by Rebecca Grey
“Gentlemen, from now on, know that you are a piece of trash under the boots of the king. You are nothing and you are disposable. You take your orders from the man above you and the only word that trumps theirs is our king’s word.” Roars of agreement rose from the crowd drowning out his words. “Place the pin on your shirts and revel in the pain.”
Slowly, I followed suit placing the pin on my shirt, damp with sweat. The metal was cool against my skin.
“Welcome to the guard! You’re gonna love it!” Marcus shouted over the men, throwing his arms up in the air and the remnants of his ale across the line of men before him. The other men of the guard had lined up before us rubbing their knuckles as if they were ready for a fight.
It wasn’t the fight they were ready for but the initiation. One at a time they approached the line, pulling their arm back before hitting right on the pin. The first hit I felt the metal push into my skin. The second it was starting to ache. The fifth hit had it bleeding. By the tenth hit, I was pissed.
EIGHT
Ryker
Plush overstuffed furniture called to be sat on. A bed that could have easily fit every servant that bunked in my room was turned down with feather pillows. Nausea flooded my body, what would await me in that bed?
I tried to hold back but my fingers moved on their own accord tracing the floral pattern on the couch I sat on. The space was wider and longer than I could imagine and as far as I knew this was only a guest space.
My palms felt slick with sweat, I pushed them down against the cushion as my eyes wandered. The exits consisted of the door we came through, a second door that I can only assume is the private bath, and lastly a set of large windows that opened to a balcony.
Orange and pink swirled between the hazy clouds. Brilliant yellow rays of sun quickly disappeared as the day yielded to night. It made the land here look more beautiful than what it did up close. At a distance it was green grass, abundant gardens, and manicured pastures. The closer you get, though, the easier it was to see the blood shed. I would know.
My hands balled up into fists at my sides as I watched fearfully as the two guards with us left. Silence followed their absence. No one to break the quiet except me and the daring prince.
Dace was a powerful noble fae, the damage he could do to me was near unimaginable. If he willed it he could take my life and no one would bat an eye.
Deep set ocean eyes searched over my body from head to toe before his husky voice tore through the silence. “You seem a little under fed.” He reached up to stroke my face.
A cold shudder swept over my flesh. All too quickly, I pulled away, my back hitting the couch reminding me of how trapped I was.
“Do not touch me.” I snarled.
Dace dropped his hand and laughed. “You’re like a rabid beast. Just chomping at the bit.”
I did not find this funny. My eyebrows scrunched as I gave him my best menacing stare.
“Really though, help yourself to a bath, some food, you can even sleep in this ridiculous bed if you’d like.” His hand plucked a shiny red apple from a waiting food tray. He rubbed the fruit against his shirt, shining it further.
“Are you suggesting that I stink?” I held my chin higher. I did stink, a lot. Baths were few and far between for nymphs in the Heathern Court. I’d be lucky to be hosed down after a hard day in the stables with Daethian after we worked with the horses. It would be a lie to say I didn’t wish for the warmth of a real bath, like I hadn’t dreamt about it so many times. Some lies though, should be taken to the grave.
“I’m not suggesting you smell like roses.” One eyebrow quirked. Dace examined the apple before sinking his teeth into its flesh. The action felt like a threat.
“I won’t sleep in that bed with you. You’ll have to kill me and sleep next to my cold body.” I wouldn’t do it. He would have to force my hand. Though as a fae he would likely like it, the sick fuck.
“While that can be arranged,” he smiled humorlessly at his apple, “I think I’d prefer the couch though.” With that he flopped down on the armrest of a chair and just stared at me, waiting.
When I didn’t respond he started again. “When was the last time you had a proper meal, nymph?” His teeth dug into the apple for a second bite. The piercing stare of his gaze shifted from me to the apple for a moment. Dace sent the apple flying through the air as he tossed it at me.
“I have a name.” I held his attention, catching the apple out of my peripheral vision. A sweet scent washed over me, saliva already pooling in my mouth. Like a traitorous whore, my stomach growled loudly.
