A Royal Pain: Paranormal Dating Agency (Otherworld Shifters Book 3)

by Godiva Glenn

  “My… but I never sought you.”

  The aspect stepped to Blair’s side and placed a hand to the tree’s trunk. A soft red shimmer appeared around the leaves, as if a light shone within. “My great-great-great… well, many generations-past granddaughter pled your case to me. Bledwen Aodhán.”

  Bledwen was the adoptive mother of the prince, but Blair had never met her and barely knew Kerren. “I’m not sure how it came to be her concern.”

  “Your story came through many channels. It takes a lot to break through the magic of the Fade. A bevy of sprites pestered me as well as the lady Aodhán. That precocious Vevina led the one group. Bledwen called to me on behalf of a human who claimed to be your friend. And to be honest, had it not been the human whose blood helped awaken our land, I may have ignored it.”

  Blair could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Are you here to fix me? Cure me of my tainted desires?”

  Concern creased the aspect’s brow. “No. I can’t fix you in the way you wish. But I can shine light onto why you have come into this awakened state.”

  Blair’s shoulders slumped but he nodded. “I would like to understand.”

  “You know, of course, that during the last war, this field saw its share of atrocities.”

  “Yes. That’s always been known to me. But I’m not the only dryad born of bloodied soil.”

  The aspect’s head tilted and acknowledged this. “To this day, though, there are areas of Prism that simply do not promote life. Grass may grow, but nothing magic. Fields that were once fertile for crops now can barely support weeds, even though so much time has passed.”

  “I wasn’t aware.”

  “No, I suppose not. The fae don’t speak of it. It is a point of discomfort to dwell on the ravaged land and recall what made it so.” The aspect motioned a large arc across the field they stood in. “This land is unfit for magic. I stand in it and sense nothing but the despair and desperate prayers of the fae who died here. Dryads can sprout from blood, but not from the ruined dreams and hopes of innocent lives ended unfairly.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of the hundreds, if not thousands, of seeds that landed here, only you took root. And look how magnificent.” The aspect gazed up at the boughs with clear pride on his face. “Only the strongest of my children could survive here. You should not have managed, yet your branches are thick and protective. Your roots solid.”

  “But I’m flawed.”

  “No. Not at all.” The aspect placed a comforting hand on Blair’s shoulder. “You absorbed the base spirit of the wishes of all that died here.”

  “Is that why my tree… isn’t enough? Why I long for more?” Blair asked with trepidation. It seemed crude to admit such blasphemy to an aspect. His tree was supposed to be everything to him.

  “I wish it weren’t so, but yes. And I can’t fix that. I can’t take away the years you’ve spent soaking in the memories of this land,” the aspect said with a hint of remorse. “But I can try to ease your suffering.”

  Blair shook his head. “But how?”

  “What is your desire?”

  “Freedom,” Blair answered easily.

  “And what would you do if I could grant you freedom? If you could move past the barrier that your tree currently imposes?”

  “I would go to Earth.”

  Shock crested on the aspect’s face and Blair immediately regretted his hasty confession.

  “Your desire is to leave Prism entirely? Not to explore it? Not to be given the chance to settle with other dryads, perhaps?”

  The thought of moving and settling down in a beautiful grove somewhere was tempting, but it wasn’t his heart’s desire. “If I could move, that wouldn’t make me any less strange in the eyes of the rest of the fae. It would only make it worse.”

  “You shouldn’t let that dictate your wishes. The other fae could never fathom what you’ve been through. Their judgment and assumptions should not sway you.”

  “They don’t. I’d still be aware. I’d still long for more.” Blair stepped away from the aspect and his tree. “You may understand why I have these feelings, but perhaps you don’t understand the depth. I have stopped contributing to the pollination season.”

  The aspect closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “You don’t wish to continue.”

  “I do not.”

