2. Chapter Two
~Evalina~
“Watch out, Lina,” my best friend, Keerla, whispered, glancing over her shoulder as she bustled into the kitchen, her arms laden with fruit from the forest. In the waning days of autumn, the berries for which our home was named were almost too plentiful and their sweet, tart scent filled the air as she walked past, her springy blonde curls bouncing with each step. “Tarron is on his way down here.”
Stifling a groan, I looked over the dishes in front of me, all in various states of preparation for that night’s meal. Could I hide for a few minutes without ruining anything? Probably not, even though I would have gladly stuffed myself into a cupboard to avoid another encounter with the high prince. Wiping the sweat from my brow as the fire crackled behind me, I resumed my work.
Not a minute later, his tall, slender frame filled the doorway. The kitchen’s warmth seemed to chill as his sharp gaze swept the room, and the heels of his shoes tapped softly against the stone floor with each step he took inside. Keerla and I both stopped what we were doing, bowing our heads in respect as women in our position were expected to.
Not that I felt any respect towards the man; in my view, respect should be earned, not given by birthright, and Tarron had done nothing to earn mine.
“Is everything ready for tonight, Evalina?”
“It will be, Your Highness,” I replied, bobbing a curtsey and keeping my head down as I resumed my work. Now that he’d addressed me, I could safely move again. Poor Keerla had to remain still since her presence hadn’t been acknowledged yet.
His smooth, imperious tone grated on my nerves more than a dragon’s screech. “Do you know who’s visiting us tonight?”
Gossip moved fast in Etta, especially when it involved the royal family. I’d heard the rumours. However, I played dumb, my head still down. All I could see of him were his pointed green velvet shoes. “No, Your Highness.”
His deep chuckle filled the room, sending an uncomfortable shiver down my spine that I did my best to hide. “I think you do. You’re just jealous.”
The arrogance of the man knew no bounds. As if I would be jealous of the poor woman whose parents were dragging her there to see if she could catch the Etta prince’s eye. If she were lucky, he’d have no interest in her and she could return home with no harm done.
I could only dream of such a luxury. My home, and my mother, were in Etta. I had nowhere else to go.
Burying those thoughts, I acknowledged that I did, in fact, know who the guests were that evening. “I hope that you will find your equal and be happy, Your Highness.”
The air thickened as he stepped closer, the sharp scent of Etta blossoms native to his bloodline overwhelming everything else. The cooking food, the fruit Keerla had gathered, and even the fire’s smoke all receded beneath the floral aroma that clung to him like a second skin.
Some women found it attractive. I’d even heard it called an aphrodisiac, but it only made me feel a little nauseated when I got too close to any of the royal family. I’d learned to hold my breath when they were in the room or breathe through my mouth so it didn’t affect me so strongly, but when he got as close to me as he did then, it became harder to hide the way it made my stomach churn.
As usual, Tarron misinterpreted the reason for me turning my head away and he reached over to hook my chin, pulling my face towards him and upward so I had no choice but to look directly at him.
Calling him unattractive would have been a lie. Lavender eyes the colour of Etta blossoms sat nestled beneath his jet-black hair and above his high, sculpted cheekbones. His lips were a deep shade of red and his straight, white teeth gleamed as his lips parted.
Beautiful .
No other word really did him justice, but he wielded his beauty like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. After tormenting me for sport for years, he’d suddenly decided he wanted me, and the charm offensive was a full-on assault. I couldn’t imagine the reason for his interest other than me being pretty much the only woman in Etta who didn’t fawn over him.
“Jealousy is unnecessary. Be my amorta and you can have everything you want. You can leave all of this behind.”
His hand flicked dismissively over the kitchen and food, my day’s work, his nose wrinkling in distaste as if he found it all beneath him.
