by Rebecca Grey
“What?” I finally laughed.
A shy smile warmed her still-blushing face, “You’ve never called me princess before.”
I lifted my eyebrows. She wasn’t wrong. For so many years I had been prince, and princess had been a title I was never willing to give to anyone. I had reserved it for Ryker, stuck so stubbornly in my head and my heart. But for once, princess wasn’t a title I had to give out, it was just a word.
And I may have given it too freely. Shavarra’s gaze held a want in it that I would never be able to give her. We both knew it.
My smile fell, “Shavarra, it’s only a word.”
Jesseline’s intense stare narrowed on the two of us, our gazes making contact for the briefest second. Like she could feel exactly where the tension was coming from.
Shavarra laughed, “I know it’s stupid of me, to think that you would ever share that title with me. But sometimes when you play like you do… it gives me hope.”
Oh, I was a stupid, stupid man. I knew returning to her night after night would create an attachment. And it had. I had thought the attachment was only on my end. Though to be clear, it wasn’t her love that I had been after all these years. If that made me a bad person, then so be it.
“Don’t say that,” I whined. “You know this thing between us is nothing. Casual.”
“Casual in the way that you sleep in my bed more often than you don’t?” she paused to chew on her lip. “And don’t try to act like you are only there for the sex. How many nights have you slept next to me just to have a warm body at your back?”
She was right. I hated being alone. My dreams had ruined me so often that it hurt to feel the empty space in my large, cold bed. Shavarra willingly filled that hole for me.
“Okay, okay. So do you want to stop? Do you want me to leave you alone?” I tried to keep my voice low and soft to avoid gaining the attention of the nymphs that walked behind us. What was going on with her? Why bring it up now?
“No,” she frowned.
“Then what is your problem?”
The instant I said it, I regretted it. Her face fell for a moment before she schooled her features into apathy.
“You asked, Dace. And maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Shavarra laughed coldly, falling behind me.
We both knew what the problem was, and it was my own fault that it was happening. Though, her hurt had been an unexpected dagger to my heart. Because even if I didn’t love Shavarra, I cared about her.
She was like my sister. The sister that I fucked. Oh gods, that sounded disturbing. She was only supposed to be a fuck buddy, she wasn’t supposed to be someone who became important to me.
Jesseline pulled herself forward from her position, casually walking over to me, then on by me. “Smooth,” she whispered in passing. It was clear she was Shavarra’s friend. Perhaps her real friend, since I seemed to only wreck her.
Half of me wanted to chase after her. My head turned side to side as I tried to find an able body to take the cot from me. It’s weight pressed into my shoulders that were already sore from the straps of the backpack. But there wasn’t anyone around who could take the turn.
The other half of me sighed in relief at the thought that I didn’t have to confront that particular issue right now. And I had the excuse, no one could take this cot right now.
A few miles up the road we would run into an old trading post where there should be a well. When we rested, we could talk about this a little more. If she even wanted to talk to me.
I focused on the effort it took to carry all this weight on my back. Sometimes the physical equation to the mental struggle was a welcome distraction. We had already traveled relatively far, only stopping when we had to. Snow began to fade, melting away with the mild weather of the Acture Court. It’s central location in Stylica gave it the more pleasurable weather, as it did the Obtune Court. The Twinity Court and the Heathern Court bore the brunt of the cold and the heat.
Tall trees cast their shadows over the dirt that we trod. Sunlight poked through the interwoven limbs and made up the contrast to the shadows in its own odd pattern. Mild chatter followed me. The urge to look over my shoulder for Shavarra rose up in my thoughts more often than I’d like to admit.
An unattractive amount of sweat built up over my brow the longer I carried the cot, the person at the rear getting switched out with someone I couldn’t see. Before, with the title of prince, I didn’t feel like I needed to worry about people finding me attractive. Beauty came with the title, it’s what made them like me. But now… I fought with myself about whether or not I should wipe my forehead. If I was more attractive, then more people would like me. That was just math.
Just math of the upper class, I tried to remind myself. These people didn’t care if you were attractive or not. So I let the sweat build, until it dripped annoyingly and I couldn’t be bothered with the feeling any longer.
Miles passed like this. The rise and fall of conversations behind me, my mind starting imaginary conversations then stopping at the idiocy of it, and the ache in my back only growing stronger. The trading spot was getting closer, it had to be.
Jesseline materialized in front of me, her hand already pulling out a weapon. My feet came to a sudden stop, the cot smacking me on the back of the head as the person behind me took their next step.
“I suggest you put that cot down,” she said, cocking her head to the side.
“And why is that?” I asked, already taking the opportunity to set it down. The nymph on the other end followed suit.
She opened her mouth to answer, but instead disappeared and reappeared five feet ahead as an arrow shot through the space she once was.
“We aren’t alone any longer,” she smiled, like the thrill of the fight was what she lived for. Then she vanished again.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again.
Quickly, I twisted my body around, my gaze already looking for her icy blonde hair and persistent lavender eyes. Our eyes locked, the space between me and Shavarra an uncomfortably long distance, with more bodies between us than I could count.
