The Golden Prince

by Nikki Jefford

  My parents hadn’t fared much better as rulers. Everyone knew they’d nearly bankrupted the castle treasury giving out large loans to anyone who asked. All those faeries promising to revitalize the town’s commerce had taken the sacks of coin doled out to them and fled the kingdom like bandits.

  Uncle Liri said it would take several decades of raised taxes to make up for my parents’ idiocy. The nobles and gentry weren’t impressed with my parents’ politics, even after they’d learned their lesson about handing funds out so freely.

  Their hearts had been in the right place, unlike the Fae who had cheated them, but the citizens had been left to pay.

  “Are there expenses we could cut in the castle to lessen the burden on Dahlquist’s citizens?” I asked, thinking of the extravagant party my aunt had just thrown.

  Folas grunted. No answer followed.

  Maybe I’d try taking it up with Uncle Liri the following day. Of course, now he would view it as showing weakness in the face of a threat. I knew Dahlquist wasn’t my mom’s favorite place, but I enjoyed my time here. Despite the gossipmongers and social climbers, I loved court life. I loved the flagrant attire, costumes, music, food, and wine.

  I wanted the entire kingdom to thrive.

  This was my home.

  This was the place of my heart.

  After depositing me at my door, Folas left. A warm bath awaited me in my chamber. The servants knew not to attend to me.

  I removed my crown and necklace, followed by the shoulder and wrist cuffs. Stepping out of my sandals, I next pulled off the Speedo, giving a sigh of contentment as I climbed into the tub. The water could have been warmer, but it would do. I was unharmed and had been allowed to remain in Dahlquist.

  I dunked my head in the water then soaped my hair before giving my locks a thorough rinse. Wet cloth in hand, I rubbed the gold shimmer away, then rose from the tub and dried off.

  Pillar candles set my room aglow. I brushed out my hair and toweled it into soft, slightly damp waves. Then I tossed the towel aside and walked around my room naked, extinguishing the candles, save one. I left a single flame burning from a tall white tallow candle beside my bed.

  There was always the chance Crispin would visit by dreamscape to ensure I wasn’t bedding his intended.

  Folas had our rooms warded against dreamscaping. I was glad for it. I didn’t need Cadmi and her underlings intruding on my sleep, talking dirty in the hopes of enticing me to their guest chambers. The occupant of the room, however, was able to inscribe exceptions into the wall using glittered powder that vanished after tracing the name with the tip of a finger.

  My dads had wanted me to inscribe their names so they could check on me. I’d said a resounding, “Oh, hell no. You can portal into the castle and knock on my door if you need to check in.”

  But there was one name I’d written. I’d laughed at myself as I’d spelled it out. Ludicrous. He’d never visit my chamber, physically or spectrally.

  But I left the candle burning all the same. If Crispin ever dared try it, I wanted to catch him in the act and fling it back in his face.

  “So, you’ve decided you want to play with me after all,” I’d drawl.

  I could just imagine his look of indignation before he blinked out.

  I was prepared to lay awake half the night. It wouldn’t be hard. Slumber wasn’t a comfort that came easily to me. Ever since the night Alok Elmray knocked me out with sleeping dust, I’d struggled to drift off peacefully. I had a fear of remaining unconscious. Vulnerable. Helpless.

  Sleep felt like the first step toward that dark abyss of nothingness. I fought it off like an ogre trying to club me over the head.

  I’d never actually fought an ogre, but my mom and Ryo had battled a whole army of them. Hearing the story repeated throughout my childhood left an impression. The damn creatures plagued my nightmares.

  When the insomnia got to be too much, I’d taken to sniffing sleeping dust. It sickened me to inhale the very substance that had once taken away my control. But I also needed sleep to stay sharp. I only used it when I was wearing thin. No one knew about the small glass vial I kept hidden in a drawer beneath my cotton sleep pants.

  Tonight, there would be no taking a sniff, not even the tiniest pinch.

