Princess of Fire and Smoke (Forbidden Court Book 1)

by Stephanie Bell

  Of course, you have. No one wants a broken and dirty crown princess.

  I sigh, fighting back my anger. This girl is only following orders, none of this is her fault.

  “Of course, that would be lovely,” I say as I walk past her into the bathing chambers.

  My eyes instantly go to the deep-set tub in the center of the room. Steam billows from the water and the scents coming from it are tantalizing. I can smell a hint of lavender and mint. I quickly undress, with the help of the servant, who has to cut the shirt off me, due to the cuffs.

  Just as I am about to step into the bath, there is a knock at the door that has me groaning.

  The servant girl goes to answer the door and comes back with a blush on her face. “Excuse me, Your Highness. There is someone here to see you.”

  “Fine,” I grunt, casting the water one last longing look. The servant girl brings a robe for me to put on but just stares at my handcuffs. Unsure what to do with them.

  “Just hand me one of those towels,” I tell her, trying not to take my annoyance out on her. She obeys as I raise my arms and instruct her to wrap the towel around me.

  I dismiss the servant girl and stalk through the bedroom and into the sitting area. Whoever this is should be glad I don’t have any magic right now.

  When I storm into the sitting room, I see Caspian leaning up against the wall beside the fireplace. He eyes me wearily, and I am suddenly very conscious of the towel wrapped awkwardly around me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “What do you want?” I ask as I walk to the other side of the fireplace and glare at him.

  He frowns as he stares down at me, his eyes trailing from my face down to my toes and back up, finally landing on my arm. “It looks like you haven’t had a great couple of days.”

  “Thank you so much for pointing that out for me, I hadn’t noticed.” I let the ice coat my voice. Hoping he’ll get the picture and go away.

  He takes a step towards me and I step closer to the fire.

  I might not have my magic right now, but if he tries something, I can defend myself in other ways. I see a fireplace poker just within reach.

  He holds his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Calm down, Princess. I'm not here to fight. I brought a different pair of cuffs for you. They will make things much easier. Allow you to get ready and be healed properly.”

  “Wow. You're such a gentleman,” I pack as much sarcasm into that statement as I can. Although it would be nice to be out of these bulky things.

  “I'll take these off, but you’ll have to promise not to burn me.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him, “And what if I lie?”

  He looks at me steadily, “You don’t lie.”

  “Fine. I promise not to burn you. Although technology I don’t think I could if I tried. My magic likes you for some unfathomable reason.”

  He has the good grace to try and hide the smirk on his face as he looks down at my hands. He pulls a key out of his pocket and shows it to me, waiting for my approval.

  I nod and hold my wrists out to him, grimacing at the pain it causes in my arm.

  He frowns at me while he gently unlocks the cuff on my good arm. Then holds my hurt arm as carefully as possible while he turns the key in the lock. The vibrations of the lock clicking open have me gritting my teeth.

  I inspect my wrists and catch a glimpse of blood where the cuffs have rubbed the skin raw.

  I hold my hands out to him, waiting for him to click the new cuffs into place.

  “Why don’t you heal them?” He asks quietly. “Like you healed me.”

  “I don’t know how I did that. Healing you was more of an instinct than a skill. But even if I did know how, I can’t.” I avoid his gaze.

  The fact that I turned my back on my magic, makes me sick. I feel like a part of my soul is missing. But I know I had too. It would have destroyed me.

  “Why can’t you?" He asks me suspiciously.

  “It's really none of your business. Can you just put the cuffs on and leave already?” I thrust my wrists at him in frustration.

  “I’ll tell you what, Princess. If you tell me why you can’t heal yourself, I'll leave the cuffs off for a little while. I'll give you enough time to clean up and get healed.”

  “Why?” I ask reluctantly.

  “You healed me. It's only fair that I give you a chance to heal yourself too.”

  "Fine,” I growl. “I can’t heal myself because I turned it off. I turned all my magic off and I'm not turning it back on. Are you happy now?”

