Chapter Four
Asher
I n my dreams, I recalled the pain of death and lies—the festering wounds that bubble and burst from the life and truth that seek freedom from their confines. More than that, I dreamt of what life would be like if only I had known better.
***
Day One.
My eyes did not see. My ears did not hear. But my body—my skin, my bones, my mind—they felt. Yes, I felt it all.
***
Day Two.
His voice was soft, his accent strong—like his tongue was too heavy to lift sometimes. It was peaceful, listening as he offered ballads of war and love and death. Yet, I could not will my eyes to open, my limbs to move. Perhaps they were gone. But my ears, they were there, and they listened as the golden-haired prince sang.
***
Day Three.
My blood felt as if it boiled within me, a crack and sizzle that scorched its way to my still-beating heart.
Alive. I was alive.
Despite the fire blazing within me, my skin was pebbled and my limbs were shivering. The moment I acknowledged the chill of the air and the stone floor beneath me, my teeth began to chatter, as if my mind had just realized my jaw was still there. A sound to my left forced my heavy lids open, the startling awareness of another being nearby sending fear clawing up my spine. I tried to sit up, to take on a defensive position of any kind, but a rock connected with my temple, pain shooting through my head.
No, not a rock. There was no rock. I knew this agony well. I could still recall the first time I had been sentenced to my low level room—could feel the way the leather band scraped against my neck. I was five the first time my magic got away from me. The first time I was punished for an outburst. The screams that had torn my throat to shreds, the tears that had stained my cheeks for days, the piercing ache of my head—yes, it was a blocker that was doing this to me.
“Asher? Oh my gods, you are awake. Hold on, let me grab that water. Stay still, please.” That voice, the heavy and deep tune so different when he was not singing, lulled me. I laid my head back upon the stone, content to listen for once. Every part of my body hurt, as if I had been thrown off a cliffside and forced to simply deal with the pain of it all. Perhaps that was how everyone lived. I had never been taught to bandage my wounds. There were many things I had not been taught. I could not cook or sew, could not clean or sail. And maybe that was to make sure I was never able to exist beyond the gilded walls of the palace I grew up in. Or maybe it was because I let myself be a prisoner and never asked for anything more than I was given.
Maybe it was both.
“Okay, I am going to try to help you sit up, but I need you to first crawl to the bars. It will hurt. Gods above, I know it will hurt. But if you can get to me, Asher, I can help you,” Sterling vowed, his voice a broken whisper. I knew then that he was not aware of just how many times I had been in this very predicament. Chuckling, I willed my hands to flatten upon the ground below, pushing my torso up and lifting my horribly heavy head. Nausea rolled through me in waves, my body begging me to simply lay down and sleep once more. But I ignored the aches and pains and desperate need for rest. Instead, I moved to my forearms and pulled myself to the left—to the mortal prince beyond the bars. That was when I felt it.
My back protested the movement, the freshly healed skin splitting and blood dripping to mix with the dried flakes from days ago. With a cry of both pain and fury, I dragged my body across the stone. Sterling croaked out a praise, urging me to continue. When my fingertips touched the icy iron of the bars that separated our cages of captivity, I gasped in relief. Sterling’s large hand gripped my wrist, gently tugging me the rest of the way. Looking up, I met his gaze of pure anguish, those warm brown irises staring right back at me.
“You did perfectly, Asher. Now let me help.” As he reached through the bars, bringing a metal cup of what I desperately hoped was water to my lips, I allowed myself to take him in. He titled the cup, water slowly filling my mouth, and I watched the way his jaw flexed in concentration. It was more square than Theon’s version, his cheekbones higher and his skin paler. His curls were far more wild, like his sister’s spun locks.
Too much water entered my mouth, my distraction causing me to choke. Panic flooded his face, his eyes widening and jaw going slack. I laughed through the burn in my throat, noticing how his shoulders slumped when I finally took a full breath. His torso was bare for some reason, the malnutrition he suffered obvious in his protruding collarbones and ribs.
Sterling set down the cup then. Those green-flecked brown irises flicked downwards momentarily before quickly returning to my own. I cocked my head to the left, the motion making my heart ache as I thought of whose habit I had adopted. All of that sorrow was quickly replaced with horror though, because Sterling’s fingers were moving toward my chest. I jolted back, feeling my back cry out as more skin separated and ripped open. Sterling froze, his fingers inches from me.
