by Sarina Dorie
Errol gazed at the hope in Ivy’s amber eyes. He wanted to dance. More than that, he realized, he wanted to dance with her.
He stood and bowed formally to her. “It would be an honor if you permitted me to dance with you this evening.”
“Yes, I’d love to!” She took his arm without cringing when he offered it.
She had come so far since she’d first arrived, no longer flinching away when he was near. She’d even stated earlier she felt safe around him. That same pride he’d felt earlier rekindled as he glanced at the admiration in her eyes.
Errol escorted her to the dance area. He glanced over at Prince Elric-Atherius to ensure he’d stayed put. The prince winked at him and grinned from the bale of hay. Errol divided his attention between Ivy and the prince.
He could see the way joy and dance rekindled the merriment in her spirit, not just in the way creativity burst from her, but in her transformed expression. She grinned the entire time, music wrapping around her like the arms of a lover. The fine arts were as rejuvenating for him as sunlight was for a plant affinity like hers.
The energy of the dancers around him drifted toward him. The savory light caressed his skin and melted against him. He inhaled the perfume of creativity, losing himself in the moment.
Errol was no great dancer, but he laughed and reveled in the enjoyment of the others around him. Ivy didn’t know the steps, but the pattern was easy enough to follow that she could imitate it when it was her turn. He took her hands and spun her when it was their turn and promenaded her as part of the sequence.
Errol enjoyed himself so thoroughly he forgot to pay attention to the prince. When the song ended, he was breathless and grinning. The creativity of all the Witchkin and Fae around him had fueled him stronger than any of the king’s salons had. But then, he hadn’t allowed himself to drink in front of other muses who would recognize what he was doing. His wings swelled with so much energy, he could barely contain his hold on the glamour, and they lit the area around him despite being invisible and intangible.
The prince had been right when he’d told Errol this was what he needed. Creativity energized him.
As much as Errol wished he weren’t a muse, this wasn’t so bad. Errol glanced at the place the prince was supposed to be, suddenly remembering his duty.
Prince Elric-Atherius had remained. He nodded to Errol, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
Errol let out a sigh, seeing the prince where he’d said he would stay.
“How long before we have to go back?” Ivy asked.
Errol examined his pocket watch. “One more song would be all right.”
It was another fast and festive piece. He didn’t get to do any caroling that night, but this made up for it.
* * *
Errol wished he’d given himself the entire night off, but he always felt it was his duty to give those with families a chance to have the day to spend with their kin. He’d waited too long to return and had to transport them all back with magic to the barracks. At least with his renewed supply of creativity from muse powers, he was recharged and more ready for duty than ever.
Prince Elric-Atherius grinned at Errol once they were in the barracks. “I feel much better now that we’re within the safety of the castle walls.”
“You were the one who had the brilliant idea to escape.” Errol’s lips twitched with amusement. “I hope you have a good think before you decide to do something like that again.” Errol just barely reined himself in before he called the prince a name he might regret.
“I did give it quite a bit of thought. What I regret is pushing you to go without thinking it through.” The old man’s eyes that the prince wore shifted from brown to blue. “You are safe here in the castle, surrounded by friends. Outside, there’s no telling what an assassin might do.”
Errol stared at the prince in shock.
“Assassins?” Ivy asked. “Why would they want to hurt the captain?”
“Because he’s too honorable and has made enemies.” Prince Elric-Atherius held himself taller. “Which is why I had to protect him.”
Seeing the seriousness in the prince’s eyes made the laugh catch in Errol’s throat. The prince thought he was in danger? And he’d gone to protect him? The entire time Errol thought he was the one protecting the prince. His belly fluttered with a strange surge of warmth. If it hadn’t been for their station separating them, Errol would have considered Prince Elric-Atherius . . . a friend.
Errol inclined his head to the prince, at a loss for words. He knew what to do with petulant royalty and snobbish aristocrats—namely stay out of their paths. He didn’t know how to handle someone of a higher station treating him as an equal.
