by Allison Pang
“Well, that could have gone better.”
“It could have gone worse too.” The prince rubbed his cheek with a wince. It had already started swelling from where his mother’s rings had grazed him. “She’s never been violent. A few more outbursts of that caliber and we’re going to have a real problem.”
“I suspect Maurice is counting on that,” said Phin. “He couldn’t have been any more obvious about his baiting if he’d painted a sign on his chest.”
“Real problem? If that little scenario doesn’t constitute a real problem, I don’t know what does.” I gestured at the throne. “I don’t understand why any of them are still following her commands at all. She’s nuts.”
“Creatures of habit,” the prince said. “Thousands of years of rule are hard to break. We’ve grown complacent, blindingly following protocol beyond reason.”
Melanie shifted her violin on her back. “What about the CrossRoads?”
Talivar nodded, staring where his mother had gone. “The Steward is who we really need to talk to right now, but he’ll have to wait until my mother is settled first. Sometimes she requires him to play for hours after one of these episodes. It’s the only thing that calms her.”
“Well, if it helps any, maybe I can take over for him? If it’s just about the music. I’ve been told I’m not too bad,” Melanie said dryly.
I fidgeted, discomfited in my own skin and tired of being observed like some sort of trained dog. I was done with jumping through hoops. “Well, I could use a bath. And something to eat before I fall over.”
“Of course,” the prince agreed, pausing when a page dashed up to hand him a message before hurrying off again, his little feet slapping hard upon the floor. Talivar grimaced. “Seems my presence has been requested a bit sooner than I thought. Let me find you a guide to your rooms.”
Phineas shook himself out. “I know the way.”
“Do you?” Talivar frowned. “I don’t remember ever seeing you trotting down these hallways before.”
“You weren’t looking properly,” the unicorn said cheerfully. “And I didn’t say I traveled using the hallways. No fear, though. If I can figure out which end means business on a hedgehog, I can find a couple of bedrooms.” He lifted his nose. “Gotta follow the scent of panties.”
The three of us gave a collective shudder. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Melanie grumbled.
Talivar lifted my hand to his lips. “Were we not in the throne room, I’d send you off with something a bit more intimate. But I will come to you as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He bowed again and disappeared down the same corridor his family had taken.
For once, I would have liked things to be simple. With a sigh and a sinking heart, I followed Phin down the hallway, his hooves tapping in time like the beginnings of a dirge.
Twenty-two
I emerged from beneath the steaming water with a sigh, rolling my head on the edge of the copper tub. Blissful quiet hovered about the room—my suite of rooms, in fact, which had been set up adjacent to Moira’s. Melanie’s were on the other side of mine, a shared door allowing us to move between them.
Evening sunlight swept in through an ivy-latticed window, the wood polished to the same burnished glow as the throne room. It should have been wondrous and relaxing, but given my earlier impressions I couldn’t help but feel I was a bird in a gilded cage.
Of Talivar and Moira there had been no sign, although a crystalline invitation from the Queen was delivered to my rooms shortly after I’d arrived. Dinner and dancing. Like I was on some sort of hellish cruise ship. What was a mere daemon invasion against an evening of profiteroles and petticoats? A wretched giggle exploded through my nose, bubbles swirling in response.
Not like I had anything to wear anyway. The lavender dress was travel worn and dusty and probably not appropriate. Hell, what difference did it make? The Queen was insane and wearing rags. Me showing up naked would probably be an improvement.
I wiped a weary hand over my eyes at the futility of it all. And yet I couldn’t help but see Talivar there, unflinching as his mother slapped him, and continuing to offer her support. No wonder he couldn’t find a wife. Even if they managed to overlook his physical imperfections, there wasn’t a woman in the world who’d want that as a mother-in-law.
Pulling the stopper from the drain, I swung my legs out of the copper tub, sighing when my feet touched the thick lambskin carpet. I toweled off quickly, pulling my hair up into a loose bun. A glance in the standing glass mirror showed the flare of bruising at my neck and I traced my fingers over them, my face flushing hot. Whore, indeed.
