatory glare, as if we were from another planet and he was totally giving us away.
The barmaid opened and closed her mouth a few times, eventually settling on, "We do have chicken. Can I get you a wing or a leg?"
Ben sighed. "We'll just take th
e most expensive meal on the menu, please. And do you sell wine?"
She nodded. "Best port this side of the Blackwood Forest. Homegrown grapes from the Blackhaven orchard."
He shot me a relieved glance, and I stared into my lap to keep from giggling.
"We'll also have a bottle of your finest wine."
"Coming right up."
She dashed away, and I looked back up at Ben. "This meal is going to cost a fortune."
"It's not. It's just a drop in the sea."
I glanced at the poverty surrounding us. There was no sea of fortune here. A desert of desolation, perhaps. "More like a drop in the sand."
His smile fell, and he nodded. "I know. That's why I donate as much time, magic, and food as I can to shelters and orphanages. It's why I live in the desert. And honestly? It's why I order expensive meals and expensive clothing—it puts much-needed coins in the hands of the people."
I stared deeply into his beautiful brown eyes and felt my insides stir. "I never thought of it like that."
"You never had time to. You were too busy figuring out how you were going to survive from day to day."
It was true, but he didn't sound judgmental or condescending.
"Come on," he said, standing and offering me his elbow. "Let's hire these musicians while we wait for our food. That way they can be setting up at the Castle while we eat."
When we approached the quartet, they immediately stopped playing. As Ben struck a deal with them, I studied their wooden instruments. One man had a miniature set of cylindrical barrels, the tops of which were covered in some sort of hide. The second man had an instrument as big as he was, with a long barrel and a skinny neck, much like a bottle of wine. The third man's instrument was exactly the same as the second man's, except his was small enough to fit in one arm. And the fourth man's instrument was a long wooden pipe with holes notched into the top. It was absolutely fascinating.
"So, will a hundred coins cover it?" Ben asked as their mouths dropped open. The lead musician swirled his finger, and the other three started packing up their set.
"Absolutely, Your Highness. For the Storms, we would play for free."
"Nonsense," Ben said, with a wave of his hand. "Your music is beautiful. You deserve to be paid for your work."
I chose that moment to butt in.
"Yes, it is beautiful. You don't happen to have a fifth member in the quartet, do you?"
The musician grinned confusedly. "No, miss. That would make us a Quintet, not a Quartet."
I rolled my eyes but kept my smile plastered on. "Oh, I know, I was just hoping we could sort of round out that even number with something a bit more... odd."
The musicians stared at me as if I had a plague of stupidity and they were about to catch it.
Ben just studied me like I was a puzzle he quite enjoyed figuring out.
"I believe my lovely Lexicon has a slight case of Omalonumerophobia."
"My gods," the lead musician muttered in horror, and they all took a healthy step back.
"Don't worry," Ben assured them. "She’s not contagious. But I will, however, have to hire a fifth musician. You don't happen to know of anyone, do you?"
"There's always Billy," one of the guys suggested.
The leader scoffed. "Billy couldn't keep a beat in a burlap sack."
"Well, it's a good thing he won't be playing a sack," I said, trying to keep a hold of this chance to nix the number four.
"What instrument does he play?" Ben asked the lead musician.
"Maracas," he informed us.
I had no idea what the hell those were.
"You know what?" I said, looking to seal this deal as quickly as possible. "It doesn't even matter. The rockas are perfectly fine."
Ben raised his brows and tucked in his lips, looking like he was trying not to laugh. "You heard the lady. Round up Billy and head to the castle."
The lead musician bowed. "As you wish, Your Highness. We should be ready to play within the hour."
"Perfect," Ben said with an equally perfect smile. "Thank you."
By the time we arrived back at our table, our food and drinks were already there and waiting. I took a big bite of chicken, practically moaning as the savory juices filled my mouth.
Ben sipped at his wine, watching me with amusement.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
Right.
"What did you tell them I had?" I asked, taking another bite.
"Omalonumerophobia."
"Yeah, that. What the hell is that? Or did you make it up?"
He chuckled. "No, I didn't make it up. It's what you have. A fear of even numbers."
I swallowed just before my mouth fell open. "There's a name for that?"
"Sure is."
"How'd you know?"
"Um, because I read encyclopedias for fun?"
"No, no," I said, waving my hand. "How'd you know I had it?"
