The Evil Queen

by Showalter, Gena

  “This isn’t funny, Chuckles. My heart has yet to calm.”

  “A tigress when facing a troll. A kitten when facing a spider thing,” he said. “Who knew the little sweetling could be so adorable?”

  How many other girls had he referred to as sweetling?

  “You should be nice to me. This tigress doesn’t scratch, she bites.” And she might have rabies. I rescanned the tent to make sure there were no more arachnids, realized we were alone, and tensed. “Where are the others?” Translation: tell me where Truly is before I flip out!

  “They are shopping for supplies while I act as your escort. We met with the queen earlier this morning.”

  But...but... I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye or confirm my plan to meet up later. “Shouldn’t Truly stay here with her mother?” And her twin!

  A muscle jumped under his eye, a reaction I’d seen during his conversation with Noel. “She is betrothed to a warrior from Sevón, so in Sevón she lives.”

  Before, I’d wondered if he had a crush on her. Now, I wondered if he disliked her. He projected animosity and resentment, not attraction.

  I opened up to tell him Truly didn’t want the warrior—Vikander? She wanted Farrah. Anything to help her. Zip it, Morrow. My twin’s secrets were not mine to share.

  “Back to your unlawful search of my bag,” I said. “I understand your reasoning, and if you’d asked, I would have granted permission. Now, I’m just annoyed.” Another pain lanced through my head, ruining my stern expression, no doubt.

  Roth crouched in front of me, my breath hitching as he traced his knuckles along my jaw. His body radiated heat like a furnace. Mmm. Heat. He made me feel feverish.

  “Your pain will fade, Everly.” His voice was deeper, huskier. Richer.

  Miracle of miracles, my pain did fade. He must have the magic touch.

  Magic...

  I gulped. Was his touch literally magic? I wanted to ask but bit my tongue. No more rude, probing questions, unless I wanted to answer rude, probing questions in return.

  The air charged with awareness as we stared at each other. I fought the urge to lean against him, wanting to feel his strong arms wrap around me. Would I experience the same comfort I’d found in my dream?

  I’d never relied on Peter for comfort. Peter who? Why rely on someone who wouldn’t stick around?

  Roth looked away first, breaking the spell, and stood. All business, he said, “In Airaria, women and children should never travel without a guard. Scavengers kill strangers for their finds, trolls and centaurs roam free, and slavers prowl for fresh meat.”

  Nothing like the mystical homeland Mom had described. How had the kingdom fallen into such terrible disrepair? “Thank you, Roth. Prince Roth. Your Majesty. Whatever! I appreciate your assistance.”

  Terse nod. “In five minutes, I will return.” He said no more, just strode from the tent.

  With a grimace, I stood up. My balance teetered, my legs unsteady. On the table was a metal bowl and a metal cup, both filled with water. On the other side of the tent I found a metal screen hiding a metal bucket. The bathroom? Peachy. At least the bucket was clean. But why so much metal?

  What to do first? More than anything, I wanted to palm a compact and speak with Foreverly. After a successful night in Enchantia, some of my distrust had eased. She might have warnings I’d need to heed to make this day even better. But first, I had other pressing needs and little time to spare.

  I used the bucket, which was just as awful as expected. Then I washed up as thoroughly as possible and brushed my hair and teeth. I wanted to look (and smell) my best for Violet. My hope? She fell in love instantly. However, if she needed to get to know me first, fine.

  And dang it, I still didn’t know what Truly had meant. What darkness had taken root in the queen’s soul? Aubrey had described Violet as a valiant young mother forced to make an agonizing choice about which daughter to keep and endanger and which daughter to send away and save.

  So why had she chosen to save me and not Truly? How had she protected my twin from King Stephan?

  After changing into clean undergarments, a plain white T-shirt and the faux-leather pants, I ate an energy bar, drained a cup of water, then anchored the backpack in place and secured my cloak.

  Finally! I could summon Foreverly. I palmed a compact, noting my over-bright eyes and rosy cheeks. With a wave of my hand, my alter ego appeared, as freaky as ever.

