“Don’t play dumb,” Trish hisses past pretty, plump lips. “You’re the Fae’s pet. We want to know why.”
I shake my head, careful to maintain my uninterested expression. “I’m no one’s pet.”
“Then why do you have your own personal trainer.”
I shrug.
Jordan speaks up, “Sera just got here. The rest of us have the advantage. Maybe the Fae actually want this contest to be a fair fight.”
Trish chuckles derisively. Her cronies join in.
“Yeah, right. Fae don’t give a rat’s ass about fair, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”
I can’t deny Trish has a point, but it’s not in my interest to agree.
Again, I shrug. “Look, I don’t know why I’m getting extra help, but I’m not exactly upset about it. Like Jordan said, you all have an advantage on me. You don’t know me, but I’m pretty competitive, and I won’t refuse help just because it makes some people mad.” I’m proud how level my voice sounds. I see Trish’s buddies exchange a look. They probably expected me to cower out of fear or something. Not a chance.
I get the feeling my forgotten loved ones would consider me stubborn.
“Well, let’s just see how far that competitiveness gets you.” Trish leans forward, getting within six inches of my face. I refuse to lean back. I refuse to let her know how much she unnerves me.
“You’ve got a target on your back, Sera,” she spits my name. “It’s only a matter of time before one of us hits the bullseye.” With that, Trish pushes away from the table and leaves. Her minions follow.
I pick up my fork and resume eating, but the food has lost its flavor.
“Don’t worry about them,” Jordan tells me, chomping on a raw carrot as she glares at the trio’s retreating figures. “They won’t touch you, especially not when you’re the Fae’s favorite.”
“I’m no one’s favorite.”
“Hey, I’m not judging.” She holds her hands up, a carrot pressed between her thumb and forefinger. “Being a favorite has its perks, like one-on-one training. Speaking of which, I think someone is here to see you.”
I follow her gaze to the door and groan when I see Frederick. He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed. The sun has set, and it’s obvious he doesn’t appreciate my lack of punctuality. I’d totally forgotten about his spontaneous order to meet him for an evening run. Morty had really killed us this afternoon.
I force myself to stand, resigned to my fate. I don’t want Frederick to cause a scene, and I have no doubt he will do just that if I keep him waiting any longer.
Mumbling my goodbye to Jordan, I take my plate, shoveling a few more forkfuls in my mouth, before disposing of it in the waste bin.
With a mouth full of food, I approach the frowning Fae, turning so my body doesn’t brush against him as I walk outside. Gravel crunches under his boots as he follows me across the path connecting the cafeteria to the barracks. I turn to walk towards the well-worn path surrounding the barracks and nearby building, where contestants always run, but Frederick stops me with a light touch on my elbow.
“This way.” He steps in front of me and takes the lead, walking towards the stables.
My pulse spikes with panic. “W-we aren’t riding horses, are we?”
Frederick stops and smirks over his shoulder. “Are you scared of horses?”
“No.” The truth is, I’m terrified. The massive beasts look strong. I picture myself being thrown off and trampled by them should I ever try to ride one.
Frederick’s smirk reveals he doesn’t buy the one-word answer, but he’s gracious enough to put me out of my misery. “No, we aren’t riding horses, but the path we need to take is on the East side of the castle. This is the quickest way.”
“Oh.” I try to picture what path he is leading me to, but I only remember the castle wall on the other side of the stables. The wall—and the dense forest beyond its borders.
We pass the stables and, sure enough, Frederick walks towards the castle wall. I tell myself to remain calm. No way is Frederick going to take me into the eerie forest at night. I’ve heard the growls and angry cries coming from the green depths each evening, and sometimes even during the day. Monsters live in the Seelie forest. Jordan’s confirmed it. I’d been lucky I didn’t encounter any when I tried to escape.
I keep silent until the outline of a door appears in the sturdy stone. Frederick places his palm over its surface. His fingers glow, and the color seeps into the door right before it swings open.