  The importance of participating in the dryad’s mating season was lost on human Brook and even Vevina as a sprite, but the aspect understood perfectly. Dryads reproduced to continue their own existence. It was how they kept memories going. In a way, it was like living forever.

  That Blair had given up, it was akin to suicide, albeit it would be a death still centuries to come. His tree still flourished for now.

  “I have seen no other way. And I lied before. I have pled to you. Many times over many years I have begged for you. I have tried to leave my land. I have tried to lift my roots. I have lived a torturous existence, alone and sheltered from a world I am told is magical and expansive.” Blair’s voice rose as he continued,

  “And yes, if you grant me this wish, I’d leave and never look back at the suffering I’ve endured, the blood I’ve drunk, and the father that neglected me.”

  Tears fell down the aspect’s cheeks and fire blazed in his eyes. “I will grant you this wish.” He held his hand up and cupped the side of his face, catching a drop of moisture. The tear solidified into a silver seed. “When you are prepared to face your desires, press this into the heart of your tree. Your roots will be lifted, and you will have the power to leave this world.”

  He pressed the tiny seed into Blair’s hand and folded it closed. Blair stared down. He could barely feel the object against his palm but knew it was there and knew it was priceless.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’ve said enough.” The aspect stepped back, releasing his hold on Blair’s hand. “I have to warn you. Without your tree, you won’t be able to return to Prism once you leave, and the magic is not perfect.”

  “I’ll be human?”

  “As close to human as I am able to produce. You will need to replant the seed on Earth, or the magic will fade. Your tree needs roots, regardless of where you go.”

  “How long will I have?”

  “I don’t know, truly. Magic is unpredictable, and time is not my domain.”

  The aspect began to glow, the brightness increasing until it was too much to look into. Blair turned his head away, hands shielding his closed eyes. When he felt safe to open them, the aspect was gone. The seed twinkled in his hand.

  “I love him but me makes me want to scream and throw things and just behave quite unladylike in general,” Alethea fumed.

  “Can’t speak ill of the King,” Nikki replied. “So, let’s talk hair.”

  Alethea threw a grape at her cousin. Every time she ranted about her father, Nikki’s response was the same. Can’t speak ill of the King.

  “He’s not going to banish you from the palace. I would never let him.”

  “Sorry, but sometimes he has a point.”

  “Really? He told me that only ladies of the night wear red lipstick,” Alethea said with a raised brow and a pointed look at Nikki’s own bright red lips.

  “Maybe.” Nikki waggled her brows. “Okay. Men of our father’s generation are old fashioned. Perhaps it’s not excusable for them to remain in the past, but I don’t think goading them is the best way to bring them around.”

  “It’s infuriating because when my mother was alive, my father wasn’t like this at all. Now she’s gone, and the entire island is slipping back into patriarchal nonsense.”

  Nikki crossed her long legs at the ankles and flipped through the fashion magazine in her lap. “Maybe it’s how he’s grieving.”

  “You always take his side.”

  “Hair?”

  Combing her fingertips through the long strawberry blonde waves, Alethea bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”

&nb
sp; “I know. I’m just desperately trying to steer the conversation away from uncle Andrew.”

  “What do you think about Pavel Illoski?” Alethea stood in front of the full-length mirror, hands on her hips as she checked every angle of her dress. Her father had arranged a date for her. In his mind, the right man would ‘calm’ her. She had to go along because his word was literally royal decree.

  But just because she had no interest in Pavel didn’t mean she wasn’t going to look perfect.

  Nikki tossed the magazine aside and brushed at her cream pencil skirt. “I think there are worse blind dates.” She tapped a perfectly manicured fingertip to her chin. “We’ve met a few times before. He’s handsome. Charming. I’ve always thought he was the lifelong bachelor type, though. He stands to inherit his father’s dukedom and a ridiculous amount of wealth.”

  “That probably explains father’s interest. And let me guess, he’s as conservative as they come?”

