by Rebecca Grey
“Oh,” I stopped awkwardly, wondering how good his hearing was. “Are you here to show me my way to dinner?”
Jerydin raised his eyebrows and turned on the tips of his toes, walking off down the hallway. I watched his scaled wings sway behind him for a moment before jogging after him.
“Are you just a guard then? A man like you, with wings like that, should have surely found himself in a better position than that,” I called after him, trying to keep pace and stay at his side. It would keep me from staring at his legendary wings anyway.
“I am more than a guard, but less than a king, if that tells you anything,” Jerydin said roughly. “Though if my dear, but annoying, best friend ever returns, you’ll find I’m not the only one in this court with wings to be ogled.”
How utterly unlikely. Maybe by the time this so-called friend returned, I would be done staring at Jerydin’s wings and would be less likely to appear like a buffoon around him.
“I’m not meaning to make you feel watched,” I grumbled the half-hearted apology.
Jerydin paused and looked at me with his huge saucer eyes. “Watch away. Sometimes I find that watching people reveals more about them than what they actually say.” His words were a quiet warning before he blinked and continued to lead me into a dining room.
Food was already heaped on platters and scattered over the table Windre sat at the head of. His sharp teeth dug into a leg of whatever animal had been cooked. He still smiled through the mouthful he chewed and pointed at the high-backed dining chair near him. His hand glistened under the fae firelight chandeliers, multiple rings adorning nearly every finger.
Jerydin walked to the other end of the table, pulled out a seat for himself, and sat down in it. His eyes remained trained on me as I approached the seat the king had offered. I hadn’t been able to see when I walked in, but as I neared the table's edge I caught a glimpse of Red. Bound in chains, and gagged to hold back her fiery tongue, she sat in the corner. Her shirt hung off her from where I had torn it. The peaks of her breasts were clear where her shirt had fallen down. Both shoulders were slouched, but she leaned away from the wall to keep her bare, still-bleeding back from touching.
Just looking at her like that felt wrong. I turned my eyes away from the image, my cheeks warming. Instead, I focused on pulling out the chair and examining the food options. What was the protocol for eating with a king? In Tierasia we didn’t eat with Queen Atarah, not unless she meant to use your body later in the night. And even then, you really only ate sweet dessert and fruit. I’m assuming Windre didn’t want to use my body as his late-night sweet treat after dinner.
“Go ahead and eat your fill. You must be hungry from your travels.” Windre took another bite of meat.
Happily, I lifted my plate and began scooping and setting things onto it, until the porcelain was no longer visible underneath. The smell drifted to my nose, creating a flash flood of saliva inside my mouth. If I was starving, Red must be too. I picked up my fork and began shoveling food. If there was meant to be a conversation between me and Windre, I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.
I looked up and caught Red’s unforgiving glare. I pointed at her with my fork, a roasted vegetable hanging off the end. “What will she eat?”
Windre glanced behind him like he forgot she was even there, “Oh, she won't.”
“Nothing?” I laughed.
“No, I don’t feed them till they are on the brink of starvation. Helps to bend their wills and keep them weak. We have to do a total mental reshaping, and that’s hard to do if it takes time to break their will power.”
He didn’t know how stubborn Red was. She was likely to refuse her meal when it finally came, and die out of spite. But the question was more for Red than it was for me. Gave her the chance to hear what was being done with her to prepare for it as best she could.
“Sounds like a fun game,” I mumbled through my full mouth. For the remainder of the meal, I wondered what else would be done with her. What sort of conditions was I going to have to endure? That thought felt selfish, too. Red would have it far worse than me. But that felt like my own punishment. Something in my gut had been twisted. And it didn’t seem like it was a good thing.
SIXTEEN
Ryker
There was a flash of hurried movement through the halls. Nymphs scurried after friends, whispering quietly behind their hands. I hadn’t reached my room yet to pack for my small adventure. What would I bring? None of anything I owned really belonged to me. It felt more like I was borrowing them.
One of the males, who had volunteered to walk the grounds, acting as a guard, sprinted around the corner and stopped at my side. I paused wondering if what I always feared would happen was happening. Every day there was a small spark of fear that Ganglin would return to take back his home.
“What’s happening?” I grabbed his arm and gave him my full attention.
“Graceson is back,” he panted. “We’ve been looking all over for you. He is waiting in your office.”
“Say no more.” Everyone around me became a blur as I raced toward my office. The door was closed, but I quickly leapt inside and slammed it shut behind me.
Graceson’s green eyes flashed as he looked up from under his loose red hair. One hand pushed the hair from his face and he gave me a small tick of a smile. “You’re looking rather well, Ryker. Glad to see it.” He set down the paperweight he had been rolling over in his hands against the desk.
As he stood, I couldn’t help but notice his wings. Healed. Scarred and more terrifying looking than ever, but they looked like they were in working condition, which was all I really wanted. He had been tormented because they had thought him to be something to me. Something more than a friend.
“Your wings… they look...” I stuttered.
