The following is an original work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book/story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The following is intended for mature audiences only.
Chapter 17
As dinner ended and dialog remained the same terse dance, I was able to silently slip from the room as a group of eager, aging noblemen crowded around the two kings.
“King Aesiri, what an honor it is to be in your presence.”
“So magnanimous to host the Fae, Your Highness.”
Blah, blah, blah.
Only a stone’s throw from the dining hall, the main gardens called out to me. The crisp air no doubt filled with a tinge of the lush vegetation that waited. Anyone who happened to look through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hall would be able to clearly see me walking about. Not to mention the guard that were spread out across the outer wall. That meant the mask had to remain in place.
Walking farther into the gardens, following the winding stone pathway, my thoughts meandered toward Prince Injaenus. Wanting to blame everything about tonight on him. All my hesitation, never managing to utter a single word. All this time training with Finneck, sitting on the king’s council, attending court, and I was still weak. When tested, I sat like the masked ornament my father, and the court, thought I should be.
The way the Eildun laws were written, this was to remain a Kingdom. Even when I took the throne, which would only happen after I married, it would never be a Queendom. My only hope was to find someone who wished to rule equally, side-by-side. Better yet, I would be able to change the law so I could take the throne unmarried. Giving me ample time to find an adequate partner.
As long as I was conjuring fantastical futures, I pictured myself as a member of the Eildun Guard. A warrior on the battlefield, crown atop my head, defending my people and our lands.
Running my fingers over the soft leaves of the hedges that ran along the path I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be pitted against Prince Injaenus. Would he underestimate me? Would he prevail even then?
“Yes,” I couldn’t help uttering under my breath.
Prince Injaenus had to have been trained since a young age. Given his own armada to command when he was only in his thirties was a testament as to how well he succeeded in his training.
The image of the prince in full armor atop his war steed or at the helm of his own ship gave me pause that I only noticed as a thorn dug into my palm and I didn’t immediately remove.
It wasn’t the prince I danced with fifty years ago, nor the one in the dining hall surrounded by courtiers that was filling my imagination. The vivid imagine that allowed me to ignore the pain in my hand. It was an Injaenus that had yet to be seen any other place than in my mind. One that continued to grow into his immortal body. Finding balance between his confidence and arrogance. A thought that had more affect on my own body than I was comfortable exploring. I gripped whichever plant had its thorn buried in my flesh and let it sink in, focusing on the sting of pain.
Reluctantly releasing the stem, I continued to walk, tracing the fingers of my uninjured hand along the rows of colorful summer blossoms. Trying to spill my racing thoughts into the vibrant sepals. Their petals soft against the pads of my fingers. Running my palm over a particularly large bloom, I relished the opposing textures. Calluses on my palm against the fragile, silk petals. No one had ever mentioned feeling them when they took my hand in greeting. Did they even notice them? Quickly dismissing them as another one of my quarks. Continuing to believe I was nothing but a doll sitting upon my throne.
They weren’t that far off.
A flutter trickled into the middle of my chest. Dropping my hand, I turned back toward the dining hall. The light just visible around the last curve of the path. A dark shape separated itself from the hedges.
A small feminine squeal escaped my throat without my permission. An eye roll immediately followed. Damn, that felt good. The blush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks did not.
“My apologies, Princess Zahrralia. I didn’t realize anyone was out here,” Prince Injaenus said innocently as a smirk graced his lush lips.
No, I did not want to notice such things as the plumpness of his lips.
“I just needed some air,” I admitted waiting for my heart rate to settle.
“It can be rather stifling,” he said lightly.
“Especially when you’re surrounded by women,” I said with a bite before I could stop myself. Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I bit down.
Think first, idiot, I scolded myself.
Certain the prince was accustomed to being bombarded by the attention of power-seeking courtiers, he didn’t need a foreign princess sounding jealous and bitter.
Shit. I was so not jealous.
“Yes,” he chuckled, “being surrounded by desperation wrapped in overly-corseted gowns. Not my idea of a relaxing evening.”
“I assumed you were saving your conversational skills for them.” Gods-dammit. Biting down hard enough on the inside of my bottom lip until a hint of copper hit my tongue.
No longer trying to keep his laugh contained, Prince Injaenus pushed his hands into his pockets. The tips of his elongated canines just visible as he freely laughed at my unintentional candor. I had never really seen a Fae’s pointed teeth up close before. I hadn’t even seen them in person before. Most Fae, especially the royals and nobles, were quite practiced at keeping them well hidden as they spoke, ate, and laughed. Smiling conservatively enough to keep them concealed.
I had once referred to them as fangs around my father. Somehow now did not seem the time to bring attention to them. Even though something in me was disappointed when he hid them from my view again. Like I knew they were there – watching me.
