Heir of Beauty

by Scarlett Kol

She flexed her arm against mine. “Well, I am a writer. Or at least trying to be. But I'm sure you would've handled it without me. I just moved things along a little faster."

  "Maybe." I struggled with her faith in me as I doubt I would have the same if our situations were reversed. "I didn't know you'd even be there. When I hadn't heard from you, I just assumed you were still at the temple or had just gone home."

  "Well, I stayed there for a while, but it's not like it was that bad. My father has quite the temper, but once he calms down he typically realizes his ways."

  "So he didn't punish you for bringing me up there?"

  "Unless you mean beating me in eight straight games of checkers as punishment, then no. However, he did make me clean up after the chickens."

  She laughed and the muscles in my back and shoulders relaxed.

  "But, I did have a long talk with him about your situation. He wouldn't tell me anything, said it really wasn't my business, but he has agreed to speak with you again if you want to?"

  I peeled out of her clutch and stepped in front of her with my hands on her shoulders. I gazed into her deep green eyes as they sparkled in the sunshine, like the lush mystery of the forest at the top of the hill. “Of course, I do. I can have someone from the capital bring him here right away."

  "Hold up.” She slipped her arms between mine and pushed outward, breaking my hold on her then slipping her arm back in mine. “He will only talk to you on the contingent that you go back up to the temple. He has things to attend to there and since this is your issue, he feels you need to make sacrifices for the information."

  "I guess that's fair, but I have no idea how I'll get back there. I don’t know my way up the sides of the mountain, at least not that high. Maybe Griswold or someone else might have an idea of how to get there.“

  "Just borrow Alizeh. If you call her, I'm sure she would come. If she doesn't have time, she won't. You'll just have to wait, maybe, that's all.” She nodded her head as she spoke, subliminally coaxing me to agree. "Besides, since you are a king now I guess everything belongs to you anyway."

  "I could never do that. I'm not like that, you should know."

  I pulled my arm back, but she squeezed it tighter.

  "Wow. Does that crown suck out all of your sense of humor? Not that you are a sparkling wit, to begin with, but it was just a joke."

  "Sorry. It's been a rough few days." I tugged her over to the right side of the street and the door of a small two-room shop with a dark blue awning to match its navy shutters. A rough hand-painted sign sat in the window, Madame Madeleine's Perfect Pies, it read with an oddly-shaped pie drawn in the corner.

  The sweet, buttery smell of the shop wafted outside and I let my nose guide us to the entrance.

  I held open the door, letting Veda pass. "You'll love this place."

  She glanced up at me, her eyes twinkling with wonder. "I guess we'll see."

  I followed behind and joined the long line that weaved between the tiny tables scattered through the front room of the shop. Madame Madeleine and her staff rushed behind the counter, back and forth, taking orders and serving food as quickly as they could. Sweat dripped from their foreheads and with the unbearable heat suffocating the room most of the customers too.

  I pointed at the menu, no more than a list of flavors scrawled on a piece of butcher paper tacked on the wall with a nail. "I'm sure the savory ones are excellent, but I can never come here without buying something sweet."

  "Why does that not surprise me? I'm pretty sure you know how to indulge yourself."

  "Maybe." I glared down at her with a mocking smirk, trying to hold back my laughter. "Or maybe I just know what I like."

  She raised her left eyebrow and met my gaze. "Really? I'd love to hear more about that sometime."

  We bumped along the line, the smells thickening in my nose and my mouth watering like a starving sheepdog until we finally reached the front. Madame Madeleine herself met us at the counter, straightening the already dirty apron covering her blue dress. A rainbow of shades from splattered fruit painted the front, but she didn't seem to care.

  "It's been a while, Your Majesty.”

  "Too long, Madame. But I can't stop dreaming about your cherry lemon pie.”

  She blushed, the red showing through her cheeks even over the intense heat, and she hooted a deep belly laugh. She flicked her hand toward me and rolled her eyes. "Quit your flattery, my prince. You know you eat for free already anyway."

