Would Roth kick me out if I remained mute? Beyond the tent, the wind howled, louder and louder.
“How about I make dinner, and you ask me questions?” I could more easily evade his questions if he was distracted by food, and maybe even ask questions of my own.
“You doubt I can prepare my own meal?” He tsked.
Great! Had the doubter’s tax just doubled?
As I carefully considered my response, I slid my tongue over my lips. Roth stiffened and scowled. Silent now, he strode past the firepit and the pallet of furs to sit at a small metal table, where he ran a rag along the length of his sword, removing Stumpy’s blood. Up and down. Up, down.
Uh, what just happened? “I’m sure you’re a perfectly adequate chef,” I said. “But I have precooked cans of soup. Just open, heat and serve for a bona fide two-star dining experience.”
The dark one laughed. “You carry precooked soup and eat stars?”
“You mean you don’t?” I winced as if embarrassed for him, then untied my cloak and let my backpack drop to the ground, ten thousand pounds of metal clinking together. My shoulders all but wept with relief. “I didn’t mean literal stars. I—Never mind.” We had a language barrier. Noted.
“We’ve already eaten. But thank you,” Saxon said, unerringly polite.
Careful. You shouldn’t know his name.
“We wouldn’t eat your soup anyway.” Roth never glanced my way. Up, down. Up, down. He appeared utterly absorbed in his task, yet his tense body language suggested he remained aware of everyone and everything. “We don’t know you, don’t trust you. Perhaps you plan to poison us.”
Disappointment skewered me. He was fearful, just like everyone else. “True,” I said and sighed. “Ask your questions, then, and I’ll try to prove myself. But maybe oversee a round of introductions first, like a good host?”
Silence reigned, the others looking to Roth for a response.
He set the rag on the table, placed the sword beside it, and finally met my gaze. Those shamrock eyes were no longer frosted—they smoldered with determination, making me shiver. “I am Prince Roth Charmaine from the Empire of Sevón.”
Aw, had I hurt the big bad prince’s ego? Wait, wait, wait. “Your last name is Charmaine?” As in charming. As in Prince Charming. No way. Just no way. He could not be Snow White’s love interest. But...maybe? He had the title, the face and the body. Would he soon have a fated crush on a dead chick?
I don’t care. I don’t. I had no romantic interest in him. He was cute. But so what? I’d seen cuter. Probably. Somewhere.
Maybe he crushed on Snow White before she died. I mean, the fairy tale didn’t specify when he first beheld the girl, only that he saw her lying inside a glass coffin and he had to get him a little some-some of that.
What if he had a huge crush on Truly? That might explain his continued terseness toward her.
Was I fated to become her greatest enemy?
Never! As I’d been told, death didn’t always equate to death in prophecies. Maybe the Evil Queen didn’t try to kill SW. Maybe the Evil Queen helped her achieve a new beginning.
Not that I was the Evil Queen. I would fight the possibility forever.
“Everyone else got names?” I asked.
Roth waved to the stunner with dark, glittery skin. “Meet Vikander Romanova from the House of...Love.”
Why the pause? And why did the others snicker? Whatever. I was happy to meet the infamous Vikander, the one Farrah had wanted to avoid.
Yeah, he must be Truly’s fiancé.
“There are three things you should know about me straightaway,” Vikander said, all raw sensuality and potent allure. “I’m good with my hands, I’m good with my mouth, but I’m not very good at resisting temptation.”
Truly rolled her eyes. “Actually, there’s a fourth. He has zero boundaries.”
“Ah. The resident flirt. Good to know. But what creature of myth are you, Viks?” I asked, then cringed. Inquiring about someone’s species was probably a major no-no, and definitely rude.
Okay, I’d have to take a gamble and admit something personal about myself. Risk versus reward. Maybe these guys loved mortals. Maybe they hated mortals. Either way, they couldn’t help but notice my oddities. Better to explain my origins now, in a welcome environment, than later, while accusations were hurled.
I braced and said, “Please forgive my ignorance. I come from...the mortal world.”