“Ryker, am I right?”
I blinked, then blinked again. My memory of the fae from the Twinity Court resurfacing as a slow sneer graced my lips.
“I’ve heard about your kind. Of the future you see in your sleep. Tell me, is this how you imagined our encounter?”
“Would it frighten you if I said yes?”
Yes. And it did.
An unwanted flutter of nerves made my mouth feel dry. I tried to swallow, desperate for something to soothe the painful feeling. What did he already know about me that I didn’t? Did he know how I would die?
What was I supposed to say in this situation? Was he serious? Or was he playing a mean joke? His nonchalance would not fool me. He looked more cunning and dangerous as he crossed his legs and watched me down the sharp point of his nose.
I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again, not sure what to do with myself. We did that for a minute, he stared while I tried to think of something witty to say, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water.
“Would you just take a bite of the damn apple?” He rolled his icy blue eyes. Annoyance made his movements jerky while he stood to pluck at the table full of food. Humming a slow tune, he pieced together a plate of meat, veggies, and fresh fruit. After the meal he had consumed with Ganglin I’m surprised he had any room left to eat at all.
With his back turned, I took a delicate taste of the fruit, careful to avoid the rough carvings of his own bite. His humming stopped at the crunching sound of my bite and then continued as he turned around with a devilish smile.
I almost didn’t care. Almost. This apple, this damn apple, was bursting with flavors. Each juicy bite tasted like the sunshine that had grown it. A moan nearly escaped me.
Completed with his task, Dace stepped closer to me, holding the plate out. Everything on his plate filled my nose with scents of food I hadn’t tasted since before the Day of Ruin. Perhaps, I had even forgotten what they tasted like? It looked really, really good.
Amused, he placed the plate in my hands. So, I held the plate as if it was fragile, waiting for it to be ripped from my hands or thrown in my face, or better yet for him to pick off of it and eat it while I clung to the scents of the decadent feast.
A large hand sprawled between my shoulder blades. A feeling, I shied away from. Dace wheeled me forward to a small table and chair near the curtained window.
“Your persuasion won't change my mind.” My eyes trail between the food and the handsome fae.
Tapping loudly against the wood, the prince drummed his fingers. “Persuade you to what, exactly? I’ve only asked you to bathe and eat to your content.”
Was that really all he had asked of me? My thoughts stuttered. No, it would be foolish of me to let my guard down, like him taking me back to his room was a good thing when we knew it was not.
“You don’t get to try and sway me with your good looks, offering me food and other luxuries not allowed to my kind.” I set the plate down loudly. “Your charm is deceiving and I won't be lured to your bed after being bought by your kindness.”
“You think I’m good looking and charming?” His toothy smile grew.
I released a tense sigh. “You would only hear that part, you arrogant bastard.”
“Ow.” He gripped his chest like he’d been hit by a sword, feigning like the pain would kill him. Thin lines formed around his eyes and his mouth puckered as he ten
sed. “Quit hitting me with your nasty little remarks. You forget I’m royalty. I normally only hear pleasant things about myself unless it’s coming from my parents.”
Skin stretched tight over my knuckles as I fist my hands in frustration. Fae were impossible creatures.
It wasn’t often or ever actually, that I was given an opportunity to eat my fill of real food. This was a far cry from the usual cabbage soup we ate for dinner. Still, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him or if this plate could really be meant for me to eat. I fought the hesitation that had me questioning if this was a good idea and let the more primal, hungry, needy side of me take charge.
My ears filled with the sound of my obnoxious chewing. Sweet bits of berries exploded against my taste buds in between the savory bites of meat. Mother, I missed real meat.
The prince’s smug expression grew as he stood and watched me eat. My eyes focused down on my plate, or the table, or the few exits of the room, but never did they flicker up to him in the midst of the uncomfortable silence.
