by Brindi Quinn
“Here you are,” said the steward who was leading us to our lodgings. I noticed then that the knife in his belt had an abnormal glow to it. Another metal enchanter like Rafe? When he saw me staring, he swooped his cloak to conceal the weapon before gesturing to a pair of heavy doors at the end of the fourth-floor hall. “This room for the Queen of the Crag. And this for her guards.”
Rafe seized the opportunity to hide his emotions. With a hasty bow of his head, and before I could get a better look at him, he turned his back on us and disappeared into the guards’ quarters.
Peculiar behavior from him yet again.
Windley turned to follow, swinging his satchel of goods into the room behind Rafe.
Ha. Like I would allow that to happen.
“Not so fast.” I took him by the hood. “You have some explaining to do.”
Chapter 8
Hidden Talents
I wouldn’t give Windley a chance to hide as Rafe had. I filed the mischievous guard into my chamber, which was unexpectedly pleasant and looked to have not yet been corrupted by Sestilia’s influence. Instead, the room was bright and inviting with tasteful fabrics and mahogany furniture. This, I was glad for, having assumed I would spend the night in a velvet-clad oubliette.
“What do you want with me, lion queen?” Windley folded his arms and leaned against the wall.
Before we go further, I think it’s probably best I tell you a little more about Windley’s and my relationship. Now, I’ve talked a fair deal about that, but as I mentioned at the beginning, you’re getting the oversharing Merrin version of this story, so hold tight.
Windley was kind of the best. Of course, I was always most excited to see Beau during our trips to the woodland fortress, but Windley was a not-so-far second. He was a flirt, exceptional at banter, and allowed me to be uncompromisingly myself all the time. After behaving stately most of my days, being in the presence of Beau, Windley and Albie helped keep me sane. It allowed me to know my truest self, outside of rank and duty, and that was something I held dear.
Over the years, I had come to know that Windley intentionally shielded his past from plain sight, and I had never cared enough to meddle; I simply enjoyed the version of him I knew in all of its patronizing glory. After all, there are things about myself I may not even tell you, captive ones.
Will all of this said, still I found myself faced with a growing desire to steal a glance into the unseen side of him. It had started when he said he was from south-ish. It grew at the Captain’s reaction to seeing him. It swelled at Sestilia’s.
“Firstly: Spirite. What does it mean?”
I noticed him rub the blackstone ring on his middle finger. “Firstly, why do you care?” he said.
“I’m curious! Okay? You’ve never offered anything about yourself, and now I’m getting snippets, and I just desire to know more about he who hails from the land of giant skeletons and queen-less lands. I could command it out of you, you know,” I said wryly.
“But would I obey, is the question,” he said, ever naughty. The less-than-human guard straightened from the wall and further fiddled with his ring, pretending to take great interest in the room’s marina-themed décor.
“Oh, come on, Windley. Is there a reason you don’t want me to know?”
“Not necessarily,” he said, slowly and strangely earnest, “but what if you don’t like what you hear? Then what?”
“Then so what.” I shrugged and settled onto the edge of the guest chamber’s bed. Adequately plush, it would surely make for a restful night’s sleep.
“Would your opinion of me change, I wonder?”
I mustered my most evil smile. “Not like I have a great opinion of you now.”
He simpered, but at the same time, he appeared uncertain of himself, which was something of a phenomenon coming from him. I was beginning to feel like a bully for trying to coerce him.
“Very well.” I kicked myself off from the edge of the bed and removed the crown of ivy from my mane of hair, setting it on the bedside table with a delicate clink. At the same time, Windley plopped himself tiredly into a corner chair and folded his knuckles beneath his chin.
“My curiosity is certainly not worth your discomfort,” I said “So I won’t make you tell me. But… if you ever decide to…” I approached him and placed a hand atop his head. “I’ve known you for eight years, Windley. Even if I don’t know this part of you, I know the things that matter. Eight years is a long time, and your past is not your present.” I used my grasp on the ruff of his hair to shake his head playfully. “Got it?”
There was a brief pause before his posture changed. His head tipped forward as his shoulders slumped. Again, something of a phenomenon. Defeat was not something Windley often wore.
“I’ll tell you, Merrin,” he said, subdued, and I felt him stiffen as he caught himself forgetting my honorifics. “Fuck. Sorry. Queen Merrin.”
That seemed to be happening more and more lately. Only other queens ever called me by my first name alone. Hearing it on Windley’s breath made my arm hairs prick in a forbidden way. “Are you certain you wish to?” I said.
He nodded, and I began to retreat my hand from his russet-turned hair, but he lashed out like lightening and gripped my wrist to hold me in place. This time, it was the hair of my neck that turned erect as a shiver chased down my spine. Likely anticipation. After so many years I was finally about to see behind the devilish guard’s veil of secrets.
“I do hail from the queen-less lands, but I left when I was younger,” he started.
“Eight years younger?” I said.
He tipped his head to affirm. “I wasn’t… well-suited for life where I was raised, so I set off in search of a new way of living. That’s when Captain Delagos found me wandering the ruffage of this queendom’s outskirts and brought me back with him.” As he spoke, Windley twisted at his ring with his thumb. “I only stayed a short while before a certain gaffer of a knight came through the realm on an envoy,” he said.