Instant curiosity, everyone leaning in closer to study the new animal at the zoo. But no fear, no malice. Thank goodness!
They hurled questions at me.
Roth: “How did you get here? Why did you come here?”
Vikander: “How did you afford a witch’s services? Actually, how did you contact a witch in the first place?”
Truly: “Tell me everything! I’ve always wanted to visit the mortal world all my life. It calls to me.”
Or maybe I had been the one calling to her? Twins were two halves of a whole, after all. “I’ll answer everyone’s questions. Later.” Much later. “Have you met any other mortals?”
“Long ago, there were wars between our worlds. Since then, most royals pay a witch to collect a mortal tutor for their children. A know-your-enemy strategy. Not that I consider you an enemy,” she assured me. Her bicolored eyes brightened. “Do giant metal birds really carry people inside their bellies?”
Metal—? Ah. Okay. “They do. They’re known as airplanes.” I waved at Vikander. “Your turn. You never finished telling me what you are.”
He gave a half smile and said, “I am fae. The most magnificent in all the land, obviously. Have you looked at me? Go ahead, you know you want to...”
“He’s good at everything, except modesty,” Roth said. Harsh words layered with affection. “And that’s because he’s exceptional at modesty.”
Vikander grinned a wicked grin. “By the way, mortal. If you hoped to seduce the prince, you should have worn a better dress. Or no dress.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I replied, my tone as dry as the sand outside. How many girls had tried to win the prince by showing up unannounced and naked? “Though I prefer my usual method of just breathing.” What? Confidence mattered.
Another rusty noise escaped Roth as he rubbed a hand over his mouth. Yeah, definitely a laugh.
The others gaped at him, making me think he rarely displayed mirth. I fought the urge to preen.
“I am Saxon. An avian, or bird shifter.” He bowed his gorgeous head, exuding an air of determination, suspicion and kindness. An odd combination. “I am from the Skylair Clan, and one of Roth’s generals.”
Shifter as in shape-shifter? So cool! “Your wings are gorgeous. Will I creep you out if I ask to touch your feathers?”
The room got real quiet, real fast. Truly’s cheeks reddened. Vikander and the guy with scales sniggered. Saxon scrubbed the back of his neck as if he didn’t quite know what to say. Roth frowned.
“What?” I demanded. What blunder had I made?
“Asking to touch an avian’s wings is the equivalent asking to stroke a male’s...you know.” Truly’s scandalized tone caused my cheeks to redden.
“Seriously?” I groaned. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
Just like that, everyone exploded into fits of laughter.
“I’m Princess Truly Morrow, by the way.” She smiled and winced, the wound in her lip paining her.
Great! Now I wanted to kill the troll all over again. Which wasn’t as evil queenish as it sounded, because I would derive no joy from the action. Well, not tons of joy, just some. Or lots. But lots wasn’t tons.
Roth motioned to the golden boy with scales and elbow fins. “This is Reese Acquta of Seaspray, a land within the Azul Dynasty.”
Reese stepped forward and bowed, all calm dignity and quiet strength.
“He is one
of the mer-folk,” Roth continued. “A siren. Because his voice is enchanted, Reese has taken a vow of silence.”
I thought...yes! I could feeel magic pouring off him. It seemed to brush against my skin, tingling. Eager to learn and brimming with curiosity, I asked, “Do you have a tail whenever you’re in water?” Wait. Crap. Vow of silence. I looked to Roth. “How does he breathe out of water...and in the water?”
Reese turned his head one way, then the other, baring his neck to reveal three lines of raised skin on each side.
I swallowed a squeal of wonder. Gills?
“Most of the mer-folk are shape-shifters, but a rare few are not,” Roth explained. “Reese is not. And we love and accept him just as he is.”
Had other shape-shifters not loved and accepted him? I pressed my lips together, certain I’d reached the group’s limit on too-personal questions.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you guys.” I waved, which wasn’t lame at all.
Saxon snapped his majestic wings close to his sides, total warrior-angel chic, and said, “Time will tell.”
