by Ella Fields
“After you betrayed me, my kingdom, and my heart.”
There was no change to his posture. No shaking. No twitching. No tensing.
He was as immovable as a dagger imbedded in the heart. For if he slipped, he might just bleed out.
Then he laughed. Slow and growing louder, the brash sound echoed through the cells.
I waited, every bone in my body aching with anger for him to shut up.
“Sorry,” he said with about as much remorse as a furbane with remnants of a chicken in its maw. “But what on this goddesses’ green earth would ever possess your narcissistic brain to believe someone could ever actually love someone like you?”
I took the insult, absorbed it with my next breath, and let it freeze all that’d begun to thaw in his presence. “Why, the answer to that is simple.” I closed my eyes as I was taken back to a time that blinded me with dreamlike fantasies. “You.”
19 summers old
There was no celebration like that of a king who’d turned seven hundred years old.
Had any of my brothers lived beyond infancy to see such a thing, I often found myself wondering what they’d make of it. What they’d make of him.
Moonstone fountains filled with ruby red wine gurgled throughout the courtyards. Witch hazel, hedges pruned to resemble the moon and stars, and countless rose bushes glimmered beneath hovering blinking lights. Royal fire didn’t stop burning until it was told to by its owner, and it was evident the orbs of light would glow until the sun replaced them and they were no longer needed.
Gone was the elegance and finery usually expected of high royals, and in its place, male and female mingled in scraps of clothing. My father’s decree. You were to pick only one item of clothing to wear to his birth celebration, or you could spend the night naked.
The copious amount of wine and ale provided would be drunk greedily by the many guests struggling to stay warm, which gave my father more reason, and endless pleasure, to toy with them when they stumbled about like idiots. Only he, the king of the coldest lands in Rosinthe, would throw a party all invited must attend and insist they wear hardly anything.
I’d had a gown made that would support my breasts and cover enough to show some semblance of modesty. I didn’t much care for flashing too much skin at once, but rather, I liked to tease. We were creatures of immense power. We could do as we wished within our flimsy laws, yet I never felt like trying to fit in or please others.
To take a larger role in the power games my father insisted on playing.
Sequined silk covered me from shoulder to ankle, the ivory tone similar to that of my skin and leaving little to the imagination. My sable hair flowed in straight lines down my back to kiss the curve of my spine and drape over my breasts, meeting my navel.
“My princess,” a velvet voice drawled.
Smirking, I peered over at the lord of the east and tipped my drink to him. “Good evening, Lord.”
With his hands tucked in the pockets of his black pants, he stepped out of the shadows in nothing else save for his black boots.
I swallowed hard at the muscular expanse of his chest, as well as the harsh etching of his pelvic area, which had me wondering, even if just for a second, what it would feel like to trace with my fingertips.
Shaking off the thought, I tilted my head as our eyes met. His wore a look of knowing, but it was the bored set to his mouth that really knocked me out of my trance. “Do you wish to take a closer look?” he teased. “If you stare at me like that again, I might just let you touch.” Those last words were weighted, low, as though what he’d wanted to say was beg you to touch.
I snorted, grinning. “Just observing how predictable you are, is all.”
His russet brow arched. “I can assure you, the last thing I am is predictable.”
I rolled my eyes, sipping the remainder of my wine. “I’m sure.”
His eyes darted behind me, hardening for a brief second, and I headed that way. The lord of the east might have been fun to look at, I was coming to realize, but he was no fun to be around.
My fingers dragged over trellises teeming with roses and flickering with fireflies, and I could have sworn I felt the lord’s eyes upon me until I’d walked out of view.
“You rob me of breath.”
A stuttered exhale left me as I turned to find Raiden leaning against a vine-strangled column with a goblet of wine.
His parents had departed swiftly after the celebration of our commitment to vow. He, however, had stayed behind.
When he’d cornered me in the hall outside the kitchens just two days later, I could scarcely mask my shock at seeing him. He’d invited me to ride with him. I’d said no and left him standing there as I went in search of Berron.