  Head nestled into my pillow, I closed my eyes and played back the memory of Crispin rolling around the courtyard in his toga. It had been tempting to rip the white robe right off him for a peek at the goods beneath, but I’d behaved myself. Mostly. I hadn’t copped a feel when I could have. I’d merely defended myself from his pushy, grabby, slappy hands.

  I smirked. I seemed to be the only one who could get under Crispin’s skin. It was too easy. Too fun. Too dangerous.

  One of these days, we’d go too far. One of us would end up hurt. We’d become more than adversaries. We’d become enemies. That, or the impossible.

  Lovers.

  Oh, what amusement my delusions infused. As I allowed them to spin happy tales through my mind, my head sank deeper into my pillow. It was so out of character that I didn’t notice sleep claim me.

  Crispin

  Don’t do it, I told myself as I wore a path across the burgundy rug in front of the guest bed.

  I strode up to the vanity, where I’d deposited my crown over an hour ago, and picked up the brush beside it. The bristles loosened the minor tangles in my long brown hair. Once it was silken, I gathered it into a tie at the nape of my neck. My robed costume had been discarded and replaced with tailored pants and a white dress shirt. The reflection that looked back at me in the mirror was poised, revealing nothing of my erratic heartbeat. I looked damn well dressed to pay court to a royal prince. Idiocy.

  His room would be empty. Surely, by now, Lark would have returned with his father to the elven realm. If I had the misfortune of appearing before him, I’d inform his princeliness that I was making sure he hadn’t seduced Pervinca to his bed.

  It sounded like a perfectly reasonable excuse to me.

  Before I had a chance to back out, I strode to my bed, sat, and laid back. Closing my eyes, I traveled through the castle mentally to King Lyklor’s wing, where Lark was known to reside. I sank into the blue depths of his eyes. I left my body behind and projected inside Lark’s bedroom. I had to bite my tongue to hold back my gasp of surprise. My body wasn’t there, but my voice was. I hadn’t expected this to work. There should have been wards blocking me. But I’d made it in without any resistance and found Lark in bed.

  Light glowed from a single candle. I froze, sure I’d get caught. But Lark didn’t bellow at my intrusion. His lids remained closed, his chest rising and falling with gentle breaths as I approached his bedside.

  A single white sheet covered him up to his hips. He lay on his back, bare-chested and beautiful. Candlelight shone over the smooth, muscled planes of his abs. His face was a mask of tranquility. Soft lips smiling slightly. Blond hair pressed into his pillow.

  I drank him in like honeyed wine. The longer I looked, the harder my heart pounded.

  He looked angelic. It reminded me of Lark as a boy.

  Why had someone tried to harm him? Who would do such a thing? For what purpose?

  My spectral hands fisted. I loosened them and refocused on Lark.

  Thick, dark blond lashes feathered the soft hollows above his cheeks. My body made no sound as I leaned in closer. This was the closest I’d ever get to kissing him, and I wasn’t even here.

  Pulling abruptly away, I made for the door. Halfway across the room, I remembered I could vanish anytime. I closed my eyes and envisioned my body back in my room. When I reopened my eyes, I was laying on my back, staring at the ceiling, alone in my cold bed.

  There were dark circles beneath my eyes the next morning. I rubbed at them in front of the vanity mirror as though that was all it would take to make them disappear.

  There’d been no sleep to be found. It was almost impossible whenever I stayed the night at Dahlquist.

  My travel trunk was already pac
ked, and I’d dressed at dawn. Once daylight emerged through the open window, I stepped into the hall and rapped gently on my sister’s door across from mine.

  It took a good minute before she cracked it open an inch and squinted through the crack. Through that thin sliver, I saw Kenzie still wore her nightgown.

  “Crispin? Why are you up so early?” She groaned.

  “Best we get an early start,” I replied.

  “I still need to bathe and dress . . . to say nothing of breakfast. Will you wait to accompany me to the banquet hall?”

  I couldn’t very well march my sister out of her guest chamber in her nightgown. “Come get me the moment you’re dressed.” I retreated to my room and resumed pacing.

  Following a ball, breakfasts at Dahlquist were an informal affair with cold cuts, crumpets, and other pastries set out on a serving table for guests to pick at. Servants stood along the walls, ready to pour tea and refill platters once the food was picked over.

