Kingdom of Villains, page 4
The prince didn’t speak for so long that I began to think he wouldn’t. “Your heart races,” he said, just above a whisper. “It’s beating hard enough to suggest you’re afraid.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar,” he crooned. “If you do not wish to tell me what ails you, then you could at least tell me what soap you use.” He drew in a long inhale, holding it as he murmured, “Lime and lily? No,” he said, and I knew he was trying to distract me, to pull me free of this anxious tailspin. “It’s mint and jasmine, isn’t—”
“They plan to kill you,” I nearly shouted, catching myself. My chest heaved, each breath burning as I dared to look at him. “I heard them talking. My uncle and his advisor.”
“I see.” If the prince was shocked, he didn’t show it. His lips wriggled a little as he cocked his head and studied me. “I had wondered as much.”
His lack of care made me glare and hiss, “Why? Why would they do that?”
“I am a monster,” the prince said, though he was smiling. “Haven’t you heard?”
“You’re all monsters. What I want to know is what makes you any worse than the rest?”
He chuckled, and the deep sound stunned me still. “But why do you wish to know?” His eyes narrowed upon mine. “Do not tell me you’ve come to care about my fate.”
“I care about the fate of this rotten continent and what would happen should you end up executed.” I swallowed, saying softer, “Because they will do it. You know they will.”
He said nothing and finally reached for the pastry.
It maddened me to the point of growling, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Too much, fire-breather,” he said simply and placed a piece of pastry over his tongue. He moaned and licked his fingers. “Too fucking much.”
The sound and action threw me from my ire—the way his lips wrapped around his soiled digits without hesitation. My stomach bubbled, but with something far more vicious than hunger and rage.
I looked at the narlows and watched one of them attempt to climb the wall and fail while the other tugged at my skirts with his teeth. This irritating prince didn’t care. He seemed resigned to it. Perhaps, he even enjoyed it. The thought of what his death would induce. The carnage our people would suffer at his hands, though he’d no longer be here to blame.
Unable to bear being in his presence, I rose and closed the cell, then I snatched the bowl perched before his. “Criminals and liars shouldn’t eat.”
“And how exactly have I lied?”
“By omitting the truth,” I clipped on the way to the door. “So I suppose your secrets will die with you.”
His low laughter stalked me long after the door had shut.
I waited until the castle slumbered before throwing off the bedding and donning my hooded robe. Sentinels roamed the grounds and stood outside of each entry and exit point.
But none ever stood guard of the unused door below the forest of a garden to the dungeon.
Outside of it, hanging upon a rusted hook behind overgrown vines, were the keys to each cell, all of them marred with disuse. I snatched them, making sure there was no jangle as I crept inside the dark rows of cells.
The prince was awake. I’d almost expected him to be asleep, given how calm he’d been earlier when I’d told him what awaited him. “Fia?”
“Up,” I hissed.
“Up?” he repeated, puzzled.
“Yes, get up.” He carefully straightened to sit against the wall and blinked. “Are you stupid?” Remembering he’d handed himself over, I muttered, “Never mind. You’ve already made that abundantly clear. Let’s go.”
He made an odd sound, a coughing laugh as if shocked. “Fire-breather indeed.” He quieted as he paid attention to my attempts to find the right key for his cell. “What are you doing?” The question was deep and low as if he were not only shocked but far from impressed.
“Baking you a cake.” I rolled my eyes. “What do you think I’m doing?” The next key fit, the mechanisms in the lock vibrating before loosening with a resounding click.
“Fia,” he warned. “This is not wise.”
“But staying here to await death is?” I pulled the door open slowly, relieved when it didn’t creak. “I will not be blamed for any future bloodshed between our kingdoms because of you.”
His eyes gleamed. “But how would anyone know?”
“I would know,” I said, glaring at him when he didn’t move.
He curled his lips. “A guilty conscience is indeed no fun.”
“Enough. Get up.” I stomped my foot. “Right this instant.”
“You’re truly freeing me?” he asked, still seated on the ground as if this were all in jest. “Just like that?”
“Yes, but with one condition.” I squared my shoulders. “Of course.”
“Of course.” He grinned. “You probably should’ve made that clear before you unlocked the door, Princess.”
I ignored that, though he was right. “You will take them with you.”
A flick of his eyes to the snoring narlows. “Take them?”
“Moon murder me, you are daft indeed.” I sighed. “Yes, take them. Take them back to Eldorn, where they stand a far better chance of survival.”
He licked his teeth, then exhaled roughly and looked up at me.
His jaw flexed and firmed, dusted with enough hair that if given another day or two, he’d have himself a beard. A shame, a tiny voice tittered in the recesses of my mind, winding through the panic and urgency, to have the stunning severity of that jaw unavailable to the eye.
He knocked me from thoughts that made me feel like the only stupid creature here. “But your uncle is right, Fia.”
“I’m not saying he’s wrong. You’re a monster, rotten and terrible, and you’ve probably committed atrocities, etcetera, etcetera. I understand.” I crossed to the narlow’s cell and opened the unlatched door. “Just keep it all confined to your kingdom and go.”