  His jaw drops as he stares at me in shock. “You what?”

  But I've already turned and I'm walking away. Back towards the bathing chamber and the warm soothing bath that’s calling to me.

  “Princess, wait! You need to explain this to me. How do you turn your magic off? And why would you want to?”

  I keep walking until I am standing in front of the bath again. Caspian walks up beside me and glares at me. “Explain,” He demands.

  “The only thing I want to do right now is take a bath. Get out.”

  “Make me,” He smiles the same lopsided grin from my memories, and I wanted to break his nose again.

  Well, I wish I wanted to break his nose. I want to hate him or feel anything at all. But I’m too exhausted to care. I just give him a shrug and drop the towel to the ground. I'm too exhausted to feel the embarrassment, but I'm sure it will come later.

  He freezes, staring at my face. I can see the mental struggle as he stands before me, trying not to look down. Honestly? I couldn't care less. I just spent six days in a prison cell. If I only have this opportunity to bathe, I'm not wasting it on him.

  I turn and carefully climb into the bathtub, using one hand to balance in the soapy water and trying my hardest not to topple headfirst over the side. A rough hand grabs my hip to steady me as I ease down into the hot water.

  “You could have at least called the servant girl back in here to assist you,” He growls at me as I settle into the tub. The water rises to my chin and the bubbles tickle my nose. It feels incredible and a moan slips out of my mouth.

  “Why would I do that when you’re such a great help, Caspian?” I try to sound annoyed with him, but nothing compares to the delicious feeling of soaking in the hot bath. Nothing can frustrate me right now.

  I hear him chuckle and crack open an eye to watch him stand over me. He's giving me that wicked smirk of his and warning bells go off in my head.

  “Well, Princess,” He says as he walks over to a cabinet and searches through it. He smells an oil, and after making a face, sticks it quickly back on the shelf. When he finds whatever it is, he's looking for, he stalks back over to me and sets several bottles onto a small table that is next to the bath. “If I’m going to be the only one here, I may as well be truly helpful.”

  He picks up an oil and without warning dumps it onto my head. The smell of eucalyptus and mint wash over me. Oddly soothing in this frustrating situation.

  “Don’t you dare,” I growl at him.

  “Do you think you can actually wash your own hair with one good arm? I saw the way you struggled to get into the bath. You’re weak and injured and the only way you’re going to be ready in time for the trials is if you have help. Now lay back and close your eyes. Pretend, for both of our sakes, that I’m not doing this. Because my men would never let me live it down if they knew about this.”

  I snicker at his embarrassment.

  I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid. I know I can’t do this alone and I have no way of calling for the servant girl now. I eventually relent and do as he asks.

  His fingers massage the oils into my hair slowly working over every corner and pulling in through to the ends.

  “For someone who claims to be new to this, you're actually doing a pretty good job,” I say grudgingly.

  He chuckles darkly. “Good, when I get fired because I’m washing my charge's hair, instead of guarding her, I might need a backup job.”
>
  I don’t speak again as he carefully rinses my hair out, only dumping the water in my face once. He chuckles as I sputter and cough on the water.

  “Sorry,” He laughs and doesn't sound sorry at all.

  I hold back my laughter until he leans over to look at my face, checking on my reaction. Taking my good arm, I splash bathwater all over him. Soaking him with a mixture of bubbles and water. He throws his head back and a deep laughter rumbles out of him, causing his shoulders to shake.

  A knot forms in my stomach as I watch him nearly fall out of his chair. A vision of what could have been flashing before me. If we had grown up together after all.

  He carefully comes beside the tub and offers me his hand, motioning towards my hurt arm, “Let me help.”

  I hesitate, “You did fine washing my hair, but I don’t think I trust you with a broken arm.”

  He sighs as he plunges his hand into the bathwater and gingerly pulls my hand out. “Princess, I have been dealing with broken bones since I was a kid. Although the men I usually treat aren’t as beautiful as you, I think I can manage it just fine.”