I hiked my thumb in his direction while peering at Roth. “Is he always so warm and inviting to strangers?”
“No, but you caught him on a good day.”
I snorted, and Roth’s green, green eyes shimmered with a new round of amusement. Gossamer shivers slipped through me, rolling along each of my limbs.
“Your turn, Everly...” He waited, clearly hoping I would reveal my last name.
“Just Everly,” I said.
He slitted his eyelids. “Tell us something about you, Just Everly.”
His hard tone told me more than his words. Do it or leave. Fine! Incentive to let me stay, coming in three, two, one. “I need to speak with Queen Violet. She knew my...mother. The two were friends before Mom traveled to the mortal world. But my mom...she...she died.” More bricks, more bricks! “I’m here to relay the news to...the queen.”
Reactions varied, running the gamut. Everything from curiosity to sympathy.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” Truly said, and she seemed genuinely upset on my behalf.
“As am I,” Roth intoned.
Light bulb moment! “Anyone willing to escort me to the palace after the storm passes? In return, I’ll tell you stories about the mortal world.” Good ones, too. I’d make Scheherazade proud, à la Arabian Nights. Without revealing anything else about myself.
Truly opened her mouth to agree, I was sure, but Roth silenced her with an imperious hand gesture.
He studied me all over again, his expression eventually softening, eliciting an odd sensation low in my belly. “Yes, sweetling. We will take you to the palace. That’s where we were headed before the storm hit. But once there, you will be on your own. We cannot stay long.”
That’s right. He had a meeting with someone from Fleur, and then he had to find the Apple of Life and Death to save his dad. Unless he’d met with the Fleurian—Fleuridian?—representative before this? To ask, I’d have to admit I’d mirror-spied. No, thanks. No telling how these people would react. But oh, how I hated the thought of parting with Truly so soon after meeting her.
And had the prince just called me sweetling?
He must have. Why else would I be shivering?
“Thank you,” I said, then looked to Truly. “After I meet with Queen Violet, maybe I can catch up with you guys and tag along on your journey? I’ll entertain you with even better stories.” About me! By then, she’d know we were sisters.
A round of blinking ensued. Couldn’t make sense of me, huh? Understandable. We’d just met, and I was coming on strong. But come on! Cut me some slack. I wanted to be her best friend, like, yesterday, and tell her all about her wonderful aunt Aubrey and incredible cousin Hartly. I wanted to hear tales about her childhood.
“I warn you, Everly,” she said, ignoring my question. “My mother has changed. She is not the woman your mother probably described to you. Darkness has taken root in her heart. She hurts everyone she encounters. I alone am the exception.”
Taken root. A reference to the apples Violet once consumed?
“I’m not concerned.” I would be her second exception. And there was no reason to repeat my request to join these people later. I’d just show up, all Was just in the neighborhood.
“Very brave,” she said with a small smile.
“Or very foolish,” Roth grated.
After flipping him off with my expression, one I’d perfected over the years, I made my way to Truly’s pallet. When no objections arose, I eased beside her. Then, to keep my end of the bargain, I launched into a description of TVs and cars.
The moment she relaxed, I attempted a subtle interrogation about Queen Violet—what darkness?—as well as our father, the king, and Truly’s reasons for sticking with an entourage from Sevón. She evaded most of the queries with a masterful skill I envied, though she did admit someone had murdered King Stephan a week ago, and she didn’t mourn his loss. Apparently, he’d been universally despised.
I know the feeling.
The guys never relaxed. They watched me, ready to act if I lashed out.
“Here.” Roth thrust a goblet of wine in my direction.
I meant to take a sip, just one, just to be polite, but I ended up draining every drop, the sweetness teasing my tongue.
Soon I relaxed, my lids going heavy. Darkness encroached upon my mind, dizziness hot on its heels, fatigue barreling through me like a freight train in hyperdrive.
A yawn nearly cracked my jaw. Lack of sleep had finally caught up with me, and I had to pay the toll.
“How far is the palace from here?” Were my words slurred?