“What did you do?”
“Open a door.”
It’s dark, but I know the Fae will see me if I roll my eyes. I resist the urge to do it anyway. “Obviously. But what was that glowing thing?”
“The door is spelled to only open for me and Prince Camden.”
“Really?” Why would the prince have a secret way to leave the castle?
“Really.” Frederick steps through the door and motions me to follow. “Now, come. We’re late.” He picks up the pace, and I have no choice but to follow him or risk being left alone in the freaky forest.
Darkness magnifies distant howls and animalistic screeches all around us. I’m practically stepping on Frederick’s heels. I miss the pleasant forests in my home state of Connecticut—one of the few memories which had returned to me while I trained in Seelie. I thought it was a sign the rest of my memories were due to return at any moment, but I haven’t had a new revelation since.
I jump when a leaf brushes against my forearm. I never once feared something leaping out of the trees and eating me alive in Connecticut, but that fear is very real here in Seelie.
We must walk for at least ten minutes when we finally reach a small clearing. Frederick keeps walking until we stand at the edge of a pond. Moonlight glimmers off the water. I look around, trying to figure out why Frederick brought me here.
Suddenly, a new fear grips me.
I take several steps back, trying to be as quiet as possible, but my ungraceful feet find a twig and loudly snap it in half.
Frederick, scanning the area as well, asks, “What are you doing?”
“Uh. Nothing.” Definitely not trying to run away before you have the chance to murder me. This far away from the castle, no one will be able to hear my screams.
Why hadn’t I considered Frederick might be an enemy? Am I really so weak that even the smallest act of kindness from a Fae makes me want to trust them? He’d just carried me to a healer. He’s Fae for crying out loud. His queen ordered me stolen me from my home. I shouldn’t trust any Fae. Not a single one.
Brush rustles and another figure steps out of the trees. I’m ready to leap into a full sprint, my legs bent and primed for release, when Frederick’s greeting stops me. “Your Highness. Apologies for our tardiness.”
The prince?
I abandon my plan to run and look between the Fae. What the heck is happening here?
“Our?” The prince repeats, and I feel the weight of his stare when it lands on me. My eyes haven’t totally adjusted to the dark, but the moonlight lets me see his eyes scan me from head to toe. “Why is she here?”
So I wasn’t invited… awesome.
I cross my arms and look away from his unsettling gaze. “What am I doing here, Rick?”
Again, I’m disappointed when the guard doesn’t react to my creative nickname. He answers the prince.
“The contest begins soon. This one needs more training.”
“That’s why I instructed Morty to help her,” the prince replies, confirming my suspicion he’s responsible for the sentry’s extra attention. “And that is why you regularly observe the training yard and monitor her progress.”
Frederick takes a page out of my book and crosses his arms. Unlike me, his bulging arm muscles and stoic features render him formidable. Not that the prince seems to notice.
A quick glance at the royal reveals he’s almost as brawny as his personal guard, but with two extra inches of height, he’s slightly leaner. I thi
nk his physique would actually give him an advantage over the guard in a fight. Whenever Jordan and I spar, the only thing I’m good at is ducking and dipping to avoid impending blows. She’s not that much bigger than me, but my smaller size definitely gives me an edge. Morty’s been teaching me how to take advantage of that skill in every situation.
“As you say, I monitor Serafina’s progress, and it is far from where it needs to be if she is to survive the contest. You instructed me to minimize impending casualties, and that is what I’m trying to do.”
Two things stand out.
For one, the prince is trying to minimize casualties. As in, deaths?
Contestants might actually die doing whatever the hell the Fae are training us for? Frederick is trying to help me survive?
And two, how in the hell does he know my full name?
The prince joins the club and crosses his arms across his chest. I notice he wears a billowing tunic with the sleeves rolled up, and his pants aren’t made of the rigid material I normally see Fae wear. He looks dressed to work out. Just like me and Rick.