  “Am I syphoning from someone?” I asked quietly. Maybe I’d inadvertently stored power?

  “You are—”

  Movement to my left. Crap! I snapped the compact closed before she could finish her sentence. Roth strode into the tent, the sight of him like a punch in the gut.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” I demanded.

  He’d been squeaky clean before. Now blood splattered his cheek, dirt streaked his clothes and bruises ringed the underside of his eyes. He radiated aggression and brimmed with savagery...and I liked it.

  Okay, clearly I had a thing for fighters.

  He waved my words away. “Had a minor disagreement with a group of trolls.”

  No need to ask if he’d won; satisfaction oozed from him, making me want to rub against him and purr. “How many?” I asked.

  “Only three. Also a handful of scavengers. And two centaurs.” He gave me a once-over, a little slower this time, his gaze hotter. His pupils expanded, dominating his irises. A half smile teased the corners of his mouth.

  Magnificent boy.

  “Pants,” he mused. “On a female.”

  Had I committed a major fashion faux pas? “If you tell me you can’t bear to look at me...”

  “I would be lying,” he muttered.

  Pleasure seared me, sending my heart on a wild roller coaster ride. I might be in over my head with this boy.

  Was I complaining? No way. I liked it—liked him. “Were the trolls looking for Stumpy?” Had they found his body and sought revenge?

  He ignored the question, saying, “Trolls can see in the dark, and they enjoy chasing their prey. If not for the storm last night, they would have caught you.”

  “What should I do if I come across another bloodthirsty one, then?”

  “They fear fire. If you can, burn them. If you get bitten, burn yourself. Their venom is mystical, and turns even the kindest, gentlest person into a murderous beast...before they die as blood leaks from every orifice.”

  I gulped. “Is no one immune?”

  “Only venomous insects and animals and shape-shifters.” He stepped closer to me. Trying it intimidate me? Too bad, so sad. I liked his nearness and loved his heat. “You don’t have to worry, though.” He reached up to adjust the ties on my cloak. “Get fanged while you’re with me, and I will kill you straightaway.”

  No wonder Truly had rushed to assure everyone she hadn’t been bitten. “Thanks. I guess.”

  “You chose a bad time to visit Enchantia. The whole realm is in a state of unrest. Truly’s father just died. Two other kings, a queen, three princes and two princesses recently passed. My father is dying. Never in our history have there been so many royal deaths so close together. New leaders are unsure how to deal with each other. Citizens are rioting.”

  I wasn’t just a visitor; I’d be staying. Maybe. Probably. Everything depended on Violet’s reaction to me.

  As I stood there, peering up at Roth, I remembered his determination to save his father and patted his shoulders. I shot for comfort but managed only awkward. “Fate shouldn’t get to kick out the old to usher in the new. The changing of the guard should be done by our choice, at our pace. But it never is. We can only accept that these things happen, and hope better things await us.”

  He frowned and tilted his head, lost in thought for a moment. “While you are in the palace, remain on guard. Trust no one, especially the queen. Rumors suggest she’s the
one who murdered King Stephan.”

  Whoa. My mother killed my father? Wasn’t like I could really blame her, though. He’d tried to kill three newborns, and he had murdered his own brother. “I’ll be careful,” I promised.

  Roth looked unconvinced but nodded anyway. “Afterward, you are not to search for us. Do you understand?”

  Oh, no, no, no. The big bad prince would not be ordering around the brand-new princess. “Sorry, but finding you afterward is as good as done.” I might even have a royal escort by then.

  He did the whole eye-slitting thing, clearly unused to being defied. “Why do you wish to join us?”

  “Princess Truly,” I corrected. “I want to join Princess Truly.”

  “I don’t care. You are not to come looking for us,” he reiterated. “We will be traveling through the Enchantian Forest, a land ruled by Allura, the Empress of Nymphs. Once you enter her territory, you are subject to her whims. There is no one more temperamental.”

  Allura.

