Stolen Princess

by Nikki Jefford

  “Stay out of trouble,” Aerith half-scolded, half-pleaded as I slipped outside.

  Uh-huh. My philosophy was to be the trouble. Hardworking, well-intentioned elves like Aerith spent their lives trying to do the right thing, keeping trouble away, but trouble always had a way of finding them. If I caused trouble, at least it was on my own terms.

  Morning mist swallowed my ankles as I walked along the edge of the meadow. The usually vibrant green grounds were all puffy white and light gray. I kicked at the mist, willing it to part and make an open trail through the haze for me to walk through. That would have been nifty, but it wasn’t my element of control.

  Oh well. Fire was by far the coolest of all the elements. It could be used for light and heat—or as a weapon against an enemy.

  Not that we had any enemies in boring old Pinemist.

  I’d been so excited to leave Sweetbell that I’d forgotten how dull Pinemist had become the older I got.

  Aerith and I should take some of the coin from the sale of her jewelry and go on an adventure. It was the least she could do before settling down with Jhaeros and having his baby elves.

  I swung my leg harder through the mist.

  I could just picture them in their daily routine, all kissy behind closed doors and polite in public. They’d be patient yet firm with their children, and at the end of every evening, after tucking the little tykes in, they’d sit in silence playing a game of campaigne. And that would be that. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

  No, thanks. Not me!

  Just thinking about it made me want to pull my red hair right out of its roots.

  Aerith was still young. Only twenty-one. She owed herself an adventure—on her own terms. The Monster Ball didn’t count. It had only been one evening—one ruined by Jhaeros. It should have been an escape from everything familiar.

  Well, I was going to make sure we got the proper funds for the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe we could visit the mortal realms. Definitely not Faerie! But the human world could be loads of fun. I’d done my homework when it came to planet Earth—especially the paranormal element. They had cool supernaturals like shape-shifters, sirens, vampires, wizards, demons, and gargoyles. What did we have in the elven realm? Elves, of course. Ogres. Trolls. And some exiled Fae. Lame!

  In addition to wicked cool sups, the mortal realm had all kinds of sights I wanted to see and activities I wanted to try. Who needed wings when humans offered such wild, fun diversions as hang gliding?

  Back in boring Pinemist, elves crowded the streets as I approached the village green near town. The market took place the sixth day of the week. The square patch of grass sat atop a slight hill and was free of the fog that clung to the lower areas of Pinemist.

  Vendors were crammed together selling their wares from carts, tables, and small tents. Some laid out thick blankets over the grass and set out artwork, jewelry, carvings, and other curiosities on top of their rugs.

  The square was already bustling with activity. Arriving at the opening meant first pick of produce and fruits.

  I wound my way through the throng, edging my way back to the goods laid out from one stall to the next. I looked closely at the jewelry, searching for familiar pieces, but I had yet to see any of Aerith’s sparkling treasures from Faerie.

  The sweet smell of freshly baked bread grew strong, making my mouth water. A baker across the aisle pulled a fresh tray of sugared sweet buns from his portable brick oven. I pushed my way to the line. Someone shoved me from behind. I turned around and snarled, “Wait your turn,” to an adolescent male.

  Gray eyes glowered at me from beneath thick sandy-colored bangs. “You cut,” he whined.

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him, which shut him up, but only because he was trying not to cry. Tears glossed over his eyes. Oh, pitberries. I was just funning around. Now I felt like a total pit head.

  I was about to give the crybaby my spot when an older female in an outdated wool gown and graying hair hurried over.

  “Castien, what did I tell you? No sweets,” she admonished.

  The boy’s lower lip quivered as he stared up at the matriarch. “But it’s not sweets, Grandmammy. It’s bread.”

  “Sugared bread,” the female said, her nose squishing into her face as though the very smell of it offended her.

  What was her problem? Sugared bread was the best kind of bread!

  She grabbed the boy’s hand and yanked him from the line.

  “Next!” the baker hollered. I was still staring after the boy being led by his grandmammy to a produce stall when the baker barked out, “You, Red! What do you want?”

