by May Sage
He’d somehow found a way to demean absolutely everyone in one breath. So, the members of the court were dolls, were they? Of course he’d see them that way. Dick.
Devi wasn’t on great terms with most high fae, but even she saw their uses. There were thirteen members of the queen’s council, fifty-three senators, a hundred and seven lords, three judges, thirty lawyers, nine generals, and one commander at court. Factoring in a staff of two to thirteen members, a minimum of two guards per person, and about two family members, this represented a thousand folks of high rank. Adding the senate brought those numbers to seven thousand three hundred and eleven fae at court, a third of which were of great importance.
Not to His Highness, apparently. Why was she putting up with him again?
“Thanks for bringing me—against my wishes. You can go now.”
Valerius sat on the seat next to the bed, extended his feet to rest them on her mattress, and folded his arms behind his head, making his intention to stay obvious. She suspected it was just because she'd told him to go.
“You're a dick.”
“I do happen to possess one of those, but mighty as it may be, I can’t say I’d use the term to describe the entirety of my person.”
“If I swore my firstborn child to you in a binding oath, would you leave me alone?”
Fae had a thing for oaths.
“No. No one else is awake right now, you’re mildly interesting, and I’m bored. I'm staying.”
She grumbled and sighed—fruitlessly, one might add. The prince ignored it, determined to keep her company.
“So, Devi—Beck called you Devi, right?” She made no reply. “Why did you decide to become a protector of the realm?”
“I like the uniform.”
The prince smiled. A real smile, not the fleeting ghost of a grin disappearing within an instant. Devi understood why he seldom used this particular weapon. It was a thing of wonder, rendering him more glorious than his handsome blond friend, and just as frightening.
Thankfully, it didn’t last. Valerius shifted on his seat, leaning forward to close the distance between them.
Devi treated him like the predator she knew him to be, glaring right back at him, not attempting a sudden movement.
The prince tilted his head. “You know that if I were in a different mood, you’d be screaming in agony right now while I tormented your mind for your insubordination.”
He said it in a matter-of-fact, conversational manner, as though he’d been speaking about the weather.
Devi wondered if his posturing ever worked. She gasped dramatically. “You’d hurt an innocent, defenseless female?” She batted her eyelashes for good measure.
There was no doubt that Valerius was dangerous, but he wasn’t one to threaten. If he’d intended to harm her, he would simply have done so. Right now, he was just taunting her, testing her reaction.
“Don’t bother using the female card with me again. I’m the son of Shea Blackthorn. I’ve long ago learned that what’s between your legs has absolutely nothing to do with your strength.”
Screw him for saying something she approved of. Devi was entirely resolved to dislike him, and imagining him as a sexist pig would have helped.
“I may just be a protector in training, but they don’t let us in unless we can kick ass, Blackthorn. You’d try to hurt me. I’d try right back. You really don’t want to find out who’d win.”
She meant every word, but the dick seemed even more amused. He smirked. Fucking smirked. And damn him, but it was just as disturbingly beautiful as his smiles. He truly rubbed her the wrong way, getting under her skin with little effort. She was itching to lash out, but doing her very best to contain herself when Beck finally came, interrupting their stare off.
Devi redirected her glare toward the healer.
“I could have sorted my ankle with a charm,” she told him.
“Indeed, but if I had let you do that, I wouldn’t have had the chance to get you to do your psychophysical exam.”
Oh, that. He had asked her to pop by to do it… twice? Maybe three times over the course of the last couple of months. Devi had glanced at the deadline and resolved to book the day before it was due. If memory served, she had seventeen days left.
But now he’d cornered her.
Shit.
She pointed to Valerius. “He can’t be here for that. Make him get out.”
“And he wouldn’t have been here if you’d scheduled ahead of time at your convenience. Your Highness, feel free to stay. Devi never learns if there’s no repercussion.”
“Hey, I’m not a five-year-old,” she protested, although one could argue that she was presently acting like one. “Plus, these exams are private, you know.”
“Technically,” the prince said, visibly loving every second of this, “these exams are demanded by the head of the protectors’ order to ensure that our trainees are physically and mentally able to do this job. Newsflash, that’s me.”
Her jaw hit the floor. How come she’d never heard of this? To her knowledge, Drake Night was the current master of the order, hence why he was in charge of the training.
Valerius winked at her obvious astonishment. “Drake may have been elected master recently, but as prince and protector of the realm, I outrank him. He just sits on the council because I’m generally absent from court. Poor substitute, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Healer Beck, I think His Highness’s protuberant ego is more concerning than any of my conditions. Surely you’ll wish to see to it first.”
Ignoring her, the tall, bulky healer smiled as he placed his hands on either side of her head, ever so softly. Beck was always gentle for such a giant. At first, an acute pain made her brain and ears buzz, but she dropped her mental shields and let him in.
Beck wasn’t one to use kid gloves. He went right for the good stuff, replaying her nightmare. Drowning. Always drowning.
After reading everything he wished to know about her, he moved his hand, sighing.
“You should have come to me for sleeping droughts, young lady.”
“I intended to. It’s just….”