“Etcetera, etcetera?” he repeated with a low laugh. “You are seriously something—”
“I will murder you myself if you don’t hurry up,” I snapped, bending down to make sure all the narlows were accounted for inside their nest. “So do you wish to live?” I asked. “Or die? You know the latter is inevitable if you remain right where you are.”
He was quiet for so long that I grew worried he indeed had a death wish. Whatever he’d done, whatever he was, he clearly felt more comfortable caged and with the likelihood of dying than he did with his newfound freedom.
But then he murmured, the command gentle, “Wrap them up, ensure they can’t fall free,” and I heard him climb to his feet.
I did as he said, but only after quickly rubbing each little head. “Stay in here,” I whispered, my eyes burning as I wound the blankets into an inescapable knot.
The prince stalked to the end of the dungeon, to the rope used for hanging criminals from the ceiling who needed extra encouragement to talk. He snatched a blade from a small selection on the wall and cut the rope down without the need to even lift his toes.
It was then I felt a belated sense of concern over my actions.
He was so incredibly tall that his head nearly met the dungeon’s ceiling. Muscular, too, I acknowledged, courtesy of the large, gaping tear in the back of his tunic. He was broad-shouldered without being overly bulky like some of our soldiers, his torso tapering perfectly.
Colvin rehung the blade and collected his cloak from the floor of his cell, the fabric rippling as he shouldered it on. I stepped back into the iron bars, barely feeling their effect through my robe as he headed for the door to the gardens.
If I were him, I’d have taken the knife with me. Then again, he had certainly proven himself to be lacking in intelligence.
At the door, the prince waited. I remembered the cubs I was still holding to my chest and all but threw them at him. Again, I stepped back as he looped the rope through the knot I’d made and checked its strength before tying it around his neck.
He left enough give that the cubs rocked near his waist as he erased the space between us. I opened my mouth to bark a warning I couldn’t conjure when he clasped my cheeks.
His giant hands swallowed them, and my neck cricked as I tilted it back. Our eyes met, his wild and searching. Then to my horror and complete surprise, so did our lips.
I’d never been kissed, but I’d imagined that when it happened, it would be clumsy and wet. At least at first. I’d also imagined it would have been Regin.
I’d have never imagined this.
Him.
This burning that froze every part of me, that rendered me incapable of feeling anything outside of the gentle press of his soft lips against mine. They parted, just slightly, as his mouth slid over my own, breath rushing from him and flooding my skin and lips. He was smoke and ice, an intoxicating combination that shouldn’t exist.
“Fire-breather.” The whisper singed, my heart unmoving in my chest. “Mother of monsters.” Cupping the back of my head, he stiffened as his forehead met mine.
Our eyes opened at the same time, his wild once more and his brows low, my own stuck on the growing crimson moving over his.
Then he was gone, and my heart restarted with a rattle that shook everything into chaotic disorder inside me.
A thief after all.
Sleep captured me as soon as my head hit one of the many cushions sprawled across my bed.
It wouldn’t be until some hours later, the sun blinding over the river beneath the mountains, that I felt the full weight of my actions.
The guards didn’t shout or make any ruckus over the missing prisoner. I supposed they couldn’t, being that few creatures had known the Unseelie prince had been here at all. But there was talk. The type of talk that I’d typically pass off as gossip.
Typically.
Heading downstairs out of curiosity and in search of food, I’d halted at overhearing, “I heard from Adon, who heard it from Gregorn, that the king seeks an escaped dragon. Can you believe it? We had a dragon right here.” Shrulin feigned a shiver. “Practically lying in wait under our beds.”
The two ladies huddled together as they walked toward the doors leading to the courtyard on the western side of the castle. Their skirts, intricate layers of gauzy chiffon and stunned butterflies, dragged along the stone with grating slowness, making it nearly impossible to stalk them to catch a whiff of what they were saying.
I gave up on worrying whether they’d notice me as Froma murmured, “It has to be the Eldorn prince. I could be wrong, but being that every dragon in history was an heir of the Eldorn line, I highly doubt I am.”
Oh, my bleeding stars.
A gasp from Shrulin. “No.”
Froma hummed. “Dark times lay ahead.” Though she sounded more intrigued than perturbed. “Last time, hundreds, some even say thousands of lives were lost to its frightful maw and fire-breathing rage.”
I can indeed play with fire.
My head filled with a dizzying, unstoppable wave.
I turned to the nearest rose bush and vomited.
Mercifully, the ladies had moved on, their floating shawls marking their whereabouts deeper within the maze of hedges.
It was no wonder Colvin hadn’t taken the blade from the dungeon. That he’d needed the rope to secure the narlows to himself. He’d need to materialize.
Or fly.
A dragon. A fucking dragon.
“Fia,” Regin called, but I almost puked again, heaving as I gripped my stomach and chest. “Fia?” His hand met my back. “Shit, did you eat the apprentice’s attempt at berry stew, too?”
“No,” I wheezed.
“Then what’s wrong?” Looking up at him beneath my damp lashes, I watched his face pale. He clasped my cheeks, and the need to expel more from my empty stomach arrived again as I recalled the prince holding me the same way just hours ago. “Fi, what is it?”
