Amid Clouds and Bones

ONE

A rat crawled through a pile of bones.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs, and I hugged my bent knees tighter to my chest. My wet nose pressed against my silk skirts. The gold flowers among the pink and crimson pleats shimmered in the gloom. Bernie would be cross with me. It was my best gown.

Sharp, hurried steps grew closer.

Two cells away from mine, the rat squeaked and darted through the bars, headed for a small hole in the farthest wall of the dungeon.

As Bernie sighed upon finding me, I wished I could escape so easily. “A dungeon is no place for a princess.”

“I don’t want to be a princess anymore,” I said.

It wasn’t entirely true.

Being a princess hadn’t always been so bad. I didn’t have to do any of the things Bernie did. She often said I was lucky because I was allowed to play as much as I liked, as long as I remained out of sight from visitors and during important events. But if it meant escaping the Fae, then I would gladly surrender my title.

Surely, there was someone much better suited for a monster. Someone far braver and bolder. I didn’t understand why it had to be me.

Bernie leaned against the bars of my cage, unaffected by the iron.

Her auburn hair had been combed into a tight bun. Ringlets sprouted free from the perfect nest, reaching for her heart- shaped face. Confident, refined, and unflinchingly dedicated to her duty as the future queen of Nephryn, my older sister was everything I wasn’t.

But it was something else that caused a seed of resentment to bloom.

Princess Bernadette was human.

Therefore, the favored heir.

Her mother, Queen Agatha, liked to pretend I didn’t exist, which suited me fine. When she deigned to acknowledge me, nothing good usually followed.

She was likely going to punish me for this.

Bernie’s lips had been painted rose-red. They tilted affectionately as she offered her hand. “Come, butter.”

I couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t called me that. It made me loathe how my pale yellow hair set me apart from the rest of my family just a tiny bit less.

“I can’t.” My heart hadn’t ceased racing since I woke. I was certain if I was wholly human, it would have failed me. “I don’t want to leave you.” I rasped, “Why are you making me?”

Her shoulders slumped. “You’re not going anywhere today, Mildred,” she said. “You won’t wed the prince for a very long time.”

Not nearly long enough.

My mind twirled. Darkness crawled from the corners of the dungeon toward me. I closed my eyes. “I think I might be sick. Tell Father and Stepmother that I’m unwell.”

Bernie laughed, light and airy as if I were merely regaling her with one of my adventures in the woods. “Butter, you are ten years of age. You need not even look at Prince Atakan if you do not want to.”

Just hearing his name made my stomach clench.

Having faerie hearing often provided immense entertainment—until I heard things I did not wish to. Murmurs from the staff had been circulating for days. They said the Seelie prince was a monster. That although he wasn’t even full grown, he was known as Atakan the heartless.

“All you need to do is come outside and be present for a little while,” Bernie said softly. “That’s all.”

Pondering that, I opened my eyes. “Two minutes?”

Another laugh fractured the darkness that dizzied. “Perhaps a bit longer than that, but I will do my best to make it brief.”

I blinked up at her. “Truly?”

“Truly.” She smiled and offered her hand again.

I stared at it, chewing my sore lip. I’d gnawed at it too much this morning. “But what if they try to hurt me?”

“No one means you harm, Mildred. Quite the opposite. This is the beginning of a powerful alliance. One that will help make this continent peaceful for centuries to come.”

Peaceful.

Before this arrangement had been brought to my attention mere weeks ago, I hadn’t known the faerie kingdoms were at war or that the continent of Elaysia was such a dangerous place. Then again, I’d rarely left the castle grounds.

Father and Bernie said I wasn’t old enough to accompany them on their journeys. A nicer way of saying what Stepmother never had any issue telling me—that I wasn’t to be seen or heard.

So while they were gone, I ventured through the woods, pretending our hounds were magical steeds and logs were bridges that hid dark wonders beneath.

Dark wonders were fun to imagine until they became all too real.

“How will I manage to accomplish that?” I asked, panicked by the mere thought of such ginormous responsibility.

“By simply being your magical, adventurous, and cunning self,” Bernadette said, a brow rising. “Now, let us hurry before Mother decides to come searching for you.”