“That you don’t wish to speak of it.”
Biting her lip, Devi glanced toward Valerius.
“Get out of here, Vale.” Beck’s tone allowed no protest.
“What? We’re just getting to the good stuff.”
The healer’s hand lifted and a golden flame appeared in his palm, to Devi’s astonishment. Was he really threatening Valerius? She awarded Beck a hundred badass points for that. The prince sighed and backtracked.
“All right. Sounds like I’ll just have to read the report.” He winked playfully on his way out, like the dick he was.
Beck’s hand, now void of offensive magic, waved and the door closed behind the prince.
“Vale,” she repeated. “You’re on a nickname basis with his mighty pain in the ass.”
Beck chuckled. “We go way back. I’d like to say that his demeanor improves over time, but Valerius loves nothing more than getting under people’s skin. And evasion won’t work. I have every reason to believe you’ll be an excellent protector, as long as you can deal with this.”
Devi immediately parroted, “I can deal with this.”
The healer nodded once. “All right, I’ll bite. Tell me about it. Not the dream. Tell me what happened then.”
Devi had seen this coming. Physicals could be improved; the protectors’ exams were about the trainees’ abilities to fare under duress. She’d known he would want to touch sensitive subjects, hence the reason why she’d delayed the ordeal to the last possible moment. But she was ready. She’d prepared herself.
“When I arrived at the Royal Academy, I was the new girl, intruding into circles of friends established a decade before. Generations before, actually. It’s a high fae school, and every other student was a legacy. And I am the exact opposite of that.”
“How so?”
He knew how so. He wanted her to say it.
“I’m a hybrid.” How she hated that word. “No one liked that. Some disliked it more than others. I tried to stay out of their way, but they had no intention of staying out of mine. One day, we were out on a hunt. They cornered me at a river and tried to drown me.”
She’d said all of that while staring at the ceiling, reciting a simple story like it hadn’t been her own, as though it was nothing more than a dream. Now, knowing her future depended on it, her eyes cut to Beck as she said, “And I killed them. I killed them all.”
At age fifteen, Devi had little control over her powers. It had just burst out of her, freezing everything. Everyone.
She still recalled standing in front of the teachers after getting away.
“What happened, Ms. Rivers?"
But although Katena Warlow asked, she already blamed her; Devi could see it in her eyes. "I… I…."
She ended up in the headmaster’s office, being told that she was expelled.
Then Shea Blackthorn had stormed in and informed her staff that, actually, Devi wasn't, nor would she ever be, expelled from her academy. “I am queen, and this is my wish. If you desire that your other pupils survive the next ten years, I suggest you keep them in line.”
The queen’s intervention served to endear Devi to exactly no one. She’d killed three high fae of the court and gotten away with it. They’d hated her; after that, they also feared her.
She ran through these events, but Beck wanted more than a report; she saw it in his eyes.
Devi offered, “I don’t regret it. They might have removed the screws from my chairs, painted my lockers and hidden my gym clothes, but no one’s threatened my life since. If it’s kill or be killed, I’d do the same again. I believe that’s why I chose this career.”
“No doubt.” The healer watched her very carefully for a beat before breaking into a kind smile. “I can see you playing me, Devira Star Rivers. You’re good, very good. And no wonder, since you learned from the best. But I see you’re only giving me what you think will get you out of trouble.”
Oh. Well, shit.
“You’re used to your elders underestimating you, aren’t you?”
She had to laugh. “Not all of them.”
Beck chuckled. “The queen is the exception to most rules. Unfortunately for you, so am I. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Devi sighed in defeat. “Okay. What’s wrong is two kids were holding me down, but I don’t know what the third kid was doing at all. He could have been encouraging them, or telling them to stop. I’ll never know. When I was about to drown, my power just lashed out and they all died, him included. I wasn’t in control. What I said stands. I don’t feel guilty. I don’t regret it. If I hadn’t defended myself, I wouldn’t be here today. But I also don’t particularly want to speak of it.”
The healer considered it and finally concluded, “That’s fair, and I’m proud of you. You came a long way in a very short decade, Devi. Consider my stamp of approval sealed on your folder. Now, I still want to speak about those dreams. They’re highly unusual for various reasons. Firstly, because they’re a new development, occurring long after you’ve dealt with the issue. Secondly, because they trigger something that makes you use your power unconsciously, hence the broken window tonight.”
“I’ve thought of it.” She nodded. “It’s like… I don’t know, it feels like a warning. I know I’m no seer, but the queen says those with magic should be mindful of our dreams regardless. Maybe there’s something coming.”
Beck thought it out. “Not a bad theory.”
But he was obviously thinking about something else. “What’s your take on this?”
“I have multiple ideas, none of which quite make sense. But staying on your guard is a fabulous idea regardless.”
The healer went to the cabinet against the wall and opened a drawer. He pulled a circular charm out of it and threw it at her. Devi caught it in midair and pressed it to her ankle before pushing energy through it. Within seconds, she could move her foot without any residual pain.
“Thanks,” said she, hand extended to return his charm.