That was three days ago, and though I’d heard he was making himself quite at home—roaming the gardens, training with our soldiers, and undoubtedly flirting with nobility and staff alike—I hadn’t seen him since.
“You opted for pants instead of a shirt.” I sat, peering around at many a male wearing similar. “How boring.” My palm met the cool sandstone of the garden’s edge, and I crossed one leg over the other, my gown bending with my body like a fitted glove.
Raiden emptied his wine, and I watched his throat ripple as he swallowed. He then turned to the left, bending to scoop up more.
I allowed my eyes to trace every dip and solid line of his torso. Muscles moved in his abdomen and lower back as he straightened, and I noticed only a fine dusting of hair smattered his broad pectorals.
I didn’t bother hiding my assessment as he swung his legs closer, his feet bare and long toes curling over the cold ground.
He extended the hand with the goblet to me, and I lowered my brows at it. “I’d rather not drink wine that’s been sitting there, open for any enchantment or laced herbs.”
Raiden licked his teeth, then shrugged and drained the lot himself before tossing the goblet into the garden behind me and taking a seat.
“Smart, I suppose. But tell me, silk…” He leaned closer, close enough for the hairs dusting his arm to graze my own, his voice reminiscent of gravel over skin. “Doesn’t it get tedious, not allowing yourself to truly live this ever long existence of ours?”
My nails scratched at the stone as I turned my face to his. “Oh, I do plenty of living, Prince. Believe me.”
His eyes narrowed on mine, thick brows scrunching. “I believe you. Though I have it on good authority that you’ve not sought a lover since I arrived.”
I’d have to take the finger of whoever was feeding him information and ram it down their stupid throat. “Then you need to find a new source”—I bent close, my lips a hair’s breadth from his—“because they’re lying.”
His breath retreated, then plumed hot over my mouth, smelling of the berry-flavored wine. “Of all the lies I’ve ever heard, yours are by far the sweetest.”
I blinked, and then his hands were cupping my face and his lips caressing mine. It was a mere touch, a tease, and then he was standing and pulling me to my feet. “Walk with me.”
“I have guests that I need to at least stare at.”
Raiden grinned, his hand rough and smooth as he pulled me with him toward the castle gates. “They’ll still be here.” He glanced at the fountains, at the people dancing and loitering in groups around them. “Until the sun rises, by the looks of it.”
I relented, and soon, we were drifting through the gates and into the cobblestone streets beyond.
The hill was steep, and I wasn’t wearing any footwear, but Raiden thankfully slowed his pace as we passed trade stalls tucked into weed-flecked corners, darkened windows, and wound onto even darker avenues. “The heart is that way,” I said, pointing down a cart-lined street toward the main street leading to the castle.
“That’s nice.”
I scowled at his back as he continued to drag me through alleyways.
Murmurs of, “Royal highness, Princess, and Prince,” followed us at every other turn, but we didn
’t stop, for which I was glad. Not because I thought they were beneath me. I knew they were. But because I loathed small talk and would rather not pretend to be interested in people and creatures that did not interest me at all.
We’d reached the far west side of the city before Raiden slowed outside a dank, crumpled structure called Cursed Pints.
“I figured you’d rather not join me in the cellar again.” Raiden circled me as I stood before three sagging steps. “So a tavern it is.”
“We could’ve just had one of the—”
He stopped before me, a finger raised. “Ah, but that’s custom. This”—he gestured to the building, if you could call it that—“is not. And I’m dying to see you down a pint.”
“Do you mean lager?”
Raiden chuckled, and I blinked as I studied his cheeks, his perfect teeth, and his bright eyes. “That you even need to ask that means we’ve made the right decision by coming here.”
I raised a brow, half wishing his hand was still in mine. “I’ll be the judge of that.” I shouldered by him and carefully carried myself up the stairs and straight inside the swinging doors.
