by M. D. Laird
Prince Thomas shook his head. “We need to read the blasted thing. Three-quarters of the Crown Alliance are not even demons, and they know more about the Michælis than we do.”
“They have a librarian. Calab probably knows it by heart.”
“They are good at exploiting loopholes,” said Eleanor, “and if they are unsure, they just accuse people of treason and then they are covered.”
Prince Nathaniel laughed. “Don’t you have a sharp tongue?” he said, winking at her.
“Yes, and you don’t need to say what it is that you’re thinking.”
Prince Thomas laughed, and Prince Nathaniel raised his hands in mock confusion. “I have no idea what you mean,” he replied, grinning.
“I’m sure,” said Eleanor. “Why this talk of exploiting loopholes and spying on my father? Are you planning to kill him?”
Prince Nathaniel looked unsure of how to answer and cast a glance towards Prince Thomas. “I’m looking into it,” said Prince Thomas. “I’m looking to see if there is a way of taking him out that doesn’t breach my decree. He is playing me, and I am less than thrilled about that.”
“You want your father dead, Eleanor?” asked Prince Nathaniel. “May I call you Eleanor?”
“Yes and yes,” replied Eleanor. “If I could get close enough to him I would take him out myself.”
“You are not what I expected from a princess, Eleanor. I was appalled when Thomas informed me he had taken a wife, but now… Well, if I could feel envy I would.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Prince Nathaniel.”
“Call me Nathaniel.”
Prince Thomas frowned and sipped his wine before ringing the bell for the second course. Eleanor felt a little guilty for allowing Nathaniel to flirt with her. She gave Prince Thomas a smile, and he returned it.
“Nathaniel seems nice,” said Eleanor to Prince Thomas as they walked to their rooms. “He is flirtatious, though. I shouldn’t have let him flirt with me like that.”
“You seem to get along with him easier than you get along with me. And you’re on first name terms.”
She frowned. “Are you jealous?”
“I can’t feel jealousy. It’s an observation.”
“Well,” she said, slipping her arm in his. “We got off to an awkward start, but I think we’re making progress. Perhaps we should be on first name terms. We are married after all.”
He shook his head at her. “I’d rather not,” he said as they stopped outside their bedrooms. She nodded. “Goodnight, Princess.”
He turned to his door, and Eleanor caught his hand. He had stayed in her bedroom the last two nights, and she did not want to be alone.
“Stay with me,” she asked him.
The prince looked exasperated. “I don’t mean to be difficult, but I have needs and all this cuddling me and touching me and kissing me in your sleep… Well, it’s taunting me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said dejectedly. “Goodnight, Prince.”
They entered their separate rooms, and Eleanor immediately felt lonely without the prince. She had woken in his arms the last two mornings and had savoured the closeness and the safety she had felt in those arms. She had dreamt about him and woke to find herself kissing him on many occasions over the two nights. The first night she had mistaken him for James and had been overcome with tears. The second night she dreamt about kissing the prince.
She felt confused. Her emotions were everywhere. Perhaps some distraction was just what she needed. The prince was her husband after all. She turned back to the door.
Will I regret this?
She didn’t know if she would or not. She left her room and knocked on the prince’s door.
He answered the door, but he did not speak. He appeared to be trying to figure out her intentions or trying to sense her motivation. She took a deep breath and told herself to be confident before stepping forward, closing the door, and slipping her hands around Prince Thomas’ waist. She slid her hands up his back and over his shoulders. Her hands roamed to the nape of his neck, and she pulled him towards her.
“You won’t hurt me?” she asked nervously.
The prince shook his head, still eyeing her curiously, his restrained excitement darkening his expression. She pulled him closer, and her lips met his. The prince had held his arms at his sides, and now, sure of her intentions, he grasped her body. His kiss was gentle, but his lips were hot and intense. Eleanor felt her excitement rise as his skin burned hers. He moved his mouth to her neck and placed soft kisses on her throat before nibbling at her ear. She gasped. She wanted more. She wanted him. She pulled him tight against her and grasped his hair in her fingers. He snarled, and her excitement thundered through her.
The prince guided her to lie on his bed, and he lowered himself to her side. He continued to kiss her neck, and she moaned at his touch. He lifted her skirts and slid his clawed hands along her thigh. She moaned again. In that moment, she understood why many coveted the companionship of demons. She didn’t know if it was the heat of his body pressing against her own or his talons dangerously caressing her skin, but his touch made her head spin as she forgot everything that had happened in the last few days. She forgot everything that had happened in her whole life. She was utterly consumed with her need for him.
Prince Thomas, sensing her eagerness, growled in response. He began to unfasten her dress at the front.
“Are you fond of this dress?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly.
“I will buy you another.” He used the claw of his index finger to tear the dress from her breasts to the top of her thighs and ripped the rest of it off with ease.
She gasped again as she felt the thrill of anticipation. She tore at his shirt and sent buttons scattering around the room.