Beck shook his head. “Keep it. I had new ones made, so we have some surplus. Now get out of here. I told Drake you’d be back in training within a couple of hours.”
“Thank you, sir.” She leaped off the cot and rushed toward the door, stopping at the threshold. Dare she ask?
“Sir? Valerius Blackthorn….” She tilted her head. “Should I be worried?”
“You mean, if you’ve piqued his interest?” Beck chuckled. “Be very worried. He’s quite irresistible, and he never takes females seriously.”
Devi lifted a brow and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. She hadn’t asked for dating advice, dammit. Valerius was known to be quite cruel to some; she was simply wondering if she should expect him to actually harm her, should the mood strike him.
“I’m not one to fall for pretty faces or for a title, sir.”
“And that would be helpful if Vale was, in fact, just a pretty face or a title.”
Devi dismissed that comment as she left the infirmary, running to the protectors’ headquarters.
Once she made it to the master’s training room, she was greeted by a long baton flying right at her at full speed. Devi dropped to her knees, barely avoiding it, and caught the second one Drake Night threw at her.
Fuck. She should have worn gloves.
“Fifty-four minutes late, Devira.”
Each of the tall high fae’s steps were menacing. She knew better than to give justifications. Drake came at her with everything he had, each blow powerful and fast. She managed to avoid the first hit, stop the next two, and attempt an attack herself. The moment she advanced, he used her momentary imbalance to put his baton between her legs and pull it, flipping her over.
Dammit. That was twice today.
Drake knelt beside her and whispered, “Fucking you doesn’t mean I’m going to make allowances for you, understood?”
Devi’s eyes widened at the insult. She moved to wrap her legs around his muscular torso and used the position to flip him onto the ground.
“Once. I fucked you once,” she reminded him. “While being entirely too intoxicated, one might add. And I’ve never asked for any fucking allowances. I’ll stay an extra hour, just like everyone else.”
Drake’s eyes flashed with something she recalled a little too accurately.
There was no rule against a master and an apprentice ending up in bed; unseelie fae had very few rules at all when it came to sexuality. If it felt great, it was probably allowed, or even encouraged. The issue was that Drake Night just so happened to be Shea Blackthorn’s consort.
Even if Devi had felt so inclined, she would have passed on a second rodeo with the protector-in-chief. The queen frequently shared him, as their relationship was very open. Still, the thought of bedding Shea’s partner made her sick to her stomach—when she was sober, in any case.
Devi ignored the heated glance, wishing he’d stop sending her signals, and slowly got to her feet.
“Where am I to train today, sir?” she asked as formally as she could.
Drake stared at her for a good second. Then he stood up and replied, “Rook and Jiya are patrolling with the guard. Join them. I want you to take a post in the street after midnight.”
She nodded once, clicked her heels together, and straightened her spine before turning toward the door. She’d almost crossed the threshold when the master added, “Also, Rivers? Do yourself a favor and stay away from Valerius.”
Devi blamed Beck and his big mouth. Damn him. The healer did say he’d warn Drake, but he hadn’t needed to give him a damn play-by-play. She was wondering how to politely tell her superior that he should mind his damn business when Drake added, “He’d eat you alive and spit you back out.”
What in the ever-loving hell is he on about? Boiling at his out-of-place remark, Devi took a leaf out of the prince’s book. She turned and smirked at Drake; now she kne
w nothing was quite as infuriating as a mocking grin.
“I’ll have you know, most females do enjoy being eaten, sir.” Then, still mimicking the prince, she winked. “Take notes.”
Four
A Light in the Court
The winter solstice had once been about mages, sorcerers, and barefoot priestesses performing rituals in the moonlight. Nowadays it was that and so much more. The entire court celebrated. There was music in the street, magicians and artists established along the main road, and the queen herself attended the festivities, meeting her people. There were games, of course: games of speed, games of agility, games of intelligence, and games of pure, brutal force. It was a beautiful chaos.
Vale held his own revels in Carvenstone, but he had to admit he'd missed the grand festival of the city of night.
“Elar Dorrel. You know I mostly come back home for your pastries,” he told the short lesser fae who had curved antlers coming out of his skull.
The baker had set up a stand outside of his shop, and the smell was so enticing it made Vale feel dizzy, faint. He needed cake, now.
Vale couldn't recall how many times as a child, the old male had given him an extra portion of cake in secret and winked. Food had been rationed back then, during the War of the Realms. The last war the Isle had known.
Elar wasn't known to the new generation; his name was nowhere mentioned in history books. He was just a lesser fae who could take a bit of milk and flour and turn it into a cake suitable for a king, somehow. He was also the civilian who'd rounded up dozens of people and walked right to the front lines to bring fresh food to the armies.
Vale hated the system. Elar was a hero and should be celebrated as such.
“Your Grace.” The male inclined his head cautiously, minding the direction of his long horns.
“None of this nonsense, just feed me. Are those creamers?”
Chuckling, Elar shook his head. “Don't you touch any of those, young prince. Nor you, Captain,” he said, addressing Kallan. “I have some freshly baked goods resting at the back. An assortment, sirs?"
“Always,” Vale vowed solemnly.