31. Did We Just Become Best Friends?
Ihovered in the shade of the stone archway leading out to the courtyard, unnoticed by Idris, who lounged on a nearby bench, sketching. I couldn’t see his face, but there was no mistaking him. The sun bounced off his raven hair, revealing subtle shimmers of deepest purple and green in the dark strands. I’d never noticed the colours before.
My stomach flipped, telling me to abandon my plan and turn back, but I clutched my parcel and forced myself to approach.
“Hi,” I said softly as I drew near.
He slammed his drawing book shut before turning to squint at me, the sun hitting him full in the face. His peridot eyes were bloodshot, rimmed in red and purple shadows. Too much wine, or crying? As I hadn’t seen him shed a single tear last night, I guessed the former.
“I brought sustenance. Can you stomach it?”
I didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. Just because he’d let his guard down once, I wasn’t fooled. He would likely push back harder because of it, assuming he remembered anything of the previous night. But to my satisfied surprise, he took the parcel without a fight or sly remark, unwrapping the warm baguette. I’d never paid much attention to what he ate, so I’d gone with trusty bacon, sausage and eggs, a popular choice with the carnivores in my life. My own sandwich contained egg, cheese and a green substance that I sincerely hoped was avocado.
“Thank you,” Idris muttered, staring blankly at his breakfast. I took a bite of mine, letting the silence stretch as I ate.
“As tempting as it was, I didn’t poison it,” I added eventually, winning myself a tiny hint of a smile. Idris took a tentative nibble, confirming my suspicions of a delicate stomach.
I waited until he’d finished, screwing his napkin up in his fist, and asked, “How are you feeling after the ball?”
He shot me a sideways, quizzical look, like he couldn’t work out why I was there and being nice.
“As rough as a buzzard’s crotch,” he admitted, still watching me warily.
Ordinarily, I might have laughed at his phrase, but I was in no mood for amusement today. “Do you remember any of it?”
He heaved a sigh, straightening, and for a moment, I thought he might flee. My heart spasmed, but he remained seated.
“I remember you,” he said softly. I met his sheepish, yellow-green eyes. “I’m sorry if I spoilt your evening.”
A lock of dark hair hung over his forehead, the same one I’d touched last night. The urge to brush it out of his eyes seized me, just as it had as I’d gazed down at his sleeping form, but I kept my hands still. He’d held my hand while he slept, held it cradled to his chest. What would he say if he remembered? What would he say if I took his hand now? I wanted him to know that I was here for him, and that I would stay for him, even if I was the last person he wanted, but still, I didn’t move.
“Anwir told me about your son.”
His whole face tightened, muscles flickering in his jaw as he turned away to stare across the courtyard. I knew he wasn’t really seeing it.
“Idris… I’m so sorry for your loss.” Words I’d spoken countless times, but suddenly carried a whole new weight. “I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling.”
His breath wavered, his only response. Thanks to the curse, this was still raw for him, even if it had happened hundreds of years ago. He’d never been allowed to grieve properly, except in haunted dreams.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” I injected a little cheer into my voice, casting around for a lighter subject. “Listen to this. Anwir and I had a fight this morning. Apparently, you knocked my tiara off. He didn’t take it well when the witches went in to tidy and found it in your bed.”
“What?” I had his attention again. Unflattering panic widened his eyes. “How was it in my bed?”
I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling my chuckle. “Oh God, you don’t remember that part? You were unconscious, I guess. Do you remember me escorting you back to your room? Well, as soon as you saw your bed you just gave up using your legs and fell on top of me. My tiara must have been lost in the fray.”
“You took me to bed? Wait, no, I think I’m remembering.” He groaned, burying his head in his hands, but he peered sideways at me through his fingers. “Did I brag about being able to walk?”
I fought against my smirk and lost. “I don’t remember the details.”
“Liar.”