“Like you, it would seem, I don’t always allow myself time to consider my words before speaking.” Prince Injaenus paused, watching my reaction.
I was still too focused on his mouth while trying to control the blush creeping up my burning cheeks, again, to even conjure an acceptable reaction. The mask was becoming a stifled blessing.
“I recently returned from spending over a year at sea. Living for that long with only other sailors as company, well, I agreed with my father. It would be a gamble to allow my mouth free reign,” he continued as a way of an explanation.
My gaze went from his eyes and back to his mouth. What was wrong with me? I didn’t get another glimpse of his fangs as he smiled. Instead, I noticed the way the corners of his mouth tipped up into a dimple on the right side.
A small push against my mental shields brought me back to my right mind. If I could claim that anymore. Not that I could blame the prince. He was being confronted by a masked princess who one minute could barely control her words or emotions. Then the next shuts down, transfixed by Gods knew what.
Besides, if I had been trying to have a conversation with someone staring unabashedly at me without saying anything, I would want to ensure their sanity. Although, at this point, I was beginning to have my doubts on that front.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the excuse of seafaring company to validate my lack of consideration,” I admitted with a noncommittal shrug. Trying to steal attention away from my unwavering gaze.
His soft chuckle filed the air, floated over my exposed skin, skipped along my arms, across my shoulders, and down my chest. Balling my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to shiver under this new sensation.
“Did you train with your Fae Guard?” I asked without pretense, attempting to dispel the aftershocks of his laughter. Yes, that laugh definitely me leaning toward the belief that Fae are innately treacherous.
The abrupt question gave Prince Injaenus pause, his smile fading into a mischievous smirk. “Planning on pulling a sword from somewhere, Princess?” His gaze exaggeratedly roamed my body looking for a hiding place amongst the folds of my dress. Eyes hugging closely to my curves.
“Merely a question to quell my curiosity,” I said wispier that I would have liked. My strength diverted itself from my voice to my arms. They wanted to wrap themselves across my chest and middle, hiding me from his probing gaze. Suddenly feeling naked under the layers of fabric.
“Well, in the interest of curiosity, yes. Me and my brother started training with the guard at the age of sixteen,” he stated conversationally as if he just wasn’t perusing my body with his intentional gaze.
“Do you still?” I asked taking a step forward, I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t know where I was headed with this line of questions. I just knew that I didn’t want to stop now that I started.
“I do. Nostrec only trains enough to keep from becoming a burden,” his tone light and friendly. “He’s a natural with a staff. But don’t tell him I said so. Physical conflict doesn’t agree with him and resents any compliment suggesting otherwise.”
“The King and Queen?” The question was out before I could comprehend the implications. Growing excitement over having a conversation with a peer, forgetting the fact he is supposed to be an adversary, was overshadowing any thought of consequences.
Eyeing me suspiciously for a moment, taking time to consider his next move. “My father is a skilled soldier,” he said slowly. Though the admission was no secret. King Basileus spent the first century of the Caedum on the battlefield. It wasn’t until Prince Injaenus was born that he stepped away from leading his men into battle.
“Sorry, my questions must seem on the verge of an interrogation. It’s just,” cutting myself off, I sighed. “It seems the Eildun and Fae have very different approaches when it comes to training their offspring.”
There was clearly something about this prince. My thoughts and words were striving to be released, to flow toward his energy, not just his magic. I now realized there was a distinct difference between the two. A differentiation I hadn’t known existed before, always equating one with the other.
The feeling in my chest had not abated, but it was no longer uncomfortable either. It only made me acutely aware of the empty well deep inside along with an almost fuzzy feeling surrounding it. One that made me want to wrap my arms around myself or burrow deep into a mound of blankets. Or worse, someone else’s embrace.
Either might very well have been caused my Prince Injaenus’ magic. But the ease his company presented was something else. We may have been proclaimed enemies, but he was probably the only person in Corianth that knew, on some level, what this life entailed. It seemed difficult to see him in a hostile manner at this moment. It was causing an internal war; what had been drilled into my head since birth versus what I was feeling. The man that stood before me didn’t match what I was taught to believe. That was not sitting well.
Instinct told me it was what the Fae wanted us to believe. For the Eildun to fall complacent and drop our guard. The more time spent around this particular Fae was accomplishing just that. I was having a hard time reconciling his motives.
“My mother was taught the basics of combat,” Prince Injaenus continued despite any suspicions he might have had. “But she prefers words to blades.” The smile he gave was full of pride. It seemed Injaenus was as comfortable in my company as I his.
“Unfortunately, I have never had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.” I had hoped this visit would give us the opportunity. Even if she had the new Faeling in her arms. As long as I wasn’t asked to hold the thing. That was an opportunity I was glad to miss. Why did mothers do that? Assume everyone wants to hold their young?
