by K. L. Thorne
Chapter Fourteen
The demon had made one of her father’s best knights look like a bumbling imbecile and goodness if that didn’t strengthen her attraction for him.
On some level, Sivelle figured she had been hoping Haros would be bothered by Captain Morgwell’s attentions, but she hadn’t expected such an intense reaction.
Though she was worried about her father’s men getting wind of her demon thrall, she didn’t think Morgwell would be in a rush to tell his friends about Haros beating him so easily.
She, Nyre and the demon had walked back to her room in silence, but Sivelle fought with all she had to stop herself from smirking with pride.
Haros held the door open for her and Sivelle strode inside with the dragonette perched on her shoulder.
She sat on the settee, keen to kick her boots off and warm her numb toes by the fire. Haros cleared his throat, drawing her attention.
“I guess I owe you another apology,” he muttered.
“For what? For looking out for me? Protecting my honour? I do believe that’s what I asked you to do.” Sivelle smiled at him.
Haros stared back at her, dumbfounded.
“In fact, one could argue that rather than you owing me an apology, I owe you a debt of thanks.”
“I thought for sure you’d be mad at me.” Haros let out a short laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Quite the contrary I’m afraid.”
The demon looked uncharacteristically bashful and averted his gaze, busying himself with removing his heavy winter cloak and taking off his shoes.
Sivelle sat back and kicked her feet over the armrest to dangle them near the warmth of the fireplace. She watched as Nyre climbed down to gaze into the flames. The dragonette’s face was lit up with excitement.
“We’ve started some sort of obsession here, I think.” Sivelle laughed, turning to face Haros as he sat down beside her. She leant her head back against his chest and her stomach flipped when he draped an arm around her.
“It would have developed itself over time, I’m sure,” the demon replied with a deep chuckle.
“Aside from the sword-pointing fiasco, I’ve had a lovely afternoon.” Sivelle sighed.
“Any day where I get to hold a sword to the throat of a King’s Guard soldier is a good day for me, Princess.” Haros joked. “No offence meant, of course.”
“None taken. I’m sure my hatred for my father’s men pales in comparison to yours, but rest assured I’m no fan of them either. Imagine living every day of your life with one breathing down your neck!”
“I honestly don’t know how you girls managed to live like this for so long. Did you never consider following Lori and Faye?” Haros asked.
Sivelle swallowed back the bitter regret that welled up in her throat before answering. “Once Lori had escaped, both Faye and I made plans to follow her. We’d never have both escaped and Faye had to try and get her horse out as well. I decided to stay behind to create a distraction so she could slip out unnoticed.”
“Wait, so you were planning on running away? I just kind of assumed you had never intended to leave.”
“I had wanted nothing more than for my sisters and I to escape together and run off into the sunset, but alas it wasn’t to be.” Sivelle sighed.
When Haros remained silent, she craned her head back to look at him. The demon was sat with a thoughtful look on his face.
“So, hypothetically, if I could get you out of here, you’d be happy to leave?” he eventually asked. His dark eyes met with hers.
Sivelle smiled. “I’ve already got my bag packed. Why? Have you got a great escape planned?”
“Not yet, but I won’t lie - it’s near the top of my agenda. If you’d be willing to come with me… Well, that just makes it more appealing.”
“Would you leave even if I had said I wanted to stay?” she asked.
Haros paused before answering. “Yes, but I wouldn’t have been happy about it.”
Sivelle felt a whirlpool of emotions as she considered the reality of the demon leaving her behind. The thought alone conjured up the same hollow feeling of grief and helplessness that had plagued her after her sisters escaped.
She supposed at some point during the time she had spent in Haros’s company, he had slowly filled that vast expanse of loneliness inside her. He had breathed happiness back into the empty shell of her life. What ever would she do without him now?
A bright blue glow in the fireplace caught Sivelle’s eye and she sat up with surprise as she saw Nyre clambering into the flames.
“Nyre! What are you doing?!” she gasped, jumping down onto her knees.
Haros sat forwards and placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Sivelle. Remember what I told you? She’s impervious to flame. She’s done a lot of flying around today, she’s probably just cold and worn out.”
Sivelle looked on in horror as her little dragonette circled around in the ashes of the fire before settling down to curl up into a ball. Nyre huffed, cyan sparks showering from her nostrils and she closed her eyes.
The flames that licked at her beautiful scales took on an enchanting sapphire hue, dancing around her as she drifted to sleep.
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Sivelle muttered to herself, slowly returning to sit beside Haros on the settee. He tucked her body close to his once more and the princess rested against his firm chest.
She watched his abs rising and falling beneath the thin material of his shirt and nibbled her lip. They were alone and there were a few long hours before dinner. She had an idea of how she would like to spend them.
“Haros? Would you be keen to earn another night sleeping in my bed?”
∞∞∞
A few weeks passed in a dream. Sivelle spent her time just as she had always done – dancing, reading, walking in the castle gardens – with the welcome addition of hot, passionate encounters to punctuate her dreary days with excitement.
