Kingdom of Mirrors and Roses

by A. W. Cross

  “But—”

  “Human.” A squeeze accompanied the harsh word.

  She pulled from his grasp, yanking his hand away from her throat. Fire blazed in her eyes. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  He only tilted his head, regarding her with a sneer. “Why don’t you fight them like you fight me?”

  “Why?” Her head raised. “You’re one person. It’s easy to fight when the world isn’t against you.”

  He stepped forward, pushing her back. “I alone am more frightening than an entire human army.”

  “You really believe that, don’t you?” A chuckle vibrated in her chest. Lifting her hand, she set it against the empty pit where his heart should have been. Only his thin shirt separated her touch from the horrors. “Compared to the scorn of people who were meant to love me. Compared to the expectations of those meant to encourage me. Compared to the segregation, the striking loneliness, all your terrors are a dream. A perfect little fantasy of a dream. And in it, with you, I am finally free.”

  He moved forward, and her shoulder blades hit another tree. Leaning close, he caged her there. Warm fingers stroked her cheek. “You’ve always had the defiance of a faery. But the way you’ve been treated has forced you into a grotesque mold. If you have no rights even before your mother, how much worse would it be to defy a prince in your land? You’ve been forced to live in fear far too long.” He searched her expression. “All the while you’ve been trying to escape, haven’t you? Not from me. From this.”

  Her eyes closed. “When you took me far away, you gave me hope to be rid of them.”

  His lips pressed to her forehead, and her breath caught. Fingers brushed through her mind, skimming the tips of the memories his words had brought forth. Home wasn’t safe. The ostracization of her sisters and others her age. The leers she had faced. Punishments for speaking up; punishments for expressions; punishments for escaping too far into the woods, her one solace.

  “They are unworthy of you,” he murmured, breath hot against her skin. “So unworthy of you. How ever did you manage to grow while suffocating?”

  Peace allowed a smile to cross her lips, and she moved her hand from his chest down his arm until her fingers laced with his. “Come with me. I’ll show you.”

  ✶

  Starlight surrounded Fayre’s body as she floated on the lake. Twinkling, the lights shone through the breaks in the canopy, illuminating her silken undergarments. Though what she wore was sheer, she didn’t feel embarrassed in the slightest.

  “It is beautiful.” Auber floated beside her, but when she glanced at him, he was hardly staring at the same dark sky.

  A flush heated her cheeks. “I’ve never been able to see it like this before. In daylight, I know every inch of Lake Avalon, but at night it was expected I not be in the woods.”

  “Avalon…” Auber exhaled. “A legend surrounds that name, but it’s an old tale. I’m sure you’re not interested.”

  “Maybe I am.” Fayre moved closer to him and dipped her legs beneath the water. Resting on his bare chest, she laid her head against her folded arms, watching him. “But there’s actually a different story I want to hear.”

  “Oh really?” He smoothed his fingers through her wet hair, teasing the water lilies that had bloomed there. “Your wish is my command, princess.”

  His smile faded when her gaze flicked toward the pit in his chest. He began to retreat before she could speak, so she rushed her words. “Please. I want to know what happened. Who did this? Can it be undone? Don’t—” His body fell from beneath her as he sat up. She clutched his arm. “Don’t you dare pull away from me, Auber.”

  He stopped short of prying her fingers off him. “So you do remember my name.”

  “Don’t go there. You’ve used my name a whopping total of once too.”

  “A miracle you remember that with how drunk you were.” Reaching forward, he plucked the thin strap of her blouse off her shoulder where it had fallen and returned it to its proper place. “You want the story of my tragedy? Fine. But there will be a price.” Silver shimmered in the jet black of his eyes, his gaze roaming over her, down through the clear water, to where her legs moved. “And I won’t tell you what it is until after you’ve accepted.”

  “What’s the worst thing you could want from me?”

  His fangs glinted. “That, my dear, would be your heart.”

  Her heart responded, pumping triple its normal rate, but she didn’t back down. “If that’s all, I accept.”

  10

  “It happened a long time ago.” Auber slicked back his hair, glancing toward the bank. “Long before you existed. Back when I’d barely existed.”

  Fayre’s eyes widened as she tread water. “You’ve been like this that long?”

  He met her gaze, a wry smile thinning his lips, but he didn’t respond directly. He merely continued, “You asked who did this to me; I brought it on myself. Even then, human life was inconsequential in my eyes, and there were far fewer of the fleas about, but they’ve always been a disease. Always spreading. Growing. Mutating. Destroying. So full of fear and stupidity.”

  “You can move forward,” she grumbled.

  Auber scoffed. “I’m merely providing a full and honest answer. I saw humans like insects. Pests. An infestation.” His head lowered, darkening his gaze. “So I planned to wipe any who didn’t meet my standards out of the mortal realm. I was going to play god.”

  Tightness clenched around Fayre’s chest, and she fought against the water pressure to get a full breath. “You were going to…but?”

