Vengeful Prince

by Mary E. Twomey

  Fiora’s eyes flick to me. Actually, she and I both know that it’s my choice, and I’ve already made it. I nod to her, and she smacks her lips—a thing she does before she draws a curse, poison or a disease from someone. We’ve done this hundreds of times, but she gets that same sad expression whenever I give my consent. The corners of her mouth turn downward after I nod.

  Poison doesn’t just vanish. That’s not a thing. People put too much faith in magic without bothering to understand how it all works. There’s a system that must be respected for magic to be useful. Otherwise, it can do more harm than good. Once drawn out, the poison has to go somewhere, and the more deadly poisons have to go into someone, otherwise they can become airborne. Since I can only produce poisonous plants, toxins can live in me without lasting effects while my body figures out how to deal with them. It’s my gift to the world, wrapped up in my biggest sin.

  Still, if this is what fate requires of me, I will give it. I always do. Atoning for my many crimes is important to me, and I do so one healing at a time. Though I’ve healed far more than I’ve murdered, it still doesn’t seem like it’s enough. This gaping hole in my soul has never managed to stitch itself back together with any real sense of permanence. I still see their innocent blue eyes—open without seeing, and their delicate mouths—lolled with no sound. Thirty children in tiny desks all around me, surrounded by white petals I’d thought were pretty.

  Ronin assumes the choice is up to him, whether he gets treated or not, and I let him keep that false belief, because he needs to feel in control of something. “Very well. As Drexdenberg needs me at my best, let’s get this over with.” Ronin meets my eyes as he removes his suit jacket, hands it to me and rolls up the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt. “You trust this woman, darling?”

  “She’s my mother,” I reply, my chin raised.

  “Where I come from, that doesn’t mean a whole lot. Do you trust her?”

  I can see Ronin’s fear clearly as he eyes the mattress. I take a chance and touch his wrist. “You don’t have to do anything. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go back and give finding a new vampire healer a try.”

  Fiora scoffs. “His brain will be addled by then. Ye know tha.”

  I do, but again, Ronin needs the illusion of choice.

  Untold concern bubbles up in Ronin’s golden gaze. “I saw the family healer last month, and the month before that. Clare didn’t mention anything about the possibility of me being poisoned.” Then he forces a wan smile. “I’m not sure which is worse—that she didn’t know, or that she knew and didn’t tell me.”

  I chew on my lower lip. “I suppose we’ll have to deal with that when we get back to your castle.”

  “Ours,” Des speaks up from behind Ronin. “You live there now, so it’s yours as well. Our castle.”

  I swallow that nugget down to see how it settles, but that too needs to be shoveled into the pile of things to examine later. “Lay down, Ronin. I’ll be right here the whole time.” I don’t know why I know that’s the right thing to say, but it seems to tip him in favor of trusting Fiora.

  Because he trusts me—this fae trickster who’s come in to shake up his territory without permission.

  Ronin’s face pulls as he kneels atop the mattress. “Oh, this is dreadful. Did someone die on this? It’s stained.”

  My mouth tightens, but Fiora comes to my aid. “Tha’s my Lilya’s bed. It’s all we can afford. Not much money to be made in Neutral Territory.”

  Ronin touches his forehead as privileged self-loathing radiates off of him. “Apologies. It’s a lovely mattress.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just admit you’re a spoiled Territorial.” I get Ronin situated, noting how very odd he looks on my mattress that’s about three inches too short for his taller frame.

  “Boil some water, sweetie. Prince Alexavier, take the king’s arms and pin them down.”

  “What are you going to do?” Des asks while Lexi obeys.

  “I’m not going to hurt him, if tha’s what you’re worried about. But the poison will when it seeps out of him. Quick now.”

  I bring Fiora’s chair to the spot above Ronin’s head and help her sit. She starts her murmuring that I’ve never been able to recreate, and a shiver rolls through all of us at the same time. It’s an old shifter remedy, but Fiora has such a handle on it that even other shifters come to her when they’re up a creek. “Most shifters can only draw out layers of the poison one at a time, but Fiora can yank it out by the root,” I explain when Des shoots me a worried look.

