by May Dawson
“I told you before that I wished things were different,” he said. “Now we both will.”
He nodded goodnight to me and closed the door.
I knew it wasn’t locked, but the room still felt like a cell.
Or maybe it was being inside the princess Alisa that felt like a prison.
Maybe whoever took my memories and shoved me through that portal had been committing an act of mercy.
Chapter Eleven
Duncan
Seven Years Earlier
Over the next few months, Alisa and I developed a strange friendship. I’d always felt as if I were an outsider, but she was so charming that she won over the other first-years. She always seemed to be at the center of things, with some bit of mischief or a joke, with a plan to beat the ridiculous tests or a quick one-liner that softened everyone’s tension.
And she pulled me into the center with her. No one seemed to mind my stony silence. At first, I was the straight man to balance her quick wit as she flitted around me. But as time passed, I found myself joking with her too, then with the other students. When I made her laugh, something broke loose inside me. The other students joked back with me, surprising me, and I found myself with tentative bonds to others as well.
And after a while, our friendship didn’t even seem strange.
Just before winter solstice, I noticed Rowen as well—really noticed her.
When Alisa threw herself down on my bed that afternoon after combat training, I closed the door and checked that it was locked to give us a moment’s privacy if my roommate arrived. Then I grabbed her calves and dragged her wet boots off my blankets.
“You’re absolutely fucking savage, you know that, sunshine?” I asked her.
I couldn’t stand to call her Faer, knowing she had so little in common with her faithless, lazy twin. I didn’t dare her call Alisa, even when it was just the two of us. If I slipped in front of someone, I’d accidentally betray her.
So I called her sunshine. To everyone else—Alisa included—the nickname sounded like mockery of the summer court, and that suited me just fine.
But she had brought the sunshine into my life, not that I’d tell her anything so stupid.
She just rolled onto her back, cocking one arm under her head. She was chewing on an apple, and she tossed the other shiny red fruit in her hand to me. I caught it against my chest; we weren’t supposed to have food outside the meager meals served in the dining hall, but somehow Alisa always seemed to have something stolen from the kitchen, something destined for the instructors’ table.
“You could take my boots off for me,” she said.
I scoffed at that. “As much as the summer court wants more symbols of my father’s allegiance, I don’t think I’m quite ready to be your personal servant.”
“You could even rub my feet,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard. Alisa often didn’t care to hear what other people said, if it didn’t suit her purposes. Then she sat up on her elbows and looked at me consideringly. “What if I held the summer throne? Could you be loyal to me, Duncan?”
I decided to eat my apple instead of answering that.
My heart cried out that of course I could be loyal to the bright-eyed girl who looked at me with that smile across her lush lips.
But I was a prince, and princes don’t have any right to listen to their hearts.
“We could form our own alliance,” she said softly. “Forget our fathers and their foolish plans.”
“Are you really trying to plan treason before supper?” I asked, my voice a lazy drawl despite how my heart had begun to beat faster.
What if there could be a future for us besides waiting for our fathers’ war to end—most likely when they died?
“Is it really treason if my father doesn’t deserve to be high king of the four kingdoms?”
“Yes,” I said dryly. “Still treason.”
“You don’t trust me? Didn’t I get us all out of that awful mud labyrinth?” She shuddered. “Why do you think our people just love miserable mazes so much?”
“There’s a slight difference between beating a test here at the academy and defeating your own father and his armies.”
“Only a little one. Have some faith, Duncan.” She chewed her apple contemplatively. “Anyway, I don’t plan to best him with armies. I don’t intend to win a war, because I don’t intend to fight one.”
“You’re monologuing again,” I said. She had a tendency to do that.
She pulled a face. “Perhaps I’m not ready to discuss my plans yet.”
“You know who you might want to recruit for your rebel army?” I asked, glancing at the door. I’d closed it for a reason.
“You, of course,” she said, giving me a dazzling smile. “I’d never be content without you at my side, Duncan.”
My heart lurched rebelliously at those words, even though she was only teasing. I knew I shouldn’t take anything she said too seriously. Before we could go too far down this dangerous road, I should bring up the subject that I’d closed the door for.
“Rowen,” I added steadily.
“Why Rowen? He’s nice enough, a bit boring, stiff—”
“She’s probably a bit more intent on blending than you are,” I agreed. “You certainly do not blend.”
Alisa’s brows drew together as she pondered.
“How many of you are there?” I asked. “I don’t even want to be here, but now I have to wonder if dozens of female Fae have infiltrated the academy because it’s somehow intriguing to you all—”
Alisa sat up hurriedly, dropping the apple core on the ground.
I scooped her trash up and carried both our cores to the bin in the corner, where I crumpled them in my hands, letting them decay between my fingers so nothing but dust fell among the papers. Alisa had the grand plans and the light fingers; I went behind us, covering our tracks.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I turned away from the trash can to give her a dark look, before crossing my arms and leaning against the door.
“Okay, you’re sure,” she said with a laugh. “I would never doubt you, Duncan.”