“I understand your reasoning, but you shouldn’t have brought her here. It’s too dangerous.” Something tells me the danger he’s worried about isn’t hiding in the dark, ominous forest.
I clear my throat. “Look. It’s not a big deal. I don’t want to be here anyway. How about Rick takes me back, and then you guys can do… whatever it is you do out here.” The sooner I’m back in the safe familiarity of the barracks, the better.
I feel the prince’s lingering gaze. “Why does she call you Rick?”
“She seems to find it humorous.” Frederick’s tone is less than amused.
I fight the urge to smile. So, the name does bother him. One point to me.
“It suits you.”
I can’t hold back my bark of laughter. Quickly, I try to smother the sound with my hand, but it’s too late. Frederick eyes me with slight irritation, while the prince smiles wide.
Crap. He’s even more handsome when he smiles.
Get a grip, Sera.
I shake my head, clearing away any pleasant thoughts of the Fae whose people are responsible for my abduction. We aren’t, nor will we ever be, friends.
The smile fades from his lips when he sees my amusement disappear, replaced with contempt. His attention returns to his guard. “You say she is not prepared.”
“Not by half a league.”
“Hey, I’m doing my best.” I won’t stand here and listen to them talk about me like I’m some weakling. I almost snap and tell the imposing Fae I don’t need their help, and I can figure out this mess on my own. But that would just be stupid. If serious injuries and possible death are on the table with this contest, I’m not stubborn or dumb enough to turn away their help.
“She can stay,” the prince still speaks to Frederick. “Let’s go.” With that, he takes off into the trees.
Before I can ask where he’s going, Frederick grabs my elbow and propels me forward, placing me in front of him. “Follow His Highness.”
Ugh. What can I do? It looks like I’m bound for another workout.
Careful to pick up my feet, I follow the prince’s path into the wild forest. I’m only mildly scared of the monsters within. Frederick keeps pace close behind me. I figure if they wanted to kill me, they would’ve done it by now. I should be able to rely on him to help if any rogue creatures decide I look like a tasty snack.
Moonlight breaks through the tree tops every once in a while. The prince’s blond head bobs in and out of view as he winds through the trees. I’m grateful he leads the way. The ground is not as unlevel as I’d feared, and I suspect he is finding and taking the easiest path through the forest.
A thin sheen of sweat covers my forehead. During the day, I have no doubt I’d be sweating like a pig, but the cooler night air takes most of the heat off the run. Still, my legs and abdomen flex and extend as I run, and I feel their soreness from days of training. Not to mention, the extra muscles I use to pivot my direction and follow the prince’s winding lead are screaming for a break. But I don’t stop. All I can think about is I might die in the Fae Realm. Even if I can’t remember their names, I know I had a family. The feeling of love and support still remains in my memory, and I know they will miss me if I never return. I need to survive the contest, and I need to find a way to escape.
A growl reverberates through the air, sounding too close for comfort. Frederick places a firm hand on my shoulder and guides me to the left. We keep running, and the ominous sound fades into the background.
I don’t know how long we run. It might be twenty minutes, or possibly an hour. My determination to not let my life end here keeps my muscles moving, and my racing thoughts make me lose track of time. Eventually, we arrive back at the edge of the pond. I wouldn’t be able to repeat the prince’s circular route even on the sunniest day. It’d been convoluted and complicated.
When the prince stops, I follow suit. Adrenaline dissolves in my blood, and I fall onto my knees, then lay on my stomach in the wild grass surrounding the pond.
I gasp for breath and cringe when I feel a stitch in my side. I roll onto my back, throw my hands above my head, and continue to breathe deep. The pain doesn’t go away.
A shadow covers the moon. I focus on the prince’s face. “You will recover better if you stand.”
My legs feel like jelly. I don’t know if they will be able to hold my weight. I try to get up, determined to not appear weak. Pushing of the ground, I immediately begin to sway. I am close to falling back when the prince grabs hold of my arm and helps guide me the rest of the way up. “Put your hands here.” He guides both of my wrists until they rest on my head, opening up my chest cavity. “Now, breathe.”