  Usually, I could avoid running into Lark in the morning. He was known to enjoy the revelries until the very end and sleep in late—sometimes until afternoon the following day.

  But, oh no, of course not today. He sat at the table facing the doors, looking fresh-faced, which was especially impressive after the attempt on his life. If anything, he looked as though he’d slept peacefully. I ought to know.

  Cadmi leaned over him, halfway in his lap. Another female sat on his other side, watching him intently. The Elmrays’ most trusted guard, a great towering blond muscled giant, stood several feet behind Lark, his thick arms folded.

  Kenzie yanked me over to the group. She was surprisingly strong given how I tried to pull her in the opposite direction.

  “Prince Lark, I am so happy to see that you are well. We heard about the harpoon.” Kenzie’s eyes went wide.

  Cadmi pulled out of Lark’s lap, straightening her spine to flick a glance over my sister. “Kenzie, you poor dear. You missed all the action.”

  “There wasn’t much to see. It was over in a blink.” Lark’s voice softened when he addressed Kenzie. I would have been grateful if he didn’t throw a wink in with it. I narrowed my eyes, but his attention was on my sister.

  I pulled Kenzie away and kept tugging.

  “Crispin, why are you taking us so far down the table?” she whispered, eyeing all the empty chairs we passed.

  Being unable to lie could be a real inconvenience. I wanted to tell her I had a headache and needed quiet.

  “I’m tired,” I said.

  She squinted at me, probably wondering what that had to do with sitting at the far end of the table.

  “I lack the proper energy to make social niceties,” I added.

  “Oh,” Kenzie said. She studied my face and frowned. “Are you still upset with Pervinca?”

  I grimaced, then schooled my face as I made eye contact with a server. “I will take tea.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Another server stepped forward to pull back Kenzie’s chair and mine.

  As I sat, Lark stood, taking his white linen napkin with him. He dabbed at his mouth before tossing it onto his plate. Cadmi got to her feet and reached for his arm, just missing it as he stepped away from the table.

  “I suppose the next time I see you will be at the Ashcraw ball,” Cadmi’s voice carried across the room.

  My spine stiffened.

  Looking down the table at me, Lark smirked. “I wouldn’t miss it for all the worlds.”

  He seemed to think his attendance would bother me. He had no idea. If he did, he’d likely stay far away from me. Maybe, instead of slapping him, I should have kissed him and ended my misery once and for all.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Crispin

  A little after midday, our carriage pulled up in front of Charleston Inn. We were over halfway home. Whenever traveling to or from Dahlquist Castle, our driver stopped at Charleston Inn. It was the place Father had always stopped to take lunch. He said it was the cleanest of all the midway spots.

  Our meals were served promptly. I always appreciated seeing the same middle-aged matron with her tidy brown bun and starched white apron. She addressed my sister and me with respect and didn’t stand around making idle chitchat.

  While the horses were watered, my sister and I lunched on creamed soup, crusty bread, and a crumble cake in the cozy dining room. Our driver, Hayes, lumbered over to the tap room. He was a short, stocky male in his fourth decade. Father insisted he keep a small sword sheathed at his side. It was all for show. We didn’t have the funds for both a driver and a bodyguard. I kept my own sword inside the carriage. I’d been fencing since I was a child. I never expected to use my blade in actual combat. Everyone knew my family wasn’t worth much, nor did we hold any real power. We came from a long line of noble Maglens, for whatever that was worth. It guaranteed an invitation to all the best parties, at least.

  Having exhausted all conversation about who we’d seen and what they’d been wearing at the Dahlquist ball, my sister and I fell into an easy silence in the carriage after lunch.

  Kenzie stared out the window. Farron Forest lay to the west. To the east, we passed alongside small villages and pastures filled with sheep. The lands outside of Ashcraw were known for their wool. Unfortunately, silk was all the rage, and that is what Leland imported from kingdoms throughout Faerie. Father was stuck in the old ways. Staring out at the fields of green dotted with white specks, I could see my whole life stretched before me under his roof and rules. Pervinca would become my countess and ease our financial burdens with her family’s fortune. I would be a dutiful husband and son.