Those easy charming words fell from her lips like rain with everyone. I shouldn’t think they meant anything.
“I’ll talk to her. I’m curious why she’s here.” She tilted her head to one side, studying me.
I joined her on the bed, throwing myself onto the quilt. I dragged my book into my lap, determined to ignore that questioning gaze.
And yet, I didn’t want her to leave my room yet either. I never wanted her to leave, though I’d never ask her to stay.
I never saw her and Az betray the slightest hint of anything untoward in their relationship. No lingering gazes, no little smiles. They played their parts perfectly: the brusque and often exasperated senior, the mischievous and lazy first-year.
Somehow though, I was sure the two of them had fallen in love.
Maybe it was just impossible to imagine anyone being close to Alisa, knowing her secrets, and not falling in love with her.
“Why have you kept my secret?” she asked. “Even before we were friends.”
“We live in a world built of stupid rules.” Rules about how princes and princesses had to act, about high Fae and low Fae, about manners and marriage, loyalty and love. Our rules and vows were sealed with magic, and the magic itself took its revenge if we broke them. “If you were an autumn royal, you’d be training to fight alongside us at home. It’s only to please the summer court that female royals aren’t allowed here, anyway.”
The smile that crossed her lips now was a familiar, dangerous one; she had the scent, and she was hunting for a particular answer. I loved watching her outsmart other people; I didn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end of that predatorial mischief.
“Do you wish I were an autumn royal?” she asked.
“I’d like to be back in the autumn court myself,” I said. “Or what’s left of it.”
“Oh yes, we�
��re supposed to be enemies,” she said, as if she’d almost forgotten. As if either of us ever forgot the fragile peace between our kingdoms, as long as my father pledged his allegiance to Herrick.
She rested her hand on my knee. “You and I aren’t very good at being enemies though, are we?”
I took her hand gently in mine. “Maybe not.”
She was smiling at me just before I dropped her hand in her own lap.
“I know Azrael quite well, and I promise you, he has never shared his toys,” I warned her.
“It’s a good thing I’m not a toy.”
I decided to just say what I should: “I don’t like you in that way.”
Her grin crinkled the corners of her eyes. “And I don’t like how bad you are at lying. You’re going to have to make some improvements if you’re ever going to keep up with me, Duncan.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Oh?” She suddenly dove at me, her hands wrapping my shoulders and shoving me down to the bed. She surprised me enough that she almost pinned me, but I wrapped my leg around her waist and dragged her with me.
The two of us slammed into the floor. She was beneath me, and her breath huffed out of her lungs. She was already fighting me for control, though, and the two of us rolled across the hardwood floor, both of us trying to get the upper hand.
I felt sorry I’d landed on her, but all I said was, “You’re too small to make a good cushion.”
“And you’re too weak to kiss me.” Her words were cruel, but her eyes were twinkling.
I should tell her again that I didn’t want to. But she was staring up at me with a challenge in her gaze and her pink lips turned up at the edges, and she was right: I was a terrible liar.
“If I ever kiss you, it won’t be because you baited me into it,” I said. “It will be when I choose.”
“Why?” She ran her hand up my arm, across my shoulder, and even though the fabric, her touch raised heat flaming along my skin. “You were looking at me a moment ago as if you wanted to kiss me. As if you wanted to… devour me.”
“I don’t plan to eat you,” I said with a frown.
“Well, that’s a pity,” she said with a laugh, then said, “That’s not what I meant anyway, though. You just look at me as if you want—”
I couldn’t stand to hear her, if she was going to say what I felt. The way I wanted her was a reckless thing breaking loose in my chest, as if some part of me had been chained up since I was a child, maybe since my mother first began her long, slow passage toward death.
I cupped her mouth. “I don’t want to be yet another one of your little games. And if we’re going to be friends, you need to stop.”
She frowned, and I took away my hand. The playful mood between us had melted away, and I sat up, resting my back against the bed frame behind me. She sat up too, leaning against the bed across from me. Our knees were parallel, so close we were almost touching.
“I’d never play a game with you,” she told me.
I scoffed at that. “You literally stole all my clothes when we went swimming.”
The first-year students liked to sneak out to the lake at the edge of the academy, where we heated our bodies enough to swim in the icy-cold water. The instructors turned a blind eye, perhaps because those shenanigans forced us to master our heat spells. It was a test of will and power for us all, seeing who would last the longest.
Alisa always won, except for the time she’d shivered dramatically before she climbed out…so she could steal my trousers. She was ever delightful.
“There’s a bit of a difference,” she said. “You know what I mean.”
I shook my head. “You’re the queen of tricks. You’re never boring.”
But she was right; I couldn’t keep up. The way I felt for Alisa was heavy as a stone; I’d never be light and tricksome like she was. I couldn’t kiss her and not mean anything, and she might kiss me and not care.
“Neither are you,” she said, still frowning.
The air between us felt thick.