  Noel had called one of the jobs I was supposed to want “alluring.” Any connection?

  “Every day I have to handle a she-beast,” I said. “Myself! I think I can deal with some empress. Plus, I’m willing to risk anything to...work for Truly. You know, be her personal guard or something. Maybe I heard she has a great benefits package.”

  His expression lit with intrigue, and I wondered if his mind had gone to the gutter—because mine certainly had. “I’ll come back for you. I’ll hire you for a position on my...staff.”

  I chuckled, blushed and groaned, in that order. Oh, yeah. His mind had definitely gone to the gutter. Deciding not to comment on the double entendre, I simply asked, “Why?”

  He hiked a shoulder. “I’m a prince. I do what I want.”

  “Yes, but why do you want to return for me? Why do you want to hire me?”

  “I’m a prince,” he repeated. “I do not need to explain myself.”

  I rolled my eyes, and the corners of his mouth started twitching, just the way I liked.

  “You will enjoy working for me, sweetling. I offer an even better benefits package than Truly.”

  When I did not offer immediate assurances, his features did that hardening thing, a quiet ferocity coming over him.

  “What do you know about magic?” he asked.

  “Not much, and definitely not as much as I’d like.”

  “Many wield it. Some good, some bad.” His voice tightened, every word sharpened into a blade. “Among the bad are sorcerers. They can kill you in a thousand different ways. Or worse.”

  My good mood withered fast. Like Mom, he hated the sorcerian, and there’d be no changing his mind. Disdain stamped every line of his face.

  He flicked his tongue over an incisor. “Sometimes, the only way to distinguish a magic wielder from a mortal is this.” He tapped my wrist cuffs. “Do you know the significance of them?”

  “Um. They’re pretty? They belonged to my mother.” The pangs returned, ripping through my chest. More bricks, coming up. “I found them in her things.”

  “She wielded magic?”

  “She did, yes,” I rasped. “When she lived in Enchantia. Not the mortal world.”

  He nodded as if I’d just recited common knowledge. “Hands are a conduit for magic, and movement releases power. That’s why your enemies will try to remove your hands. The cuffs provide a small barrier between flesh and blade.”

  Fascinating. My gaze dipped to his wrists. Sure enough, he wore a pair of silver cuffs. “What magical ability do you possess?” No personal questions, remember? Wait, why had I enacted such a rule?

  “I’ll consider telling you mine if you tell me yours.”

  That. That was why. “No, thank you.”

  He cupped my face, his gaze dropping to my lips. His thumb followed, tracing over the center seam. “Tell me,” he repeated softly.

  Such a gentle entreaty, as gentle as his touch, yet every point of contact proved electric. Goose bumps spread over me, spurring an avalanche of sensation. Tingles. Heat.

  Enough. He belongs to SW. Whomever she happened to be. “How do you know I wield magic?”

  “If your mother was a magus—a natural born magic wielder—then you are, too.”

  Was she? Was I? “If she wasn’t a magus?”

  Shrug. “Then someone paid witches to bestow a magical ability upon her. Something only royals can afford.”

  So much to learn! “I...no, I won’t share what I can do.” I’d be better served shoring up my defenses, just in case.

  “Are you certain?” His husky voice tempted. His touch beguiled. He moved a hand into my hair and sifted a lock between his fingers. “Like moonlight,” he whispered.

  Resist his appeal! “I’m sure.” I didn’t know him, didn’t trust him. Focus on the conversation, not the touch. “What magic does Queen Violet wield?”

  He could have refused to answer. Instead, he told me, “She can control air. Winds.”

  Winds...like the ones last night? Hadn’t Noel mentioned Violet’s connection to the storm? “Is she a magus?”

  “No.” His expression hardened. He dropped his arms, releasing me, and stepped back. “I meant what I said. Do not follow us. It’s too dangerous.”

  Okay, time to bring out the big guns. I unleashed my most maniacal smile.

  He burst out laughing, the sound pure, smoky seduction, no hint of rust. “This is your attempt to intimidate me?”