  “A wizard intercepted my plans, cursed away the heart he said I wasn’t using, and trapped me for a time in the Land of Youth.” Auber’s lip curled in a sneer. “I’ve been out for a couple centuries on good behavior, tending to children and collecting bits and pieces of human essence for my…” He cleared his throat. “In part, for my amusement, I suppose.”

  He kept his eyes off her, so she whispered, “You don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

  Slowly, his brows rose, and he graced her a glance. “That’s your takeaway?”

  “I swore you were my age.”

  He snorted. “Twenty-five is still a little jump from seventeen, isn’t it?”

  She shrugged, hugging herself. “Is it?”

  The full moon reflected in the water between them, rippling, and Fayre watched the scintillating image while he searched her. “Do you have any other prying questions you’d like to ask?”

  “How do we end the curse?”

  When the moon’s reflection wavered and broke, she realized he had moved closer. “Why would my having a heart be so important to you?” Touches of allure sprinkled his tone, caressing her skin until her hair stood on end.

  “If you had one, you might not ask me to pay with mine.”

  “Judging by my chipper little tale, I wasn’t exactly a model of goodness while I had it. I might still want yours.” A wolfish grin split his face as he advanced. “I’m pretty certain of it, actually.”

  His legs skimmed hers, and a shiver skated down her spine. “Don’t toy with me. You’ve evaded the question. Why aren’t you keen on answering? Are you afraid to get your heart back?”

  “No.” Purposefully this time, his leg touched her skin. “I saw an opportunity for amusement is all.”

  “You’re horrible.”

  “So you keep saying. Yet I’m not stopping you from running back to your town. I wouldn’t stop you if you asked me to take you back to Myre. I’d escort you anywhere, now that you’ve learned the truth.” He stared a long while. “Just ask.”

  Her heart raced, but she said nothing, moving away as he continued advancing.

  When her feet sank into mud and her back pressed against the bank, he backed off, standing. “And you’re still here.”

  With solid footing, she let air fill her chest. “I still have much to learn before I can choose to go anywhere.”

  “Yes, yes.” Chuckling, he shook his head, moving p
ast her. He planted his hands on the bank and lifted himself from the lake, water streaming off his muscle and outlining the toned flesh. “I’ve grown fond of you, Fayre. I’ve admitted that. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to grow fond of how your human half allows you to lie.” He snatched his shirt off a bush and shook it out.

  “It wasn’t a lie,” Fayre snapped, “but if we’re pointing out species traits we can’t stand, you’ve still ignored my question. How do you get your heart back?”

  She refused to stare at the way the linen hugged his dampness as he pulled his shirt on, but he smirked as though he knew she had noticed, then he said, “I don’t remember. I was young. I didn’t care. I didn’t think it would affect me as much as the years have made it. In my mind back then, being grounded was the worst part of what happened, and when I did realize how horrible it feels to have nothing inside me, the bastard wizard refused to reiterate the terms.”

  Fayre’s eyes narrowed, and she pushed against the bank, lifting herself out of the water. “Do you know where to find him? We’ll just see if he won’t see reason.”

  “I’m the tiniest bit scared for him.” His smile never faltered as he retrieved her clothes and handed them to her. “You’re a wonder, little boar.”

  “Are we back to that nickname?”

  “Fun fact about pigs, when they eat, they grind their back teeth to rend flesh from b—”

  “Thank you, Auber!” She met his grin with a grimace. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “You can hope what you’d like. But I don’t know where to find him, haven’t known since he listed the terms of my probation and returned my right to traverse the realms. Anyway, you have lessons to occupy your mind.”

  “But—”

  He curled a stray hair of hers around his finger. “Your sentiment is touching. If I had a heart, I might be able to appreciate it more, but I am centuries older than you. It is not your duty to look after me. Quite the opposite, little one.”

  Frowning, she clutched her clothes against her chest, letting the night breezes calm her as they dried her skin. “Fine. Treat me like a child.”

  He turned his head toward the sky. “I’d rather not.”

  “Wh—” Before she could finish asking what he meant, he had scooped her up in his arms, turned on his heel, and whispered something before diving into the lake. The sensation of skimming through glass brushed her flesh, and when he set her down, they were once again in Myre.

  Without a word, he clasped her hand and dragged her half-naked to his chambers.

  ✶

  “Perfect.” The whispered word trailed a shiver down Fayre’s spine, but she remained still while Auber circled her. His gaze ran over the lace gown hugging her body. Layers of sheer gauze displayed the brown skin of her arms and chest. Yards of silk tickled her ankles with every slight move.

  A blush coated her cheeks, her eyes following his rounds. She hadn’t known what to expect after he’d told her he wouldn’t be treating her like a child then sat her on his bed. However, luckily—or perhaps unluckily—he’d immediately turned toward his armoire and brought out reams of silk.

  Her gaze clung to the way his head tilted and his fingers slipped over his lips as he appraised her. Those teasing lips tipped up when he caught her look. “What?”

  “I should ask you the same,” she mumbled, wrenching her attention away from him and to his standing mirror. “What’s the occasion?”

  He combed her wet hair over her shoulder, lingering with his touch against her neck. Roses bloomed in response. “You’ve achieved control over the flowers. You can safely traverse the human realm now.”