My eyes grew as decay gave way to chandeliers and bright white countertops.
Royals and mixed mingled, dancing in the center of the room or huddled and draped over the lounge chairs and chaises that lined it. Behind a countertop that spread across the entirety of the large space, an indigo-haired male with sea green eyes dipped and winked our way while drying a glass with a pink rag.
“The look on your face,” Raiden said, laughter coating every syllable, “priceless.”
“Where are we?”
He lifted two fingers to the bartender. “Exactly as the sign stated, Cursed Pints.”
“Is this allowed?” I threw him an accusing glare.
He frowned. “It’s been here for several hundred years. Yes, it’s allowed. It’s a tavern, silk. Not a hidden brothel.”
Brothels were permitted in the kingdom but not within the castle quarter or among the villages. They typically set up shop out of sight but usually within distance of well-traveled roads.
“Prince,” one of the males on a divan by a crackling fire called. “You’ve returned.”
I narrowed my eyes at the long-haired blond and the female next to him. They were royals.
“Adran,” I said.
His bored eyes flicked to me. “Cousin.”
The female next to him was a new addition, and though I was curious, I didn’t let on.
Raiden slapped his hands together. “Come, sit.” With a hand at my back, he encouraged me to the armchairs opposite my cousin and his companion, a tiny glass table between us.
The brunette female eyed me a moment and then ducked her head. “Honored, Princess.”
“Who are you?” Well, so much for acting nonchalant.
Raiden thanked the bartender, who’d delivered two glass tankards of lager on a glinting silver tray. He bowed, then retreated.
“Still so brash,” Adran tutted. “This is Amelda, my betrothed.”
“Your betrothed?” I all but spat. Raiden’s smirk was a tisk I wished to squash, buzzing over my profile as I glared at Adran. “Does your mother know of this?”
Adran flapped a hand, then tugged his gold shirt from his chest, canines gleaming. “Mother is too busy with lover number nine to care about much else.”
Sarine was my mother’s sister, but ever since her death, she chose not to appear at court unless she had to. Like many others. If she thought my father didn’t notice, she was very much mistaken. Being that our family tree didn’t extend far these years, it didn’t exactly look good to have our few relatives absent whenever they so desired.
“Sarine needs to be careful,” I warned
“A threat?” Adran took a swig of what looked to be flavored liquor. “Let us drink some more before the foreplay begins.”
“You’re still an idiot.”
He smiled, his drink hand swinging out. “And you’re still a beautiful, ice-infused bitch.”
Raiden growled. “That will be enough.”
All eyes darted to him, and I startled to find his teeth gnashing, his neck and jaw tight.
“How did you meet the prince?” I asked my cousin.
His betrothed answered. “He wandered in here for a drink a few nights ago when we were leaving.”
I studied her golden complexion and the turquoise of her eyes. Pretty, I supposed, though Adran usually preferred his females bigger breasted. “And do you often find your males in taverns, Amelda?”
Her expression flattened, and Adran slid his arm around her shoulders. “She’s of the Sun Kingdom. We met a few months ago when she was… working.”
I turned to Raiden, who tipped a shoulder. “Amelda is an emissary for yours truly.”
I feigned delight and leaned forward. “So you know how it feels to put his cock inside you? Do share.”
Her eyes widened, and Adran tensed. “Mind your tongue, cousin.”
“Or what?” I sat back, my nails tapping over the wooden edging in the velvet armrest.
Raiden sighed. Pulling some coin from his pocket, he dumped them on the table and then pulled me to my feet. “I can’t take her anywhere.”
I gazed up at him as he flicked a hand to the bartender, my cousin and his betrothed staring after us with mirrored looks of distaste. “You didn’t deny it,” I said once we broke through the doors. I wrenched my hand from his as we jumped down the worn steps to the damp street.
Raiden just laughed and kept on walking.
“What?” I followed, unsure what he found so funny about any of this.
He stopped once we reached an abandoned shoe store, its faded sign swinging in the faint breeze.