He shrugged. "I notice little things here and there. Plus, I have an analytical mind, so I'm always trying to read between the lines and riddle things out."
I shook my head in amazement. "Well, you're damn good at it, you know that?"
"Thank you, Sailor. I'm gonna take that as a compliment."
I took a sip of my wine and grinned at him. "Speaking of riddling things out. I'm curious about the other prince... You seem to be the only one who tends to bring him up."
He nodded. "Ash was the brother I was closest to."
"Can I ask what happened? Francesca said the Storm King..." I trailed off, but Ben knew what I meant.
He took a deep breath and nodded. "That's the general consensus, yeah."
"Consensus? It's not, like, a proven fact?"
He bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't know how much I should say. I mean, your mom's in the harem now, so I'm sure you'll find out sooner or later, but... the Storm King is not a good guy. He's done some terrible things, and he continues to do terrible things every day in order to rule the kingdom as efficiently as he sees fit."
Yeah, tell me about it.
"What does this have to do with Asher?" I asked.
Wait. Back up.
Why did he mention my mom being in the harem? Did that mean... the king used their mothers against them as well? Oh gods, if that was true, then I’d been wrong about them all along. They wouldn’t be anything like their father; they would simply be trying to survive him.
“The king felt Ash was too powerful and unpredictable,” Ben explained, answering my previous question. “Especially since he could change into any creature he wanted. He was also a smart-ass with a bold streak a mile wide. None of those things mixed well for him.”
I took a big gulp of wine and set the glass down, fingering the stem nervously. "So, the king killed his own son in order to keep power and control over the kingdom?"
"We believe so, yes."
I shook my head, pondering. "I still don't understand how you don't know. Surely, it's either a yes or no thing? He did or he didn't."
Ben's eyes fell shut as his brows furrowed. "The last time I saw him, he was... worse for the wear, if you will. But I was... unable to help him. I should have, though. I should have risked it all to help my best friend and brother. But I didn't. None of us did, because we were too scared that it'd happen to us next. The next morning, he was gone, never seen or heard of again."
"But he was immortal, wasn't he? I thought immortals couldn't die?"
He hesitated, glancing around the room to make sure no one was listening. "That's only partially true. There are some things even an immortal can't survive. Beheadings, for one. Or any severance of the brain and spinal functions."
Fuck, this descendant-of-the-gods gig was sounding worse by the second.
I rushed my glass of wine to my lips and chugged what was left.
"Maybe we should talk about something else?" Ben suggested, as he refilled my glass.
I nodded, immediately downing half of the new wine.
He
watched me knowingly. "Or maybe we should just finish eating and get back to the castle. I'm sure my brothers are wondering where the hell you are."
A giggle bubbled out of me. "You didn't tell them you were bringing me along?"
He shook his head. "I didn't actually think you'd come."
That made my heart hurt.
I reached across the table once more and squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Ben. This whole situation is beyond difficult, but trust me, I do like you."
He nodded, and the left corner of his mouth tugged up into a half smile. "You like all of us."
I sighed. "Yes."
"Even Rob."
Yes, even that broody asshole.
"Unfortunately."
The other side of Ben's lips lifted into a full-fledged smile. "We all like you too."
I didn't necessarily believe that, but it was getting harder to deny. Cal had literally called Rob out on a number of lies regarding me already, and the other brothers hadn't exactly kept their feelings all that quiet. Hell, even Cal had admitted there was an attraction between us; he was just choosing duty over his heart.
I sighed, feeling a shrinking sensation in my throat. "I don't know how I'm going to choose."
Ben eyed me intently with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Maybe Rob's right. Maybe you don't have to."
My insides stirred to life with a wave of heat and hope. There it was again, the possibility of keeping all four princes to myself. The allure was maddeningly compelling. I wanted that option more and more with each passing day.
But the Storm King would never allow it.
I had less than a month to choose one prince, or my mother would pay the price.
Chapter 18
“Where the hell were you?” Cal demanded as Ben and I entered the castle.
The party was already in bloom, with people of various degrees of nobility mingling about the place, drinks in hand. The musicians we'd commissioned were set up and playing, though the tunes they were playing now were much darker, more sensual than the ones they were playing at the pub.
Ben and I glanced at one another, like two kids in trouble, and I felt a rush of heat flood my cheeks.
Taken by Storm (Storms of Blackwood Book 1) Page 17