He turned to Ivy and cleared his throat. “I intend to walk you back to your room, but I need to change first. Will you be all right waiting outside?”
She unfastened the clasp of the cloak and handed it to him. “Of course.”
Errol quirked an eyebrow at the prince. “Now that we are in the safety of the castle, I trust you don’t need to stay to protect me.”
“I suppose I should be heading back to my room too.” Prince Elric-Atherius shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Indeed. Go to your chamber directly if you please,” Errol said firmly. “Do not wander about and get yourself into some kind of mischief.”
The prince made a childish face that looked out of place on the old man’s visage. “Yes, sir.”
Errol supposed he shouldn’t have been ordering royalty around, even when the prince was in disguise, but the prince turned to Ivy and bowed. “It was a pleasure making your acquaintance.” He inclined his head at Errol. “I’ll leave the two of you . . . alone.”
If the prince had been one of Errol’s peers rather than royalty, he would have given him a shove for that comment.
Ivy waited outside as Errol changed. When he emerged in uniform, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm.
“I can’t imagine a more enjoyable evening!” she said. “I’m glad you invited me out.”
“I’m pleased you agreed to go with me.” As Errol guided her toward her room, his hands grew clammy in his gloves. He wondered whether she thought he was courting her.
Was he courting her? He didn’t think inviting her to a cèilidh so she wouldn’t be lonely counted. He hadn’t formally asked to solicit her affections. He hadn’t intended to woo her.
Nor did he think it was appropriate. Earlier he’d overheard her say she’d agreed to go so he wouldn’t feel lonely. She might feel obligated to court him because he had been her benefactor in starting her new life.
As they headed toward the servants’ quarters in the castle, he grew less certain about what the evening had been. If he’d met her in a tavern, he would end the evening by asking her whether he could kiss her.
But he hadn’t taken a fancy to Ivy. He’d simply sought her out to see whether she was well and wanted to ensure she wasn’t alone because she was his charge. That wasn’t the same thing as liking a lass. Yet when he thought of her generous smile while dancing, he had thought she was lovely. He’d enjoyed spending time with her. Was that the same thing as taking a fancy to someone?
Another thought pushed its way into his confusion. How could he fancy her when she was his sister’s replacement? It felt like a slight to his sister’s memory to cross that line with her.
He studied her out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was the lighting or the flush of pink to the green tinge of her skin, but she was cuter in person than he remembered her being in his mind.
Ivy was silent as he escorted her to her quarters. She hesitated outside the door. “It was a lovely evening. I haven’t ever enjoyed myself so much.”
“Perhaps you would like to go to another cèilidh some time.”
She nodded vehemently. “I would!”
She didn’t open the door to her room yet. Errol shifted from foot to foot uncertainly.
“Happ
y Yule,” he said.
“Happy Yule.”
Neither of them moved. Errol wanted to make sure she got into her room all right. He didn’t know what she was waiting for.
She placed a hand on his arm and leaned forward. “I feel more indebted to you than ever.” She planted a quick peck on his cheek.
“Oh, uh. . . .” His momentary pleasure was squashed under disappointment as her words sank in. “You shouldn’t kiss me because you feel indebted.”
He rushed away before she could answer, more confused than ever. He strode down the corridor, muddling through his feelings for her. He hadn’t thought he had affection for her until tonight. Had it been the dancing? No, he’d felt something even before the dancing, a need to ensure she was happy and not disappointed in the evening. Perhaps it had been the sewing. He’d tasted her creativity.
For all he knew, his feelings for her were induced by the muse magic he’d consumed rather than anything more. The spark of admiration in her eyes might have been the high an artist felt when inspired, not because she actually liked him.
Errol strode down the servant passage, startled from his concerns when a sergeant from another unit shook his arm.
“Someone said they’d seen you, Captain,” the guard said. “Come quick.”
