Stolen Princess

by Nikki Jefford

  My sister gave me a warm smile when she stepped forward for her lesson. She fisted the handle near the blade.

  I winced inwardly. Okay, Aerith was badass with a bow—not so much with a sword. I wasn’t even sure why she was so intent on learning to wield a blade when it was clear from her expression she didn’t enjoy swordplay. It wasn’t the same as when she shot an arrow from her bow and a look of calm confidence washed over her features.

  Keerla advanced on Aerith, sword at her side. My sister stood in a wide-legged stance, watching the approaching female elf intently.

  Several feet in front of Aerith, Keerla stopped, dropped her gaze, and stared pointedly at Aerith’s grip. “You’re holding it wrong again.”

  Aerith, for her part, didn’t take her eyes off Keerla.

  “Right,” she said, repositioning her grip so it was centered on the true handle. The sword lowered slightly as though it had grown heavier in her hand.

  My jaw relaxed.

  Good to see there were no hard feelings between past competitors. If Keerla had wanted, she could have knocked Aerith’s sword out of her hand. But Keerla wasn’t a pit head. If anything, she and Aerith had formed an almost instant friendship.

  I stuck around the meadow, practicing swinging my sword, and glanced over at Aerith’s progress every so often, trying to not let it go to my head that I was so much better than my big sis. Aerith could still whoop my ass with a bow and arrow, and I wasn’t too proud to admit it.

  At the end of their practice, Aerith invited Keerla for sweetberry tea at our cottage.

  “Make it sweetberry wine and I’ll throw in an extra half hour lesson at no charge next time.”

  Aerith snorted and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. “You think I want to hold a sword longer than I have to?”

  “You don’t have to at all,” Keerla pointed out. She fell into step beside Aerith, walking across the meadow with her toward our cottage. I ambled a couple feet behind them.

  “I should know how,” Aerith said.

  Keerla’s voice changed into a teasing tone she only ever used with Aerith. “I would think you’d already know plenty about handling a sword.”

  She and Aerith laughed then abruptly stopped to look over their shoulders at me. They turned forward again, missing the roll of my eyes. Like I didn’t know what they were implying. Ew! I liked my sword sharp and pointy, thank you very much. And I wanted to be the one thrusting it.

  “What about you, Keerla? Meet any nice males here in Pinemist?” Aerith asked.

  Since I couldn’t see Keerla’s facial expression, I stared at her back. She had wispy, long brown hair that was pulled back at her temples and braided into a long, thin tail over the rest of her hair. She wore a short skirt and leather boots so tall they almost looked like pants. On top, she had on a skintight earthy green tank top cinched in the middle with some kind of special armor that seemed to have been designed to fit her torso like bark on a tree. Her arms, like her legs, were covered in tight fabric.

  “Nah,” Keerla said in answer to Aerith’s question. “I have more important things to do than getting kissy faced.”

  Yes! If only she could convince Aerith to do the same. We were badass warrior elves. No room for males in our happy trio. Cirrus had stolen my sister from me. Jhaeros wanted to do the same. Greedy bastards. I bet Jhaeros wanted Aerith to stay home hosting tea parties and behaving like a proper mate to him. There would be no more swordplay in the fields or laughing with friends. I’d seen what happened after Aerith married Cirrus. I hadn’t been allowed to visit her. I didn’t want to lose her again.

  Dark clouds clogged my mind until laughter broke through.

  “Besides, I have all the swords I can handle,” Keerla said.

  She and Aerith laughed again. This time they didn’t look back, almost as though they’d forgotten me traipsing after them.

  “I’d ask you the same,” Keerla said to my sister, “but I’m sure you’re ready to lay down the sword, so to speak. Once was likely enough.”

  Aerith cleared her throat. “Actually—”

  “No!” Keerla said, turning to her. “Don’t tell me you’re sweet on someone?”

  “Well, yes, in fact, I am.”

  My nose wrinkled, and my tongue lulled out of my mouth as though I’d swallowed a bug. Things between my sister and Jhaeros were moving much too fast, and nothing I said seemed to get through to her.