Men's voices rose from the woods on either side of us. I reached for the knives on my belt. Metal, warm from being pressed against my body, met my fingers like an old, familiar lover.
A deafening boom sounded near the rear of our fleeing caravan. My heart stopped, fearing how close it was to Shavarra. Thick tree trunks shattered, shrapnel flying in all directions from the blast that shook our feet and sent nymphs hurling through the air. Even at my distance, I wasn’t safe. The force of the explosion sent me flying backwards, my back hitting the ground and sliding through the dirt as the air was forced out of my lungs. The weapons in my hands scattered around me.
A ringing began in my ears, the muffled sound of nymphs crying out in surprise and pain all around me. Dust filled the air. My vision blurred, and I blinked to make sense of it all as I saw figures rush forward out of the forest. Blue and white uniforms with patches of thorn-covered snowflakes. Men from the Twinity Court army.
Soft, pliable dirt met my fingertips as I felt the ground for my knives. Anger flooded me as I found their beaten handles on the ground around me. I blinked, clearing my vision, and the body of a soldier hurtling down the hill neared our path. With one smooth motion, I sent a knife spinning through the air. It met his throat. His body toppled to the ground, the men behind him ran forward and jumped over him like they didn’t know him.
Jesseline and Slyke appeared and disappeared with frantic swipes of their swords, just to keep the men on the ground from advancing on our already-broken group. Nymphs crawled from where the explosion had hit. But some of them had yet to make it off the ground. They drug themselves forward, leaving behind lines in the dirt of their mangled bodies.
Shavarra had to be one that was getting up, I assured myself as I stood with a new rage welling within me. There wasn’t time for me to look for her, or to question her safety. I had to hope for the best and protect what was left of us.
I ran forward. Another arrow whizzed through the air. My head snapped in the direction it came from, the archer perched in the limbs of a tree. Magic welled within me, tingling over my skin. In the blink of an eye, the earth below me was gone and replaced with the bark of a tree.
“Hello there,” I said to the archer, who jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his bow.
His hands reached to re-nock the arrow, as if that would help him, and I lunged forward. My shoulder collided with his chin as I wrapped my arms around him and we fell through the air together. At this height, the drop would kill him if he didn’t have enough noble fae blood in him. At least, if he did, it would knock him out. Served him right.
“Sorry, but I can’t stay longer, you’ll have to take the rest of the trip by yourself,” I growled as my power pulled me back to the trail.
I settled in a low crouch on the edge of the forest, catching his short-lived scream and the sound of his body crunching against the ground with a thud. Men still trickled over the hill, though not as many as I expected at the beginning of the fight. My parents had clearly underestimated us. Which was offensive, but whatever.
Pushing off the ground, I sprinted into the woods, flinging my knives into any uncovered piece of flesh available. Eye sockets usually worked the best when using plenty of force with my long tipped daggers, but getting them right in the jugular was also satisfying.
As their bodies dropped I darted past them, pulling my blades out as I went by. I didn’t care if blood stained my belt line as I slipped them back into place.
Jesseline and Slyke still popped up, in and out of what was left of the men, but slowed as their numbers lessened. A few nymphs even gave it a go, slicing through soldiers with weapons they picked up off the ground. It didn’t matter if you were trained if you were angry enough and had the gods on your side.
With the attempt on us coming to a quick end, I wove through nymphs to where I'd seen Shavarra last. I froze. Blonde hair spilled over the ground, blood trickling down her face, her body still. A nervous, stuttering breath filled my chest as I burst back into motion.
Dirt clouded around my feet as I ran the last few yards to her. Her chest rose with a shallow breath. The rustle of a soldier in the trees pulled my attention.
He locked eyes with me, his face freezing in fear as my unbridled anger ripped through me with a wild roar. The soldier turned to run away, scampering up the hill, though it was no use.
I appeared in front of him. My magic was tired from overuse. His eyes grew wider and his mouth fell open. He made a pitiful soldier if he was fleeing like this, or maybe he was smart to run from me. My arm shot out and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up in the air as I listened to the gurgling sound he made as he fought me.
“Tell my mother I said ‘hi’,” I hissed before throwing him at my feet. “Now run faster, before I regret sparing your life.”
The man gasped, his feet searching for purchase underneath him before he could even get air into his body. I didn’t take any more time to see if he kept going or not as I dropped into the dirt before Shavarra once more.
Jesseline and Slyke seemed to be doing their final sweep of the forest, no more soldiers appearing. Nymphs around us were helping each other up and examining any new injuries. They were less frantic than the last time. Like they had come to expect that bad things were going to happen.
“Shavarra. Oh, Shavarra,” I murmured, rolling her head to the side to examine her injuries. Her mouth opened, but no noise was emitted. Splinters from the fractured trees were embedded in her skin, none deep enough to do serious damage. No, the head injury was what had done it.
Carefully, I slipped my arms under her. The full weight of her body dropped into my arms. We had to get to the Heathern Court. We had to get to Ryker. And we had to get there faster.