Dace didn’t act like what I expected a fae prince to be. Though the fact that this seemingly kind gesture could be a facade did not miss me. Cool, poised, sarcastic, and ruthless before King Ganglin to now… still cool, poised, sarcastic, but ultimately kind? It was clearly a ploy.
Anxiety built to a high in my chest, like a knot that lived and breathed and sunk heavy claws into my gut before it would strike. He was a ticking time bomb as I waited for him to make the first move. How much would it hurt when he finally released the angry power that was surely waiting underneath this pompous mask?
“Well, it’s been a hell of a long day and frankly I need to rid myself of every time Princess Maggie touched me.” His eyes unfocused and a long shiver danced down his spine. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get cleaned up and ready for bed.”
With a spin on his heels he turned to walk away, pausing as soon as I opened my mouth to speak. He knew I would ask him another question. How much of this night had he seen in a dream?
I asked the question anyways. “What is going to happen to my friend?” I managed the words but they sounded weak and scared. I hated this fear that these powerful men gave me. Though, I hated the fact that I let it affect me more.
“I can’t share with you the fate of your boyfriend. Only offer you some kindness in the middle of this chaos.” Dace looked grim.
I can’t share with you the fate of your boyfriend. That couldn’t be anything good.
The painful knot of anxiety tugged again. Vegetables on my plate looked a lot better than holding eye contact with the fae anymore. An ache began to form from the intensity at which I clamped my jaw shut. Food still remained on the plate to eat but it no longer looked satisfying.
Dace turned away heading toward the bathroom. As the door clicked and locked behind him I slowly stood and walked back to the only exit, other than the balcony. With my ear pressed firmly against the heavy door I listened for any signs of guards, but with my magic dampened, I couldn’t be sure. Screw Ganglin and the magic that suppressed our powers.
Steam was slowly rolling out from under the bathroom door meaning Dace was busy bathing. Cautiously, I let my fingertips brush the doorknob. I twisted it quickly without thinking.
Locked.
“Knock it off.”
Stumbling, I yanked my hand back at the noise that came from the other side of the door. It must have been one of Ganglin’s guards judging by the chuckle.
The rest of the room felt too large, excessively furnished, quiet and lonely. My limbs fidgeted, unsure of what to do with me. So, I resigned myself to be nosy and began picking through the room. Opening drawers, which were mostly empty, and squinting at the messy scrawl of writing on waiting letters over the desk kept me busy for a time. I checked for spaces I could barricade myself in in case this took a turn for the worst. The wardrobe held a few outfits but was hardly stocked full, I guess the prince packed light. While looking over the expensive curtains and peeking behind them, my thoughts were interrupted.
“Find anything interesting?”
My eyes widened as I took in the sight and it registered that the prince had emerged in nothing but a towel. His blonde hair was flattened to his forehead. Still damp from the shower, water dripped down his muscled chest and over every dip of his abs. Light hair bloomed in curls in a small patch over his pecs and a line of it ran below his belly button, framed by the V of muscles pointing down. The question seemed less pointed in regard to my snooping in his room than how eagerly I took in his attractive frame.
I scolded myself for the errant thoughts and shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance while I averted my eyes to the ground. Somehow I had forgotten what a man could look like bare when he was well fed and exercised. Oh the Mother, hold my ever beating heart. Now I was comparing the prince to a well bred horse.
“I’m enjoying your presence.” He cocked his head to the side, watching me. “You've got a quick tongue and your expressions give away your every thought. You’ll get better at that with time, you’ll need to.”
“Tempting me with a glimpse at my future again?”
Dace ignored the question, fisting his hand in the white towel at his waist. He paused only briefly to give me a crooked smile. “I’ve run a fresh bath for you if you’d like.”
My mind wouldn’t let me forget this was a luxury. One that was never offered to me in the Heathern Court. It wasn’t the flowing water that cascaded over rocks and twisted with each river bend that washed away the day like the bubbling brooks we used when I was young, but luxury nonetheless.
“Will you attempt to join me once I’m in?” I needed the answer before I willingly took off these clothes and stepped into the waiting waters.