“What’s wrong?” Errol asked.
“We have an emergency. Prince Elric-Atherius is missing.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A Misplaced Prince
“Are you certain?” Errol asked. He’d seen the prince only moments ago, though in his disguise. He was in the castle—unless he’d snuck off to see his mistress and child.
Or been abducted. Dread settled like a lump in his belly.
“Yes,” the sergeant said. “Everyone is looking for him. Major General Wigbergt wanted to see if you could find him.”
“I’m not a tracker. We need Paega.” There were other trackers, but Paega was the best.
“Yes, but the prince fancies you.” The sergeant grimaced. “Wigbergt probably thought you would have special insight into where he was.”
Errol looked to the younger man, trying to scrutinize whether “fancies” meant something lewd. Did soldiers think Errol was requested for duties guarding the prince because he had taken up some kind of romantic liaison with him? He considered all the times Prince Elric-Atherius had met with him in his office or used his bedroom to meet his mistress.
Errol reported to Wigbergt’s office. The older officer spoke with two captains. His face brightened upon seeing Errol. “Just the man I need.”
Wigbergt shooed off the captains. “Have you any idea where the prince could be?”
Again, Errol wondered why they thought he should know. Unfortunately, it happened he had been the last person who had seen the prince.
“I ran into him not long ago this evening,” Errol said carefully. “I wasn’t aware he was missing.”
“How long ago?” Major General Wigbergt leaned forward. “You do realize General Hereweald is going to skin us all alive if we’ve lost one of the royal family.”
Errol hesitated. Prince Elric-Atherius had warned Errol about assassins outside the castle. Could there be danger within the palace walls? Errol scrutinized the worry lines around the major general’s eyes. If this was meant to be a trap, he didn’t think his commanding officer was in on it.
Wigbergt went on without waiting for Errol to answer. “The prince has been gone for hours.” Wigbergt pulled at his gray beard hard enough that he looked like he might yank it out. “We haven’t yet alerted the king, in the hope he has simply been . . . misplaced.”
Errol didn’t want to give away the prince’s disguise—not when it had been his one opportunity to escape the life he hated—even if it had only been for a little while. Someday Prince Elric-Atherius might need to use the disguise again, though perhaps when there was danger.
Additionally, Errol didn’t especially want to explain he had spent half an hour or more in the prince’s presence at the cèilidh and had last seen him outside his room.
“I understand the prince makes you privy to certain projects of his, and he has given you extra assignments. You are in his confidence, and if there is anything you might know about his plans, it might help us.” Wigbergt lowered his voice. “You might not be aware of this, as King Viridios has not yet announced the news, but our air navy is about to launch an attack on the Raven Court in retaliation for a raid that occurred earlier today by pirates on one of our port cities. If there are any spies in our midst, they might have stolen the prince to use as ransom—or to torture for information.”
“Fie,” Errol muttered. Of course no one had bothered to tell a ‘mere’ captain like him what was going on. He wouldn’t have taken Ivy to the cèilidh if he’d known. He would have made the prince return to the castle immediately.
Errol would have escorted him to his room.
“Have you checked the prince’s chamber in the last few minutes?” Errol asked. “When I last saw him, he told me he was headed that way.” He hoped Prince Elric-Atherius had simply slipped in unnoticed the same way he’d left.
“He isn’t there,” Wigbergt said.
“Shall we look again?” Errol could see Major General Wigbergt wasn’t convinced. Errol added, “If he isn’t there, we can search his room for clues.”
Wigbergt’s face brightened. “Excellent idea.”
They used transportation magic and found Prince Elric-Atherius in his private chamber in bed. The prince sat up as they entered his room uninvited and unglamoured. The room instantly brightened as every candle lit itself to reveal them.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness,” Major General Wigbergt said. “I didn’t expect you to be in here.”