  “Someone in Pinemist?” Keerla asked.

  “His name is Jhaeros.”

  “It’s a strong name. Did you know him before you were taken to Faerie?”

  “Yes,” Aerith answered slowly.

  “Were you sweethearts before?”

  Aerith’s next answer took even longer. “No. Not even close.”

  “We’ll talk more over sweetberry wine,” Keerla said.

  I slowed my steps, letting them get ahead. Fisting the sword handle, I stabbed at the mossy ground every few feet.

  I really didn’t want to think about my sister and Jhaeros. When she’d taunted me about his tongue, it had led to images of the two of them getting kissy, which then led to disturbing daydreams of Jhaeros kissing me! And the more I didn’t want to imagine it, the more I did. “Mmm, mmm. Melarue,” his stupid mouth had moaned in my head. “Mmm.” Ew! Ick! Barf in my mouth!

  I’d finally managed to scrub him from my brain and pretend like he didn’t exist. Once we’d moved into the cottage, I’d hoped Aerith would settle in and decide she didn’t need Jhaeros after all. I mean, we had good money coming in thanks to the sales her contact was making. Our cottage was super cute and ideal for two sisters. We each had our own room. There was a little kitchen with a window overlooking the meadow, a snug dining space, and a cozy living room with a reading nook we’d piled with thick pillows and soft blankets.

  We’d mounted wooden pegs into the wall beside the door where we set our swords on display. It was our own happy space and a chance to make up for the fifteen months I’d lost my sister to Prince Cirrus and his stupid Fae family in Dahlquist.

  Inside the kitchen, Aerith pulled out two shimmery wineglasses. Gold specks glittered inside them.

  “Mel, you want a little sweetberry wine?” Aerith asked.

  “No, thanks,” I answered as I set my sword in the mount below my sister’s.

  “Tea?” Aerith tried.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  She poured rosy-colored wine into the glasses and brought them into the living room, setting them onto gold threaded coasters on top of an old trunk with a flat top that served as a small table.

  Keerla took a seat in an armchair upholstered in purple fabric with a dark gray fleur-de-lis pattern. Aerith grabbed a charcoal-colored blanket from a stack in our alcove and offered it to Keerla, but the warrior elf shook her head.

  “Thanks, I’m fine.”

  Aerith kept the blanket, tucking it over her legs when she sat on the sofa. They lifted their glasses in salute and tipped them back while I retreated to my room, closing the door behind me. I wasn’t sticking around to listen to my sister gush over lame ass Jhaeros. Aerith said he’d invited me to live with them. I had my own room, thank you very much. Plus, I bet he was the disciplinary type who would try to father me. Oh hell no!

  Our bedrooms had no windows, so I called forth a small spark of light to my fingertips and lifted them in front of me, making sure I didn’t trip over anything as I walked to the center of my small, dark room.

  My bed was pushed against the cooler outer wall. My body temperature tended to run hot, which my elemental instructor, Master Brygwyn, said was normal for an elf with fire magic.

  Small throw pillows covered my bed because lying on top of a bed of pillows never got old. A dresser and an armoire were pushed up against the opposite wall. Beside my bed, I had a narrow vanity with a mirror above it. The vanity housed my hair combs and brushes. My father’s cigar box was currently holding my hairpins, ties, and barrettes.

  I walked over to the vani
ty so I could watch my fire magic in the reflection of the mirror. Aerith didn’t want me practicing inside, but unless something caught fire, my flames produced no odor, which came in way handy.

  I held my right hand up in front of the mirror and willed the rippling threadlike flames to circle my fingers. When the flames obeyed, I nearly let out a loud “whoop!” I clamped my mouth shut quickly before I gave Aerith any reason to rush in and check on me.

  Concentrating on the flames in the mirror’s reflection, I instructed them to spread up my hand, forming a fiery glove. I lifted my left hand and touched the tips of my fingers, igniting flames to my other fingers. Both hands now danced with fire. “Wicked,” I breathed, staring at myself in the mirror.