“See something you like?” Brystion purred at me from the windowsill.
Startled, I nearly dropped the towel before descending on him. “What are you doing here?”
“So glad you’re happy to see me,” he retorted dryly. “And obviously I climbed up the window trellis.” He flexed his fingers.
“Multitalented, just like I remember.”
His eyes sparked gold, but he merely pulled himself through the sill, crouching on the ledge with a lazy curl of thigh.
“Why are you here, Ion?”
“You should know. Weren’t you the one who asked me to come?” A rueful smile crossed his face. “Despite my better judgment, it would appear I can deny you nothing. Though I hate to say I told you so.”
“No, no, go ahead. Tell me what an idiot I am for getting us all involved in this Spectacular Craptacular production. You did warn me, after all.”
“I seem to recall warning you about a lot of things,” he pointed out. “And that’s never stopped you before.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” I scowled, hugging the towel a little closer. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen me in all my glory, but I wasn’t too eager to be strolling around with all my bits and pieces showing either.
His face softened. “I know.” Uncoiling from the ledge, he strolled over to the bed, one finger sliding along the bedpost. I exhaled sharply, remembering what it was like to have all that muscular perfection stretched out on top of me, the way he’d bitten my neck, licked my shoulder …
Perfection.
I shook my head, amazed at my own gall. Talivar had no such recourse, beyond Glamour. I shut my eyes against the imagined hurt.
“You shouldn’t be here.” My voice was strangled. “Please go.”
He exhaled, the sound puffing against my ear. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” One hand slid over my shoulder, a miniature explosion of heat prickling my skin.
“No,” I admitted. “But you don’t get to do this, Ion. You left me. Swore up and down that you couldn’t be what I needed. That you wanted more for me.”
“And you think Talivar is it?”
“I have no idea. It may be something. It may be nothing. But guess what? It’s none of your business. That’s what letting go of someone means.” I sagged onto the bed. “And I’ve got too much going on right now to have to worry about … this. Us. Whatever.”
He stared out the window. “It’s funny. I never thought I would be jealous of an elf.”
“Whatever happened to all that stuff about how you wouldn’t grow old with me or give me kids or the rest of all that shit you were too presumptuous to talk about with me?”
“You’d have the same age problem dating the prince.”
“Yeah, I suppose so and that’s a right bitch, but thus far he’s made no assumptions. For all I know we’ll merely have a nice torrid affair and then he’ll settle down with a lovely Faery lady and that will be that.” I paused, wondering why that idea bothered me so much. “I mean, shit. You and I… we had a week or two, tops. And the sex was great. I can’t deny we had a connection, but what was it based on, really? Did you ever think that maybe the reason I was so attracted to you was because I’m a Dreamer? You’re an incubus … it would make sense for me to—”
His finger found my lips, s
hushing me with a single motion. “That was the point I was trying to make before.”
“But you never even gave us a chance. How was I supposed to get to know you?” I frowned at him. “Maybe that’s the real issue. Talivar’s been with me for nearly eight months now. I do his laundry sometimes, for Christ’s sake. Even if he wasn’t interested in me, I’d still know him better in some ways. At least the mundane ones,” I added. It was hard to completely argue the point with the incubus who’d lived in my head for nearly the same amount of time.
He raised a brow and for a moment the edges of his skin went blurry as he shifted. I blinked. He’d become an old man, crow’s feet and tired mouth, sagging ears and hollowed cheeks.
“Kept the full head of hair, I see.”
“Vanity,” he retorted. “It’s my only vice.” He twitched again, the haziness melting away, returning to his normal state. He reached out to stroke my cheek. Against my better judgment, I let him, my face sinking into the warmth of his palm.
A sad chuckle escaped me. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re here because you still think you love me, or simply because you can’t stand to see me with someone else.”
“What if it’s both?”
“But nothing’s changed. Sure, it’s great you can take on the semblance of age, but it’s not real. How are you going to feel when I’m forty-five? Fifty-five? Where will we be when I’m seventy and drooling with saggy tits and a flat ass?”