  I turned slowly and glared at him. He was lucky he had something I really wanted.

  “Two sugared buns,” I said in a clipped voice.

  I pulled a coin from my pocket and pushed heat into the metal through my fingers. The baker held out a meaty palm, which I dropped the hot coin onto.

  “Yowch!” he cried, dropping it to the ground.

  I forced a blank expression over my face, though laughter gurgled in my throat. I held out my hands and lifted my brows in impatience.

  With a grumble, the baker placed a sugared bun into each of my hands before bending over to pick up the coin, which had now cooled enough to be handled. He stood up and glared at me.

  I smiled back sweetly. “Nice doing biz with ya,” I said before whipping around and striding off.

  I watched Castien and his grandmammy carefully, waiting until the old female was preoccupied with commanding the produce vendor to sift through his vegetables and dig out the biggest, greenest, freshest of his harvest and pack it carefully in her woven basket.

  While her back was turned, I stepped up to Castien and held one of the buns out to him.

  He stared from the bun to me suspiciously.

  “Hurry up and take it before I change my mind,” I said.

  He snatched it from my hand with a glare.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, biting into the warm, chewy, sugared goodness. I nearly moaned in ecstasy.

  Castien still glared at me, not taking a bite. Did he have pits for brains? “You cut,” he accused again.

  For the love of sky, kids had such a stubborn hang-up of right and wrong, fair and unfair.

  I squatted down, so we were closer to eye level. “Yeah, well, you weren’t really a customer, so it doesn’t count, does it?”

  “You still cut,” he insisted.

  I straightened up and huffed. “Fine, I’m sorry I cut. Happy now?”

  Castien nodded and lifted the sweet bun to his lips. Once he’d ripped into it, he devoured the whole thing within seconds then set to work licking sugar off his fingers. “It’s important to say please, thank you, and sorry,” he told me.

  Great, I was receiving a lecture on manners from a mini elf.

  “Funny, I’m still waiting to hear a thank you.” I polished off my sweet bun, taking my time savoring each bite, unlike Mr. Manners here.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome,” I said and walked away, returning to the opposite aisle of goods.

  I brushed the sugar off my fingers and bumped shoulders with elves crowding in for a closer look at the trinkets lined up for purchase. I made my way down the aisle and into the next one, then the next, but nothing stood out.

  Had the snake even bothered to show up? What a sack of pits! Well, I knew where he lived now, and I intended to get enough coin to take an adventure with my sister. I’d sell the jewelry myself if this jerk couldn’t be bothered. Then we could pocket all the profits ourselves and take a trip sooner.

  Father had never wanted Aerith to sell our goods directly during the dark days after Mother’s death when we were scrimping to get by. He didn’t want our family to be seen as peddlers. But so what? Look at all these vendors selling their goods. Folks had to make a living somehow, and there were plen
ty of elves eager to purchase their offerings.

  Besides, Father was out in Sweetbell. He didn’t have to know I was hocking wares, and neither did Aerith.

  I cut through the market, heading south toward Brightwhisk Forest. It was easier to walk through the crowd down the middle of the path than to push my way up to the stalls. I was crossing the final aisle when I saw him standing in the center of the path, whispering to a beautiful brunette in a fur-trimmed beige cloak.

  Flames burst around my fingers.

  An older male elf gasped, eyes expanding at my hands.

  I curled my fingers into fists, extinguishing the flames, and strode toward the fiend who was flirting rather than peddling.

  As I approached, he pulled an emerald necklace from his pocket and dangled it before the female’s face as though holding a carrot in front of a horse. The female’s eyes expanded on the glimmering emeralds.

  Okay, maybe I’d been too hasty in my assessment of the situation.

  Slowing my steps, I turned my attention to the stalls as though looking the goods over from a distance, while keeping my ears open to the pitch he made.

  “It’s gorgeous,” the female gasped.

  “And would look even more gorgeous around your delicate neck,” he returned.

  I nearly snorted. Real smooth, pit brains.

  But the female giggled. Truly, I didn’t understand my own sex sometimes.

  “Where did you get it?” she asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  She cleared her throat gently. “I mean, is there any special story that goes with it?”