  I backed up, careful not to touch or bump into anything, which tended to be problematic when I had live flames on my fingers. I moved my hands around slowly, watching the flashes of light in the dark. I allowed the flames to travel up my arms to my elbows, then practiced bringing them back down, making sure I maintained control.

  I lost track of time until there was a knock at the door. Startled, I extinguished the flames entirely. Good thing, too, because Aerith walked in before I gave her permission to enter.

  Soft light spilled in from the small hallway.

  “What are you doing in the dark?” my sister asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Mel, were you practicing magic?” Aerith pressed in a chiding voice.

  “I was resting,” I said defensively.

  “You? Resting? In the middle of the afternoon,” Aerith said with disbelief. I couldn’t see her expression very well with the dim light at her back. She looked more like a shadowy figure peering into my room.

  “Keerla pushed me hard today,” I answered.

  “Okay, well, I need to run a quick errand before supper. Think you can hold down the fort—without burning it to the ground?” she added wryly.

  I stepped toward the doorway. “Where are you going?”

  “To collect payment from my contact.”

  “Why won’t you tell me his name?”

  “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  I put one hand on my hip. “Because why?”

  Aerith sighed in exasperation. “Mel, please just stay here and try to keep out of trouble. You know what would be even better? If you get the stew started.”

  “I might burn it if you’re not around to help supervise,” I said moodily. She always expected me to wait around at the cottage while she went out and did the fun stuff.

  “Then wait for me, and we’ll make it together once I return,” Aerith said.

  “Or I could come with you.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Fine.” I’ll follow you then. I smiled as the thought entered my brain.

  Aerith narrowed her eyes. “No going through my things while I’m gone either.”

  “I promise,” I said, lifting both my hands.

  Aerith frowned. “Believe me when I tell you there is nothing fun about this errand. Once I collect our coins, I’m headed straight back. The male is a total pit head.” She scowled.

  Aerith sounded a little too eager to keep me from meeting this elusive elf, and it made me want to know why.

  “Okay,” I said with a nod. “No fires and no treasure hunts. I promise.” I stood up tall and serious.

  “Thanks, Mel,” Aerith said, her tone gentling. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Okay.”

  I left my door open, listening as Aerith put on her cloak and rustled across the living room.

  “See you in a jiff,” she called from the doorway.

  “See ya,” I hollered back.

  As soon as the front door snicked shut, I fished out my green cloak, which blended well with the surrounding greenery in Pinemist, and yanked it over my shoulders, pulling the hood over my head and wild red tresses.

  I hurried out the front door, following Aerith from a distance as she headed south toward Brightwhisk Forest. Was she meeting her contact in the woods? This was getting more interesting by the minute.

  Thank Sky Mother she hadn’t headed into the neighborhoods, which would have offered me little cover. Her chosen route followed patches of woods from which I could duck behind trees and shrubs, peeking at the trail of long blonde hair moving south.

  I followed Aerith to the edge of town to an open area of crude, mud cottages. Elves in tattered clothes cooked outdoors over open fires. My mouth gaped open. I’d never seen this side of Pinemist before—hadn’t known it existed.

  I nearly lost sight of my sister as I gawked at the lopsided dwellings and families hunched around their fires outdoors.

  Aerith moved with so much intention I doubted she’d look back and notice me, but to be safe, I pulled the hood of my cloak down lower over my forehead.

  She passed the dwellings until there was only one cottage left. I began to suspect she really was meeting someone in the woods when she slowed at the final cottage and disappeared around its other side.

  I jogged over, coming to a halt near the outer circular wall. Small step by small step, I inched my way around the structure. The sound of arguing halted me in my tracks.

  “What do you mean you have nothing for me?” Aerith demanded.

  “I had other business to attend to, Princess, so I didn’t get a chance to make the rounds,” a deep male voice rumbled.

  I couldn’t make out the next part, so I hunched down and moved in closer until I could hear them clearly.

  “I’m going to market tomorrow. I’ll fetch you your coin then,” the male said.