“You don’t get it. It’s never been about what you look like.” He pursed his lips, kneeling beside the bed, but didn’t touch me. “It’s the Dreamer in you that I love. The physical part of it, your age, your weight … none of it matters.” He tapped my forehead. “It’s all about this.”
“Then why leave me in the first place?” I punched him in the shoulder, anger and hurt warring with the sudden urge to pull him onto the bed. When he didn’t answer, I shrugged. “Well, I still meant what I said—there’s too much going on here right now. And regardless of what’s happening between me and Talivar, I’m not going to rub you in his face like a dog. He doesn’t deserve that.” I cracked a small grin at him. “You’re a complication I don’t need, Ion.”
His eyes flared gold. “Touché,” he murmured. The silence stretched out between us and I became terribly aware of how dark the room had become. The sun had set fifteen minutes ago.
“Aren’t we supposed to go down for dinner or something?”
“Or something. Though with Melanie here we might actually get some real music. Thomas doesn’t play in public often anymore—the Queen is too jealous of his attention to allow it.”
I shook myself. “That’s right. You don’t know, do you?” I gave him the quick and dirty version of my history, revealing the necklace, my new relationship with Moira, and that I did, in fact, have a father.
When I was done, his gaze rolled down to my necklace for a moment. He began to laugh. Ripples of amusement rolled off of him as he sagged onto the bed, his entire body shaking with it. My own lips twitched in answer and before I knew it I’d joined him, the absurdity of our entire situation finally bubbling up in torrid waves of hysterical giggles.
Wiping at my eyes, I held my stomach when it began to ache. “God, I’m so fucked.”
His mouth pursed. “You could be.” And then I was in his arms, and he was kissing me, the tension between us released in a blistering wave. I let it sweep past me for a moment more, our tongues probing hard and fast. My towel was half undone, falling open as he ground his hips against my belly.
I broke away from him, my body sighing in protest, and I had to wonder at its own sense of moral ambiguity. After all, I’d made love to Talivar the night before and here I was attempting to make the beast with two backs only a few short hours later… with my ex.
The incubus groaned, taking the moment to plant a soft kiss beneath my right breast and sucking hard. “There, now,” he said, his eyes flaring with satisfaction. “Marked as mine.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Ion, there’s like ten of them down there. It’s not like anyone else would know.”
A feral grin curved his mouth. “I’ll know.” He stood, carefully replacing the towel across my chest. “Shall I see you at dinner, then? Perhaps you might save a dance for me.”
“Assuming I can even find something to dance in, yeah. I guess.” I hesitated. “And, um … thank you for coming. I’m sorry it’s become such a cluster.”
“I find the towel rather charming.” He smirked, and I half debated throwing it in his face, but that clearly wasn’t the right response. “And I never mind coming, Abby.”
“Get out.” I pointed at the window. “And try not to break anything on the way down. I suspect the Fae won’t be particularly sympathetic to your cause if I’m forced to call a healer.”
He blew me a kiss and slipped out onto the trellis with a rustling of leaves. I fought the urge to watch him climb down and lost, feeling like a whorish Rapunzel as he disappeared into the darkness and out into the garden.
A scratch at the shared door had me wrapping the towel a little tighter. “Yeah?”
“Abby, it’s Mel. Can I come in?” The door cracked open as she peered into the room. “Decent?”
“Eh. Sorta. Haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to wear yet.” Of course, I’d sent away the serving girls or ladies’ maids or whatever they were the moment the bath water was hot enough. Maybe that’s how it was done here, but extra people poking at me make me nervous.
“Did you look in the wardrobe?” Melanie rolled her eyes at me and made a beeline for the great hunk of furniture, ignoring my gasp of surprise. Great sweeps of emerald cloth crossed behind her shoulders, somehow giving her a plunging neckline and a scooped back. A delicate tattoo of spiraling thorns crept over her right shoulder blade. “Gee, there’s almost enough cloth dragging behind you to make you a real dress.”