Queen Agatha’s fury would undoubtedly ensure embarrassment now and punishment later.

I winced and placed my hand in Bernadette’s as she stepped forward to tug me from the ground. Atop the spiraling stone stairs of the dungeon, she stopped to fuss with my gown, brushing dust and cobwebs from the skirts.

“You’ve soiled it dreadfully,” she admonished, then exhaled heavily. “There’s no time to change, so we’ll just hope no one notices.”

I trailed her through the sunlit halls.

Beneath the melody of flutes, conversations grew in volume, a compass to our destination. Fresh wildflowers overflowed from vases upon every table and deep windowsill. Wreaths had been strung from doorways and even the terrace awning vines. The colors were all the same. A collection of luminous yellows and light blues.

Our kingdom’s royal color was gold and the Seelie faerie kingdom of Ethermore blue.

I stopped to reach for the velvet petals above the door.

Bernie yanked my hand, and I stumbled to her side upon the stone terrace. The sudden warmth of so many bodies momentarily stalled my breathing.

“Just like I told you.” Bernie leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Imagine they’re all sheep, and you are a wolf cub, untouchable no matter how small.”

It worked for only a minute.

These people were not sheep. I tried, but as we passed Stepmother’s fancy friends and Father’s guards and advisers, I couldn’t envision it.

As rows upon rows of gray-and-blue uniforms blocked my view of my beloved gardens, I couldn’t see a path forward for a wolf surrounded by immortal monsters.

There were so many of them on the grass. All of them were so big, so tall, I could scarcely see the treetops of the woods beyond their emblem-adorned shoulders.

Before the endless sea of rigid blue stood our father and a tall male whose face was blocked by the sun.

Hearing our approach, Father turned and smiled brightly, though the edges of his mouth appeared to flatten. “Bernadette.” He placed a hand on her lower back and grasped my wrist to tug me to his other side. “Here she is.” He released me, but his heavy hand fell upon my shoulder, a comfort and a warning to stay put. “My Mildred.”

I didn’t notice his arrival. Those perfect rows of blue-bedecked men squashing our emerald grass with their bulky boots were still all I could see. Except they were not men at all.

They were Fae.

And I wasn’t sure I was breathing as I finally looked up at the tall boy who was not a boy but a faerie prince.

My future husband.

Atakan didn’t look at me. Rather, he seemed more interested in a beetle crawling through the grass by his feet.

He squashed it so suddenly that I jumped.

My father’s hand firmed on my shoulder. “This is King Garran.”

Slowly, Atakan removed the pointed toe of his boot from the beetle’s remains and looked up.

Before his eyes could meet mine, I gave them to the Seelie king. He had shoulder-length hair, the color reminiscent of sand, and a warm smile that didn’t quite match his hazel eyes.

He nodded once. “How lovely it is to make your acquaintance, young princess.”

My father chuckled jovially when I failed to speak. “And this is his son, Prince Atakan.” Fingers tapping at my shoulder, he cleared his throat. “Don’t be shy now.” With a gentle push, he propelled me forward. “Say hello.”

“Hello,” I squeaked as a trembling exhale rushed from my chest, and I made sure to stop as far away from him as what might be deemed appropriate. I remembered what Bernie had instructed me to say over dinner last night and gripped my skirts with clammy hands. Curtsying, I forced a smile as I straightened. “I’m pleased to meet you, Your Highness.”

A lie I hoped he couldn’t detect.

My eyes met his—burning bronze with glowing flecks of green. “Pleasure,” he drawled as if it were not a pleasure at all.

My nose crinkled.

He glowered at it, golden brows slashing over his fascinating eyes.

A rough bout of laughter dragged my gaze beyond the prince as King Garran clapped his shoulder. “You’ll need to forgive my son’s lack of manners. He was born upon a full moon, and I’ve been unable to rid the audacity from him ever since.”

My father laughed once more. I wondered if I was the only one who could tell it was forced. “Let us feast, and let the young ones get to know one another.”

Instantly, the stiff tension in the spring air snapped as people moved.

