by May Dawson
“You’re never ashamed,” Mycroft says. “Even when you should be. Like that time at the casino in Cariho.”
“That could have happened to anyone,” Cax argues. He throws an arm over my shoulders, giving me his most dramatic long sexy look. “If that prince bugs you, just let me know.”
“Okay.” I laugh and duck under his arm, heading for the bathroom to fix my hair.
“I won’t do anything,” he adds. “Because I already spent an afternoon in the dungeon—you’re right, that was definitely a dungeon—and I think I’m done with it. But you can tell me. I’ll listen very sympathetically.”
“I don’t think Rian is going to bug me.” I stick my head out of the bathroom to deliver that, which means I get to see Airren and Cax turn to each other simultaneously and mouth Rian to each other. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you not on a first name basis with the prince?”
“I know him,” Airren confesses. “We never got along too well.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Cax says drily.
“All that responsibility and power and opportunity,” Airren says. “And he mostly wants to spend it yachting and drinking and…”
Airren’s eyes flicker toward me and then away, but I’m pretty sure the third thing has something to do with girls. A muscle tics in Airren’s cheek before he smiles and offers me his arm. “But he is our prince. And I’m sure he’ll rise to any occasion.”
Cax chokes, probably at the thought of Rian rising to any occasion. Perhaps he imagines an occasion named Tera Donovan.
“What are you, eleven?” Airren asks him.
“Try to be on your best behavior,” I say. “The dungeon’s not the worst place I’ve slept, but I want to try out that ridiculously ostentatious bed.”
“Same.” Cax wiggles his eyebrows at me. Only Cax could make an eyebrow-wriggle look as sexy as it does ridiculous.
There’s subtle throat-clearing from the doorway. All of us turn. A servant in a black-and-gold jacket stands in the doorway. He looks studiously non-judgmental, with his thin face blank.
“I’m here to escort you to dinner in the prince’s private apartment,” he says.
“One second.” Airren nods the other two ahead of him. Mycroft rolls his eyes, as if to say he’s not taking orders, even as he turns and swaggers out of the room. Cax stuffs his hands in his pockets as he lopes along beside him. One of them reaches back to close the door.
“What is it?” I ask.
But now that he has me here alone, he glances away. His arms knit over his chest.
I’ve never seen Airren look like he doesn’t know what to say before.
“You’re kind of freaking me out,” I say, because it’s true.
“It’s a good thing the Prince has asked you here,” he says. “I didn’t know why it was at first. I thought maybe he wanted to check in on you…”
“And see if I’m really evil?” Debating whether Tera is truly evil seems to be a popular pastime these days.
“But if he likes you…” Airren’s shoulders hunch. “it would be a good thing, T. It would make you safer.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“So…” He finally looks up and meets my gaze. There’s something clear and resolute in his bright blue eyes. “Be your charming, awkward, irresistible self. Don’t hold back just because there are three other guys in the room with crushes on you, as Cax so helpfully pointed out.”
“This conversation pretty much dooms me to be awkward.” As if I wouldn’t have been anyway.
“I’m just saying, don’t worry about us. Our feelings. What we all want most is for you to be…here.”
I’ve seen Airren in a fight for his life before, but I’ve never seen him frazzled. There’s the faintest high color across his chiseled cheekbones, and he purses his lips as if he realizes how transparent he is in this moment, for once. Then, as we look at each other, he gives in and smiles.
“Make him fall in love with you,” he says. “I know you’re good at capturing the hearts of noble assholes.”
“I’d never call you that.”
“Oh, but it’s the truth.”
I bob up on my toes to kiss him, and his hands wrap hard around my hips.
There’s something different this time when he kisses me. He’s just told me to flirt with another man, because he wants me to stay here in Avalon. It’s not exactly romantic.
But then he kisses me like he needs me.
Actually, maybe it’s pretty damn romantic.
Chapter 12
The prince’s apartment sprawls across the top floor of the palace, a series of lavish but modern rooms. Unlike the rest of the castle, which feels traditionally Avalonian, his living room reminds me of watching movies about the rich when I was dirtside. Low gray couches flank a massive white stone fireplace. The doors to the balcony stand open, and the servant leads us through to the balcony where a table is set with white linen and simple gray stone plates. The space is so filled with lush green plants that it takes me a second to spy the prince, leaning on the balcony railing.
I squeeze Airren’s arm and release, smiling up at him. He winks at me before I walk away.
“It’s beautiful up here,” I say as I come alongside the prince. We have an expansive view of the gardens below and beyond that, the forest that we came through.
“Avalon is a beautiful place,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice. He’s still studying the grounds below, his gaze intent. Then he turns to me, something shifting in his face, and smiles. “And you are so beautiful, you could be its queen.”
I smile, but his words make me anxious. I don’t remember meeting Rian when we were children. He’s handsome, and he seems fun, but his expectations for me seem like too much. He already seems to think he knows me, to feel as if we’ve spent time together before that meant something. I can’t help but think I’ll disappoint him.
His lips part. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “I wish I remembered when we met before. It’s bothering me.”