“I liked this shirt,” he said, shrugging out of the remaining shreds of fabric.
“I will buy you another,” she said, pulling him on top of her and biting at his neck. The prince snarled ferociously. Eleanor groaned as she felt his breath on her neck. “I want you. Now.”
The prince’s cobalt eyes met hers and the hunger in them told her he was happy to oblige.
“It seems you were telling the truth, Prince Thomas.” Eleanor smirked as she lay in the prince’s arms.
“I told you I was good,” he replied arrogantly. “I wasn’t exaggerating.”
She laughed. “How modest you are.” She pulled herself closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his body. “I need to visit the rebels tomorrow. I need to inform them of James’ death and plan our next move. We ordered a shipment of weapons from the celan market, they should have arrived by now, I need to check on them and restart my training. I am going to kill Victor and my father.”
“What sort of weapons ha—” He stopped abruptly.
“Prince, what’s wrong?”
“Weapons…” he started. He shook his head. “I think I have just realised your father’s plan.”
“What is it?”
“Why didn’t I see it before?”
“Prince, tell me.”
“I need to see Nathaniel.”
“Prince—I need to know. What is it?”
“Get dressed,” he said. “We’ll take the vector to the Guild of Verrine. I will tell you on the way.”
Thomas and the princess dressed quickly and made their way out of the guild to the vector. They would probably arrive at the Guild of Verrine before Prince Nathaniel who was flying the distance. Thomas planned to look out for him and pick him up if they saw him.
He programmed the console, and the vector took to the air.
The princess looked at him impatiently. “Please, Prince. Tell me now.”
“Your father is trying to exploit ambiguities in my decree, so he can evict me from my guild,” he started. “The king has no powers to occupy the guild except in a few circumstances which were agreed when the decree was drawn up with Axandria many thousands
of years ago. If the first order prince harms or kills a nobleman, such as you or any of his men who he has declared noble, which is pretty much all of them, then my demons and I can be evicted from Axandria, and he can take over the guild. It was a rule to make sure demons didn’t target other lesser rulers to gain power. If I did and he learns that I have broken my decree, then he can use those powers.
“The clause was put in place to reassure the rulers that demons would not be a problem if we lived in their lands and if we were, then they could evict us. The rules don’t apply to second and third order demons as it is the job of the prince to keep them in line with discipline or send them to the high order princes if necessary. But if the first order prince commits the offence or orders the offence to be committed, then the rulers could lose faith in the decree and if they did, then they could remove all the demons from that order from their lands.
“It has never been invoked—we have stuck to our decree fastidiously, but the king is trying to invoke it. He married you to me in the hope that he could provoke me into attacking you. He knew that I was loyal to my decree, but assumed that I would break it if he sent his difficult, obnoxious daughter to try my patience. He sent his attendant every week to check on you and find evidence of breaches. When he was unsuccessful, he picked up James. He tried to provoke me that entire evening. He first revealed your affair and suggested I should punish you, he then hoped your distress would annoy me enough to whip you in his dungeon. When I didn’t, he tried to do it himself. He knew that if I punished you or allowed you to be punished, I would breach my decree.”
“Why does he want you to breach it?”
“Because he wants to evict us from Axandria.”
“Why?”
“Because he wants my guild.”
“What need has he for your guild? He has more territory than he knows what to do with.”
“There is one thing that a demon guild has that no other guild has.”
“What is that?”
“A dungeon full of adamantine.”
“What would he want with adamantine? He can’t do anything with it.”
Thomas smiled at her and said, “Do you know anything about angel blades?”
She frowned. “Yes,” she said. “What have angel blades got to do with your adamantine?”
“Heavenly blades are lethal; a stab wound from them is instantly fatal. No man or beast can survive an injury from such a blade. The metal is incredibly rare and can only be crafted in Heaven.”
“I know this, Prince. What I don’t know is what they have to do with your guild.”
Thomas grinned. “The blades have only one equal. Another metal that lines the dungeons of the demon guilds and forms chains to restrain even the strongest of magic and the most powerful of demons. A metal that burns to the touch and if a blade made from such a metal pierced the skin, it would cause instant death. Except there are no adamantine blades. Heaven has forbidden them. However, if someone not under the decree of Heaven was to come into a large store of adamantine, then they could make the most lethal arsenal of weapons in all Anaxagoras.”
The princess gulped. “My father wants to make weapons from the adamantine? Surely he can’t, he can’t craft it. It can only be crafted in Hell.”
“Yes,” said Thomas, “but there is a rumour of a very rare and ancient magic that can craft it. When Hell was first formed, there were nine high princes; however, when we allied with Heaven we were told there should only be seven as there are seven archangels in Heaven. The two high princes who were demoted to first order princes lost their power. But power cannot be created or destroyed, and it was rumoured that it must be stored somewhere, probably in Hell. It is so long ago that it was forgotten about and presumed to be a myth.”
“What is the power? Are you saying my father has it?”