  I wince as he carefully takes a cloth and wipes off the layers of dirt caked onto my arm. Once the dirt is washed away, I can see the dark bruises and bright red splotches covering it. I wince and look away.

  No wonder it hurt so badly. That looks nasty.

  “This is going to hurt, but I need to inspect it.” He refuses to meet my eyes as he places a hand on my forearm and presses gently assessing the wound. A hiss comes out as I clamp my teeth together. Darkness flickers at the edges of my vision, but I'm able to hold myself together, barely.

  “You're handling this much better than when you fell out of that tree and broke your ankle.” He says as he adjusts my arm, causing another flare of pain. He gently starts cleaning the cuts around my wrists.

  I flashback to the memory. I was eight and I had talked a reluctant Caspian into racing to see who could climb up a large tree the fastest. I was about halfway up the towering tree when a limb snapped, hurtling me back down towards the ground. An eleven-year-old Caspian had reached his hand out to catch me, but unfortunately, that had caused both of us to fall out of the tree instead. I had broken my ankle and he pulled his shoulder out of place. Yet, he’d still managed to carry me back to the castle. Caspian had said he would stop being friends with me if I went near a tree ever again.

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with pain since then,” I mutter, trying to fight back the childish happiness that threatens to start blooming at the memory.

  “Have you been climbing more trees?” He groans playfully as he reaches back and carefully pulls my shoulders forward. Ignoring the look of reproach on my face as he begins washing my back.

  “Yes actually, very recently I fell out of an apple tree. It happened just last week, right after I was shot with an arrow and I was able to jump off a cliff just fine afterward,” I add breezily.

  His calming touch freezes as he meets my eyes. “Someone shot you?” He asks incredulously.

  I nod pointing at the scar on my shoulder, “Right before I watched my parents die.”

  His jaw tightens as he continues cleaning off my back, eyeing my scar occasionally.

  Hmm… I hit a nerve there.

  “I saw you jump off the cliff,” He says quietly. “It gave me nightmares for days afterward.”

  I find that hard to believe.

  “Why because you couldn’t deliver me to Maximus if I was dead?”

  He glares at me. Fury and something else flashing across his face.

  Enough. I fight off the feelings clawing at my stomach. He doesn’t get to come back and act like nothing has happened.

  “Why?” My voice cracks on that one word. “Why did you leave me?”

  Pain flashes across his face, “Your father offered me a job I couldn’t turn down.”

  “You left me for a job? A position in the military? That’s impossible. My Caspian never would have left me for a job.” The endearment slips from my mouth before I can stop it.

  “Well, I did.”

  I shake my head, “I don’t believe you. You loved me and you wouldn’t have left willingly.”

  I might not know the man before me, but I did know the boy I’d fallen for.

  “Adeline, I did love you more than I ever thought was possible. You gave me a home, a family, and a friend when I had nothing else. But it couldn’t stay like that forever. You had to grow up and marry royalty. I needed to find my own path and the offer your father presented was the easiest solution.”

  “So, you were terrified the girl you loved would marry someone else one day. So, you faked your death and ran away. Breaking my heart in the process. Now, nearly eight years later you think you can stroll in here and act like you didn’t betray me. Like your lies didn’t destroy me.” I laugh coldly as fury radiates through me.

  I know I should stop talking but I can’t make my heart listen. I need to get this off of my chest. “Would you like to know the worst part? I wanted to marry you. I loved you so much, I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. My engagement was broken off because I was still hung up on you seven years later. You were the only person I had ever loved… Until last week. Until I found someone that might actually love me too.” Tears burn as they fall down my cheeks and I glare into his blank face.

  He stares back at me, refusing to say anything at all.

  “I can take it from here, General. You’re dismissed.” Surprisingly, he listens to my command. Standing he carefully places a towel on his seat, making sure it's within my reach. Then walks silently out of the bathing chamber, closing the door behind him.