“Albie?”
“Mm-hm. The Clearing had a deficiency in young males at the time, so he brought me back with him to train in the Queen’s guard. Said he saw potential in me.”
Though not consciously, I caught my fingers beginning to knead into his hair. When I realized it, immediately I put a stop to them.
What the hell?
“P-Potential because of what you are?” I stammered.
Windley loosened his grip on my wrist but didn’t release me. Once more, I fought the urge to grope his hair. It was as though my captive fingers had a mind of their own. They wished to crawl and weave in a manner they had never done before.
My time with the mad queen had turned me unstable, and my sorts had fallen out of order. There was no other explanation.
“Spirites are much like humans,” Windley said, voice soft as lapping waves. “But we have certain… abilities. I happen to be using one of them on you right now.”
At that moment, I felt a push of something invisible. He claimed to have been using a power on me and whatever it was, it had just amplified. With it, my state of being changed. Every inhale I took became heightened, and the air around me seemed to vibrate against different parts of my body like unseen clusters of moths.
“Do you feel tingly?” he said.
“I do.”
In fact, it was a feeling much like falling in love. But I didn’t know that yet.
From his position holding my wrist, he lightly trailed his fingers up and then back down my arm, soft and coaxing.
“Spirites have the ability to steal energy from other beings. Of course, the easiest way is through sex, but touch itself works to some extent.” Again, he traced his fingertips up my arm, and the inside of my body reacted warmly and prickly, as though my blood were trying to push outward in every direction. My face, too, felt warm and restricted. “It’s a delicate line, as one can easily kill a person if they lose themselves to ecstasy.”
My pulse rammed against my ribcage in
an effort to get out.
“We were once predators of the human race, but we evolved out of those tendencies,” said Windley. No longer was his gaze hidden in the floor. It had slinked up to meet mine in a most beguiling manner. The unseen cluster of wings moved up my legs, disappeared, and then reappeared at my chest.
“The most dangerous piece, I suppose,” said Windley, “is the fonder one feels for you, the easier it is to steal their life. I always found that a cruel irony.”
“Why does it feel so…?” I was too embarrassed to finish the question, so Windley did so for me.
“Pleasurable?” he said. “So that you offer up more of yourself.” For a final time, he stroked the back of his fingernails up my arm. In turn, my fingers dug themselves deeper into his hair. “I’m going to stop now,” he said, tone protective. “It can be a rude transition, so brace yourself.” Then, gradually, he let me go and the sensation left with him, slinking away like snakes retreating in the grass.
“And that,” he said, “is why the Queen of the Cove wanted to ‘borrow me’ for the night.”
In the aftermath, the world returned to normal. Windley and I were alone in the room, same as we had always been. I left my hand in his hair because I wasn’t quite ready to stop touching him. Remnants of his power, I assumed. He waited for me until at long last, I withdrew and breathed the last of my shivers away.
“So, Queen Merrin.” He hung his hands limply between his knees in earnest. “Are you afraid of me now?”
“No.” My mouth answered bluntly before I could even think on it. Good thing I was in agreement with the impulsive thing. “I mean, it’s pretty extraordinary. I’m not afraid, though.”
He furrowed his brow because he wasn’t sure if I was telling the truth or pandering.
“I’m not! Sure, you’re basically a human, er, non-human fly trap, but that’s intriguing as hell! With powers like that, you could coerce anyone you wanted. No wonder Albie brought you back for the guard. Do you use it, ever?”
He shook his head and stared at me blankly a moment, before letting that familiar anarchic grin invade his face. “I should have known you, of all people, would be fine with it.”
As he sat in the chair, I crouched to his level and gathered his hands in mine by way of experiment. “See, we’ve touched hundreds of times and it’s never been like that. You must have really good control. None of it ever eeks out?”
He pursed his lips. “Eek?” He shook away the question, clearly thinking it silly. “May I ask what it felt like for you?”
I sought the best way to describe it. “Intoxicating and a little addictive,” I determined. “It also felt safe, like I wanted to tell you all my secrets. And like I just wanted to curl up in your lap.”
“I see.” He smiled to himself, pleased over my answer.
“Does Beau know?” I asked.
“She does, for her own safety, but she has never experienced it.”
‘For her own safety.’ There were those who would deem Windley dangerous because of this power and his race. I understood why he would want to keep it secret.
Windley stretched out in his chair, catlike. “You know, that was pretty cathartic, lion queen. Feels like I’ve gotten unbottled. Maybe it’s good that you’re so nosy and meddling.”
That wouldn’t be the last of my meddling. I had about a hundred questions I was prepared to ask.
As if anticipating this, Windley changed the topic. “Don’t you need to get ready for dinner?” He rose to open the room’s closet, acting as one of my guards in the absence of my own. “I assume they set gowns aside for you to borrow. Isn’t that what you usually do for each other?” He began shuffling about in the closet’s contents. “Here, see? How about this one?” He held up a sleeved dress that was colored sapphire and very much suitable for dinner. “What?” he paused, for I wasn’t shy in my inspection of him from across the room.