“You’re forgiven.” Prince Elric-Atherius smiled with his usual insipid expression. “Is everything all right?”
Errol crossed his arms. “It appears your disappearance tonight gave the staff quite a scare.”
“Me? I’ve been here the entire night.” Prince Elric-Atherius attempted innocence.
Wigbergt backed away. “Of course. Excuse the intrusion.”
* * *
The following day it was announced that they were at war. Errol and the unit he commanded were called upon to be the king’s escort. He dressed in battle gear and left with the king, not knowing whether this day would be his last.
He didn’t even get to say goodbye to Ivy.
The king slapped him on the shoulder, his mood jovial for a man heading into battle. “Well, Captain Errol, it appears as if you have gotten what you wished for. It’s about time you got your revenge.”
Errol had a chance to avenge his sister’s death and punish the criminals who had abducted Ivy and the children of Alfheim. He would be able to destroy the enemies of the kingdom who had been attacking citizens in the Silver Court’s territories.
It was a bittersweet victory. Errol had gotten what he wanted, but he knew there was more at work than he’d first guessed. He had a difficult road ahead of him. He suspected the upcoming battle would be the least of his worries.
EPILOGUE
Revenge, A Dish Served Hot
The battles went on for what seemed like forever. Today was the day Errol hoped it might end. Of course, he’d also thought the same thing days ago during the last skirmish and the week before when the king had launched an attack on a group of mercenaries who had been raiding their kingdom.
This wasn’t the first time the Silver Court had battled with the Raven Court, but after two months, it was the longest war since Captain Errol had joined the military.
Errol was dressed for battle in metal armor, with magic ready, and a blade in case enchantments failed. His long silver hair was tied back and out of the way. His wings were glamoured invisible and intangible, ready should he need to use them to shield his sovereign. He and the other royal guard surrounded their king.
A team of skittish horses rolled King
Viridios’ Jabberwock to the battle, the nightmare energy of the creature inspiring fear and anguish among the troops on both sides. The horizon was a gloomy gray, the bodies of the villagers from the recent attack by Raven Court mercenaries the only smear of color in the ruins of what had been a village.
It was easier for Errol to harden his heart against what was about to happen when he was faced with the devastation their enemies had brought upon innocent people.
Locked in a cage reputed to be forged from broken dreams and tainted inspiration, the Jabberwock shifted. The creature didn’t look like much, no more than a shadow with dozens of glowing eyes. The shape of the body was difficult to see through the bars of a cage, resembling a void of light that sucked the life and joy from all around it, leaving madness and death in its wake.
King Viridios’ eyes shifted from silver to crimson as he stroked his red ruby ring, whispering, “Yes, my darling, just a little bit longer. You shall taste their terror soon enough.”
Errol understood the importance of that ring. Without it, King Viridios wouldn’t be able to control their secret weapon. Even with the Ring of Solomon, he could barely contain the Jabberwock.
The king nodded to the general, who used magic to release the lock of the monster’s cage.
A shadow blurred over the devastated village. It was the path of destruction the Jabberwock left that revealed how deadly the creature actually was. Claws gouged the earth as heavy feet thudded over the ground. The mercenaries left the ruins and dropped their glamours as they fled in panic. They didn’t make it far.
This must have been the twentieth time the king had ordered the Jabberwock to be summoned, but Errol still wasn’t used to the fear energy pressing in on him. He tried to keep peace and goodness in his heart as Helga had instructed him when they’d gone below the dungeons that time in search of Semmy. Yet it grew more difficult to clear his mind with the screams of soldiers in the Jabberwock’s jaws.
The Jabberwock tore through human flesh with teeth and claws. Even those it didn’t slay were left shaken with wide eyes, unable to fight. That included their own cavalry. Errol did his best to keep fear from his heart so that he wouldn’t succumb to the monster’s ability to inspire terror. He kept his eyes focused on dangers, searching the sky for attackers, scanning the ranks ahead of them and behind.