“No, he doesn’t have it. The power gives the high prince the power to cause pain and suffering or heal if necessary, but it gives them the power of Creation.”
“Creation?”
“You know, to create lands, heavens, seas, life – you know what Creation is.”
“I’m still confused.”
“It is like advanced alchemy,” said Thomas. “They would require some matter in the first place to manipulate. For example, if they wanted to make adamantine shackles they would need some adamantine.”
“Are you saying that my father has access to this power and he wants you out of your guild so he can use the metal in your dungeon?”
“He has been trying to use me to get him access to the power. Well, he has made a weak attempt anyway; I think it was an excuse to offer me marriage to his daughter. I’m sure he has a more robust plan.”
“You mean it is the queen that has the magic? The power that Queen Genevieve has is that of a high prince?”
“Precisely.”
“How could she get it?”
“I have no idea.”
“You can’t ally her with my father.”
“I don’t intend to. I’ve been trying to find a way to stop him without breaching the decree.”
“You said there were originally nine high princes?”
“Yes, one for each circle.”
“So there must be another source of power stored somewhere?”
“It seems likely, though for someone to claim it and use it to its full potential they would have to be worthy of it.”
“Why was the queen worthy of it? Is she really a demon?”
“No, she’s not a demon. I don’t know why she is worthy; I don’t know the prophecy.”
“There is another issue with this magic.”
“What?”
“Heaven said you had to have seven rather than nine high princes as Heaven likes balance, right?”
“Yes.”
“There are only seven sources of archangel powers to counter the nine high prince powers if the queen uses the magic she is disrupting the balance.”
“No, it was never an opposing power given by Heaven to oppose the archangels. The two powers will be opposed elsewhere.”
“Where did it come from? If magic can’t be created, it must have been taken from somewhere.”
“It was taken from alchemists after the Fall. There used to be a higher frequency of powerful alchemists in Anaxagoras than there are now. When we fell, the high princes wanted power to rival the archangels and took power from the alchemists. The high princes are incredibly powerful—no one could take the magic from them now, but the other two powers were raw and unclaimed, and a worthy alchemist can take them. The queen’s enemies, or the Alchitch as she called them, tapped into the power somehow, but they did not have full access, and it was not loyal to them as it belonged to the queen. She is the alchemist destined to wield this particular source of power.”
“So the queen can craft adamantine, are you sure?”
“I have seen it with my own eyes. She broke shackles from my wrists and then repaired them.”
“Why did she have you in shackles?”
“I went to the Guild of the Crown to torment and blackmail her. The guards would only leave us to speak alone if I was chained.”
The princess rolled her eyes. “You should cease your blackmailing; we can’t have her ally with my father.”
“I already have. I haven’t told the queen about her magic, but she will know about it as she insisted on telling the fallen demon about it.”
“Fallen demon,” giggled the princess. “You should tell her of my father’s plans and then she could simply not do it. She has a guard, so there is probably no risk from her. We just have to stop him from getting his hands on your guild and to guarantee that, we need to remove him from the throne.”
“There is a risk. The queen is not strong yet, the magic could be taken from her as it was taken from the alchemists. And there is the additional source.”
“But you said that they would need to be worthy to wield it.”
/> “To its full extent, yes, but they might still craft adamantine with enough practice. It is too high a risk not to consider.”
“We should tell the queen. She can’t keep herself safe if she’s not aware of the danger.”
“I need to be careful not to breach my decree,” said Thomas. “If I tell her and she declares war on Axandria, then I will have caused a war.”
“I will tell her then.”
“It amounts to the same thing.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. I need more time.”
The princess nodded and turned to gaze out of the window and was immediately struck with horror.
“What?” asked the prince.
“The opal,” she said. “What if it’s not real?”
Prince Thomas’ eyes widened and his expression formed as close to fear as was possible for a demon. “Oh no,” he said. His face contorted with rage and Eleanor was struck with a nauseating terror. The prince snarled viciously at her and raised his clawed hands.
Eleanor panicked. “You’ll break your decree if you hurt me,” she said hurriedly.
His nostrils flared. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He growled. “I want to tear you father limb from limb.”
“It might be real,” she answered nervously.
“Let me check,” he barked, tearing at her dress.
Eleanor did not dare refuse. She raised her dress and grimaced as he used a claw to make a small incision in her stomach and hook out the small stone hidden beneath. He cleaned the stone on his jacket. Instead of a translucent opal stone, he’d found a turbid one.
“Moonstone,” he said. “What does that do?”
Eleanor held her hand to her mouth and choked back her panic, terrified to utter the words.
“WHAT DOES IT DO?” He shouted.
“It increases fertility,” she whispered, her body tensing as she prepared for the prince’s wrath.
The prince roared and threw the stone through the vector’s rear window, shattering it. Eleanor screamed and hid beneath her hands. The cold air rushed around her and thrummed painfully in her ears. She was relieved that the vector stayed in the air.