My grin widened. “Your secrets are safe with me, though, just between us, I think you’d better tone down your walking before anyone else notices.”
“I do like to keep my talents under wraps.”
“I’ve noticed.” I looked pointedly at the black book perched on his lap. He stiffened. “Are you good at drawing?”
“Not bad.”
“I’m terrible. I’m very much a stick figure sort of girl.” My artistic abilities had ceased to develop since the age of five.
He blew an amused breath out of his nose, but didn’t rise to the bait.
“Can’t I see one of your pictures?”
“No.”
And there I was, thinking I’d made progress. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t know how to fail. “Is it because you’re not as good as you say you are?”
“It’s because you’re an irritating mortal who doesn’t know how to mind her own business.”
“Just one picture.” It wasn’t as though I was asking for access to his royal bank account. My request was perfectly reasonable.
“No.”
“Please.”
He ignored me.
“Pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top?”
He furrowed his flawless brow questioningly.
“It’s what my nana used to say. You can’t say no to it. It’s basically law.” It had certainly ensured my grandad was wrapped around Nana’s, and by extension, my little finger.
“I can.”
“But you won’t. It’s impossible.”
“Fine,” he hissed, and I fought down my smile of triumph.
He angled the book away from me, his glare shifting between me and the pages he turned. Finally, he settled on a suitable image and turned the book.
“Oh my God.”
The page was yellowed with age, but from edge to edge it was full of feathers, a study of a wing, maybe. It was incredible. Lifelike. Almost like a black-and-white photograph.
“Idris, that’s amazing.” I leaned in closer, studying the tiny, intricate details that I couldn’t quite fathom a person creating. Every barb was shaded and defined, and yet impossibly soft. If I touched the page, I could almost believe it wouldn’t be paper that brushed against my fingertips. It must have taken him hours. Days. Who was I kidding, I had no idea how long such masterpieces took to create. The prince’s knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his precious book, as though afraid I’d make a grab for it. “Is that what you were drawing before?”
“No. It’s an old one. I drew it a few… well, a few hundred years ago, I suppose.”
I met his eyes. “I don’t understand. Did you have this with you? In the tomb?”
“No. I went home for it.”
“What? When?”
“The night we got to Nairsgarth.”
“But—”
“As you know, fae can move between places,” he explained before I had a chance to pry. “As long as we know where we’re going. The castle itself is warded against such movement, but I left the grounds and went home for this. It’s how I was able to take you with me, the day we flew Saeth. Technically, that beach isn’t protected by wards as it’s a border line.”
“But, Idris, going home was really dangerous. What if there’d been a trap waiting for you?” It was bad enough that he’d frequented Tir o Hydref in his hunt for the horse, never mind returning to his house.
“If I’d gone to the palace, I’m sure there would have been, but that’s not my home. Anyway, I needed this. It was worth the risk.”
Where was his home if not the palace? Did he have a castle of his own, or did he mean wherever his wife had lived? Anger mingled with belated panic swirled in my veins. “It’s just paper, it’s not worth your life. I’ve got paper in my room. I’m sure if you’d have asked—”
Idris flicked through the pages, catching my attention. My words dried up in my throat when he stopped on a sketch of a smiling little boy with a shock of dark hair and wide, round eyes.
“Is that…” I whispered.
Idris nodded silently. I reached for the book. He allowed me to grasp it, but didn’t let go as I steered it closer.
“I needed this with me.” His voice was little more than a broken croak.
I pressed my lips together, fighting the dreadful sadness rising inside me. I didn’t dare risk meeting Idris’ eye, and not just because my own were suddenly watery. I hadn’t forgotten the rush of pain he’d sent into me last night, and I was struggling to hold my tears at bay as it was. I was under no illusions that the prince would forgive me if a teardrop landed on his drawing, ruining it forever.
“He was beautiful.” Was. Was. I hated that word at times like this. It felt like kicking the grieving person in the gut when they were already down, but what else could I say?