“I am sorry, I was just trying to finish buttoning my shirt,” he said.
His shirt?
Looking down, I realized why Sterling was bare chested. His dirty and torn shirt was on me, mostly hiding my skin beneath. But the top two buttons were left open, revealing the swell of my breasts.
“How did you get your shirt on me?” I asked, my voice hoarse. My arms shook with the effort it took to hold up my upper body, and I wondered if I would be better off just laying back down. But then Sterling let out a deep sigh, and all I could do was watch his eyes lose focus as he recalled what happened.
“Actually, it was not me. I assume you know who Malcolm is?” I nodded, the hiss that seemed to rattle my chest a startling sound. Sterling chuckled wryly before continuing. “Yeah, I am not a fan of his either. I did ask him if he would put it on you, though. Perhaps it was because I never ask anything of him, but he did it without question. Gentle does not begin to explain how he was with you. It was almost…familial. The care he afforded you, it was like a father with their small child.”
Those words hung between us momentarily, Sterling’s button nose scrunched and brows furrowed in thought. For my part, I could think of nothing but the way he had whispered to me upon the battlefield in Behman.
“I remember when these had points, you know.”
“Well,” the prince said, stealing my focus back, “it does not really matter. No amount of niceties can make up for what he has done to you. I am not attempting to sway you at all. I just thought you should know.” His head leaned forward as he spoke, forehead touching the iron bars between us. Other than his eyes, jaw, and height, he was just like the Sterling who had severed my ribs and bruised my skin.
With a deep breath, I reminded myself of what I had learned. Theon had been masquerading as Sterling. He had been the one to hurt me. This Sterling, the real one, had been held captive. There was no reason to think he would hurt me. Not yet.
Nodding, I leaned towards him, watching as his hands once more moved through the bars. His fingers made quick work of the buttons, never touching my skin, and then he backed away. Offering me the space I wanted—needed. I tried to breathe through the fear, the memories of those hands—no, not those hands—around my neck.
“How did this happen to you?” This time my voice was a sad excuse for a whisper, the rasp of it so painful I choked on the final word. Sterling’s lips pursed before he grabbed the cup once more and offered me another sip.
“Drink, then I will help you lie back down,” he ordered.
Water halted the argument on the tip of my tongue, and I found myself thinking back to Genevieve’s undying love for her younger brother. The desperation she so clearly felt to get him back. This man in front of me, he was the one who had earned that trust and love. It was that realization that had me gulping the lukewarm water and allowing him to help me lie down. When I was once more settled upon the stone floor, his voice rang, the first thread of Sterling’s story being woven.
“When I turned eighteen, I left Maliha for the first time. My family is not devout, nor do they enjoy traveling, so there was never a reason to go anywhere before then. But I am a curious person, and I survive on the high of learning. Above all else, I seek to know more—to become so full on the knowledge of the world that I am bursting at my seams.” Sterling’s chest rose and fell in quick movements, his head still against the bars as he spoke. But he looked me in the eye as he told his story, his gaze never straying. It was as if he wished for me to know how important these words were to him.
“In four years, I saw the entirety of the Mortal Realm. Every kingdom, every castle, every mountain, every river. It was glorious and gratifying, so I gorged myself upon it all. Yet, when I returned home with notebooks full of what I had gleaned and maps so heavily marked they could no longer be read, I was still not full. More food was out there, if only I could taste it.” Another humorless chuckle left his lips, and then he was sliding down the bars, adjusting himself to lie down. When his knees and nose were against the iron like mine, he continued. “It was that curiosity that was my true downfall.”
Silence momentarily hugged us, the cold embrace a hollow feeling. I took the time to wonder what it must be like to know you have only a handful of decades to truly live. What must it be like, to live upon time that felt borrowed? To exist knowing death looms nearby, constantly waiting to steal you away from life’s loving hold? To be mortal?
“Barely a year had passed before a letter came,” Sterling finally said, a hint of anger in his voice now. “It was addressed to my father, but really, it was for me. And who would not want to marry a stunning creature from another realm? To see magic and live amongst beings greater than yourself? I begged my parents to agree. In fact, I went to my knees, pleading that they afford me a new chance to learn. My sister was the real problem.”