  “I have no idea. I think he’s always neutral or uninvolved. Honestly, he might be a catch.”

  Alethea left the mirror and sat next to Nikki. “I need more than charm and looks. With my luck, he’s going to be incredibly dull.”

  “I don’t remember him being dull. He’s a flirt. But not the creepy sort. I think you should play along.”

  “Never. I don’t need a man, and any individual perfect for me would never gain father’s approval, so why bother?”

  Nikki rolled her eyes. “I mean just find someone to have fun with. For someone who hates the idea of marriage, you seem to equate meeting a man with planning a future. In the real world, we date. You should try it.”

  “I date.”

  “Your idea of dating is letting a guy take you out once, and you grill him incessantly to make sure a second date never happens.”

  “I have more important things to worry about,” Alethea groaned.

  Nikki scoffed. “Go out. Order the most expensive thing on the menu, because Illoski can definitely afford it, and I don’t know… maybe enjoy his flirty smile and pretty eyes. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Famous last words,” Alethea said with a sigh.

  Alethea pushed a cold floret of broccoli across her plate as her stomach rumbled. She was hungry, and not for a fancy salad. What was I thinking, letting him order for me?

  Sipping his red wine, Pavel scoped the room. So far, their conversation had been pleasant and light. As Nikki predicted, he’d been polite yet flirty, and aside from ordering her the insulting salad, she thought maybe something could work.

  She dropped her fork and took a breadstick from the basket between them.

  “Is something wrong?” He motioned to her plate. “Is the vinaigrette unpleasant?”

  “No,” she said carefully. “To be honest, I’m not sure why you ordered me a salad. Is it because…”

  “Because every time I’ve seen you eat, it’s been salad?” he asked with a confused tilt to his brow.

  She picked at the bread and tried to imagine what he meant. “Really?”

  “Yes. It stuck in my mind because at the last… What was it… Oh, yes. The silent auction raising money for the local children’s center. They had the most remarkable choices, and you still had salad. I assumed you were a vegetarian.”

  She grimaced and nodded. Here she was, thinking it was because he was subtly digging at her weight. “What an astute observation,” she admitted. “But I would have loved anything but the salad. There seemed to be a mix-up that night.”

  That mix-up being that her father’s assistant always managed to bribe or possibly threaten the servers at dinner events into keeping food from Alethea. Lydia claimed she was watching out for Alethea’s health, which was code for trying to put her on a diet.

  Pavel lifted two fingers into the air, summoning their waiter. “Could you take away the salad and bring the fresh swordfish with a side of lamb?”

  The waiter took Alethea’s plate and scurried off.

  “A side of lamb? I’m not sure I’m that hungry.”

  “I am. I ordered this mushroom couscous because I felt strange eating much of anything if you were eating grass.” He scooped some onto his fork then let it fall off, watching it dismally. “For the prices here, the couscous should have gold flakes, no?”

  She grinned, and something shook free in her, allowing her to relax. She’d been too busy analyzing him and being on the defensive to enjoy his company so far, even if he’d been oozing natural charm.

  She looked around. “Did you choose this restaurant? Or did my father give you an itinerary?”

  He scratched his cheek. “I chose, but where else would one bring the Princess?”

  Indeed. The last three men she’d met with had brought her here. It was the most exclusive restaurant for miles. But of course, there was always a private table upstairs if you brought royalty with you.

  “I feel I should be honest,” Pavel said, his fingers spinning the long-stemmed glass of wine before him. “My parents arranged this with His Majesty.”

  Nothing surprised Alethea about that statement. “You don’t wish to be here.”

  “I have no qualms with having dinner with a pleasant companion.”

  She shrugged and offered him an honest smile to put him at ease. “It’s fine.” It was fine, except that she suspected she simply wasn’t his type, and that was frustrating. She could have grown to enjoy his company, and he was the best prospect so far. “We can certainly enjoy dinner.”