I drank in the image, the little peg teeth revealed by a cheeky, lopsided smile. Tiny fangs. The gleaming eyes that Idris had somehow managed to make shine like light on water. The round cheeks, rosy even in their grey shading. “He looked like you.”
Past tense to talk about such an adorable little boy. God, the world was cruel. No, people were cruel. How could King Maelgwyn, Idris’ own uncle, have ordered the death of such a sweet angel? I couldn’t even begin to fathom the evil of such a mind, and I didn’t want to. For the first time, Anwir’s whole ‘saving the world’ spiel felt personal. I finally had a real stake in the game. I wanted justice for that little boy, and for Idris. I wanted it with a burning fire I’d rarely felt before in any of my endeavours. This wasn’t mere obligation. I wanted justice.
“His name was Taryn.”
“Taryn,” I repeated, my voice soft, pretending I didn’t already know. “I like it. It’s beautiful, like him.”
We lapsed into silence, each still clinging to the book, balanced between us. Finally, I loosened my hold.
“I’ve decided to stay, just for a little while,” I whispered. “I don’t want to be queen or anything. I know Anwir can’t give me immortality, and that’s fine.” I felt rather than saw Idris’ gaze drift to me, felt it brush over my skin like feathers. “I just want to help in any way I can, so I’ll stay for a bit, see if I can get Anwir on the throne somehow. Mum and Dad will understand.”
“You love your parents.” It wasn’t a question.
I nodded. “Of course I do. I wish I could show you a picture of them.” I reached into the back pocket of my shorts, retrieving my long-dead phone. “This used to be full of pictures of everything I loved. Now they’re all gone. Or maybe they’re not, but ever since I came here, it doesn’t work anymore. I can’t give it up though. I guess what I’m saying is… I might not be a parent myself, and I don’t know the pain of losing a kid, but… I understand why you went back for that book.”
“That’s the thing you almost got us killed for in the tunnels.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that, it was stupid and irrational. Thank you,” I looked up, meeting his red-rimmed eyes, “for not abandoning me.”
Iwouldn’t abandon him.
Idris closed his book with all the tenderness of a father kissing his son goodnight and laid it on the bench between us. I tried not to marvel at that tiny gesture of trust. Not only had he let me see his work, and his child, but now he left his most treasured possession, which he’d guarded so fiercely, where I might grab it and run. How far we’d come. I should probably thank the fairy wine.
“What is it? That thing?” He jerked his head at the device in my hands.
“This? It’s a phone.” It was easy to forget just how little these people knew of modern humans and their conveniences. Electricity hadn’t even been invented when Idris was cursed. The thought boggled my mind. “It’s basically my whole life in one little rectangle. I can use it to take pictures, or speak to my friends and family, organise my calendar, pay for things. Most importantly, I can look at cute animals on the internet.”
“What’s the internet?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said hurriedly, unconvinced I was capable of explaining such things. “The point is, this little thing is like my window back to my own world. My life. But it”s broken, so the window is dark and I can’t see.”
“What happened to it? How did it break?”
“Well, I don’t think I ever told you how I got here, but it involved a lot of water. Phones aren’t supposed to get wet, but I hoped it’d dry out and start working again. Only, the battery drained too, I guess, and I have no way to charge it to see if it’s broken or just dead.”
Too late, I realised my choice of words. Just dead? I cringed, shifting in my seat as my skin heated. What an idiot. But Idris either didn’t notice, or chose to overlook my faux pas. I ploughed on, determined to move away from the topic of death. “I left my charger back in the tent I was staying in, you know, in my world. If only I’d put it in my bag. Still, I don’t suppose you have electrical plugs here.”
“It charges with electricity?”
I blinked at the surprised tone of his voice, like he was as shocked as I was that he’d finally understood a word I’d said. “Yeah. You don’t have electricity, do you?”
He gave another small smile. When would I get to see another wide one? “May I?”