Genevieve? A small huff of surprise snuck through my clenched teeth, but that did not stop Sterling’s story. Instead, he seemed unable to hear me. Though he looked me right in the eyes, I wondered if perhaps he was seeing another time, long ago. When life was worth living.
“She hated the idea of me going. My sister has always been the warrior, the politician, the born queen. I was not fit for those things. I wanted to remain moving, to never cease,” a sad smile lifted the left corner of his mouth, rounding his cheek slightly. “In the end, I had been strong enough in my resolve to win that fight. After my parents sent their letter of agreement to the terms, I started plotting. They asked for one last year with me, though I had wished it would be less, honestly. Then, one month before I was meant to come to you, to start a life that I thought might finally satiate me, another letter came. This one was written in lovely script, with all of the letters connecting together and a small bit of ink spilled upon the bottom left corner. This one was from you, Asher.”
I gasped, recalling the letter I had sent him so long ago. A letter written by a na?ve princess who eagerly hoped she could learn to like her new match. Who desired to heal from the loss of the love of her life with a gift given by the guardians she thought loved her more than anything. “I forgot I wrote you that.”
“I have it memorized. Dear Prince Sterling Windsor, my name is Asher Daniox, and I am apparently to be your wife, ” he began, lifting his chin from his place on the floor. Ah, he had imagined me a haughty little thing then. I laughed, a series of coughs following the sound. He waited for my fit to end, reaching a hand through the bars to gently pat my back. I only flinched once at his touch, which my brain struggled to differentiate. After I had finally settled, he pulled his arm away, tucking his hands beneath his head and continuing. “Though we have a lifetime of learning ahead of us, I would like to start now. Tell me, Sterling, what is your favorite color? Your favorite dish? What do you do when the sun sets and you have too much energy to sleep? Do you enjoy reading? What pastries exist within the confines of the mortal realm? I simply must know it all. In case you were curious, I am eagerly awaiting your arrival. I dare say we might just have some fun together. Most sincerely, Asher.”
The two of us chuckled at the way his high-pitched imitation of my voice made my words seem almost scandalous. The Asher back then might have meant them that way, too. Not that I could recall. Nor would I ever be her again.
“You had me then. If any doubt had lingered, your words upon the page had pushed them far away. Like me, you wanted to know more. You needed to know more. Honestly, you could not have been more perfect in my eyes. The king and queen had given us more information on your abilities than we would have expected, and my parents were so very scared of you—Genevieve even more so. I was not though. All I could think was that I might have found myself a wife who craved knowledge and adventure like I did.” Tone drowning in passion, Sterling did not seem to notice when my smile fell.
Would he wish to be my ally in this mess if he discovered just how much I had changed? Would he realize who was truly to blame for his suffering?
“Time passed excruciatingly slowly after that, like every hour was a mountain I had to climb without rope. So when the day came we were due to sail, I was riddled with anticipation. I can still feel my mother’s embrace, my father’s firm handshake, and my sister’s forehead below my lips. They deserved better than a son that would force them into such a mess.” When I opened my mouth to disagree, Sterling let out a soft shushing noise, not letting his story be silenced. “We sailed first to Isle Healer. I did not get to see much before our ship was approved for travel to the center island, but I did watch a woman slice on her palm and offer it to a small boy. The tiny little one smiled so bright the sun seemed to dim. Then he touched her palm, closed his eyes, and he healed her.”
Wonder, so much wonder floated from his mouth and blew away in the phantom wind of his imagination. Sterling had been the epitome of joy—of curiosity and light and life. As I looked at the man before me now, I realized just how little of that spark still existed within him. Mia had snuffed out his fire, and now he threatened to fizzle out.
“I saw the golden palace before I even saw the land. It was ostentatious to say the least. But oh how I eagerly awaited the moment we docked. In my arms I carried books upon books for you, ones I thought would bring a smile to your face or a wrinkle to your brow. In my pocket rested my grandmother’s ring, which she had gifted me before she died ten years past. Looking at the palace, I recalled regretting that the band was gold, because the color seemed too monotonous. But the sapphire shined bright, the diamonds on either side even brighter. You would have liked it, I think. But you were not there when we arrived.”