As her confidence had grown, so had her desire for her handsome demon companion. There were days she wished she could lie in bed with him forever. Haros had not returned to his make-shift bed on the settee since that fateful night. One day Mivian had removed his sheets to launder them and they had never reappeared. It was something that hadn’t slipped Sivelle’s notice, but she let it pass without comment.
Whilst she spent her evenings (and sometimes her mornings too) with Haros’s mouth all over her, they had taken to spending most of their afternoons training and exercising Nyre. It had become somewhat of a daily ritual to head down to the gardens to allow the dragonette to stretch her wings. Nyre had built muscle quickly and had grown much bigger than Sivelle and Haros had ever anticipated she would. It was now a challenge for the princess to support Nyre’s weight on her shoulder.
Sivelle was not just contented, she was happy. She often caught herself smiling for no reason. The demon had made even the most mundane tasks titillating. Sivelle looked forward to selecting her outfits in the morning, paying more attention to her choice of underwear than she ever had before.
The only blight on her joy was the looming threat of her father’s ball. It was but a week away now – a fact that she desperately avoided thinking about.
Sivelle sat on the stone bench beside her favourite fountain, lost in a book. Haros and Nyre tussled in the snow behind her.
“I think you should start writing a letter to your sisters today,” Haros called to her, drawing the princess from her reverie.
She looked up to see Nyre hovering in the air above the demon, tittering as he jumped to try and grab her. The dragonette’s wings were now so large and so strong that they billowed a fine haze of snow beneath her and blustered nearby foliage.
Sivelle’s stomach fizzed with excitement. She had eagerly awaited the day that she would be able to get correspondence to her sisters in Banesteppe. What would she say first? She had so many things she wanted to tell them. How could she ever get everything from her head onto par
chment? It seemed an impossibility.
Haros and Nyre continued to roughhouse in the deep snow. Sivelle giggled to herself as the demon managed to wrestle the dragonette into a headlock. Nyre screeched angrily, having turned into quite the sore loser. Both Sivelle and Haros knew it wouldn’t be long until the dragonette could overpower even him.
Haros eventually released Nyre and she took off, soaring into the air to sulk in a nearby tree. Haros jogged back to Sivelle’s side.
“She’s getting really strong!” he said breathlessly and turned to squint up at the dragonette.
“I know, I’m so pleased with her progress, but how will she know the way to Banesteppe? How exactly are you planning to teach her to get there?” Sivelle asked curiously.
“I’m going to draw her a map.” The demon sat beside her on the bench and laughed at the incredulous look that must have been plastered all over Sivelle’s face.
“A map?” she repeated, disbelieving.
“I believe Nyre has already been to Banesteppe. Her previous owner was a demon – no doubt that’s where she was reared. The memory of how Banesteppe looks and smells will be imprinted in her brain somewhere. We just need to remind her.”
“What if she gets lost?”
“She probably will on the first attempt, but she’s an adolescent now. She can look out for herself. She won’t forget how to get back to us, but it may take her a few tries to map out her journey this first time.”
“You seem confident in her ability.”
“She’s exceptionally intelligent. Don’t worry your pretty self over it. She’ll be fine.” Haros pressed a kiss to Sivelle’s hair. Despite her reservations, she smiled and closed her book in her lap.
The princess stood and Haros got back to his feet. “I suppose I should get on with writing a letter, then. Shall I call Nyre?”
“Nah, leave her awhile. She seems to be enjoying herself. She’ll come up to the balcony when she’s ready,” Haros replied.
Sivelle watched the dragonette as she stalked a crow who was scratching around in the snow. Every day Nyre got closer and closer to catching one of those birds.
“What will she do with that crow if she catches it?” Sivelle asked Haros.
The demon shrugged. “Hard to tell. Eat it if she’s hungry, I suppose. Come on, let’s go. I’m freezing.”
Haros grasped Sivelle’s hand in his own and the princess froze. He took a few steps forwards before he realised she wasn’t following and glanced back at her quizzically.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, do you?” Sivelle looked down at their entwined hands.
A disappointed frown flickered across the demon’s face, but he obediently released her. Sivelle’s arm fell heavily to her side.
“I suppose not.” Haros’s tone was short and clipped and he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that I don’t want to. It’s just—” Sivelle trotted to his side as Haros started to walk on.
“No, I know. It just gets to me that we can’t just do what we want. I hate feeling like we’re being watched all the time,” he sighed.
“Welcome to my world, Haros. I’ve never had a moment’s privacy from my father’s watchful gaze since I was a babe. You’ve only been here a few weeks – imagine an entire thirty years!”
“I don’t know how you stand it.”
“Well, your presence has improved things substantially.”
Haros cast his dark gaze over her and she smiled up at him. They walked together back to her chambers, chatting easily about nonsense – what was going to be served for dinner mainly. Haros’s enthusiasm for sampling exciting new food never failed to entertain her.
They entered her room and the demon excused himself to use her bath chamber. Sivelle wandered across to her dressing table, removing her gloves and throwing them down on the settee as she passed.
She pulled out the stool and sat down, turning to dig through one of the bottom drawers for the elaborately decorated letter-writing kit her father had bought for her birthday a few years back. Who he thought she would have cause to write letters to was a mystery, but she silently thanked whichever of his lackies had picked the gift out for her.