  It’s a matter of seconds before Ronin starts grunting through gritted teeth. Though she hasn’t laid a finger on him, she’s drawing out the poison from the recesses of his mind.

  After five minutes, Ronin’s howling in agony.

  At ten, a seizure takes him over.

  “Stop her!” Des cries, his eyes wild.

  “Almost finished,” I explain without telling him the part that’s still to come. I know what Fiora’s about to do. Even before she raises her hand in my direction, I’m already moving toward her.

  Memories of too many people stretched out on my mattress flood my mind. She drew the poison or sickness out of them and put it into me. Something about my body or blood or whatever could fight off the illness better than they could. In the patient, it would carry them to the brink of death, but when the toxin, curse or disease was transferred to me, it wouldn’t last more than a day, and it then would be gone.

  I hate this part. It’s going to hurt. A month ago, no way would a vampire have given me a second look if I was the one being poisoned. But I’m not them. I’m me. And I have to answer to me for how big or small I allow my heart to become.

  I don’t want my love to be small. I don’t want my love to mean nothing, to change nothing. Magic is what you make of it, so I choose to take my knack for handling poisons and use it to heal my corner of the world as best I can.

  I kneel next to Des, who’s helping Lexi hold Ronin’s arms down while he seizes. “Okay, Fiora,” I nod while they roll Ronin onto his side, so he doesn’t swallow his tongue. “Go ahead.”

  I don’t have more than two breaths before a blackness seeps out of Ronin’s mouth and beelines straight into me, knocking me over with the force of it. Des howls his fright and Lexi shouts for Fiora to intervene with the foreign element.

  I hate this part.

  28

  The Fate we Fear

  Destino

  I’ve never seen great-grandfather like that. Even as we ride home with Alex beside me while I drive the covered carriage, he’s been too weak to do more than lift his head. “He looks worse than he did before we brought him here!” I whisper to Alex, handing him a sandwich, food and water I bought from the first store I found once we crossed over into Drexdenberg by moonlight. “How sure are you that he’s actually getting better?”

  Alex wipes the sweat from his brow as we bounce along on the wooden driver’s bench under the light of the rising moon. “I have no idea. Putting his poison into Lily? I didn’t even know that was a thing! She knew.”

  “Fiora? Yes, that was no accident.”

  Alex shakes his head. “Not Fiora, Lily! She knew. She should’ve told us this was her plan. Her hair is black! The poison fog or whatever shot into her and turned her hair black. I… you cannot dye fae hair. Color won’t stick to the strands. I don’t understand this. Lily lied.” His fist tightens, and I know he’s picturing the ghastly sight that’s still plaguing me. Neither of us were prepared for her lavender locks to tint and then turn to midnight. She’s completely passed out, lying limp on the floor of the coach beside King Ronin, who’s only managed to stir twice before losing consciousness again. “She brought us here without telling us her plan, and now we’ve got two poisoned people on our hands. It’s not going to go over well when we leave with what looks like a perfectly healthy king accompanied by two fae, and bring back a king who looks on the verge of death.”

  I always find it funny when fae get thei
r feathers ruffled when they’re lied to by other fae. “Do you really think we would’ve gone along with her plan if we knew she was going to take King Ronin’s poison into herself?”

  “No, but…”

  I run my tongue along my top row of teeth. “I don’t care about her dealing in half-truths. She barely knows us. I care that we get more fluids into them both. That’s what Fiora told us to do, so that’s what we’re sticking with.”

  The night isn’t bustling yet, since the sun’s only been set for an hour or two. We bump along on the dirt road, largely unnoticed by Drexdenberg. I catch the bags under Alex’s eyes, and I know a small portion of his frustration is fueled by intermittent sleeplessness. We were both too anxious to rest while Lily’s been passed out and King Ronin’s been waking up in short bursts only to groan.