“Ah, yes. The healer in the Acture Court is very gifted, and she did me up rather nicely. Even gave me a thorough body massage. Happy ending and all. So I mean, I can’t complain,” he laughed with a smug shrug.
I shook my head. Typical Graceson, which told me that he was probably doing even better than I had expected. Again, good news. But surely there was more he had to say than that.
“I’ve come with information I thought you might enjoy.” He strolled around the desk, his fingers trailing along its trim.
Ah, there it is. Tell me, Graceson. Let’s hear it from your terribly tempting playboy lips. I bounced on my toes, unable to keep my anxiety and excitement tamed.
“Tell me, then.”
“I don’t know.” He jutted his chin out and sat on the front end of the desk. “I’d rather hear about your time here. Rumors travel pretty far, you know.”
I thrust an arm out, pulling a brick from the wall with such force that the book on the shelf in front of it flung forward and smacked against his arm. “Tell me now.”
“Ooph. Fine, you don’t have to play like that.” He frowned and dusted his sleeve. “Hattie is alive and well.”
I let loose the breath that had caught in my chest and refused to be let go. I wanted to melt into a puddle of joy. Thank the Mother, Hattie was all right. And now I could quit using resources to scan the Heathern Court for her.
“I’m assuming that means she is in the Acture Court then.”
“She is. With Windre, of course. She trailed Ganglin once he left, trying to get this, um, box. Followed him all the way to the border of the Obtune Court before she abandoned her self-made mission and returned home.”
“That’s great news. So now we know where Hattie is and we know where Ganglin is. Did she say if she knew what was in the box?”
“No, she didn’t. And I think it’s safe to assume that Ganglin is rallying his dear friend Ottack, which is why he has moved his army from the Acture Court border to the Heathern Court.”
That wasn’t good. That was actually really terrible. We weren’t ready to fight an entire fae army. We didn’t have the numbers, and many nymphs were still trying to fine-tune their magical abilities.
“I thought you said you were bringing me good news,” I said plainly, trying to mask my nervousness. Did this change anything about me leaving tomorrow?
“No, I said I brought you information. No where did I say it was good.”
“You said I’d enjoy it.”
“Well you enjoyed some of it? Right?” His eyebrows shot up.
“Just the part about my sister,” I sighed and finally moved away from the door. Crumpling into the torn up chair in front of the desk, I looked up at Graceson. “You wanna tell me what the rumor is that you heard?”
“I heard that Dace is here. I heard that he is a prince again. And I heard that you’re planning on leaving the Heathern Court to follow him.” He said it plainly, not a stitch of emotion attached. Just fact.
“How did y--” I sat up, blinking.
“I have my sources.”
My mind tried to connect the dots of how the word had gotten out so quickly. If Graceson had this information, who else did too? Did that make someone within these walls a lying rat? I didn’t want to think about making consequences to actions like that. I was not Ganglin. And technically, I wasn't an authority at all.
“But,” he held up a finger. “I support this decision.”
“You do?” I said slowly, waiting for the trap it felt like he was putting into place to clamp shut around me.
“Of course I do. An actual alliance between the nymphs and the Twinity Court could hold some real power. Windre is just biding his time at this point. If you can talk them into something real, something tangible, then Windre doesn’t have to hide anymore. That makes two courts openly backing you. Not just one in secret.”
“You still think I should leave even though Ottack is directing his troops in our direction?”
“Absolutely. And the faster you leave, the faster you return.” His wings flared, knocking a folded map off the desk that he snatched from the air before it could hit the floor.
It was nice to get his opinion, and I must be doing something right if someone like him, who has been in his position for as long as he had, agreed with me. My fingers picked at the arm of the chair, pulling at a loose thread. “You don’t think it’s a trap, do you?”
“A trap in the Twinity Court?”
“Yeah,” I said under my breath. Daethian’s suggestion that they could just as easily take me in as their slave was still a prevalent thought inside my head.
“If it is, I’d say Prince Dace has nothing to do with it. I mean, I don’t want to necessarily encourage what’s going on between you two, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t look at you like he has been enchanted.” He fiddled with the map. “But if you say you’re not interested in him and you get cold at night, I happen to know a perfectly good warm body that’s pretty good for snuggling.” He gestured toward his body. “And other things.”
I laughed, enjoying the bit of sarcasm in his voice. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I don’t think Dace is actually serious about anything with me. I’m just his entertainment for now. One day, when he gets bored of me, he’ll find someone else. Best not to get my feelings too involved, right?” For a split second I had the thought that maybe this would have been a good conversation to have with Daethian, but then again, Daethian wouldn’t want to hear it right now.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense for a nymph and a fae to be together,” I laughed to brush off the awkward tension that started to settle on my shoulders and looked away from Graceson. “And he is a Prince. I’m a no one. His mom has set his bridal proposition, anyway. He’ll have to choose someone then. And as I currently believe that I am not an option on said list, I’ll maybe stay a little bit guarded.”
“Hmm,” Graceson nodded. “It didn’t make much sense for Windre’s parents to get together. But you can’t help who you fall in love with. But remember, if you get cold, you know who to call.” He sucked on his teeth and walked around me to the door. “I think I’ll go have myself a little look around and maybe visit our dear friend, Randsin.”