“We’re close,” Truly replied. “Just a short ride away. We would have traveled on, despite the storm, and spent the night there, but centaurs moved in after the king’s death, and I never feel safe when they are near.”
Another yawn, my head drooping forward. Stay awake. Fight! Now wasn’t the time to rest. I coveted more time with Truly and didn’t trust the others to stay put. I had a feeling they’d ditch me the moment I fell asleep.
Plus, I needed to figure out where this group fit in the fairy tale. And they must fit, since they played a part in Truly’s life. And...and...I had questions about Nicolas. Right! The reason I’d come here early. I should ask about the sorcerian, and tell these people all my secrets—
Would Ophelia return, as promised?
What the what? Zip your lips. Say nothing. I planned to save my questions for Violet, remember? She wouldn’t draw the wrong conclusions. She would love me.
“You will sleep now.” Roth’s voice penetrated the dizziness. I think he traced his knuckles along my jaw.
I smiled. He wasn’t afraid of me after all.
Another trace of his knuckles, the silken touch sending my thoughts deeper into the darkness.
I obeyed, helpless to do otherwise, and drifted off...
* * *
I dreamed of my mother’s demise...of a faceless Snow White sprawled dead at my feet...of apples rotting around me, smothering me...of Roth holding me, offering comfort...of Hartly and Truly shouting curses at me, blaming me for their pain and suffering, hating me, fearing me.
An anguished cry shocked me awake. Had a wounded animal invaded my bedroom?
No, not my bedroom. Roth and Truly’s tent. Before I even opened my eyes, an internal alarm clanged, letting me know something was very, very wrong. What, what?
The wall around my heart! Some of the bricks had crumbled, allowing streams of grief to flood me. I hurried to rebuild before I started sobbing and never stopped. There. Better. Little by little, tension seeped from my body.
I panted as I took stock. I lay on the pallet, covered by my cloak. Around me, air seemed to fizz like champagne, dust motes sparkling like glitter. I breathed deeply, drinking in the world’s
sweetest perfume: jasmine, honeysuckle and cinnamon.
Cinnamon. Roth’s scent! He must be nearby.
I breathed faster, sucking in more of that scent, and scanned the rest of the sunlit tent. A few feet away, the prince was crouching beside my backpack, rummaging through my things.
“Hey!” The word emerged as a ragged sigh. I eased up and grimaced, a sharp pain lancing my temples. Ugh. I guess my low tolerance for alcohol had gotten the best of me. “What are you doing?”
He glanced over his shoulder, utterly unabashed, and oh, wow, I didn’t think I’d ever seen a more breathtaking sight. Morning light bathed him, paying homage, softening the roughness of his features while also revealing a detail I’d previously missed. A faint scar that slashed from his temple to the edge of his jaw. A mark of strength. He’d survived whatever had harmed him.
Handsome before, devastating now.
I searched his face for fear, hate, or a leer...no, no and no. The worst of my irritation dulled.
“I’m making sure you have nothing nefarious in here,” he said, “that you do not hope to turn us into unwitting collaborators of an unscrupulous plan.”
Oh, his voice! It was even better than I remembered, the rich timbre the audible equivalent of warm milk and honey sprinkled with crack. My lids turned heavy, hooding my eyes, and my chest tightened.
“What is this?” he asked, holding up the box of tampons.
Heat infused my cheeks. I—
Screamed. A spider-scorpion thing skittered across the sand mere inches from the pallet. With arachnids, my first instinct had always been burn everything!
Roth unsheathed a sword and rushed to my side, ready to take on an army. His posture said, I will kill. His expression said, I will like it. I had no doubt he would emerge the victor in any fight, no matter the odds stacked against him.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “What happened?”
“A spider...thing.” A full body shudder rocked me. “The monstrous creature disappeared under the tent.”
At first, he gave no reaction. Then he laughed with less rust than before. Heat spread over the rest of my face, and not from embarrassment. Roth didn’t wear amusement comfortably, but he wore it beautifully.
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