  “You’re sure sending word to Salem through his border guard was the way to go? Seems like a gamble as to whether or not the message will get delivered.”

  I shrug, trying to feel the bravery I’m displaying. Alex worries more thoroughly than I do, and I don’t want him to tailspin. He needs me to stay level-headed, even if there are plenty of good reasons to panic. “It’s the best we can do. If his guard is worth anything, Salem will most likely beat us to the castle, going as slow as we are.”

  Alex grinds the knuckles of his right hand into his forehead. He’s driven all day, and I’ve taken the night shift, but it feels like we’re positively crawling, given how slow we’re taking the road. “We can’t go any faster. Every bump in the road hurts them.” His nostrils flare with frustration, and he points at me, as if I’m the problem in all of this. “This Fiora person, when Salem catches up with us, I want to know what she did to land herself in Neutral Territory. Maybe he has access to that information, since she’s a shifter and all.” Then he tears into his sandwich, his eyes casting scared glances over his shoulder when Lily moans softly, the sound carrying through the window.

  I peek into the carriage through the small opening behind where I sit, and see she’s shivering, holding herself while her teeth chatter. “Oh, my cloak fell off of her. Hold on.” I stop the carriage and duck inside, my stomach turning at the sight of my great-grandfather’s hand cupping the swell of her hip. He’s unconscious, so I can’t be cross, but I also don’t have to like it. I remove his hand and spread the edge of my black cloak around her form. When I kiss her forehead, she’s hot to the touch, her body working overtime to burn the poison out of her. Her hair is still black, making her pale skin appear ghostly, like she’s on the brink of crossing over into the clouds.

  “No, you can’t cover her. We need to bring her temperature down. The king, too.” Alex dips his head in and flips the cloak off her and presses his perpetually icy hands to her forehead and the back of her neck.

  I shove the rest of the food onto the seat, unable to shake the sight of King Ronin and my wife cuddled together on the floor. “Whatever. I don’t know how to take care of a sick fae.”

  Alex cuffs my wrist. “You need to learn. She’s your wife now. And I get the feeling she does this kind of thing more often than she should—healing people at great cost to her own health. When she’s got a high fever, you have to try to bring it down. Cold compress. Lots of water.”

  I swallow as I take in the scope of what Alex is trying to teach me. It’s one thing to have a partner by my side while we try to tear apart a corrupt system, but it’s dawning on me now that she’s an actual person with real vulnerabilities. She trusts me, and I let her throw herself into a dangerous situation because she wanted to save my family.

  That’s love.

  I listen to Alex tell me about taking care of fae who fall ill, making mental notes and watching her breathe. I can’t explain it, but seeing her lungs fill gives me peace I wish I always had. To know one of us is breathing matters to me. It gives me hope that one day, I’ll breathe without this pressure around my ribs that threatens to suffocate all that I am and snuff out all that I want.

  She’s tiny. So dainty and slender that I worry the crown will be too much.

  King Ronin will be fine, the rotten bastard. I hate that I know he’ll be alright, but I can’t say the same about my own wife.

  I can’t watch them on the floor together anymore. I excuse myself and go back to driving the carriage, leaving Alex to watch over the two ailing passengers. I keep a slower pace than I’m comfortable with, but I know every groan of Lily’s pain when I skip over a root in the road sets Alex’s teeth on edge.

  It’s three hours before the dawn when I finally pull us onto the castle grounds. I wave off the offers from the stable hands, knowing they’d just as soon not be near Alex or the mystery fairy woman they’ve all been keen to avoid.

  When the carriage door pops open, King Ronin steps out, looking only slightly disheveled. It’s a vast improvement, to be sure, but he’s always so very put together and polished that the sweat on his brow, his sickly pallor and his heavier breathing I’m positive won’t go unnoticed by the staff.

  “Straight to my room,” I insist, checking over my shoulder as Alex steps out with Lily in his arms. She’s completely covered in his cloak, her dangling black curls the only sign of her.