As whispers turned into chatter, and chatter into laughter, I ducked behind my father and waited for an opportunity to dash across the grass to the terrace unnoticed.

The faerie guards remained before the rose bushes. But they stiffly acknowledged our guards when they broke formation from the hedges lining the castle walls to greet them.

It was just what I needed.

But as soon as I reached the terrace, Agatha gripped my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” She knocked a russet curl from her plump cheek as she hissed, “You will walk with the Seelie prince, Mildred.”

I blinked up at her, the sun’s glow harshening the warning in her chocolate eyes. “But…”

“Go.” She tossed my arm and ushered me toward the faerie guards.

Terror seized my bones when I looked back at the terrace. My father and King Garran headed inside, presumably to talk as kings did. Bernie chatted with her betrothed, a quiet nobleman named Royce, who went red in the cheeks at just the sight of her.

And Prince Atakan stood before a cluster of his guards, all of whom seemed disinclined to greet our own.

Hands tucked before him, the prince eyed everything with what could only be described as disgust. He didn’t want to be here. I would wager my entire rare rock collection that he didn’t want anything to do with this alliance.

At least we had one thing in common.

It emboldened me to continue across the grass. “I’ve been told to walk with you.”

The breeze sent white-blond strands of hair over his sharp cheek. “Do you always do as you’re told?” he asked without so much as glancing at me. “Truly an infant.”

“I am not an infant,” I said defiantly. “I am almost eleven years of age.”

He scoffed.

Bernie had told me the prince was fifteen years of age, and that in time, our ages would not mean much of anything. Now, I wasn’t sure I believed her.

As the prince sighed and muttered something about his goddess, I had a horrid feeling that no matter how old I was, he would still rather be anywhere that wasn’t near me.

He fell in step beside me. His shadow swayed upon the grass as he swiped a hand through his long blond hair. Longer than his father’s, it sat straight beneath his shoulders.

Never had I felt small. A nuisance, yes, but never small.

I’d always been a head taller than all the younglings at court. Yet I did feel like an infant next to him.

Atakan seemed as tall as my favorite climbing tree, and he smelled similarly, too. Most people smelled like bottled flowers and powders, or musky and unwashed. But his scent was an odd mixture of burning oak and peaches.

Knowing I had to say something, I admitted quietly, “I’ve never seen a faerie before today.”

The prince said nothing. Each step he took seemed unworthy of his energy.

I blurted, “You smell different.”

“As do you,” he said. “Do all halflings smell like a mildewed corpse?”

It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t merely picking on me but that he could scent the dungeon. A moment too long, for I spewed, “I’d rather smell like a corpse than act like one.”

His rich laughter prickled my nape, and I froze in fear.

He walked to the maple tree, far enough to provide privacy from faerie ears but not so far that his guards couldn’t see us. Knee-high black boots hugged his matching tight pants. Unlike his guards, his boots were not bulky but slim, and the thick leather agleam.

Hesitantly, I followed.

He leaned against the trunk. “It has claws.” His arms crossed, crushing the gaping pale-blue sleeves of his airy and frothy tunic. “You’ll need more than that for where you’re headed.”

I didn’t dare stand too close, stopping as soon as my feet reached the shade of the tree. The breeze tossed my loose curls across my burning face. “Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, brows high.

I nodded and waited, gazing up at him though I wished desperately to look anywhere else. He was as handsome as the rumors claimed.

And just as cruel.

His smile was venomous, full lips curving to one side to reveal a devious dimple. He pressed a boot against the bark of the tree. “You’ll see.”

My stomach tightened. “My sister says a husband is supposed to protect their wife.”

Bernie had promised that, no matter how forced a marriage, a husband was duty-bound to ensure their wife’s contentment.

As if my fear and thoughts had conjured her, she called my name in the distance.

Prince Atakan’s gaze flicked toward the faint sound, then fell upon me, glimmering with green shards. “Let me make myself crystal fucking clear, little thing.” My eyes widened at the ease with which he’d cussed. “Out of all the dangers awaiting you in my court, I’m the one you’ll need to be protected from.”

Tears stung my eyes.

Before I could surrender to the urge to flee, he stalked past me, leaving me chilled in the shade of the maple tree.