  Her heart clenched, fear taking root in her veins. What was he saying? Was this his goodbye since she had prodded too deep? “I have more to learn before I dare—”

  His thumb silenced her. “Yes. We should move forward.” Taking her hand, he tapped her palm. “Next lesson: your natural defences. The thorns. Considering how untame you are, I’m surprised you’ve yet to unwittingly unleash their fury on me.”

  She stiffened. “That outburst could happen again? I thought it was just because I had come of age.”

  “It was possible because you had come of age, but you presently don’t have any control over whether or not it will happen again if you find yourself stressed. A problem as I hear life boils with stressful encounters.”

  “How do I learn to control something so erratic?” She stared at her palms when his hands fell away. Power bubbled beneath her skin, and she knew she could call on the thorns at will, but to stop them against instinct?

  “You must lose control, harness the feeling, and understand how to subdue it.” Auber turned on his heel and crossed to the door. “Come along.”

  A final glance in the mirror, and she followed. “What does this have to do with the dress?”

  He rustled the dampness from his hair, leaving only dark, dry locks behind. She absently wondered if she could do the same before he replied, “We established you’ve little desire to return to that village. There’s no use holding on to worn garments from a past life. Your future lies before you.” Auber stopped before two huge doors, raising a hand and smirking at her. “A gown from lands past yours. It suits you.” He snapped.

  The doors creaked low as they swung open, displaying a ballroom shining with gold. Chandelier candles flickered, each fixture hanging at a different height, some close enough to touch, others far out of reach.

  Massive windows stretched to the ceiling at the other side of the elaborate room, and a brilliantly dark sky shimmered beyond, each star like a shard of broken glass. The scene stole Fayre’s breath.

  Auber bowed, extending a grey hand. “May I have the honor, little boar?”

  Her expression sterned, but she accepted his hand. “I’ll never be rid of that endearment, will I?”

  Leading her out among the chandeliers, he didn’t falter. “I’m attached to it. No one else I’ve met has warranted a nickname from me. I’m averse to give it up.”

  “Should I be honored?” she scoffed.

  His hand found her waist. “Are you?”

  “Of course not.” She laid her fingers across his shoulder.

  Pulling her near, he murmured, “Really?”

  A little. But she’d not say. Instead, she fluttered her lashes and provided a coy smile. “Why not change it into a more appealing nickname?”

  He snorted. “What? Like ‘starlight’ or ‘dewdrop’? Hardly fitting.” He traced her lips with his eyes, sweeping her across the marble. A symphony from beyond the midnight windows guided their steps, and she released herself into the melody, one breathless twirl at a time.

  After several rounds, his whisper found her ears: “You’re enchanting.”

  Her heart stuttered, eyes snapping open, but she managed to keep her wits. Raising her chin, she gave him a once-over. “So are you, though I’m not certain if it’s due to magic or that lustrous grey pallor. Nearly as vibrant as a corpse. How could any resist?”

  “Assuredly, the pallor it is then.” A fang peeked out of his grin.

  They wound a dozen more paths throughout the room, fire licking their sleeves when they drifted too close to the chandeliers. With every twirl, she found herself nearer to him, but the stillness she felt beneath his shirt quelled the intimacy between them, and she pulled herself from the stupor. “How does this help me control my thorns?”

  “It doesn’t. I just couldn’t very well let that dress go to waste.”

  The gauze sashayed around her bare feet and ankles. “How admirable of you.”

  “I thought so.”

  She stared deep into his eyes, heat welling in her chest until it spread across her cheeks and out through her limbs. “You’re nothing like I’d originally thought, and you’re hardly what you seem to portray either.”

  “Appearances are seldom worth the time some take to put them together.”

  “So why do you?” The question escaped before she realize
d.

  He wet his lips, bending near. “Because I’m a faery. I’m dangerous and childish and enjoy pretending to be both at once.”

  “Does that mean you’re neither?”

  His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “I suppose you may never know.”

  “I think I’d like to.” Her breath fanned over his neck, and his shoulders tensed, a shudder running through him.

  His head curled down, pressing his cheek against her hair. She rested against his beat-less chest and closed her eyes on the ache the missing sensation inspired. The music seemed to slow, but he didn’t release her.

  “What do you desire now, Fayre? With all of the world mere thoughts away, what would you do with your eternity?”

  Breath eased past her lips. “I want to see everything. Feel everything. Experience more than I could while I was confined in that town. And I think…” Her hand squeezed his arm, and she moved back to look him in the eye. “I think I’d like to do some of what you do as well.”

  His head tilted. “What exactly do you think I do?”

  “Help people.”

  He paused. “That’s not what I do.” Glancing away, he took her hand and led her to the balcony. A chill hugged the air, but it had warmed some since the snow had first taken hold. He rested his elbows against the railing and elaborated. “I don’t do anything for free. I don’t only help good people or children either. I do what suits me and satisfies the terms of my probation. That’s all.”

  “Then I will do what you do but with the intention of helping people.”

  He laughed, the sound like a scoff. “You think you can do what I do without a price?”