The sound of a key at the door made my heart hammer, but we weren’t doing anything wrong. The next second, the door opened, and my senior, Arrel, walked in. He took the two of us in, pushing back his blond hair with one hand.
“Lazing about as usual, Faer?” he said, his tone dismissive. “I’m sure Az is looking for you.”
She jumped to her feet. “Right. Shoes to polish. Errands to run. Exciting stuff.”
“He’s trying to keep you busy and out of trouble, for all the good it does.” Arrel frowned at me, even though he was talking to Alisa.
“We were studying,” I said, patting the book on my bed.
“Mm.” Arrel wasn’t a fool, and ‘Faer’ was infamous for being both bright and lazy, but he let that pass. I’d gotten lucky; he was a good man to have as my roommate and my senior. He cut his eyes toward Faer. “At least take the night off from corrupting Duncan? Run along.”
“I’m going,” she said, walking backward toward the door. “You’re absolutely right. Azrael always needs me.”
She said it as a joke, as if our seniors were weak for having us do their chores.
But it was the truth: Azrael did need her.
After all his years of trying to shelter Zora and me, he deserved some happiness.
That truth felt like a lump in my throat, but I swallowed it anyway.
Chapter Twelve
Alisa
Present Day
I woke that night to a scream that echoed through the hall. I sat bolt upright, and as it echoed through the hall again, I could hear Azrael’s voice.
Azrael’s voice, full of pain and fear.
I was on my feet in a second. I ran out into the hall, half-expecting some kind of monster. We were alone in the visitor’s wing, and it was eerily silent. No one else was around.
No one except Duncan, who banged out of his room. He stopped abruptly when he saw me, and glared. He went ahead to Azrael’s cell.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
He stopped, knitting his arms over his chest. “It’s just Azrael’s nightmares. We don’t need you for this, Alisa.”
His tone implied they didn’t need me for anything.
“Azrael has nightmares?” I repeated, knowing I sounded foolish but trying to process what he’d just said. He’d spoken as if I should have known.
“He dreams about the autumn court.” Duncan’s voice was cold and unforgiving. “Every goddamn night.”
Azrael’s voice cried out again. I pushed past Duncan. Well, really, I pushed into a wall of muscle and I kind of bounced off and I went around him. I wasn’t going to leave Azrael in pain alone. There had to be something we could do to help.
Duncan grabbed my arm, his fingers curling deep into my bicep. “He doesn’t need you.”
I tried to yank out of his grip, looking up at him. My eyes narrowed, meeting his hateful glare. “I know you think I’m a monster. But there must have been a reason. I didn’t just give my father the key.”
He cursed at me. I yanked free, suddenly willing to break his nose if that was what I needed to do to get loose. His touch burned on my skin, and I was ready to murder him for daring to touch me when he was angry.
“You won’t make things better,” he warned me. “You never have.”
“Shut up, Duncan.” I left him behind, closing the door to Azrael’s room behind me, harder than I meant to.
But Azrael didn’t wake.
He lay in a sleeping bag, one arm thrust out of the top, his head pillowed on his broad bicep. Even in sleep, he looked tortured.
“Azrael, wake up,” I murmured, sitting on the side of his bed. “It’s just a dream.”
His eyes moved rapidly under his lids. He wasn’t screaming anymore, but his lips had peeled back from his teeth into a grimace.
I perched on the edge of the bed, studying him and murmuring any comforting words I could think of. His panic made my own heart gallop. When nothing I said woke him, I
reached out and shook his arm.
He bolted upright suddenly, his wide, wild eyes meeting mine, and something tore through my heart.
“It’s just a dream,” I repeated. I was still touching his shoulder, so I patted it gently.
“It’s not,” he said, pulling back away from me. “It’s real. It all really happened.”
Hurt washed over me at the way he’d yanked from my touch. But I tried to press it down; my feelings didn’t matter.
“I know, but it’s not happening now,” I corrected. I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Azrael. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” he said, giving me an unconvincing smile. “It’s all right. Go back to bed.”
I hesitated. He put his head down in his hands, and the room was silent--but far from peaceful.
After a moment, he threw the blankets away from his body and stumbled across the narrow room. He paced the two steps between the bed and wall a few times, reminding me of a wounded animal when he turned. He ran his fingers through his hair. There was nowhere to pace in here, nowhere to go.
I had the feeling he felt this trapped every night, asleep or awake.
“Azrael,” I began.
When his wild eyes met mine, I almost jumped back. But his voice came out low and controlled when he demanded, “God damn it, Alisa, give me some space. Do I have to wake up from the nightmares you caused, to your face, and still try to be kind to you?”
Those words shocked me to my core. They must have shocked him too, because his face instantly softened, as if he regretted it. His lips parted as if he was trying to decide what to say next.
“I was just trying to make things…” I paused, because I couldn’t make things better. I couldn’t bring back the autumn court.
“You were just trying to make yourself feel better.” He rubbed his hand over his face, staring into the mirror above the table, even though the room was dim. “I’m familiar with the phenomenon. Well, I can’t change what I did, and you can’t change what you did.”