He’d made the offer before and I’d turned him down. Not just once or twice either. It had become almost a daily routine over the past few weeks, as if he thought I might eventually agree as long as he kept asking. It only proved how little he knew me because I wouldn’t be any man’s second choice, let alone his. Amorta might be the fancy word that we used for it, but an official lover would always be second to a prince’s wife, and I would rather work all day in the kitchens than pledge myself to a man who didn’t consider me worthy of being his one and only love.
Tarron knew nothing about what I wanted. How could he when he never thought of anything but himself?
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying as much. “You flatter me, Your Highness, but I can’t accept.”
“Because of your mother,” he said, filling in the rest of the sentence that I left unspoken.
I’d given him that excuse before. Because of my mother’s ill health, I needed to devote my attention to her, and he deserved a woman who could give herself entirely to him. It skirted the issue that I simply didn’t want to be his amorta. Confessing that out loud could have resulted in me losing my job entirely, and that would have been disastrous when my meagre income was all that kept me and my mother from complete ruin.
“Yes. I’m glad you understand.”
Turning my head out of his grasp, I returned to my work. My fingers moved mechanically as I sliced my knife through the fruit, the blade thudding softly against the cutting board.
Still, he didn’t leave. “What if I told you I’ve discovered the cure for your mother’s ailments?”
Beside me, Keerla stifled a gasp, and I couldn’t stop my head from flying back up, turning to face the prince with my mouth agape. “You have?”
None of the healers knew what was wrong with her. She’d fallen ill a few months earlier, forcing her to leave her job in the kitchen and take to her bed. Every day, she got weaker. I’d taken over from her so that the position would still be open for her when she recovered, but as time went on, it seemed less and less likely that she would ever be the way she was before.
“Of course I’ll share it with you,” Tarron said, sounding almost compassionate until his lips twisted into a satisfied smile. “ If you agree to be my amorta.”
“You have a potential bride dining with you tonight,” I reminded him, indignation bubbling inside me on behalf of the woman I’d never met as well as for myself. “Shouldn’t you be focused on her?”
“It will be easier to tell her before we marry that I already have a lover than to bring one on afterwards,” he replied with a shrug. “Less drama that way.”
He was unbelievable, but I ignored his callousness to focus on the more immediate issue for me. “How do I know you truly have the cure?”
His pretty face darkened into a scowl, his hand darting out to grip my arm. Bony fingers bit into my skin like iron clamps, sending a sharp pain radiating up to my shoulder. A cold knot formed in my stomach at his show of strength, but I forced my face to remain impassive.
“Are you calling me a liar, Evalina?”
There was the Tarron I remembered from my childhood, the one who would fling insults with abandon but could never take any criticism. The one who had made an enemy of the more powerful fae courts because he considered himself above them all, requiring his father to seek an alliance with a noble bride to smooth over the feathers he’d ruffled.
“No, of course not,” I stammered, hating that I had to make a liar of myself to appease him. “I’m just surprised. None of the healers have been able to find one.”
“I have sources,” he sneered, his fingers still digging firmly into my arm. “I’m a powerful man, and if you were smart, you would take my offer. It would be a shame if your mother died because you couldn’t make up your mind.”
My blood ran cold as his words sank in. Was that a threat? It certainly sounded like one.
As if he had caught a glimpse of his ugliness in my eyes, his scowl disappeared and his beatific smile returned as he let me go and took a step back. “Consider my offer. It won’t last forever, and any other woman in your position would kill for it. Isn’t that right, Kerala?”
He got my friend’s name wrong as he glanced over at her, but she dipped her head in agreement anyway as she broke her frozen pose, her shoulders as stiff as her tone. “Yes, Your Highness.”
With a smirk, he disappeared out the door, and I slammed my palm down onto the countertop in frustration. “If he were any more full of himself, he wouldn’t fit through that door anymore.”
Keerla rolled her neck to ease the sore muscles. “Do you really think he knows how to cure your mother?”
If Tarron truly had the cure, and I wasn’t at all convinced he did, I would find a way to get it without selling my soul. “I have an idea how I can find out for sure, but I’ll need your help.”