Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine Book 1), page 30
“So, Molkan.” Avrin amended, “Your father, told me he had the talk with you.”
Having eaten enough, I set my cutlery down. “He has indeed.”
Avrin watched me as he chewed, but I kept my gaze fixed on the finger I trailed around my goblet of water.
“And?” he pressed. “How do you feel about it all?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed, frowning slightly. “He told me so much, yet I still have so many questions.”
Avrin waited, then spread his hands. “Such as?”
The glinting silver of his cutlery made my fingers curl with the desire to touch the almost healed slash at my throat.
I studied Avrin and wondered why he would humor me. He was adviser to the king, or so it seemed. I had the growing suspicion he was far more than that. Spy, confidant, perhaps even something like a son.
My question wasn’t at all what I thought I’d ask first if given the chance. “Where is Rolina’s daughter?”
His features did not change, save for a small crease between his brows. “Who?”
“Rolina. My guardian. The woman you killed and turned to nothing during the hunt’s trade visit to Crustle.”
“Right, the woman who kept you sequestered within a cage of loathing for twenty years,” he said, then reached for his wine when I didn’t respond. He took a hearty sip. His lips smacked together as he finally confirmed, “Her daughter is dead, of course.”
That shouldn’t have bothered me. Perhaps guilt over being the reason she was killed was the reason it did—though I’d had no say in any of it. I’d likely been only days old. “Why?”
Avrin ate another mouthful before cutting me an amused and confused glance. “What do you mean why? It’s just how it is. If a faerie babe is dumped outside of Folkyn’s borders, then the babe they swap it with is of no use to us.”
Maybe I’d spent too much time amid humans and creatures who wanted and no longer had anything to do with Folkyn, as I failed to stomach such horrific cruelty. I took another sip of water, that tiny part of me who empathized with Rolina’s actions thankful she’d died before knowing of the fate that had befallen her babe.
“Many thought you dead too, you know, and Molkan didn’t care to correct anyone.” Avrin shrugged. “But I wasn’t here then, Princess.”
Surprised he’d decided to stay on the topic, I set the water down and gave him my attention.
“I was plucked from the streets maybe four or five years after you were born, so I don’t know for certain what happened to this guardian’s babe, but I do know she is probably dead as that is the way of our ilk.”
No humans were permitted in Faerie. There were rumors of exceptions, such as witches and half-breeds, and humans kept by nobility and the wealthy to feed their fetishes and give them something different to feast upon.
But I knew, and I think Rolina had also known, that the Fae were not inclined to care for much outside of themselves. Certainly not a human babe.
To be polite, I waited until Avrin finished his meal to leave, but he excused himself first with a mocking grin. “Sweetest dreams, Princess.”
Annoyance pricked at my nape.
I reached over and snatched the wine to pour a small amount into my goblet.
There was no stroll through the grounds the following morning. After waiting in my room until midday, I finally took to the halls to do a little exploring.
At the bottom of the sandstone steps I’d taken with my father for the past two days, I paused and looked across the terrace to the grass-lined drive.
Imposing and taller than the wall they arched between, the iron palace gates stood dark as night in the shine of the sun.
Upon the drive before them, three guards stood in conversation, dressed in uniform with swords and daggers at their backs and sides. Above them, two watch towers climbed toward the sky. Another guard descended the ladder rungs while laughing at something his comrade said from high above in the enclosed wooden lookout.
These people were victims, but they were ready and anticipating an attack.
Florian’s manor was heavily fortified, yet there was no wall. No warriors in towers watched every move the civilians made beyond Hellebore’s royal home.
The winter king might have had his reasons, but after hearing Molkan explain everything, I failed to understand how such hatred from Florian could withstand so much time. Twenty years, and it hadn’t lessened. From what Molkan had said, Florian was patiently increasing the tension—tightening and tightening until it snapped.
Until Molkan snapped.
I intend to go to war, Florian had said what felt like a different lifetime ago. He’d deceived me in many ways, but as my mind fell within the dangerous disorder of memories, I couldn’t resist wondering if he had also been speaking the truth.
After all, there was no one more skilled in the art of veiling lies within truth than the Fae.
The thought of Florian and his warriors flooding this city, breaking down those gates, the once laughing guards dead upon the ground...
I turned back and walked up the stairs, my hand trembling as I curled my loose braid over my shoulder.
Avrin was already eating when I entered the dining room for dinner.
I hid my surprise and curiosity over his presence by muttering, “Thank you for waiting,” just as he’d said to me the previous night.
He huffed but said nothing.
I lowered into my chair, lacking the desire to fill the silence that followed. I remained quiet and contemplative as I pushed my food around my plate.
Although the adviser ate without saying a word, his eyes tracked every move I made.
Irked by it, and by the thoughts that clouded my mind until the only option I could settle on all day was inaction, I spoke first. “Why are you here?”
Avrin showed no sign of shock at my rude tone and question. Amusement filled his voice, and I looked up as he reached for his goblet of wine. He swirled it, then took a sip. “Here in this palace, or here dining with such a sullen princess?”