  “Oh, a story,” he drawled. “I’m glad you asked. This piece comes from Faerie. It once belonged to a princess.”

  “A princess of Faerie,” the female said dreamily. Then her tone changed. “Did this belong to Aerith Heiris?”

  The male sighed. “Everyone assumes that. I have contacts all over Zaleria and Faerie.”

  The female put her hands on her hips. “I heard Aerith recently returned to Pinemist. The timing is rather fortuitous, is it not?”

  “So what if it was hers?” the male asked, not masking the ire from his voice.

  Yeah, so what? I moved closer to the pair, nearly inserting myself in their conversation and the female’s face. I didn’t appreciate her tone about my sister.

  The female lifted her nose high into the air. “Aerith Heiris is not a true princess.”

  “She married a prince. That makes her a princess.”

  The female huffed in disgust. “She won a contest. Everyone knows any Fae who comes to our realm in search of a bride is deranged; and any female who competes for him is desperate.” She looked at the emeralds and turned her nose up as though they’d turned into a strand of pitberries.

  “I guess we’re not all born with a golden spoon in our hand,” the male said with a sneer.

  “Don’t give me that tone, Devdan. You’re only nice when you want something.”

  Devdan. Finally, a name to go with his fetching face.

  Before Devdan could answer, I widened my eyes and stepped in front of the pair. “What a gorgeous necklace!” I gasped. “Are those real emeralds?”

  Devdan’s glower, aimed at the fancy wench, softened as it turned to me. Our eyes met, and in that gaze, we shared a thousand smiles. My belly softened, and my heart warmed as though an eternal flame had burst to life inside my chest.

  Devdan’s smile widened, showing teeth. “One hundred percent real,” he said slowly. “A rare beauty, ain’t she?”

  Forget butterflies. Birds were flying around in my stomach, diving and swooping, singing songs of sunshine and sweetberries.

  I stepped in closer. “And you said it belonged to a princess?” I made my voice all breathy and eager, which wasn’t too difficult when I was staring into the face of the cutest elf I’d ever clapped eyes on and he was smiling back as though I’d just offered him a sugared bun.

  Miss Snoot-Face stomped her foot.

  “It belonged to an elf. A couple years ago, she competed in a weapons tournament for a chance to wed a Fae prince. She killed an ogre. That’s how she became a princess of Faerie.”

  “Whoa. Wicked,” I breathed, eyes expanding. “Now I really want those emeralds. Name your price, Dev.”

  He chuckled, which was the most joyful sound. “Well, let me see. Normally it’s five gold coins, but if you throw in a kiss, I’ll knock it down to four.”

  My breath stalled as I glanced at his lips, which I totally wanted to latch on to. I don’t know what kind of response he expected, but he looked surprised when I rubbed my lips together and grinned eagerly. “What about two kisses?” I asked. “How much then?”

  His mouth gaped open.

  “Are you kidding me?” Miss Snooty demanded. Her fingers, covered in cream gloves with decorative little gold buttons, formed tight fists.

  “Run along, Nueleth. I’ve got business to conduct,” Devdan said without sparing the wench a look. His eyes were right where I wanted them, locked on mine.

  Miss Snooty huffed and turned to me. “A little friendly advice since you’re obviously new to these parts. He’ll kiss anything in a fancy dress”—she looked me up and down—“or coat. You obviously come from a good family, so you’d be wise to stay away from Devdan.”

  I lifted my head regally. “Actually, I come from a family of warriors and rebels—a lucrative and exciting life. And best of all, I can do whatever I want, and no one gives a pit.” I smiled smugly into her stunned face.

  Miss Snooty twirled around, picking up her skirts, and stormed away without another word.

  I puffed out my chest, watching her hurry away. That’s right. Run along, you stupid skirt.

  “Warriors and rebels, huh?” Devdan drawled beside me.

  His voice threaded through my ears and curled around my heart. I pulled a gold coin from my pocket and turned to face him, rolling the coin across my fingers again and again while watching Devdan. Momentarily distracted, he stared at the flash of gold. Who was dangling the carrot now? I smirked.