  I ignore how empty the room feels without him in it and start scrubbing the rest of my body furiously. I can feel the heartbreak and emotional pain radiating off me, so I scrub my skin until it's raw. Hoping I can somehow scrub the pain away as well as the dirt.

  Finally, when I am as clean as I can manage, and my skin is raw and tender. I carefully climb out of the bath and dry myself off. Looking around the room, I find clothes set out on a dressing table. Walking over to it, I gratefully praise the servant girl for laying them out. The pants look easy enough to put on. They are the usual wide-legged style I prefer. I pull on a pair of underwear, then slip my feet into the pants and pull them on.

  Wearily, I eye the corset undergarment. It is beautifully designed with a black silky fabric that lines the bodice and edged with a black lace that will wrap around my waist. The cording in the back will be troublesome though.

  I could send Caspian to collect the servant girl… But I really don’t want to ask him for help with anything else.

  I carefully slide the strap of the undergarment over my hurt arm and settle it into place. Then I do the same for my good arm. As I pull it up over my head, my arm protests and a high-pitched scream tears itself from my lunges. My eyes water as the pain washes through me and I slide to the ground.

  The door bursts open and Caspian rushes in. Finding me on the ground, he lets out a slew of curses, slams the door closed behind him, and he crouches down beside me. Meeting my eyes, he growls at me, “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

  “Because I don’t want your help. I want to hate you,” I spit at him.

  He stares at me in fury. “Well, then pay attention, Princess. It’ll be easy to hate me, I’m a monster.”

  Thankfully, I was able to get the corset on well enough to cover everything of importance. He reaches a hand out for my good arm and helps me up. Turning me, he tugs on the laces of my corset, tightening them, and ties them off. “The healer is here. Where‘s your shirt?”

  Frustration slams through me and I turn around to glare up at him. “Caspian, I can't handle your mood swings anymore. You're either my friend or my enemy. You can't be both, now which will you choose?"

  He stares at me for a moment and I can see his mental struggle. "I can't be your friend, Adeline. It's not that simple."

  H
umiliated, hating him, and mainly hating the way my heart cracks even further with his admission. I refuse to look him in the eye. "Very well. You can go now.”

  “I guess some things never change. You’re still a stubborn, pain in the ass.” He storms out of the room.

  I glance at the shirt and know there is no chance I can put it on without passing out.

  The healer is here. She can heal me and then I can put the shirt on. I grab the shirt and walk out the door, not bothering to stop at the mirror to check my reflection. I am past caring at this point.

  My steps falter slightly as I see the scene carrying on in my bedroom. Caspian is standing with his back to me while talking to a man with blue hair. The general’s hands are up in the air waving in frustration.

  Well, at least it’s not just me he’s yelling at today.

  The man with blue hair spots me and his voice wavers mid-sentence. A blush creeps into his cheeks as he looks at me and gives a deep bow, “Your Royal Highness.”

  Caspian turns to me and if I’d thought he was mad before, one look at me with only my corset on has him seething. He stalks over to me, putting his body directly in between myself and the man with the blue hair.

  “Where is your shirt?” He hisses.

  I hold it up and shrug, wincing slightly, “I couldn’t get it on, I figured the healer could heal me, then I could put it on with far less pain.”

  His eyes narrow at the white fabric in my hand and he snatches it out of my grasp. “Go back in there and I’ll help you get dressed. He is not putting his hands on you when you're barely clothed.”

  I furrow my brows at him, “He’s the healer?”

  Caspian nods and I roll my eyes at him. “He’s a HEALER. I’m sure I’m not the first woman he’s healed.” I step to the side and look at the man as he stands awkwardly by the bed. “You’ve healed women before, right?”

  He laughs at my brashness. “Yes, Ma’am. Lots of times. I’ve never healed a Princess before though, so that’ll be a new one.”