Verena
A few minutes later, I've ditched the emptied helmet to move quickly and silently through the woods in the direction Eris told me to go.
The Loomdark is so dark I can barely see, but I glimpse several pairs of glowing red eyes in the distance. They blink at me, but they don't move closer.
At one point, two faintly glowing things shaped kind of like giant jellyfish drift past. One of them makes a low cooing sound as it passes way too close for comfort, but it doesn't try to take my soul or eat my face off.
As a big fan of keeping my face, I appreciate that.
When I finally step out of the cool darkness of the Loomdark and back into the warmth of Aurefeld, I look quickly over my shoulder one last time, just to see if a twisted branch is about to shish kebab my head, too.
But nothing happens.
"Verena!" Snow White's voice cries out.
She's running across the field to me. I take off toward her. Anika, Ingrid, and Wulf are at her side, Anika still holding a bloodied sword and Ingrid holding up a torch for light. We all meet somewhere in the middle.
It's a good thing I'm as tall as I am because Snow would knock a smaller woman over with how enthusiastically she barrels into me.
"Thank the goddess," Snow White sobs, throwing her arms around me.
Words pour out of her a million miles a second while I hug her back tightly, patting her shoulder to comfort her.
"You're safe! I thought the Loomdark devoured you, and I'd never get to see you again or talk to you or admit that you were right and I really, really like Hagen, and I was so worried I wouldn't get to show you how perfect it would be if you just stay here with the Huntsman and—"
As if on cue, I'm pulled from Snow White's embrace—and just like that, my face is buried in Wulf's chest. His strong arms banding tightly around me make it seem like it's just us in this world.
Mm-hmm. Yep. This is the bear hug I needed.
"Are you all right?" his low voice rumbles where my ear is pressed to his chest. "Your heart is too swift with fear."
"Yeah, well…I don't like getting my frequent kidnapping card stamped. I seem to get abducted more than most people," I add, exhaling shakily as I fight back more memories.
One of his hands smooths gently over my hair. There's heavy regret in his voice.
"I am sorry I was the first to frighten you so."
"You were the second."
Wulf pulls away so he can frown at me in confusion, but then he grits his teeth at the sight of the redness on my cheek that was slapped.
One of his warm, calloused fingers gently brushes the place where I bit my own lip.
His ice-blue gaze grows murderous. "Who did this?"
"Me."
Understanding dawns as he realizes I needed the queen's freaky blood. "Are they all dead?"
"Very," I promise.
Weirdly, that seems to piss him off further. He glowers silently at the Loomdark behind me like he wants to turn into a bear and maul whatever is left of the bandits.
"Yet again, nothing harmed you in the Loomdark," Eris muses quietly from the axe hanging near Wulf's hip. "Reinhilde rarely summoned me on her trips to gather ingredients here. Whatever she truly was, I wonder if she could always go into that dark forest without consequence."
Now that he mentions it…
If the Loomdark is home to monsters, that could include vampires. Is that why nothing attacked me in there? They simply recognized one of their kind?
Wulf's attention moves back to me with resolve. "When we return to the carriage, I will scour every inch of your body for further injuries."
My horny brain loves that idea way too much.
But I remember we have an audience when Ingrid blushes and whispers, "Oh, my."
I'm just glad she's not looking at me like I have two heads, after seeing me bite the throat of that bandit earlier.
Realizing Snow White is looking between Wulf and me with clear meaning and Anika is smirking, I decide it's time to re-establish that he and I are not an item.
We can't be, for plenty of reasons.
Even if those reasons are getting harder to remember the longer I stay in this fairytale world.
"No scouring necessary. I'm perfectly fine, just really tired," I insist.
The Huntsman clearly intends to argue, but Ingrid pipes up, concern radiating from her angelic face.
"If Her Majesty is tired, we should get back on the road to reach the next inn right away. This ordeal has been just awful, and she'll need to rest well before meeting the royals of Aurefeld tomorrow."
I haven't rested well in days, but I can only hope the nightmares take it easy on me tonight.
The nightmares did not, in fact, take it easy last night.
It didn't help that I couldn't stop thinking about the four coachmen and two Isenmerian guards who were killed during the attack. Or should I say those Boneless Bobs—because their bodies had all been spirited away by witchfolk by the time we left for the last inn, where I slept like shit.
I'm grateful to be wearing a sheer veil over my head for once, because at least it's covering my dark circles as I walk through a vaulted, ornate hallway toward Aurefeld Castle's throne room.