  “And your coin,” Aerith huffed. “Lest you forget.”

  “Hey, I don’t run a charity for princesses, in case you’ve forgotten,” the male shot back.

  My cheeks heated in outrage and sparks nearly erupted from my fingertips. Oh, yes, he was most definitely a pit head as Aerith had warned. I had to get a look at the snake.

  Making my way back around to the opposite side of the hut, I looked at the surrounding woods until I spotted a good place to dive in between a tree and a shrub. I pushed through the foliage, making my way along the edge of the forest until I was facing the front of the male’s cottage. I saw the back of Aerith first, her beautiful blonde hair nearly reaching her backside.

  Then I saw him.

  And he was so dang cute, which seriously sucked given his sour mouth.

  I’d expected a male in tattered clothes like the elves outside the huts, but his trousers were clean and tidy, hugging his hips—a perfect fit. Strong arms hung from a fitted tunic. And then there was his face. He had a strong jawline, a lean, elegant nose, unblemished, slightly tanned skin, and beautiful brown eyes. His light brown hair was neatly styled, cropped close on the sides while thicker at the top.

  I fixated on his lips, which were moving, but I no longer cared what they were saying. I just wanted to kiss him, and that thought wasn’t even punctuated with an “ew.” More like a “yum.”

  I shook my head to try to clear it. “Get a grip, Mel,” I whispered to myself, eyes still trained on the handsome elf. “He’s trouble.”

  Then again, so was I.

  I locked him in my gaze, memorizing all of his features before backing up into the woods. I pushed branches out of my way and hopped over tree roots, hurrying home before Aerith realized I’d left.

  Tomorrow, I’d go to market. It wasn’t stalking. I just wanted to make sure Errand Boy here got the job done. I wasn’t going to let him get away with giving my sister lip. Someone needed to put the pit head back in his place.

  And that someone was me.

  Mel.

  Pit buster.

  If Sweet Lips didn’t watch his mouth, he was going to get burned.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Melarue

  The bright flame of my lantern lit up the mirror above the vanity and my red tresses as I brushed my hair the following morning. When I took extra ti
me to brush my hair thoroughly, it looked thick and shiny.

  I smiled at myself in the mirror, lifting my chin to admire my strong pose, which expressed self-confidence and spirit.

  I donned snug pants that my tall boots fit over and a fresh white blouse with my brown leather stomach cincher tied securely but not too tightly. I wasn’t into the corset look or lack of oxygen. Outfit complete, I pulled out my favorite long fitted blue coat with gold trim. The coat was far more beautiful than any dress. Wearing it made me instantly feel elegant, but in a “better not mess with me” kind of way.

  I extinguished the flame on my lantern and stepped out to the kitchen where Aerith was mashing something inside a large pottery bowl. She wore a pink apron with blue polka dots and a ruffled hem. At my approach, she glanced up from her mashing and blew some loose strands of hair out of her face.

  “Are you headed somewhere? I’m making banana pancakes with sweetberry syrup.”

  Mmm, that sounded good, but it would take a while before they were ready from the looks of it. “No, thanks. I’m going to check out the market.”

  “Do you need something?” Aerith asked as she added a dash of vanilla extract to her bowl of mashed banana.

  “I want to stretch my legs.”

  “We can stretch them together in the meadow after pancakes.”

  I wrinkled my nose. Even if I weren’t on a mission, that offer didn’t tempt me much—beyond the pancakes. I groaned. “I’m tired of the meadow. We train there all the time. I want a change of scenery. I want to be around some of the hustle and bustle.”

  Aerith looked up from the bowl and stared at me a moment before sighing. “I suppose the tranquility gets rather dull. How long will you be gone?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I’ll get bored at the market and head right back.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, finish making your pancakes,” I said. “If you want to be really nice, save me some.”

  “I’m always nice when it comes to you,” Aerith huffed.

  “Good, so I’ll look forward to those pancakes when I return.” I skipped to the front door, several coins jingling in my coat pocket. “See ya, sista,” I called behind me.