I almost bristled. Then decided I didn’t much care about his opinion of me after all. “Both.”
“Well,” he said, wiping his mouth with a lace-edged napkin. The cream cloth came away smeared with tomato soup. “If you must know, I usually dine here.”
“Alone?” I lifted a spoonful of soup to my mouth, swallowing as he watched with narrowed eyes.
“Your father hasn’t dined in this room since I arrived here, and I’ll wager he didn’t for years prior.” He glanced around, his attention falling to the empty yet beautiful fireplace with gold and ruby inlaid in the stone hearth. “A room like this deserves to be utilized.”
I silently agreed, peering around as I tore my bread in half and stifled the rising memory of the last time I’d eaten soup.
Open those lovely lips.
I dunked my piece of bread violently, uncaring as soup splashed over the lace table linen. Then decided to distract myself by any means necessary. “You said you were plucked from the streets?”
I could imagine a room such as this—and that this entire palace—was something he would marvel at standing within for many decades to come, then.
He nodded, lifting his bowl to his lips and slurping.
Irritation prickled, but the playful gleam in his eyes made me suppress a smile as he set the bowl down. “I was starving and desperate enough to try pickpocketing an off-duty soldier.” He licked his lips, and I half hoped the intrigue the shape of them aroused would create more—would kindle an interest for a male who did not carefully plot my demise. “I was too young to be executed and too wild to leave unpunished.”
“The soldier brought you here?”
“He brought me to his commander.” Avrin drank more wine. “The king just happened to be visiting the guard barracks, conversing with the commander and two others.”
I surmised that the largest building among the clusters of stone houses deep within the palace grounds must belong not to servants, but to members of Molkan’s royal military.
“I really should have been executed, and he knew it.” As if lost to the memory, Avrin’s gaze fell upon his almost finished meal, absent. “But he gave me the groundskeeper’s storage shed, said if I worked well for Helain for a year, he would see about letting me go.”
I chewed slowly, then paused. “But you never left.”
“Why would I want to?” he said, then laughed. “I had no parents, only an older brother who was relieved to no longer need to look out for me while he fended for himself. Here”—he gestured to the window—“well, you’ve seen it. I was barely eleven years, but even then I knew a good thing when it was shoved right before my face. So when the year was up, I said nothing and neither did Helain, and the king never noticed me again until I was pushing sixteen years and outgrowing half of his matured soldiers.”
“He made you enlist.”
He nodded. “As part of the royal guard. A few years later, Florian’s second-in-command killed his adviser and personal guard during an attempt to negotiate peace terms, and the king trusts no one, so...”
Fume, I guessed again but didn’t say.
“But he trusts you,” I said instead.
“He trusts me more than most, but let me be clear”—his voice lowered, and he tossed a glance over his broad shoulder—“he trusts no one.”
Similar words had been said to me about a different king.
I pondered that for longer than I should have, imagining what it must feel like—being so guarded. My hand curled around the bread, crumbs crumbling, as it occurred to me. As I acknowledged that I was dangerously close to knowing exactly what that felt like.
I had no choice but to trust those around me, at least to a certain degree, to get what I needed and to remain breathing. And I was beginning to hate it. That I might never know true safety and the life of comfort that came with it.
I wished I could roam freely throughout this land and any other without fear. I wished I could further get to know the male who was my father and have him smile and wink at me again without feeling like I needed those tiny displays of affection. Hints that he cared for me.
This kingdom was supposedly my own, yet I couldn’t shake the sense that one wrong move might cause all of it to disintegrate and cave in around me.
I wanted to be accepted here. In a way I hadn’t been accepted in Crustle or in Florian’s court. In a way that finally made me feel like I’d found it.
Home.
Avrin dropped his spoon with a clatter, then leaned back in his chair.
Sufficiently shaken from the anxiety that refused to let me feel at ease, I was grateful. “And your brother?” I asked, recalling that he was a member of the Wild Hunt.
“He wanted no part of this kingdom or any other. He left with the hunt the moment he matured and proved his worth to them.”
Curious, I asked, “What did he have to do?”
Avrin grinned, then rose from his chair and said with a seriousness that shocked, “Trust me when I say you’re better off not knowing everything, Princess.”
The following afternoon, I ventured down those sandstone steps to the terrace once more.
Determination kept my stride steady and my shoulders back as I neared the gates that would open to a world I’d yet to experience.
And I was tired of waiting.
Tired of sitting within a pretty palace, awaiting my father’s attention when I was beginning to fear he saw me as nothing more than a creature to be kept in order to keep me from his enemy. I should have been grateful for such protection. But the safety I’d found was nothing like I’d envisioned.
This time alone had made it clear that all I’d found since beginning my hunt for something so elusive was more uncertainty, violence, and questions.
I wanted no part of this war. I wanted to live without being used by scheming males. I wanted to breathe without feeling the burn of betrayal and missing someone I never should have wanted.
I wanted to escape everything I’d foolishly hoped to find and have the freedom to find something else.