Wulf walks behind me. With all the reflective gold accents everywhere in this castle, Eris has no trouble keeping up as we're escorted by a prim-looking maid.
Snow White and Ingrid are resting in the room Snow was assigned to, in the wing of the castle reserved for Isenmerian guests during the festival.
Anika and her parents were also given luxurious quarters—which I hope is a good sign that whatever happened between Aurefeld's king and Anika's father is in the past.
As we reach a set of massive white double doors embellished with swirling gold patterns, I whistle.
"Ritzy."
In fact, every bit of Aurefeld Castle I've seen so far has been ritzy, golden, and massive. It's definitely bigger than Isenmere's castle and is surrounded by thriving cities and endless farmfields.
I can't seem to look anywhere without admiring gold paint, sconces, accents, or some kind of filigree.
Since this kingdom's patron is the Faerie of Greed, I guess the luxury makes sense.
The four guards stationed in front of the double doors are dressed in white uniforms with gold accents. I don't miss the way their gazes widen on me, the veiled queen of Isenmere.
Gotta love having Rhinestone's reputation as a terrifying, man-eating bitch.
I'm not sure the rumors about the queen's "change of heart" have made it to Aurefeld yet, so I can't even begin to guess what they're thinking.
When one of the male guards squints hard like he's trying to see through my sheer veil, Wulf takes a silent, threatening step forward until he's close enough to my side that our arms brush.
One of the female guards bows and addresses me, but her eyes lift to Wulf's arms, still partially bandaged. I could swear she barely stops from making a face.
"Your Majesty Queen Reinhilde, it is a great honor. You are very welcome to enter the throne room, but…your Favored shall not enter."
"Superb, because I have no Favored. The Huntsman of the North is my bodyguard."
The maid and the other guards openly gawk at him now that they know he's the Beowulf, but the guard I'm talking to shuffles nervously.
"I'm afraid northerners are not permitted under any circumstances, for they are cursed. You may bring other Isenmerian guards with you to greet my king and queen, if you wish."
I know she's just doing her job, but irritation prickles over my skin. What's even more annoying is that Wulf is neither surprised nor bothered by the prejudice against "cursed" northerners. He's clearly used to it, but makes no move to leave my side.
"He goes where I go," I insist.
"In Isenmere, perhaps, but not in Aurefeld. He should not have even been allowed onto royal grounds," another guard argues, eyeing Wulf mistrustfully.
I'm ready to become a much bigger problem for everyone when a voice calls out, "Is something amiss?"
All the guards bow at once. I turn to examine the handsome man striding toward us.
"Oh, my god. It's the Duke of Hastings," I whisper to Wulf.
Eris moves back to the Huntsman's axe for a better view. "Duke? That's the crown prince of Aurefeld."
Now that he mentions it, this guy does have a princely look, from the gleaming crown on his head to the tailored cape suit he's wearing.
A fucking cape suit. It looks amazing.
Suddenly, I'm itching to design one for someone who could pull it off—namely, Eris. With his dignified features and that majestic prismatic white hair, he would look phenomenal in a cape suit.
Maybe if Cinderella can't help me get home, I could design one for him to wear once Wulf can finally track down his body.
I'm so distracted with the prince's killer fit that it takes me a second to realize he's stopped to bow slightly to me. When he straightens, his expression is pleasant, but not warm.
"You must be Her Majesty Queen Reinhilde, Veiled Glory of Isenmere, Mirror-Blessed of the Sixth Faerie, Ayna the Proud."
"Holy shit, is that my full title?" I blurt. "Wow. Kudos to you for not running out of air halfway through that, Prince…"
Oh, no. I really should have asked about the names of the royals here.
Eris lets me struggle for one awkward second before he laughs at me and helps. "I assume this is the crown prince, Leif."
"Leif," I smile even though he can't see me through this fabric. Then I gesture at the double doors. "I'm on the way to greet your parents, but your bouncers aren't letting my bodyguard in."
Prince Leif nods politely to greet Wulf, but doesn't seem interested in helping out. Instead, he addresses me again.
"How was the trip here, Your Majesty? I heard a rumor your coachmen were attacked. That sounds unpleasant."
"Aurefeld's heir is famous for being the absolute perfect prince," Eris tells me, moving to appear in one of the nearby gold sconces. "He's not the sort to defy the rules his parents have set, so don't hold your breath for his help with Wulf's admittance."
I guess Cinderella's going to change his rule-abiding ways—since as the prince of this kingdom, he must be the guy she ends up with.