“So, there are other powers too?” I said slowly.
“You aren’t going to let this rest, are you?” he said, drab.
“Not likely.” I inched closer. “Is your hair color one of them? Are you able to control it?”
Windley took a lock of it between his fingers. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s like a mood-stone, changing with my whims.” He threw the gown at me. “We’ll save that for next time, though, because I expect you’ll be summoned soon. Don’t you want to look your best for the she-devil’s dinner?”
Alas, during the session, the room had become painted in the twilit glow of a dying day.
He tapped his nose, impish. “I will tell you this, though. My hair isn’t the only thing about my appearance that can change.”
Chapter 9
A Love So Deadly
I put considerably more effort into my appearance for Sestilia’s dinner than I normally would because I knew what I would be up against. I didn’t seek to outshine her—I knew that was impossible—rather I sought to maintain some semblance of a queen within her presence. I didn’t want to be known in her court as the squalid queen of the north.
The guest washroom was well-stocked and the bathwater warm. I cleaned up properly this time, a far improvement from the vagabond wipe-down I had given myself earlier at the mercer’s shop. The dress Windley picked out was perfect—elegant, appropriate and it fit my body well. Most guards developed a sense for these things after so many years of caring for queens, Albie being a prime example. Likely, the dress had belonged to Sestilia’s sister, for it wasn’t of Sestilia’s eldritch taste. Doubtful I would have fit into one of Sestilia’s anyway.
The great hall was of similar architecture to the rest of the spider queen’s domain. By the time dinner was served there, the sun had given way to darkness, so the hall’s main light came from robust fireplaces at either end. The candle-adorned chandeliers suspended from the ceiling served as little more than decoration.
The one good thing about the first part of dinner was that Sestilia, dressed in a lavish black gown dotted with crystals that caught the fire’s light enchantingly, was positioned far at the opposite end of the table. This made conversation difficult and allowed me to admire her beauty from a distance. She was one better seen and not heard.
But I wouldn’t be so lucky to keep away from her the entire meal. Lonely, apparently, she scooched down to join me on my end starting at the third course.
“I love when they leave the heads on,” she purred, poking at her food.
“Yeah, it really reminds you what it is you’re eating,” I said in distaste.
“Precisely!” she responded with glee.
Regrettably, there was no one to save me. Rafe, Windley, and a handful of the castle staff were properly lined along the wall while we ate, and the noble Sir Albie and Captain Delagos were still off galivanting elsewhere.
“I’m so melancholy that you’ll be leaving tomorrow, Merrin. Promise me you’ll come visit again.” The dazzling queen rested her head on my shoulder, making her shimmering hair pour over both our seats.
“I will just as soon as I can.”
A loose enough promise for loopholes.
“I have to warn you, Sestilia,” I continued. “We will likely leave with the dawn to keep on schedule. I don’t expect you to rise to see us off.”
“Oh goodness, no. I don’t expect I will. My skin needs its rest.” She patted her perfectly smooth cheeks.
The knowledge that this was likely my last interaction with her was enough to push me through the rest of the meal. It was a shame, as judging by my bedchamber, I likely would have formed true friendship with her sister, born heir of the Cove.
Sestilia kept me long after the final course, telling me disturbing things to which I made sarcastic comments, and all the while I could see the adoration building in her ice blue eyes. When at last I managed to peel myself away, I believe the last thing I said to her was, “My time here has been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”
It was no lie.
Moving on, though, the important
part of that evening was not the dinner itself or even my final interaction with the Queen of the Cove; rather, it was what happened later, in the deepest parts of night. But first—
“Your Majesty, that took forever.” Rafe voiced a rare opinion after we had reached the hall to our rooms after dinner. He was rubbing his chest in discomfort.
“I know. I’m sorry. Trust me, it was as painful for me as it was for you guys.”
“Of course, even she liked you, Queen Merrin,” Windley said with rolled eyes and folded arms.
“Oh my, was that a compliment from one of the Clearing’s most smug? Tell me another, would you?”
Rafe had no time for our flirting. “We set off at first light, yes?” He peered out the window at the end of the hall where the white moon hung low.
“Even sooner if we can help it. I’ve already alerted Queen Sestilia of our intent. Now it depends on Albie. Track him down and make sure he retires at a reasonable hour, would you, Rafe?”
As the tapping of Rafe’s footsteps diminished into the swallowing darkness at the other end of the hall, I turned to bid Windley goodnight and found he was looking at me in a similar manner as when I had come out of the mercer’s shop earlier that day.
“I know I probably look unnatural because you don’t see me gowned up all that often, but you have to stop looking at me like that, Windley. You’re making me feel self-conscious.” I put a hand to my hip. “Which when done to a queen is punishable by death, you know.”
It wasn’t.
“That’s what you think? That I find your appearance unnatural?” He laughed audibly to himself, and as he pushed the door open to his room, he gave me a prowling smirk over his shoulder. “I did a good job with the dress.”
That was the first time it occurred to me that maybe he hadn’t been giving me that gaze because he thought it was gaudy to see me dressed up but because he thought I looked… appealing.