He lets go of my arms, but he doesn’t step away, ready to catch me should my legs buckle.
I focus on catching my breath, inhaling slowly. The painful stitch diminishes until I don’t feel any discomfort. My legs are shaky, but their strength gradually returns. I keep my arms above my head until the last wave of dizziness passes.
“Thank you.” I drop my arms. They hang limply by my sides.
“You did better than I expected.” Again, the prince looks me over. I’m not sure what to make of his thoughtful expression. I’m not sure what to make of him at all. He hadn’t helped me escape, but he sends his guard to ensure the safety of the captured contestants. What’s going on behind those bright green eyes?
“Thanks.”
“We should return before we are missed.” Frederick interrupts, stepping forward and placing himself slightly between me and the prince. “Your Highness?”
The prince is still staring at me. It’s the same way he looked at me when he found me running through the forest that first day. He’d been stunned I hadn’t known who he was. Perhaps he even looked a little intrigued.
I don’t know what it is about me which has drawn his attention, but I can’t say I’m too upset about it. Especially not if it gives me a greater chance at survival. I decide to play nice.
Do I resent the fact I’m forced to compete in a mysterious contest where it seems I’m likely to hurt or even kill myself?
Duh.
But am I in a condition to insult the prince by refusing any morsel of help he tosses my way?
Definitely not.
“Thank you for letting me join your private run, Your Highness.” I dip my head, trying to convey my genuine appreciation and keep a valued ally on my side. “I’m sure you prefer the solitude after spending your entire day in the spotlight.” I don’t know how the prince usually spends his days, but I’m sure he rarely gets a moment to himself. I think back to the royal families in the human world and all the tabloids featuring dozens of stories about them. The prince might not be subject to a paparazzi, but that doesn’t mean someone isn’t watching his every move.
Unnamable emotion swirls in his eyes. I can’t begin to decipher it.
“May I make a request?”
I’m
taken aback. The prince’s stunning irises are pinned on me. It’s like he’s trying to peer right into my mind. I’m wary of his request, but I remind myself to play nice.
“Of course, Your Highness… anything.” Why I added the last part, I have no idea. The word itself isn’t that bad, but the breathlessness in my voice definitely implies something I had no intention of implying.
I blame the run. I’m still not completely recovered, and the surprise of his question throws me.
A flash of heat flares in his eyes, but it’s tampered down. “I request you call me Camden when we are alone.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it definitely wasn’t that.
“Your Highness,” Frederick blows a breath, “That is highly improper.”
I agree. Besides, we aren’t friends. I will be respectful, but never friendly.
“It is only improper in the presence of others. Here, I would like to forgo titles and simply be known as Camden.” The prince looks back at me, and I see a hint of insecurity behind his confident expression.
Frederick doesn’t argue again. I don’t know if it’s because he’s swayed by the prince’s words, or if he simply doesn’t argue with his boss.
I sigh. Do I have any choice?
“Of course.” Again, I tilt my head. “Thank you, Camden.”
His answering smile is bright enough to blind me, and I’m acutely aware of the way it makes my heart thump and my stomach clench.
Oh boy… This can’t be good.
10
“OW! Easy with the needle there, Patricia. I get enough injuries training in the yard. I don’t need to be poked like a pin cushion.”
I bite my cheek to contain my chuckle. Jordan stands on a boxed crate, covered in patches of silky blue fabric, standing in front of a tall, dusty mirror. She’s red in the face and fidgeting, hating every moment of the fitting, throwing a tantrum like a toddler. The notoriously tough and clever Jordan acts like standing still while she’s fitted for a gown is torture. I find the entire situation hilarious.
“Stop moving, and I won’t poke you,” Patricia, one of the castle seamstresses, huffs and continues to pin the skirt, fitting the fabric around Jordan’s curvy hips.
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