  "Not today, Madame." I slipped my hand in my pocket and pulled out a Baht, leaving it on the counter. “How can I expect you to keep making your wonderful pies if your own cupboards go bare. This should cover mine and whatever the lady would like. I don't need any change."

  She scanned my face, critical as if expecting some sort of joke, then took the bill, her eyes widening when she realized it would cover more than double our order.

  “Why yes, I think it will. Now, where is your lucky lady?” She scanned over our faces, then pushed up on her toes looking towards the back of the shop.

  I tugged Veda closer to the counter, however ,there wasn't much room left. "Right here."

  Madame gave an unsettling chuckle. ”My opulent stars, it must be busier than I thought. My apologies, miss. What can I get for you?"

  "I'll have the same. Apparently, they are the best."

  Madame nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with two piping hot pies, steam billowing off the perfect golden crust.

  We maneuvered around the rest of the line and snagged a small table near the window. I tried to be polite pulling out Veda's chair, even as the rumble in my stomach wanted to sit and devour my lunch. I raced into my seat and took a huge bite. The juicy cherry cut with the tart lemon slid down my throat in the most joyful way. I groaned and took another big bite, the sauce smudging on the side of my mouth. I ran my hand over the mess and licked it off my knuckles not willing to risk losing one taste.

  "You weren't kidding about knowing what you like, were you?” Veda laughed, as she watched me gorge myself on fruit and pastry. She picked up her own pie and finally took a dainty bite from the corner. Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling and she collapsed against the back of the chair. “Okay, maybe you are right on this one. It's really good.”

  "Told you.” I cast her a quick grin before returning to demolish the rest of my pie.

  We ate in silence, except for the few tight-lipped mmmm sounds that were unavoidable with food this good. Once I finished and convinced myself not to get back in line for another serving, I leaned back in my chair and watched Veda enjoy hers. The blissful glaze that fell over her expression as the world slipped away leaving just her and the pie made me chuckle as I'm sure everyone else saw me in the same way. Except her enjoyment wasn't the only thing in the room. I glanced around at the other tables. Prying eyes watched our every move, scrutinizing me and evaluating her. I guess my speech did not go over as well as I had hoped, or maybe with my new position people were more interested in me than ever before. I tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling but as more people entered the shop, more stares fell on us. Tables close by leaned in toward each other, whispering under closed hands held over their mouths. The gossip had already begun, except I had no idea what it was about.

  "I'll have to remember this place,” Veda said snapping me out of my paranoid daze. She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "Or maybe I'll have to convince you to bring me here again." The whispers around us grew louder, like hushed screams calling my attention.

  I slipped my fingers into hers and stood, coaxing her from the table. "Maybe we should get going."

  She followed behind me until we reach the door. I propped it open with my forearm and swept my arm to signal her to lead the way.

  A bright flash. Black dots blurred my vision and I shook my head.

  "Excuse me, Your Majesty, how are you feeling after your speech today?” A voice blared at me before I could cross the threshold into the street.


  More voices.

  “Prince Fallon, now that you’re king, what does that mean for your father?"

  “Prince Fallon, who are you with?"

  The questions came rapid-fire like fists in a street fight and pummeled us back through the door. Reporters, enough for every small town paper and city gazette for the next six kingdoms, hovered in the doorway refusing to let us leave without a quote. Each query fast and sharp, relentless, launching one after the other. Personal, political, mental, and none that I was prepared to answer. Veda stood her ground, bracing her stance although her eyes danced wild like a trapped animal with a hurt paw.

  "Prince Fallon, is this your girlfriend?"

  "Where is she from?"

  "Does she really seem like the best choice for our next queen?"

  I yanked Veda's arm pulling her to my chest and slamming the door shut behind her. The loud thud as it closed in the frame commanded the attention of everyone in the room. Madame Madeleine waved her arm, beckoning us. "Out the back, darlings. It'll buy you a few minutes peace."