“It shouldn’t. I’m only teasing when I complain about how I failed to leave an impression on you, while you….you stole my heart.” He turns back to the view. “If you must know, we played tag, and you were fiendishly fast.”
I was a really fast runner at seven. And I was really proud of it.
“We played hide-and-seek,” he adds, “and I tried to steal a kiss.”
“How did that work out for you?”
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Maybe that’s why I remember you being fiendishly fast.”
“Somehow I doubt I really would have run from your kisses.”
“Are you still fast?”
“Yes.”
From the way he smiles, my quick response seems to delight him.
He holds his arm out to me, crooked for me to take his elbow. “Ready for dinner?”
“Absolutely.”
He escorts me to the table, where a servant is already carrying drinks to Airren, Cax and Mycroft, who have taken their seats, leaving two side-by-side chairs empty. Something about my men making a concerted effort to make it easy for me to win over Rian touches my heart and leaves me melancholy all at the same time. But there’s no time to obsess over it.
I take my seat, and Rian lifts a glass of vivid, bubbly hot pink liquid from the servant’s tray. “Here’s hoping you still like bubbly passion fire lemonade as much as you did when we were children.”
When I take the delicate glass stem from him, our fingers touch. It was my favorite drink as a kid, but I haven’t had it for years.
“To old friends,” Rian says, with a glance at Airren before he turns his broad smile on me. “And to new.”
“Salut,” comes the chorus around the table, as we all clink glasses. Airren is smiling when we clink glasses. His mask is up, and it’s impossible to know what he really thinks, as usual. Mycroft gazes stoically at nothing. He looks ridiculously bleak for a man holding his favorite beer.
Meanwhile, Cax grins at me across the table cheekily. He lives for drama.
I take a long sip, but the drink is so sugary-sweet that it almost burns my tongue. No wonder seven-year-old Tera loved this drink so much. It’s like liquid Pez.
“You don’t like it?” Rian asks.
I set the glass down beside my plate. “I’ve changed a bit over the years. I’m sure we all have.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Airren murmurs.
Rian shakes his head, smiling. “Airren and I knew each other when we were kids, too,” he confides to me. “We went to school together. Of course, he was much older than you and me.”
“Not that much older,” Airren disagrees.
“Well, it seemed significant when we were children. Not so much now that we’re all adults.”
“More or less adults,” Cax says.
An arm reaches over my shoulder, settling a bowl of soup in front of me. The servant that the arm belongs to melts back into the shadows.
“Lobster chowder,” Rian says.
It’s another of my favorites.
“So tell me what it was like when you arrived Earthside,” Rian asks.
His expression is intent, curious and sincere. Cax’s smile falls away, and Mycroft shifts forward in his chair.
“That’s a big question.” I flash a smile at him even though I doubt it reaches my eyes. “It’s tough being cast out of…paradise.”
Rian’s eyes widen in surprise. “Paradise? Here?”
His response makes me feel foolish, and I stumble to explain. “It’s close enough,” I say. “You just don’t realize until you’re...”
“But there is so much trouble here. The True. The threat of the Ravengers.”
“I don’t fear the Ravengers when I know the Marines are here.” I glance at Mycroft, smiling. He looks at me miserably over the rim of his beer before he throws the rest of it back.
“Perhaps that’s because you’ve never been face-to-face with one,” Rian suggests.
“And neither have you, your majesty,” Airren says pointedly.
“True enough. I suppose Tera and I are both quite grateful for the Marines,” Rian says lightly.
“In the end, it’s magical here,” I say, trying to defuse tensions. “There’s danger Earthside too, but no adventure. No mermaids, no unicorns, no dragons, no magic.”
“I imagine you bring magic wherever you go.” Rian’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
It sounds like a charming line. Does he know that I’ve lost my magic? Or has Radner kept that for herself rather than passing it up the chain?
“I imagine I do.” I take another sip of my liquid Pez to buy myself time to collect myself. The sugar rush is growing on me.
“What was it like your first day on Earth?” he asks.
Thinking about that first day sends a stab through my chest, but it’s not nearly as bad as the stab when I imagine myself going back.
Airren may regret this, but he gave me permission to be awkward.
“Why do you ask?” I meet Rian’s eyes evenly. “I thought at the time it was the worst day of my life, but by the time five years Earthside went by, it didn’t make the top ten anymore.”
He nods consideringly. “I suppose I should feel guilty.”
“I suppose you should,” I shoot back.
“I didn’t have a choice at the time,” he says calmly. “I wasn’t involved in matters of state.”
“Me either.”
“And you’ve chosen to leave most of those matters to your father and sister, haven’t you?” Airren asks the prince.
His tone is innocent, but I don’t think he’s fooling anyone in the room.
Still, Rian takes it in good humor, throwing up his hands. To me, he says, “This is why I wanted to have dinner with just you, and not the critical masses.”
“To be fair, he’s hard on everyone,” Cax tells Rian. “I’m one of his best friends, and he doesn’t like me much either.”
The conversation sweeps into light-hearted banter, but I’m stuck on the question about my life Dirtside. The memories that rise when I think about my life seem so sad. I don’t even mean the big things, like having my magic stolen or being attacked by a couple of kids barely older than me. It’s the little things: hearing other people laugh in a crowded place as I passed through with no one to talk to, or eating fried rice from the Chinese takeout place a few blocks away in my room, alone, on my birthday.