  The waiter returned after a few minutes and set two plates down, both steaming and giving off divine aromas. Alethea immediately dug into her fish and wild rice, but Pavel seemed distracted.

  “I should explain,” he said after a moment.

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t like the public eye,” he began. “I feel like an ass to admit this, but I just don’t see myself with anyone who is constantly being photographed and scrutinized.”

  “Oh.” She’d actually never had a date feel this way before. If anything, most of the men who approached her lived for notoriety. “That’s fair.”

  “I’m having a wonderful time tonight. I didn’t know what to expect. But even with that…”

  She held up her hand. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t exactly wish the attentions of the paparazzi on anyone.”

  He stabbed a piece of grilled lamb and brought it to his lips, blowing on it carefully before eating it. Finally, he said, “I was honest with you. And you can be honest with me. You had no interest in this date. And if we’re both fine with that, then I think we can have an enjoyable time.”

  “That sounds like the best suggestion I’ve heard in ages.”

  “Well, here’s another one. There’s a matchmaker in town. She’s from the States but her reputation is far spread—”

  “No, thank you.” Alethea paused with her fork raised and piled high. “Trying to convince me that I need a man is not my idea of an enjoyable time.”

  He tilted his head. “I didn’t say you need one, but why wouldn’t you want to give it a go? She’s here on vacation, I hear, but certainly she could make an exception for you of all people. I’ve got her email address.”

  Alethea’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you have her email?”

  “She’s from the States, not an enchanted forest. She’s easy enough to look up.” He waggled his brows at her. “Come on. I feel like I owe you.”

  Alethea shook her head and returned focus to filling her empty stomach with as much fish as possible.

  “Fine. What would be a worthwhile evening for you?”

  She swallowed and pondered this for a moment. Behind him, tiers of bottles were glittering in the dim light. She pointed to the bar. “Shots.”

  It was the middle of the afternoon and Alethea’s head was still stuffed full of clouds and cotton. After taking a sip of tea she put the cup down as gently as she could to avoid hearing the high-pitched clatter of it touching the saucer. She’d partied a little too hard last nigh
t.

  On the one hand, her father was glad that she’d managed to not duck out of the date early. On the other, Pavel’s driver had dropped her off in the early morning and if she hadn’t been told that, she wouldn’t have known how she got home. In the entirety of her life, she’d never had that much to drink.

  Perhaps she should have told him that she’d never done shots before, only seen it done in movies and on television. They made it look fun. The reality was less pleasant.

  Even sitting up on her couch was a chore. The room was spinning, her head hurt, and there were substantial portions of the night missing. Her phone rang, and the loud chiming made her groan and put a pillow to her ear as she dug around the room to find it and shut it off.

  The number displaying on the front wasn’t one she recognized. Pavel, perhaps? She answered and collapsed into a fetal position on her floor with the phone pressed to her ear.

  “Hello?” she mumbled.

  “Is this Princess Alethea Spiros?” the stranger asked. It was the voice of an older woman, an American if she had to guess.

  “Yes…”

  “Wonderful. This is Gerri Wilder. I’ve read your… spirited request for a match and I would like to meet in person to see about taking the next step.”

  Alethea’s mouth dropped open and she tried to understand what was happening. She remembered saying no to hiring a matchmaker, famous or not. But a nagging memory was dancing in the background of her thoughts. Her. Pavel. Vodka. More vodka.

  “I think there’s been a mistake.”

  “I don’t make mistakes. If you’ve changed your mind, that’s your choice. If not, there’s a cozy little hole in the wall that serves fried sardines, and I’m curious to try them out.”

  The image of the battered, salty fish made Alethea’s stomach churn and she couldn’t answer.

  “If you come, I’ll give you my secret remedy for hangovers,” Gerri promised. “And it’s not something I offer lightly.”

  “Where?”

  “Dear, I can’t pronounce the name of this place to save my life. I’ll send you a message once we hang up.”