I shouldn’t have said a word. I knew that.
To tell anyone what I’d done, that I knew of the prince being in our dungeon at all, was to implicate myself. Not to mention, it would make matters worse for my uncle should more people find out.
But I couldn’t contain it. It was a poison I needed to evict, and so I rasped, “You cannot tell a soul.”
Regin tapped his palm over his heart in promise, frowning when I still couldn’t bring myself to say it. “Come on, it can’t be any worse than bringing a foal into the castle with you for dinner because it had a fever.”
Oh, how I wished it were as simple as a foal breaking statues and priceless heirlooms.
I shook my head, swallowing hard.
His smile waned rapidly. “It’s bad then.”
“Really, really bad.”
My elbow knocked the wall, and a broom fell into the door with a clatter.
“We should—” My lips were pressed closed by Regin’s, his hands tugging at my skirts. “Go,” I said, breathless as I pushed gently at his chest.
“To a larger room?” Kisses peppered across my jaw, fingers smoothing up my sides. “Probably.”
I laughed. “It’s my birthday. We can’t keep disappearing.”
“Exactly, it’s your ball,” he said, groaning as my fingers delved into his blond hair. “You can do whatever you like.”
I wished that were true. Nothing would please me more than dragging Regin upstairs to a secluded room to finish what we’d both been continuously stopping and starting since the ballroom had begun to fill a few hours ago.
He’d been gone for two weeks on a scouting mission, but for almost a month prior, he’d made it abundantly clear that not only were my secrets safe with him, no matter how much he didn’t understand or agree with them, but that I was safe with him too.
In many differing ways.
I tore away when his mouth attempted to steal mine and stumbled to the door, laughing. “Enough.” I moved the broom and peered out into the hall before exiting and righting my lemon and lace skirts. The bodice of my gown had been constructed from pressed bluebells and a moss so delicate and soft that it would surely begin to crumble from the soldier’s rough hands if I wasn’t careful.
Regin followed, adjusting himself and grumbling to my hair, “Twenty minutes, and then we’re through with all this pomp.”
I smirked, my hand capturing his as we raced down the stairs to the ballroom doors below. “I was thinking fifteen, but if you believe you can wait that long…”
He tugged me into his chest, nipping at my cheek.
The doors crashed open, and we separated, but our hands remained joined. It was not exactly a secret, the advancement of our friendship, for lack of a better term. But we had no better term for it. Not yet. For now, I was content with that. With the comforting squeeze of my hand that reassured me he was with me. That I had him. That this was real.
Jilgens had already exploded upon my earlier entrance, their powdery pollen staining the air with floating clouds of color. Pinks and reds, colors often chosen for celebrations, dusted the floor and many a gown and dress shirt.
I’d thankfully escaped the carnage when Regin had taken advantage of the explosion and cheering and laughter to drag me upstairs.
My uncle was seated upon the dais in the center of the table hosting the great feast. His frosted gaze met mine when we delved deeper into the dancing bodies. I forced a smile, immediately looking away when he raised his goblet to his mouth and eyed me curiously.
He still didn’t know.
I’d spent weeks evading him as much as possible and waiting with bated breath to see what might happen next. If the dragon would be hunted or simply ignored until he could be ignored no longer. Whatever it was they’d decided, Regin held no knowledge, and the rumors of the dragon’s existence had faded within days.
As if he were never here and did not exist at all.
I was certain it was all for show. That whatever plans my uncle and Karn had were now kept under impenetrable lock and key.
Regardless, I decided mere days after releasing the prince that, besides what was expected of me, I would finally cease what everyone deemed an endless search for trouble in all forms. I attended my lessons until they’d finished with the first notes of spring, and I made sure the only talk I gave people was that of the increased time spent with the captain of the guard’s son.
Fear and regret were the key ingredients I’d needed to finally learn my lesson.
“Dance with me,” Regin warned more than said, and I choked on a laugh as I was hauled to his chest. His arm banded behind my back, his hand still clutching mine as he began to sway.
“You know I loathe to dance,” I whispered to his neck, feeling eyes upon us.
“Think of it as another form of foreplay.”
I tilted my head back, grinning. “That is what you think of dancing?” My grin fell into a scowl as I remembered all the times I’d watched him dance with the daughters of nobles over the years.
With a slight wince, he sighed and then licked his lips, eyes leaving those around us to meet mine. “Anything with you is foreplay, Fi.”
My breath caught, then fled when he spun me around and brought me back to his chest right as a scream sounded.
Wineglasses crashed to the floor.
Fiddles and flutes ceased as another scream gave way to an ear-bleeding orchestra of them.
The sky outside the glassless windows of the ballroom darkened, but not with clouds nor the gathering night.
It darkened with monsters.
One by one, they materialized into the ballroom, curling wisps of shadows and burned time clouding the air.
Regin cursed, pulling me toward the back of the room.
Guards shouted, rushing in and—
Dead.
Males with scales for beards and piercing reptilian eyes slid dark green talons across their necks, ending them quicker than a single rapid beat of a heart.
“Shit,” Regin hissed, and we halted in the middle of the room.