  “I...” No one had ever reacted this way, and I floundered.

  He chucked me under the chin. “You, sweetling, are adorable.”

  Adorable? Adorable? I was hard-core and a total mess. But I had far more important issues to deal with than Roth’s opinion of me. Like researching Nicolas and spending more time with Truly.

  Truly, who might resent me when she learned my true identity. Right now, she was the sole heir to Violet’s throne. My presence threatened her future.

  While I liked the idea of being queen—fine!—loved the idea, I loved the idea of my twin’s happiness even more.

  I could live in the palace and work for her, just like I’d teased Roth. But what was I qualified to do in Enchantia?

  Need a snarky comeback? I’m your gal! Hire me, Princess Everly Morrow, and I’ll reduce your foes to tears. But wait, there’s more! Call now, and I’ll throw in a second snarky comeback FREE.

  “Now you are pensive and sad,” Roth said, pulling me from my thoughts. “This, I do not like. Come.”

  He took my hand and led me into a stormless morning. Vivid stars still glowed in the bright morning sky. The scent of jasmine thickened, coating the cool breeze.

  “Should you leave the tent unattended?” I asked. “Aren’t you worried a scavenger will steal your stuff?”

  “The tent is a rental, the furnishings inconsequential.”

  “Well. Do you realize you spoke to me like a dog? ‘Come,’” I said, mimicking him. “I think you meant ‘Pretty please follow me, Everly, oh glorious one.’”

  He glanced my way, one corner of his mouth lifted. “Glorious one?”

  I shrugged and tried not to be mesmerized by his presence, his sheer magnificence. This boy was my opponent. I wanted to join him after I met with Violet; he wanted me to stay behind. We were players in a zero-sum game, and only one of us could win. Remaining nonmesmerized mattered.

  “Just repeating what your eyes are telling me,” I told him with a smirk.

  Slowly, languidly, that corner of his mouth lifted a little more, more, and I really wanted to be Snow White. The other side did the same. He displayed a heart-stopping, bone-melting, full-on megawatt smile, Prince Charming to the max. “I’m glad I dr—returned to help you.”

  Suddenly, breathing was a little more difficult. What had he stopped himself from saying?

  “Glorious one certainly fits
,” he said.

  “It does? I mean, of course it does.” Ignore the twinge of excitement.

  His hand flexed against mine, and he quickened our pace, effectively ending the conversation.

  So, I ventured down another path. “Why did you decide to return to help me all on your own?” We crested a sand dune, my boots flinging sand at his feet. No one else was out. There were footprints, though—right next to marks. “You’re a prince. Shouldn’t your guards be here protecting you?”

  “I’ve spent my life learning to defend an entire kingdom. I think I can handle a morning trek.”

  Dang it! His smugness made him cuter.

  “As for my reasons,” he said. “I’m a prince.”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” I muttered, earning one of those rare chuckles.

  We reached a wall of shimmering mist, cool to the touch and charged. Magical? Roth didn’t hesitate, just marched forward, dragging me behind him.

  He palmed a sword with his free hand. “Get ready,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We exited the mist and entered a whole new world.

  10

  The worst is done.

  Let’s have some fun.

  Roth watched me as I gawked.

  A great crowd stretched before us, people and creatures milling together in a courtyard desert market, almost everyone dressed in a rainbow of colors, with jewel-tone scarves, bright tunics, braided belts and sandals made of rope.

  Sellers peddled everything from meteorites, fried meats, fruits, weapons and cloth. A vast number of aromas would have overwhelmed my senses, if I hadn’t sifted through them, pinpointing individual notes. Leather. Poultry. Basil. Lemon. Roses. Copper. Sweat. Some kind of musk.

  Two centaurs galloped between vendors, laughing as they brandished spears, sending people running. Protests rang out, a cacophony of voices creating a soundtrack of chaos. Emaciated children covered in sand raced about, stealing food. Armed guards gave chase. Trolls roamed in packs. Mothers gathered their children close. Fathers retained a tight grip on dagger hilts.