  I tugged Veda’s hand and rushed into the kitchen, nearly falling as my shoes hit the greasy floor, but I slid across to the rear door and burst into the alley. The voices around the front of the building echoed through the narrow passageway, but no one thought to chase us back here. At least not yet.

  "This way." I jerked my head up the hill, toward the forest and ran down the alleyway, trying to keep our heads in the shadows. We rushed a few blocks and came out on the main street, but the nagging, questioning voices appeared behind us. Predators who’d caught the smell of fear and blood. Flashbulbs from cameras lit up the sky. I dashed into the next alley, Veda quick behind, her foot clipping my back heel as we ran, but I had no time to stop. We meandered through the streets rushing uphill, the added strain from the incline clear in Veda’s labored breath on in my neck.

  Finally, we reached the edge of the city, the dark green leaves of the forest, full and beckoning. Miles of grounds where we could hide.

  "Hold on." Veda ripped her hand from mine and bent over gripping her knees. Her breath came hard as her chest heaved in and out, her face blazing fire-red. I leaned against the stone wall of the last building in town and closed my eyes, listening for the reporters or anyone else who had decided to chase us, but the shouts seemed to have fallen away.

  Veda’s breath slowed and she slid her arm around my waist. "I didn't know that lunch could be such an adventure."

  I opened my eyes and stared right into hers, the emerald glow drawing me in like the forest. Cool. Safe. Mysterious. I rested my forehead against her brow as our breaths mingled together and came to a slow even rhythm that spiked my pulse to pick up its pace.

  "I'm sorry about all this." I swooped the few strands blowing across her face behind her ear. "They're normally not this bad, but with everything going on I guess everything I do will be public now."

  She cast her eyes downward, breaking the connection between us and lowered her voice." It's fine. But I believe you still owe me a debt, Fallon."

  I watched the words roll off her soft red lips as my memory took me back to the temple, the last time we'd been this close. The last time I almost kissed her. I struggled to swallow, my throat desert dry. "Not here."

  Her arm slipped from my waist and the sweet familiar smell of her faded as she stepped away.

  "Don't worry about it."

  I wiped my hands over my face, the cherry lemon scent still heavy on my skin. "It's not that I don't want to, but what if someone saw?"

  She crossed her arms, her sad expression hardening faster than clay and more rigid than granite. "Oh. I get it. You’re only interested if no one knows.”

  “No, not at all." I tried to take her hand but she backed up further. "It's just that being king has certain obligations and I need to be very careful with how I act and what ends up in the newspaper."

  "So, let me make this simple. You’re king now and I'm not good enough, if I ever was. I understand."

  She stuck her thumb and forefinger in her mouth and let out a high-pitched whistle.

  "That's not what I said."

  “But it's what you meant."

  She slammed her hands on her hips. I tried to form words, but the guilty flame of my face spoke first.

  “No, I…it’s just…”

  She shook her head and cast her glassy stare toward the trees. I took her hand, but she jerked it from my grasp.

  “Don’t.”

  Alizeh appeared in the sky barreling toward the one open patch of ground before the forest treetops.

  “Don’t go. Please, let me explain. The Council…and my new responsibilities…I don’t want to mess things up.”

  “Then I’ll make it easy for you.” She tossed her hands in the air and backed up a few steps, a seething anger building in her pointed stare, then she ran towards Alizeh without looking back.

  "Veda!" I screamed after her, but she'd already mounted the great bird and started off toward the sky. I smacked my head against the stone wall, the pain a punishment for my stupid mouth. One too light for what I deserved.

  3

  29th may

  The gold-handled switchblade came from Draconis. My father always took me with him for his fall trade trip on the chance that we’d get to see a real live dragon. We never did, so he bought me the knife instead. The first addition to my collection. The straight blade with the ivory roses inset on the crimson leather-wrapped hilt came from our family trip to the Floris flower festival when I was twelve. The swords that stood tall in their showcases along the wall, each of them glittering with rubies, emeralds, sapphires, or even just the rarest crystals, each had their own stories to tell. Every blade a memory of my father and somewhere we’d gone together, or an adventure we had shared. Now they just reminded me of how much I missed him.