FOUR
Milo
The white stone steps of the castle led down to the waiting buggy. A restless horse huffed and shimmied within its bindings, waiting for the order to carry us forward. It was a simple enough carriage, no flashy insignias or sparkling jewels embedded in the wood. Just an open cart, with enough space for two people to sit with the reins, or lay in the back with the packed food.
My throat bobbed as I swallowed. Princess Maggie lifted her shimmering auburn gown as she descended next to me. Her lips parted in an adventurous smile, her head constantly swiveling as she took everything in.
“Now Milo, I’m sending this scented parchment with you. Use it to correspond with me. Write me letters, I want to know everything that is happening. Every two days, I’ll send my bird. You’ll know him by his black feathers and the tie at his ankle.” Without asking, the princess opened the bag that hung over my hip and slipped the papers in. Her hand gave the bag a good pat after she closed it.
“Shouldn’t I be sending that information to your father?” I hummed, trying to appear more bored than scared shitless.
“Oh, you will,” she winked. “But he will send his bird every four days. So you’ll need to write a lot of letters. Keep in mind, we're friends, and friends don’t leave out the juicy details.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to the contrary.” My feet met at the bottom of the stairs, my hand already clasping the side of the wagon. “Now, shouldn’t we get this show on the road?”
“No need to rush. It’s only a few days' travel. Just follow the sunrise and eventually you’re bound to run into the Acture Court. Nevertheless… come, come.”
The delicate flick of her wrist signaled the waiting guards, who prodded the unlucky nymph girl forward. Red’s scowl had never appeared deeper, creating a sharp wrinkle between her eyebrows. Loud metal shackles rattled with every step she took down the stairs. Both her hands and ankles were bound. She didn’t fight them, but she also didn’t seem like she was coming willingly.
“I will miss your cooking, Red,” Maggie pouted. “Well, have a nice trip.” She pointed at a long slender finger at me, while I leaned impatiently by the wagon wondering how sincere her words were. “Don’t forget. Every. Juicy. Detail.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grunted, lifting Red into her seat at the front of the wagon. Her body slumped against me, legs and arms dangling as much as she could manage them with the bonds. She let all her dead weight fall into the lack of movement. If she had weighed any more it would have been an inconvenience, but even with her resistance she was still relatively light. “You’re bound to make this rather difficult aren’t you?” I hissed.
“Well, it would be very unlike me to make it easy,” she sniffed, lifting her chin.
Despite Maggie’s confidence that this would be a quick trip, I had the feeling it was going to drag on and on.
With a chuckle, I walked around the carriage and found my seat next to her. Leather reins warmed by the sun felt like silk in my hands as I scooped them up and looked at Red, before giving Princess Maggie a final wave, and gave them a yank. The wagon lurched forward. Our bodies rocked against the seats and we sat quietly until we put distance between us and Princess Maggie.
“You know, I’ve never seen you in bindings,” I leaned over, letting my voice rasp softly into her ear. “Would it be ungentlemanly of me to say that I like it?”
Red stiffened. Her spine became impossibly straight as she tilted away from me with her dagger gaze.
“Oh, calm down,” I smiled. “I’m taking those off as soon as we get out on the road.”
“What makes you think that I won't run away?” Red huffed.
“What makes you think that I won't catch you?”
She sighed, reclining into her seat. It may be a very long ride indeed if she was bound and determined to hate me so. Not that I blamed her, she was a slave and I was the man charged with dragging her off to see how badly she could be tortured. Something inside me rallied with happiness at the thought. Not of it being Red. But at the idea that I may actually get to be a part of something I was good at, and something I actually enjoyed. I guessed that mad
e me a sadist.
“So, since I’m being taken away to my death anyway, care to share your actual story?” Red had the audacity to look over at me with those half-hooded eyes, like this conversation was the only thing keeping her from dozing off with the sway of the wagon.
I glanced back toward the distant white castle walls, the gate on the perimeter passing and closing behind us. She did have a point. I didn’t really think with how bad of shape she was already in that she could make it through whatever torture the Acture Court had in store for her. My head still got a little foggy when I thought about the idea that the king had spared my life and was instead going to use me as a mole in another court. It’s like I was a spy, spying for the person I was spying on. A spy within a spy within a spy. Except for the fact that I wasn’t, I reminded myself.
It would be nice to share something with someone while I was here, and there wasn’t anyone else I could even talk to. My eyes roamed the passing city streets I had once strolled through looking for work. Only this time, I was wearing a simple guard uniform. Not too dressy for travel, but still presentable enough for when we arrived at the Acture Court. And of course, the material was suffocating. I slipped my finger into my collar, tugging it away from my neck.
“You wouldn’t believe my story, even if I told you,” I mused.
“Well, it isn’t like I have anything else to amuse me on this long-ass ride to my death.” She tilted her head up to the sky, letting the sun play over her features. For a second, the angular point of her nose, the paper thin line her lips were pressed in, and the narrowness of her far too small eyes actually looked… attractive. Like the sun was where she really thrived.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing them closed as tightly as I could, then opened them again. That had to be a trick of the light. That, or this clothing was actually causing me to be delirious. When I opened them again, Red cocked her head and stared back at me.