Where had I been? What had I deemed more important? I could not recall now.
“They took me straight from the docks to the palace, my four guards and I so clearly out of place that the fae seemed eager to hide us away. But the thick golden curtains and the cold golden tub could not hold my interest for long. Although, I did fully expect your lake to run gold, and I found myself staring off in the distance through my window to peek,” he admitted with a soft chuckle. His head lulled back to the ground, our eyes still locked but his mind elsewhere. “After hours had passed and I had fully unpacked, someone finally came to retrieve me. They took me to a grand room with a long golden table. The ceilings were higher than I had ever seen with four-tiered chandeliers dangling above, and still I struggled to take my eyes off of you, Asher.”
“You were sat across from Queen Mia, her grace and poise on full display as that icy gaze tracked my every movement. But you did not notice me as you leaned towards a male with wavy black hair and the most outrageous golden crown atop his head—your king. Every word he spoke seemed to transfix you, as if he were an idol you had the chance to look upon. I watched with awe when he said something that made you laugh, your humor bleeding into the air and making us all feel lighter. I could see how someone might become intoxicated by such a creature. How I, after so many years of being so impossibly unsettled, might finally breathe fully in your presence. But it was when you looked up at me, your big gray eyes wide and your power pulsing from you, that I realized I was going to marry the most extraordinary being in the entire world.”
Cheeks heating, I tried and failed to swallow down the odd sense of pride that swelled within me. “Yes well, you would have made fantastic arm candy. I had thought you were quite handsome that first night.”
His pupils widened slightly, as if he were finally coming back to his current, bleak reality. Instead of looking stricken, the prince laughed once more, the sound bringing a smile to my face.
“Are you kidding me? That would have been a dream. If you wanted me to be a trophy and raise our children while you saved the world and ruled over everyone? Perfect. I would have done so without hesitation.” Thoughts of a future that would never be brought the two of us to the natural end of Sterling’s story—the hard truth and painful epilogue. “That never happened though. No, after a night of us getting lost in conversations of our favorite books and preferences in weather and even some rather impressive jokes on your end, I was not afforded your hand as I thought. Instead, Xavier called the meal’s end and Mia encouraged you off to bed. Too afraid to protest, I had watched as you nodded and turned to me, offering a small smile and a kiss to my cheek before you stood.”
Neither of us could deny the way the air charged with terror, how this part of the tale was the beginning of the end. It was haunting, to watch that emotion play out on the prince’s face. The scrunch of his nose and tight closing of his eyes. The way his hands balled into fists and his jaw ticked. How I wished to rip the blocker off and soothe him, to steal those thoughts and memories away so he might know the peace that was taken from him. All I could do was watch though, as Sterling recalled the day his dreams came crashing down.
“Your power had barely faded from the room before Xavier stood, his face suddenly stern. The empty seat beside me that once held your brightness felt more like a last barrier then, like the only thing standing between me and the monster beneath a king’s crown. But, like I think he often is, Xavier was the distraction, not the danger. Vines had shot so quickly across the table that I had no time to even register the action. Like the goodbyes from my family, I can still feel the way her vines slithered up my skin and squeezed around my throat—I fear it is something I will never forget. And then, as if a villain in a storybook, a male—Theon—walked in. Forced to watch in horror, I bore witness to a Shifter’s power for the first time as he morphed not into a beast, but into me. It was sickening, seeing him take on my features with that chilling smile. Those vines tightened before I could scream, my vision going black. The last thing I remember hearing before I awoke here was Mia’s melodious voice informing me that it was ‘nothing personal.’ The first time they let Theon beat me sure did feel personal, though.”
Twin tears, one his and one my own, hit the stone floor at the same time, their splashes nearly silent. This boy before me had wanted nothing but to fill his short life with adventure and learning. Such a simple desire, one I understood deeply. Yet, he was instead afforded such pain that he would never be the same. The mere thought of it made my stomach turn.
“Sterling, I am so sorry. I am going to get you out of here. I have met your family, and they are desperate to get you back. If it is the last thing I do, I will bring you home.” A shift in the air was all I felt before a voice rang through the dungeons.
“No, Asher. All he can ask for now is a clean death. Perhaps you can give him that.”