“So tell me about this dragon friend of yours,” Rian demands cheerfully.
As if she knows we’re talking about her, Penny chitters, loud right next to my ear. I rub my hand between her ears, but she creeps down my arm, her claws sinking into my bare skin. I extend my arm, frowning to scold her, but she jumps from my arm to Rian. He laughs, a boyish sound of delight, as he catches her against his chest.
“She’s really quite scary,” I say. “Don’t let her fool you.”
“I’ve heard,” he says, but he still plants a kiss between her ears before she curls up in his lap contentedly. “I think I’m safe, though. She seems to like me.”
“She has questionable taste,” I say lightly, and the prince grins in response. I’m still curious if he could be the Fox, and I gaze at his eyes, trying to remember the color of the Fox’s eyes behind his mask. “Yet another scandal. There hasn’t been a dragon born in a hundred years, and then she goes and bonds with dirtside scrum.”
“Dirtside scum?” Rian’s eyebrows arch. “Who’s called you that? Who do I have to kill?”
The Fox. The Fox called me dirtside scum, but he said it fondly.
“You don’t need to have anyone killed,” I assure him, smiling as if it’s a joke, although you can never tell with the royals. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know,” he says. “You have a dragon.”
I look down at his lap, where Penny has begun to lick his hand with her long, rough little pink tongue. He grins apologetically.
“It appears you’ve stolen my dragon,” I say.
“Yes,” he says. “How questionable is your taste, Tera?”
Awkward. I wave a hand at Airren and Cax, ignoring Mycroft, who glowers. “Have you met my traveling companions?”
We all laugh, and the awkward moment passes. Dinner passes pleasantly enough. The prince is funny, a good story-teller, and he loosens even more, having a drink with each course. And there are a lot of courses. I take a glass of wine to escape the Liquid Pez, and then another, although there’s no keeping up with Rian.
If he was really devoting his life to rescuing Vasiliks, I can’t imagine he would drink so heavily and risk saying something that would give away his cover. As the evening wears on, I enjoy his company, but I can feel my curiosity about him fading away.
I’m not terribly interested in princes, I suppose, no matter how useful they might be. But heroes like the Fox? They’re a different story.
He escorts me back to my room when dinner is over. Airren checks Mycroft—I can see Mycroft’s thunderous face, just for a second, before he cedes to Airren on this one—and the guys fall behind us. We only have the ball to get through tomorrow and then we can escape the castle. I’d rather be with my guys in our crappy little dorm room, or even sleeping in a tent, than with anyone else in the most luxurious accommodations.
“Good night, Tera.” He lingers with his hands in his pockets. We’re so close that I can smell his cologne—a really nice, expensive sandalwood scented cologne—and the liquor on his breath. With another man, I might be anxious right now, but I do think Rian wants to be a friend as well as something more. The bashful way he lingers in front of me, his hands in his pockets, makes me feel like he’s letting me take the lead.
“Good night, Rian.” He’s sweet, but I don’t want to kiss him, and I feel almost guilty pretending that I don’t see his interest. It would be smart of me to flirt with him and lead him on, but I don’t have it in me.
I rest my hand on the doorknob to my room.
“I’m glad we met a second time,” I say, because it’s true.
His gray eyes sparkle. “Is it just the second time?”
I’m still trying to make sense of that, and of what to say next, when he turns and swaggers away, his hands still in his pockets. He whistles a low tune, and he has perfect pitch.
I don’t know what to make of the Prince of Avalon, but I’m pretty sure he’s trouble.
Of course, I usually find myself hopelessly mixed up with trouble. I already have three kinds of trouble, waiting for me just down the hall.
Chapter 13
I can’t sleep in the palace, no matter how incredible the bed is. I keep tossing and turning, thinking of Moirus—a name to put with my nightmares now—and of the top ten list of bad days that I mentioned at the dinner table.
It’s not the past that haunts me, not really. It’s the way the past wraps its bony fingers around the present, twisting me into someone who isn’t quite who I want to be.
The memory of Rian’s face fills me with guilt, too. There was that optimism and bashfulness when he walked me to the door. I don’t deserve for someone to be so sweet and aching toward me. He thinks I’m a different girl, the grown-up version of that seven-year-old he met.
But that girl died in my father’s house at the edge of the sea. Maybe she died when they dragged me out to thrust me through the portal, or maybe before. Maybe it was when I walked barefoot over the sunken lawn, and understood why it was suddenly pitted, and looked up toward the ocean and realized there were a hundred graves between me and the salty sea.
When I can’t take it anymore, I get out of bed and pull a sweater over my head, making my way to the door. Airren made sure I knew where their rooms were before I went to sleep—he didn’t seem to like me staying in my own room, but he didn’t say a thing about it—and none of them will mind me knocking on their door.
I pull open my door. There’s a dark ball in front of me that tumbles backward onto my feet. I jump back as shoulders, then a head, roll onto my toes.
It’s Cax, sprawled across the floor, blinking up at me now. “I guess I fell asleep.”