  “Careful with her,” King Ronin insists. He’s protective of her body, unwilling to be more than a couple feet away from her.

  I want to ask about her health, but Alex’s grave expression turns my stomach. “Let’s go,” he says, following King Ronin in through the side entrance, down several hallways and up the stairs.

  The moment Alex lays her on my bed, I lock my door, breathing a gust of relief that at least we got her home. I wish Clare was here, and still can’t believe she’s gone. As much as a woman has ever been a mum to me, Clare has filled that role. My wife is sick, and I don’t know what to do. Even if Clare has no clue either, it feels wrong that she’s not here. That I’ve disappointed her so much by getting married.

  Alex is unwrapping Lily from the cloak, cooling her forehead with his cold fingers and motioning for King Ronin to grab a pitcher of water. I’m staring like a useless wanker, wishing I knew more about taking care of fae when they fall ill. “How can I help?” I muster, though Alex looks like he wants nothing to do with any offer of assistance. It’s odd, this connection he has with her. I suppose it’s no stranger than mine, but the way he takes in her vitals, calculating while touching her more gently than I’ve ever seen him stroke a woman, makes me happy he’s finally found someone who’s worth him learning how to take things seriously.

  “Easy,” King Ronin cautions Alex. His voice is gentle, almost affectionate. Like they’ve gone through a war together. I wonder what catastrophes I missed by being the driver, leaving them to deal with the worst of it in the confines of the carriage.

  I want to tell my great-grandfather to back up, but when he unfolds her hair from the hood of the cloak, my heart leaps that it’s more than halfway returned to its usual lavender. Only the tips are black, and seem to be a measure for the poison leaving her system. When I step closer, I see that her breathing is less ragged, she doesn’t seem to be in pain, and her lashes open on occasion to take in the room before closing intermittently.

  When King Ronin starts to run a cool cloth over her arm, Alex snatches it from him with a hard warning in his scowl. We all understand the sentiment: she belongs to us, not him. “She wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you.”

  King Ronin doesn’t speak in his defense, as he’s not accustomed to the fae prince lecturing him so candidly. Instead King Ronin pulls a chair to her bedside, keeping his hands to himself while we do our best to cool her down. Though he’s been ill on the floor of a carriage for too many hours to count, he crosses his right leg over his left knee, folding his hands atop and looking like a proper gentleman.

  It’s not ten minutes before the door bursts open and Salem stomps in. He doesn’t bother speaking, but shoves us all out of the way, his eyes widening at the woman who can’t lift her head, and has fallen back a
sleep.

  Alex explains the mishap in short sentences, doing what he can to calm Salem down while I wash Lily’s arms with a cool rag.

  “Tha doesn’t make any sense. The closest thing we have is an old charm tha’s too dangerous to use.”

  Alex touches his nose. “That’s the one Fiora used.”

  Salem shakes his head. “No. It can’t take poison from one person and put it into another. It just hits the air and spreads, which is why no one ever uses it.”

  Alex shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but that’s what happened. Fiora promised Lily would be fine. Made it sound like they do this kind of thing all the time. The crone drew a black puff of smoke from King Ronin, and it darted into Lily, and made her too sick to lift her head. Her hair was completely black after that, but now it looks like it’s almost back to normal. That’s got to be a good sign.”

  Watching Salem’s hand as it reaches and then retracts, reaches and retracts before it lands on her cheek tells me just how taken he is with her. He wipes his dirt-crusted hand off on his jeans before he touches her clammy forehead.

  I don’t expect King Ronin to jump into his daft plan, especially when I was certain it was the poison talking, and not logic. “Prince Salem, perhaps I should catch you up on the recent developments. I know about the plan the four of you concocted, how it is Destino landed himself a fairy wife. I agree with you boys, that keeping the territories divided is a mistake we can’t afford to abide much longer. Lilya’s marriage to Destino will be made public, but then I’ll perform her marriage to Alexavier. That way she’ll have two husbands, and she’ll stand to inherit two thrones.”