The prince paused. I could almost see him combing through his memories of our meetings. The first being when I was ten. Then only a few years later. Lastly at the Masking Ceremony. Ultimately, now.
“I have no doubt that you will make her acquaintance,” he said with an expression I couldn’t, or rather, didn’t want to interpret. It came across as too intimate. Even though he stood at a respectable distance, he suddenly seemed too close. The gardens became too small. The pressure in my chest no longer comfortable, it was too warm. I was too warm. His eyes drifted down to the hand I pressed to my chest. When did I put that there?
I could feel the stillness of my chest. I was holding my breath. Was this what he wanted? My vulnerability? Right at this moment, it belonged to him and I was frightened. Furious with myself for allowing it. Yet I couldn’t break the spell as I remained locked onto his eyes.
Clearing his throat, Injaenus broke it for me. Tearing his gaze away, I was finally able to breathe.
“I do believe she would force any army, no matter the race, to retreat without brandishing a single, physical weapon,” he proclaimed lacking the same bravado.
After a moment, his eyes returned to mine, seemingly recovered. Mostly.
“Where are these questions coming from?” Injaenus asked taking a step forward.
Balancing on the point of indecision, I debated some more. Keeping my training a secret had not been as difficult as I believed. Those I would wish to know already knew.
I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone at court. Only because I often imagined sinking a blade into a courtier’s chest now and again. Not only to see the look of utter shock on their faces, but mainly to free the world of their vapidness. Now, an opportunity presented itself. Not to stab, but to connect.
Did I trust the prince? Definitely not. Especially after the last several minutes. But the only other royalty lived across the oceans. I was seventy years old; my only true friends and confidants have been Humans that I would outlive indefinitely. Immortality was becoming lonely. Or was it royalty? Maybe both?
Sending my senses out around the gardens, careful to avoid the prince no matter how magnetic his presence was. The nearest guards outside of the dining hall were at either end and another higher up along the wide balcony that overlooked the gardens. No one was within earshot, mortal or immortal.
“My father does allow me to train. Nothing extravagant. Only the basics and only out of sight of others,” I admitted downplaying my sessions with Finneck. Still, holding my breath waiting for him to either laugh or scold the ridiculousness of it all.
“Ah, so I am now in possession of a great Eildun secret,” Injaenus teased, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Taking the time to pace a few steps, making a mockery of princely indecision.
Where I had previously felt fear, I know felt the warmth of relief. “It would seem that you now have me in a very precarious position,” I said trying to make light of the situation hoping I just hadn’t severely fucked up.
Tapping a finger against his chin and muttering to himself, I couldn’t help the exaggerated eyeroll I made certain he saw.
Stopping his pacing to give me his full attention, Injaenus narrowed his gaze. “While I consider my options, I would appreciate some further explanation.”
Smiling, I forced my mouth into a straight line. “My father thinks if our people knew I was training in the ways of combat, no matter how basic, it would stem skepticism in our guard and their ability to maintain our people’s way of life.”
“That is an interesting view. Very diplomatic, but nonetheless interesting.” Eyes darkening, his demeanor turned serious. “Do you suppose it has something to do with your gender?” he asked carefully.
I tapped the nose on my mask eliciting a soft laugh from both of us.
“Princess Zharralia,” a voice called from behind us.
Turning, I found my guard escort from earlier. Shit. I hadn’t realized I had carelessly dropped my senses.
“King Aesiri has requested your presence,” stated the honey-eyes guard. Autem, was it?
“Of course he has,” I muttered. Injaenus huffed beside me.
“I will be there momentarily,” I replied watching his discomfort at the fact that I didn’t jump at the king’s command. Turning my attention back to Injaenus, I sighed. So much left unsaid as questions continued to present themselves in a growing avalanche of curiosity.
Stepping up to me, Prince Injaenus offered his arm with a mocking air of royal arrogance. If anything, the man knew how to play his part. I tried not to think too much on that.
Allowing myself a small giggle before schooling my highly visible mouth, I accepted his offfer with a flourish and a raise of my chin. The Fae Prince wasn’t the only one who could act.
The moment my hand wrapped around his arm a thrum of power ran through me. Not only did my steps falter, the man next to me stiffened. The warmth of the muscled body tensing under my light touch for only an instant.
Without saying or doing anything to acknowledge the current flowing between us that he clearly felt, we followed the guard back into the dining hall.
A few steps from ascending the stairs, the prince leaned toward me and whispered, “your secrets will never leave this garden, Zahrra,”
No mater which secret he referred, I somehow believed him. I also chose to ignore how he referred to me with such intimacy. Hadn’t he done that the last time we were together? Who was I trying to fool? I knew he had. Hearing my name as a woman and not a princess on his lips was not something I forgot. I prayed to the gods I wouldn’t live to regret that decision. That was another great fear.