  He blinked and turned his attention back to me. “Thanks for stepping in. Nueleth can be a real pain in the ass.”

  I shrugged as I moved the coin across my hand. Any activity, even a coin roll, helped keep me from fidgeting too much, especially now that I had Handsome’s full attention.

  Devdan leaned in closer, and I nearly dropped the coin.

  Concentrate on moving the coin from one finger to the next, Mel! Do not think about his sexy lips or how much you want to kiss them.

  Is that offer still on the lawn? Do I have to buy the damn necklace to get the kiss? Or can we just kiss?

  Stop thinking about kissing! Kissing is gross, remember?

  How would you know when you’ve never kissed anyone? Devdan would be the perfect first kiss. I bet he’s really good at it with all the kissing he supposedly does.

  The next time the coin reached my thumb, I squeezed and fisted it before dropping it back into my coat pocket.

  “I haven’t seen you before,” Devdan said, squinting at me. “I would have remembered.”

  “I moved to Pinemist a few weeks ago,” I said.

  He didn’t need to know I’d lived here before. I didn’t want him putting two and two together too quickly, not before I had a chance to get to know him as myself, not “Aerith’s little sister.” Unless Aerith had mentioned me? On one hand, I hoped she had. On the other, I enjoyed maintaining an air of mystique.

  “What’s your name?”

  Time to find out.

  “Melarue.”

  “Melarue.” Devdan’s lips puckered on the last part as though he could taste the syllables. There was no recognition of my name, only delight in the smile on his lips. He cocked his head to the side. “So, Melarue, you don’t actually know who Aerith is, do you?”

  I tossed my hair back. “She sounds totally badass if you ask me.”

  Devdan shrugged. “More tolerable than that one.” He nodded in the direct
ion Nueleth had stomped off. Then he returned his attention to me. “You don’t really want the necklace, do you?” He glanced at the emeralds dangling from his fingers.

  “I’m not into jewelry. I prefer swords.” I grinned.

  “Yeah? You buying? I’ve got excellent connections. If there’s anything you want, I’m your guy to procure it.” Devdan puffed out his chest.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Ask anyone,” he said. “Even Nueleth.”

  I rocked back on my heels and pursed my lips, giving him a once-over before settling my gaze on his face. “I’ve got what I need for now. Except for that kiss.” Did I just say that last part out loud?

  Devdan’s smile was like sunshine after months of rain. Its warmth radiated over my entire body. My cheeks warmed, as though my fire magic was as drawn to this male as I was.

  These feelings were all new, a kaleidoscope of wonders I never dreamed for myself.

  It didn’t change anything, of course. Having a crush didn’t mean I wanted to settle down and go all gooey over a guy. Maybe I’d feel this same way about a shape-shifter once Aerith and I traveled to the human realm. I wouldn’t know until I had a chance to experience other worlds.

  Devdan looked around suspiciously. “You got a father or boyfriend or big brother around who’s gonna pummel me if I kiss that smart mouth of yours?”

  “No. No. And no,” I answered. “I mean, I have a father, but he’s not even in Pinemist. No boyfriend and no brothers, big or small.”

  “Uh-huh,” Devdan said, still looking around unconvinced.

  “Anyway, I’m the one to worry about.”

  “Oh, are you?” Devdan asked in amusement. He slipped the necklace into a plum velvet pouch. “How about you follow me to the fountain, away from so many prying eyes?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I answered, sounding totally calm when my heart was knocking all around my rib cage, probably trying to whack me in the head.

  We walked side by side as though we were old friends, which was so weird when we’d only just met. The crowd thinned out as we left the market, following a wide cobbled walking path to a large circular fountain with a thirty-foot stone dragon in the center. Water poured from his mouth, which made no sense at all. It should have been flames bursting from his stone lips, not the splash of water. It was stupid. I nearly shared my thoughts with Devdan, but my nerves made my throat go dry. Suddenly, the water gushing from the dragon’s throat looked a whole lot better. I ran my tongue over my teeth, not wanting my mouth to be as dry as the cranberry scones Father served guests with tea in Sweetbell.