  I pulled my favorite Kaiken blade out of its holder and gripped the velvety ray skin handle. I scratched the sharp metal against my forefinger. It tickled, but one small slip could slice the tip off at the knuckle. I'd been around weapons all my life, as artifacts in the castle or for sport, but I never actually thought I'd need to use one, especially not against my own father. I shuddered as I remembered the weight of the guard’s sword in my hand, the shaking in my knees as I brandished it high, and the terrifying sound as it clanged on the cobblestones leaving me defenseless.

  I dug the tip of the dagger into the top of my dresser, the wood curling under the thin sharp blade. This one would hurt if it made contact with someone's skin, likely slicing through before the victim even felt it. But a thousand cuts with this assassin’s blade wouldn't come close to the feeling as I watched Veda run away from me. I'd screwed up. I knew I had. All I needed to do was kiss the girl, the one thing I'd never hesitated to do before. I'd probably kissed more girls then some people would even meet in a lifetime, but in that second with her lips almost touching mine, I froze.

  My stomach cramped at the memory and I winced as my pained face mocked me in the mirror. What was it about this girl that messed with my head? Why couldn’t I simply move past her like I’d done with every other girl before her? Why did I not want to?

  A soft knock wrapped on my bedroom door and dragged me out of my self-pity.

  "Come in,” I called, still running the dagger over in my hands and wishing my father would be the one to come barging in.

  Instead, my mother floated into the room. "I didn't see you at breakfast. I had the kitchen prepare all your favorites."

  "Thanks, but I wasn't hungry."

  "Too busy planning your next great speech, are you?"

  "Not exactly.” I slid the dagger back into its case and turned around to lean against the dresser. "I've just been doing a lot of thinking, that's all."

  "About what? Maybe I can help."

  "I doubt it. I just had an argument with a friend."

  "Just a friend huh?" She flopped down in my armchair resting her hands on the sides. A little too comfortable to be leaving soon.<
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  "Have the press already gotten to you?"

  "The press? This must have been some argument." She picked lint off her skirt and flicked it in the air watching it slip down to the ground. "But no, I just know that when you've fought with your other friends you tend to throw yourself into physical things. Fencing, riding, even tennis on occasion, but this is the first time you have resorted to sulking, so something must be up."

  "I'm not sulking, I'm just… fine, I'm sulking. But it doesn't matter anyway because I messed it up and she's gone."

  "Gone? Are you going international again with your exploits?" She rolled her eyes, as a bored look settled over her face. “I know I don’t normally mention it, but you need to start thinking, my son.”

  "What are you talking about?"

  "How is it that young people never think their parents know half the things they do? I was young and foolish too, you know?”

  I rubbed my hands over my face, partly to hide the embarrassment but also to get the image of my mother acting like one of the girls at the tavern out of my head. "But that changed when you met Dad, right? You fell in love with him?"

  The humor in her eyes dropped to the floor and shattered like glass. "Of course I fell in love with him. I'm still in love with him and always will be, no matter what happens."

  "So he didn't force you to fall in love with him?"

  "Force me?” She laughed and tossed her head back against the chair. “Where would you get a crazy idea like that? No, your father would never do such a thing, and besides, you can't force someone to fall in love with you, it just happens. Even if it's not ideal or even when others don't agree, it doesn't matter. The heart will choose and the brain must accept or find a way to deal."

  I left the dresser and sat down on the bed with my back to her as I chose my words carefully. "But I've heard he kidnapped you. That doesn't sound like love to me.”

  Her skirts rustled behind me, as I pictured her sitting up straighter, her posture likely offended at my brashness.

  "There are many things about your father and me that were not perfect. But how we met and how we fell in love are two different stories combined by common characters. Why didn't you just ask me about this before?”