She shrugged. “I think I put it on upside down, but I don’t really care.” She kicked out her feet to reveal her calf-high Doc Martens still in full effect. “I’m not dancing in these anyway. Besides green with red hair… it’s such a cliché.”
The door to the wardrobe opened with a welcoming creak, a light cedar scent drifting from the darkness. Melanie made a little noise and pulled out an elegant sapphire dress.
I looked at it dubiously, feeling the cloth with a curious finger. “It’s the right color, anyway.”
Melanie made a scoffing sound and yanked the towel from me, ignoring my protests. “Nice hickeys,” she noted dryly, throwing the dress at me. “Go try this on—we’re gonna be late.”
I grumbled something rude to her, but wriggled my way into the gown. Surprisingly it fit well, the bodice tight but breathable, the skirt falling just below my knees. “It’s a bit conservative, don’t you think?”
“Compared to what? The piece of shit I’m wearing? Sure, I suppose so. Actually, it’s a bit like a ballet dress, don’t you think?”
I eyed my reflection. “Could be a little poofier at the top, maybe, but yeah. I guess so.” I twirled about for a moment, watching it flare out to expose the lower half of my thighs, a ghost of a memory settling over me. “All I need are some pointe shoes.”
“Hmmph. Ask and you shall receive.” Melanie opened up a box to reveal a matching pair of ballet toe shoes.
“Gee, this is a bit much don’t you think?”
“Maybe it’s a magic wardrobe?” She waggled her fingers mockingly. “As you can tell, I’m clearly the Faery harlot of the night.”
“They’re even the real thing.” I rapped my knuckles on the stiff base before glancing down at my feet. “I don’t know if I even have the calluses for this sort of thing anymore.” A year ago, two years ago, I’d had the ugly, blistered toes of the professional dancer. I’d barely even had toenails on my left foot.
A few years of inactivity hadn’t quite fixed them, but they weren’t the tattered mess of before, I realized with a pang. Battle scars of another sort altogether. “I�
�ll put them on, but I don’t think I’ll be wearing them for very long.” I slipped into them, wrapping the ribbons around my calves. “I look ridiculous.”
“Actually, you look a lot like your old self.” A soft smile touched her lips. “It’s nice to see, Abby.”
I pliéd carefully in fifth position and then rose to pointe, a lump in my throat as my body remembered its former glory. My knee held up surprisingly well, but even I knew not to be fooled by that. It had gotten stronger over the last year, but not enough to convince me it would ever truly heal.
Still, I couldn’t quite help circling my arms before lifting my bad leg behind me as I shifted into arabesque and then leaned forward into penché. My lower back shrieked in protest and I grasped the bed for support, sucking in a deep breath. My legs strained with muscles stiff from disuse, and if my former teachers had seen it I would have been scolded into next week, but the old spark of excitement burst into my veins, as though I would simply turn and pirouette into the past. And yet I held myself quiet, finally exhaling myself into first position, my leg lowering and sweeping into fourth.
Melanie applauded with a cheeky wink. “Brava!”
I let out a gasp as my arches started to cramp and I shook my head, sinking onto the bed to untie the shoes. “And that’s enough of that, I think. Fairy tales are lovely, but I don’t have time to break these in. Halfway down the hallway and I’d be leaving a bloody trail a mile wide.”
“That’s a tasty thought.” She dug in the wardrobe again and flushed out a pair of strappy sandals that would be far easier on my feet. “Look at it this way. At least they weren’t enchanted or something. It would really suck if you were forced to dance yourself to death.”
I rolled my eyes at her and attempted to do something with my hair.
At least that was something I remembered how to do.
There was a beetle swimming in my soup. At least it was round and had legs. Beyond that I wasn’t going to look too closely. I wasn’t going to eat it either, so I carefully shoved the bowl toward the edge, leaving the spoon untouched. I didn’t know if it was a mistake or a joke or what, but it was not going in my mouth.