Dace scowled with the audacity to look appalled. Both hands now clung to the towel covering him as if I was the one who would take advantage of him. “No, I will not touch you unless you ask. That is my promise. Lock the door if you’d like.” He waved his hand toward the bathroom door in dismissal.
Excitement was nipping at my heels. I didn’t want to give it momentum and let it trick me into trust so I fought the growing grin on my cheeks. No matter what he gave me, no matter what he said he was fae and he couldn’t be trusted.
Steam stood like a wall I had to walk through as I opened the bathroom door. Warmth caressing my body and calling me forward toward the waiting water. Firmly, I pressed the door closed, twisting the small lock. I doubted it would hold should he feel the need to break in, but it was one small reassurance of an additional barricade between us.
Even with the clean outfits provided for this special dinner the material still felt itchy and cheap. I lifted my arms over my head tugging my shirt off, my finger sliding into a small hole within a seam. Eagerly, I tugged at the string that had been tied around my waist to hold up the pants, watching the material fall as it unbound.
Bubbles foamed with small rainbows glistening within their fragile shells on top of the still water. I dipped my toe in, hissing at the heat, then relished the feeling as I plunged my leg farther in. Water lapped at my dry skin as I stepped fully in. Soap stung at all the little cuts and still healing marks on my back from the last time I was whipped. Warmth seeped into me, my sore muscles melting against the stone tub.
The white cloth left folded over the edge of the tub was a near creamy blend of velvet and plush fibers. Though the material was soft I took great care as I ran the towel over my body.
Happily, I sighed. This was like a vacation. A vacation that I didn’t deserve. How could I let myself enjoy this while the other nymph were off eating their cabbage soup and preparing for bed in those tiny bunks. My meal felt heavy in my stomach.
Stupid, beautiful fae prince. Dace kept me from Ganglin’s bed just to treat me so well here? What was his angle? Why couldn't I figure it out? Water splashed as I slapped the surface, then gripped the sides of the tub and lifted myself out. Behind me I left the water darkened with dirt. Decidedly, I also left behind
the tremor of fear that ran through me when I was faced with a powerful fae. Fear and worry wouldn’t change the circumstances, only I could.
Plush like the cloth, my fingers met the towel laid out across the stone countertops for me. I curled it against my calluses and frowned at my brown stained nails cursing this very day. With a long sigh, I gently dropped the towel. A tall mirror that stood nearly as high as the ceiling reflected my poor image. My eyes looked like they were hiding in dark caves, their sunken appearance outlined with dark circles. Rough patches of dry skin were visible making me look more ashy, my skin already impossibly grey. If I wanted, I could count my ribs. I disgusted myself.
Folded neatly near the towel rested flowers of silk, woven together into an intricate nightgown suited for a goddess. I was no goddess and it felt wrong that the materials should be meant for me. No matter how I wanted to fight the onslaught of thoughts that suggested I was less than, the fae had pounded that mentality into me for so long it had become my first reaction. Even the thought of wearing the high quality nightgown just felt plain wrong. I folded the material and set it back down with a deepening frown. My dirty clothes waited in a heap by the tub. With a firm shake, I tried to dust them as best I could before slipping them back on. An aroma of dirt and sweat assaulted my senses. Maybe I should have let myself relax in the gown provided for me. No. No other nymph would be wearing silks.
A small bead of sweat broke over my forehead, my hands shaking even as I steadied them while I reached out to open the door. The hinges, well taken care of, didn’t make a sound. A thin sliver of light crept through the small opening where I cracked the door. My eyes roamed over the large bed and its yellow blankets. If I wasn’t so scared of what Prince Dace could possibly do to me, I might have run, jumping onto the bed and let the material swallow me whole.
What would the nymph who changed the bedding the next day think when they saw the dirt from my clothes against such fine materials? Would they pity me for what they would think was a stolen virginity? Would jealousy raise its ugly, green head with envy for my night spent with a prince in silks and comfort?