Raiden glanced up at it, then at me with a look that set my hands clenching.
Then the sign fell to the street, cracking in two.
“You’re crazy. You know that?”
“It’s not my fault you’ve whored yourself out too many times.”
He spun, his bare chest illuminated beneath the slice of moonlight that crept between the shadowed shopfronts. “I’ve been alive for thirty summers more than you, Princess. I’ve stuck my cock in many a female. Pointing out whom doesn’t make me a whore; it only serves in making you appear jealous, childish, and cruel.”
His words slapped me, swaying me where I stood. “You could fuck her right now for all I care because I don’t. You’re to be my husband, not my bed partner.”
Raiden stalked back to me, his every step careful and simmering with tension. “You don’t care?”
“I loathe repeating myself, Prince.”
The biting edge left his tone. “You don’t kiss me like you don’t care.”
“I’ve kissed you twice.” I laughed. “That means nothing. I was merely carrying out an assessment. Had I have known you’d act like some whining wolf cub, I’d have stayed behind.”
“It means everything.”
“Just shut up.” I couldn’t believe him. “Look, we fight more than we talk. We’re done here. I’ll see you when it’s time.”
“Audra, don’t walk away.”
I didn’t so much as look at him as I kept on doing just that. “Like you can stop me.”
And then he did. My speed was no match for his. A second later, I was halted by his hands wrapping around my face. “You’re infuriating.”
“You’re the infuriating one.”
He shook his head, lips twitching as his eyes danced over my face. Slowly, I felt my features relax.
“We’re not done here.” He kissed my forehead, then dragged me back down the street.
“Why do you do that?” I asked, ignoring a boy trying to sell us sweetcakes when we’d reached the heart.
“Do what?” Raiden stopped and gave the boy three coins, then took two frosted cakes from the gaping child and handed me one.
I sniffed it, and upon finding nothing nefarious, I took a bite. “Kiss me.”
�
��Because I want to.”
Strawberry and chocolate ignited my taste buds, and I swallowed the fluffy paradise. “That’s not a reason.”
“It is.” He shoved the whole cake inside his mouth, his cheeks bulging.
I contained my laughter, just, and licked my thumb. “It isn’t.”
I’d almost finished, the frosting as sweet as it was sour, when he attempted to sway me off my feet again.
“Because you have a face that needs to be cherished. Not just for what it is, but for what it takes from inside you. You need to be kissed where you’re most beautiful.”
“To counteract where I’m most ugly,” I finished his lingering thought.
“Audra…” He grabbed my wrist outside the empty fish market.
“It’s fine. I don’t need tenderly minced words, Prince.” I licked the remaining frosting from my fingers. “They only serve to piss me off.”
“You’re not ugly inside,” he said. “You’re just…”
“I’m me,” I said with cold finality. “I’m just me. Like it or don’t, but don’t you dare try to change it or say you weren’t aware.”
He blinked, then nodded, tucking his hands inside his pockets as we neared the stairs leading to the docks of the bay. It flowed in two directions, out to sea and under a small city bridge, where it ran downhill into catchments and waterfalls that fed the rivers in the valleys below. Patches of ice crested the banks, crawling over the moss layered rocks that pockmarked the shoreline.
I leaned over the frosted railing, gazing at the damp sand below. Idly, I wondered if the half-dressed prince of the Sun Kingdom was cold, or if his magic kept him warm.
Throwing a glimpse at Raiden, I found him staring ahead. “Look,” he said, pointing at something in the distance.
I squinted at the few fishing boats and the sails of a lone ship. “What of them?”
“Not them.” He tugged me close, encircling my waist with an arm. “Them,” he whispered.
A splash echoed far out in the cove where the mountains, separated by a slice of water big enough for one ship to carefully sail through, almost touched.
Mermaids.
“They’re back.”
Raiden’s hand tightened at my hip. “My parents saw them when they were here. They said there hasn’t been a sighting of them in over two hundred years.”