I waved at him, but didn't turn to watch him go. As much as part of my mind said ‘don’t go’, there was a bigger piece that held on to an immense amount of excitement, I was almost hopeful even. Hopeful for an official alliance, of course. No other reason, I thought again as I chewed my lip and tried not to picture Dace dancing with potential brides.
The Heathern Court had quickly changed from being my first nightmare to suddenly feeling like I had a hand in building what it was now. It had gone on without me, nymphs easily filling the roles that I played from day to day, but it still felt like there was a chance it would crumble without me. Maybe I was thinking too highly of myself.
Even though I knew I should pack a little something and catch some sleep before we left tomorrow, I still pushed off my chair and headed outside. I practiced the move Dace had shown me. I pushed my magic to build faster, smoother, deadlier, points until my head spun and my body felt drained. It could be done and it would be. And I wasn’t about to head into unknown territory until I had mastered something.
***
Somewhere past the daze of sleep that kept my body immobile, I could hear someone knocking, and my name being called a few times. It felt distant, like a dream that I had no control over.
“Ryker, are you in there?” the voice called.
I wanted to say “yes”, or more likely “go away, I’m still sleeping”. But my lips couldn’t move. My body still felt drained from all the effort of my work yesterday. That, and I had stayed up far later than I should have, only giving myself the opportunity for a few hours of sleep.
They tested the door handle. I could hear it jiggle, knowing somewhere inside my head that I had locked it. The rattling stopped.
“Ryker? Are you okay?” My boot shook. No, not just my boot, my entire leg.
Consciousness began to return to me slowly. My eyes were unable to open until I felt the soft brush of fingers against my cheek, pushing the loose strands away from my face. I cracked an eye first and smiled at the blonde-haired prince who leaned casually against my mattress.
“Good morning, princess,” he whispered.
I groaned and rolled to my back, becoming overly aware of the fact that I was still in yesterday's clothing, shoes included. “Damn, I pushed myself a little too hard last night, I guessed. What time is it?”
“Well, it’s about ten minutes away from time to jet on over to the Twinity Court.”
“No,” I whined and tossed him a pouty look.
“No?” He cleared his throat and sat up to give me his full attention. “What do you mean no? Do you not want to come any longer?” His voice was tainted with disappointment.
“It’s not that,” I laughed, finding my hand traveling to his and touching his knuckles lightly. “I haven't packed.”
“Oh,” he breathed. “That isn’t an issue.”
Dace slipped off the bed, the daggers on his belt tapping against the brown leather of his pants, his white button shirt snug against his lean torso. He had traded his boots for a dressier loafer, which made his steps quiet. With both hands he dramatically opened the wardrobe and gave me a quick wink before making a show of stepping into the chaos that exploded from it.
His fingers skimmed over material, pulling out soft pink hues until he finally clicked his tongue and pulled a hanger out. “Ah, here we are. This is all you really need. I can have new clothing sent up to your room. My parents will want you to dress formally for most occasions anyway. Hope you like dresses.”
“I don’t really.”
“Shame. Because I know just how beautiful you look in one.” He shrugged his shoulders and held the dress at his side. His chin ticked up and he turned to face the bedroom door. A knock sounded from the door. “Hope you’re ready because Daddy dearest is here to give you your free ride.”
My heartbeat sped up and my gaze traveled to the door. Dace twisted the lock and pulled the door toward him. His father, King H
enrick, stepped into my room.
“It’s time to go, love,” Dace whispered, and disappeared with a flash.
SEVENTEEN
Milo
Sleep had eluded me most of the night. I thought that after traveling so much, and missing so many hours of rest the night before, that I would hit the bed hard, and only wake once my bodily needs couldn’t be ignored any longer. But instead, my mind kept telling me how wrong I was to be here.
This was a side quest to my main quest, and it included hurting someone that… I didn’t really want to hurt. When had that changed? The idea had come and gone in a fleeting thought that haunted me the rest of the night. Some sort of deranged nightmare I had found myself in and I couldn’t escape my consciousness.
I washed in a hot bath, hoping to soothe myself into catching a moment of sleep, but instead found my hand reaching for the bottle of soap that lathered up my raging stiffy. Something was clearly wrong with me.
My rough hands smoothed down the fine materials of my uniform. I watched myself in the long mirror, waiting to see it shine red at the call of my queen. Expelling the breath I couldn’t hold any longer, I walked away in relief that she hadn’t called. But she would soon. The long span of time between her calls left me wondering what was happening at home. Be it good or bad.
The door to my room remained unlocked, as I wasn’t a prisoner here. But guards had been posted outside my door. I could hear them shifting their weight and chatting throughout the night as they stood post. They would be my guides in this foreign castle, and that I was thankful for.
As I opened the door, the men froze like they had been caught in the act of doing something unforgivable. But they both remained on either side of the door, facing forward, utterly harmless. I stepped out. They watched me with blank, well-trained faces.
“Can you take me to the girl I brought?”