Maybe I would find a place of my own. A place where no one would bother me. And if I had to find such a place in the middle lands until these kingdoms forgot that I existed, then so be it.
I couldn’t return to the apartment. It would be the first place Florian and Molkan looked. I’d have to work my way farther south toward the wood-laden borders of the human realm, and gain employment along the way to help me achieve that.
The guards ceased talking and separated when they became aware of my approach. Both moved to the center of the gates, chins high and their hands drifting to the weapons at their sides.
I stopped a few feet away, frowning. “I wish to leave.”
Neither of them responded. They didn’t need to.
My heart sank, my new plans dissolving upon the warm breeze. I was evidently not permitted to leave the palace grounds.
Footsteps crunched down the drive behind me before I could set my panic-induced anger free by demanding to be released.
I whirled on Avrin, seething quietly, “Why won’t they let me through?”
“It’s not safe for you out there. You know that better than anyone after almost having your throat carved wide open.”
The reminder made me instantly tense. “I can fend for myself, Avrin.”
“Of course.” His lips twitched. “With the help of some creatures, if they just so happen to be around?”
I glowered at him. “Let me go. Whatever happens to me is of no consequence to you and Molkan.” I swallowed thickly, suddenly desperate to run through those gates when his brows rose and his arms crossed. “I have no intention of being captured by Florian, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”
Avrin gave the guards behind me a slight nod, an unreadable command in his gold eyes. Then he looked down at me and whispered through lips that barely moved, “We cannot talk here.”
Confused, I let him escort me back to the terrace and up the steps.
As we neared my room, my impatience and anger returned. I hissed, “I didn’t realize I was a fucking prisoner.”
His brows jumped at my crassness.
But I wasn’t sorry. In fact, something loosened in my chest at having been so careless with my actions.
It was then everything I’d held inside for days while hoping to be proven wrong—while hoping that I’d merely grown jaded from all I’d been through—exploded. “He barely even looks at me, Avrin. Not once has he asked me about myself, about the things I love and the life I’ve had...” My chest heaved, my eyes blurring with unexpected tears. “I want to leave. Please,” I croaked. “Just let me leave.”
Avrin licked his lips, casting his gaze to the end of the empty hall.
When he looked back at me, he murmured, “You’re not a prisoner, Tullia. But until we’ve formally announced your arrival at the introduction ball tomorrow evening, we would like you to remain in the palace.”
My breath stalled with my thudding heart.
I shook my head, not wanting to believe I’d overreacted with my outburst. But perhaps I had. “A ball?”
Avrin’s jaw clenched. He nodded and lingered after he stepped back, as if he wished to say something else. Then he walked away.
I blinked at his tense form, so stunned, I almost flinched when he cursed and turned back.
“No,” he said with a humorless laugh. “You want to know what I think?”
He didn’t give me a chance to answer. My eyes widened as he advanced on me.
“I think even if you were a prisoner, you should be nothing but grateful. You live better than most while trapped within these walls among this huge estate. You’ve spent time with the enemy that seeks to eradicate this kingdom from the map of Folkyn, yet we still treat you with respect although you’re reluctant to talk about anything you’ve experienced during your time at Hellebore Manor.”
“I...” I stepped back against my closed door, at a loss for all the words I’d thought I still wanted to voice.
“I should hate you.” Avrin’s smirk was cruel, his scent a rising spiced mint as he loomed over me and set his hands on either side of my head upon the door. “I want to hate you. You’re ignorant and insufferably trusting and naive, and it drives me mad, but that is also why I can’t. This...” He gestured around us. “This prison you’re referring to?”
His hand slapped back against the wood by my head as he leaned so close, I could see the flecks of brown within his gold eyes. “It’s supposed to be mine, and now, I can’t help but be glad that I might have to share it, and it fucking enrages me.”
Shock stole my voice, my thoughts, then my breath as his mouth fell over mine.
Without a second of hesitation, he kissed me.
Rough at first touch, then immediately slowing to a rubbing caress. A stunned breath left me, and he rumbled a groan in response, his tongue seeking entry to my mouth. I gave it to him, but only for a moment.
His taste, a softened sweet wine, startled.
Something within me recoiled. My head turned, forcing his lips from mine.
Staring at the stone arch while Avrin seemed to inhale my scent at my neck, I withheld the urge to push him away—and the urge that pleaded for the return of his kiss to help erase the stain of another’s. I whispered thickly, “Thought you weren’t interested in Florian’s toys.”
He stepped back, his hands slowly sliding down the door. “I lied.”
When I finally dared to look at him, he was gone.
I didn’t sleep.
I tossed and turned in the spring warmth, uncomfortable in my own skin and mulling over Avrin’s words. He thought I would take all he expected to inherit—and I would. I should. Yet just imagining such a thing, that I would one day rule this place...
I couldn’t imagine it at all.
Avrin had been wrong in so many ways to say what he had. But he’d also been right. I didn’t deserve this, and I clearly didn’t want this. Not in the way he did. Though there was one thing he’d said I couldn’t understand, and it chased me from bed and into the quiet hall.