She laid the floral parchment out flat and fluffed the delicate feather-tipped quill, marvelling at the beautiful dark green dye that had been used to colour it. She cautiously unscrewed the metal top from the pot of ink and rested the quill tip in it. Sivelle sat back, deep in thought, as she allowed the nib to soak up some of the jet-black fluid. She stared out of the window as she ran through the many thousands of things she wanted to say to her sisters. How should she even start?
Haros returned to the bedroom and came over to join her.
“That’s some very pretty parchment. Any ideas what you’re going to write?” He rested his hands on her shoulders.
“I have no clue. I’ve got so many things I want to say,” Sivelle sighed irritably.
“Well, this won’t be the only letter you can send them. Why don’t you write something simple for now? In case Nyre doesn’t make it there… I have confidence in her, but I wouldn’t write anything too important, just to be safe.”
“That’s a good point.” Sivelle sat forwards and picked up the quill. She hesitated a moment before bringing the nib down to the page.
L & F,
You have no idea how much your birthday wishes meant to me. Thank you for going to the trouble to ensure I received them.
She paused thoughtfully and Haros walked away, giving her as much privacy as he was able to in the room they shared.
I am relieved beyond measure to hear you are both safe. I was so worried. I am still fretful, but less so now I know you are safe and sound in Banesteppe.
If you are still with the demon commander, please let him know H is alive and well. Through a bizarre turn of events, H has been taken on as my thrall. I will tell you more in my next letter, but I would like to ensure this note has arrived safely before I enclose too much information.
Please take care of my dragonette, Nyre, and ensure she is fully rested before allowing her to return.
I miss you both more than you’ll ever know. Please write back as soon as you are able.
S x
Once she had quill to parchment, the words flowed from her easily. Haros’s suggestion to keep the note short and sweet seemed like a good one. She blew on the wet ink to help it dry before turning to the demon. Haros was splayed out on the settee with his eyes closed.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We need to find a way to fasten the letter to Nyre.”
Sivelle tapped her chin thoughtfully before standing and heading into her wardrobe.
After opening a few drawers, she eventually located the small, leather vest she had been looking for. It buttoned up the front and had a pocket with a fastening on the breast.
She returned to the bedroom and folded her letter into four, holding it up against the pocket. It would fit.
“What’s that?” Haros asked.
“It’s an old vest. I’ve never worn it. Do you think it would fit on Nyre?” She held it up for Haros’s inspection.
The dragonette had grown substantially since they had been feeding and exercising her. Though Nyre’s ribcage was probably a little slimmer than Sivelle’s, the faerie doubted there was much in it any more.
“Maybe. You might have to persuade her that she wants to wear it though.” The demon grinned.
“I’ll leave that to you. I think you’ll have more luck at convincing her than I will. She’ll do anything for you.”
“I do tend to have that effect on women.”
Sivelle cast him a playfully scathing look. She pulled a pale pink candle from her drawer and held the wick in the fireplace until it caught. She put the candle back on her desk and watched the flame devouring the thin braid of fibres and melting the wax into a glossy puddle beneath.
The princess glanced around the various knickknacks an
d clutter on her dressing table for something to make an imprint in the wax with. She eventually picked up a small metal ring that had a rose engraved on its surface. Though it wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, she was sure her sisters would recognise the design.
Holding the folded parchment flat with one hand, Sivelle cautiously poured a small blob of melted wax out over the crease where the paper folded over itself. Before the wax had a chance to cool and solidify, she pressed her ring into it, leaving behind a clear imprint of the rose design.
Sivelle waved the letter in the air for a few moments to ensure the wax was cool before slipping it inside the pocket of the vest and buttoning it closed. She draped the garment over the back of the settee, ready for when Nyre returned later that evening.
The bedroom door opened and Mivian strode in. She cast the princess a kind smile.
“Ah, you’re back. Did you enjoy your walk?”
“Yes, it was lovely, thank you,” Sivelle replied.
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” The handmaiden dutifully collected their empty plates from lunch and stacked them neatly in the service chute. “Don’t forget – I won’t be here later this evening. It’s the Winter Fayre tonight.”
The Winter Fayre was an annual faerie tradition to celebrate the best the winter months had to offer – it was a vast carnival of market stalls, bonfires, music, fireworks and festivities.
Every year, Sivelle would watch from her balcony enviously. The Winter Fayre would be the talk of the castle’s serving staff for weeks, both before and after the event. Mivian had often told her funny anecdotes from her experiences at the festival. The princess had always wanted to see it first-hand.
“Gosh, I can’t believe it’s that time of year again already,” Sivelle sighed.
“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Mivian cast her a knowing grin and Sivelle shook her head exasperatedly.
“What is this Winter Fayre all about?” Haros asked from the chair, sitting up to look across at Mivian.
“It’s just a celebration of winter, really. There’s all manner of different stalls – some selling trinkets and baubles, others selling food and drink. There’s usually some dancing and always plenty of silliness. It’s my favourite holiday,” Mivian said cheerily.