  Knowing what was coming left me numb. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to wander to more pleasant fancies.

  I imagined Lark waking from his sleep after I dreamscaped. I saw him fisting the bedsheet and flinging it aside.

  “Is this what you’ve come to see?” he demanded in my dream.

  What I saw was him naked and hard. He slid out of bed and prowled toward me, fire in his eyes. I could feel the heat radiating from his skin and my face basking in it.

  But I wasn’t there, so how could that be?

  It didn’t matter. This wasn’t real. This was my imagination running wild. In my dream, Lark stopped a foot in front of me and raised one dark blond eyebrow.

  “Well? It’s only fair that you show me yours.”

  The same giddy sensation I’d experienced in the dreamscape returned. I felt like a naughty little boy getting into mischief.

  My fingers jerked to the fastening on my pants as though Lark was the one now controlling the dream. My hands trembled. The ground shook beneath me. My sister screamed. Kenzie’s shriek was not part of the dream. My eyes flew open as the horses squealed and the carriage lurched. We halted. The carriage quaked and filled with the sound of wild neighing.

  “Easy!” came the frantic order of our driver.

  Looking out the window, I saw the reason for the horses’ distress. A centicore swung its long-pointed horns from side to side. Goat-like hooves lifted into the air when it jumped onto its hind legs. I’d never seen a centicore up close. It was terrifying. Tusks jutted from ferocious lips. It was brown with a rope-like tail, frayed at the end with a brush of black hair that whipped around. In size, the creature matched our horses, but the similarities ended there.

  Kenzie flew over to my bench and clutched tightly to my arm.

  The carriage jerked to the right as the horses tried to get away from the beast.

  “Easy. Whoa. Whoa,” Hayes yelled.

  The carriage flew forward as the horses took off at a gallop. Kenzie and I fell off the bench. I scrambled back to my seat and pulled my sister up with me. Staring wide-eyed out the window, I saw the centicore loping alongside us.

  “Crispin,” my sister pleaded, as though I could snap my fingers and make the creature disappear.

  It dashed out of sight, but that didn’t ease the tension. The carriage jolted to a halt. Kenzie and I w
ere tossed from our bench again. I landed hard on my knees and winced. Kenzie rammed into my back.

  The neighing started from up front, and the carriage trembled.

  “Be gone with you. Get!” Hayes bellowed.

  “I have to help him,” I said, unfastening my sword from beneath the bench.

  “Don’t leave me!” Kenzie grasped at my elbow, her eyes going wide.

  The horses shrieked and took off again. Kenzie screamed.

  “Whoa!” Hayes yelled to no avail.

  The carriage curved, taking a bend much too fast. It tipped to the side, dumping me and Kenzie as it crashed to the ground. We landed against the glass window, which cracked beneath us. The carriage continued to shudder as the horses fought their restraints, nickering frantically.

  I grabbed my sword and stood. Kenzie looked up at me with a trembling lower lip.

  “Stay here,” I commanded. I pushed open the door facing skyward, grasping around the edges to pull myself halfway out.

  Hayes was on his feet, small sword drawn as he advanced on the centicore.

  No! I wanted to scream at him. I doubt he would have heard over the braying racket of the horses who stomped their hooves and jerked at their reins.

  The beast pawed the earth and lowered his head. Two long horns jutted behind his head as he charged. Hayes bellowed and thrust out his blade. The beast brought a horn around, a weapon much longer than Hayes’s blade, and speared the poor driver’s thigh.

  Hayes screamed. The beast pushed in deeper then reared back, removing a bloodied horn. Hayes crumpled to the ground.

  The centicore sprang around the carriage, glaring up at me with black eyes. Reaching the other side, he pawed the ground and shook his horned head. I set my sword down flat against the carriage. I nodded. The centicore lifted his muzzle, watching me. I held still. He jumped onto his hind legs, eyes going wide. I felt as though his hoofs were beating over my chest. I made no movement. I turned my head to the side in case he was taking my eye contact as a sign of aggression.