I placed the phone in his waiting hand, hope swelling inside me, even as I tried to stamp it out. I knew better. Good things didn’t happen here. But I thought of Saeth, and taking to the skies with the dishevelled prince now sat trustingly at my side. I was wrong.
There was some good in this world.
Idris examined my phone, turning it over and over in his long, white fingers. It was dwarfed in his enormous hands. A joke phone. I held my breath, terrified he might drop it, but he treated it with the same care he’d shown his drawing book.
The hairs on my arms rose, standing on end.
I’d barely had a chance to notice the strange reaction of my body when a faint simmering crackle emanated from Idris’ hands. My mouth fell open as white fronds of light spread over his skin, reminding me of the little strobes inside the plasma ball I’d had in my room as a kid. The blue-white light extended to my phone, streaking over the screen.
I stifled my gasp with a hand clapped to my mouth when a symbol appeared on that stubbornly dark surface. A battery, filling before my eyes.
“Idris!”
The battery filled in record time, and the electric light faded into nothing, leaving only my phone lying in the most extraordinary hands I’d ever seen. I forgot my manners, snatching it back and pressing the power button down.
I sobbed, half in delight, half in dumbfounded disbelief when the screen fired up. “Idris, you fixed it!”
My hands shook as I keyed in my password and my background appeared, a close up of me and my friend, Abby, both a little drunk and clutching cocktails, beaming back at me. I’d almost forgotten what she looked like. I stared at the image for a long moment before my watery eyes drifted to the symbols in the top corner. No signal. Not that I’d expected there to be. Even that couldn’t dampen the sheer joy I drowned in. I flicked through my apps and clicked the gallery.
Tiny square glimpses of the life I’d left behind unfolded in my hands. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”
Without thinking, I twisted, throwing my arms around Idris’ neck, my phone still clutched tightly in one hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
An awkward pat landed between my shoulders, nothing like the bone crushing squeeze I’d been enveloped in last night. My smile widened, even as tears tumbled down my cheeks.
I let him go, dashing the back of my knuckles over my wet face. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You just did. Three times, in fact.”
“No, but really. This means everything to me.” My words ended with a squeak, and I stopped talking before I dissolved completely.
“Consider it payment for me ruining your ball.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.” He blinked at my words, as though he didn’t quite believe them, but excitement rushed through my veins like the magic undoubtedly rushing through his. “I had no idea you had electric magic. Isn’t Anwir’s power lightning? Do you have it too?”
I could have sworn I’d heard that Anwir was the only fae with lightning powers, but I must have jumbled the facts somewhere along the way. There had been a lot of unbelievable information to take in, after all.
“Only a tiny bit, not enough to do anything useful.”
Was that why he had the power to grant immortality? Because his lightning magic was weak? Anwir had said fae couldn’t have too much power. Weak or not, Idris’ power was a gift.
“It is useful,” I insisted. “Honestly, this means so much to me, you have no idea.”
One side of his mouth curled up as he nodded at my phone. “Do me one favour? Don’t tell anyone I did that. I have an image to protect.”
“Ah yes, the brooding, bad-tempered prince image. I would never dream of spoiling it for you.”
“Good.” He smiled. A proper smile, showing all his teeth. My belly flipped again, and my breath hitched. I’d done it. I’d won a genuine smile. Pride swelled in my chest. This was worth more than any good grade. “Now, I believe you promised to show me photos of your parents?”
My parents.I scrolled eagerly, my heart swelling with such happiness that it threatened to burst out of my chest and soar on silver wings.
“Look,” I said, shielding my screen from the sun. “This is my mum. We went out for breakfast on Mother’s Day. We had the best waffles ever.”
Idris leaned in close, as I showed him picture after picture. My family, my friends, my life. He smelled faintly of wine and bacon, but I didn’t mind a bit as he let me share my world with him.
A human and a fae who had lost everything but their memories.