10. Sorry, I Don’t Speak Parseltongue
10
Sorry, I Don’t Speak Parseltongue
Aliza
A lthough it felt like forever had been and gone since I’d last wandered the corridors of Nairsgarth, I found my old room with ease. The door Idris had broken through in his attempts to save me from a ravenous vampire had indeed been replaced, or repaired. It was impossible to tell. It looked as grand and aged as it ever had, but there wasn’t so much as a splinter out of place. I shrugged my way through, not bothering to wonder more about it. It was probably down to magic. Everything else was.
My shoulders sagged as I clicked the door shut and leaned against it. Nothing had changed. Sunlight streamed through the same windows, illuminating the same luxurious bed, the same sitting area, the same enormous wardrobe I would house my luggage in.
Speaking of which…
A glance around confirmed that my bags hadn’t been brought to my room. Great. Oh well, I was not going out there again.
I stalked across the room, taking the dais on which the bed sat at a leap, and launched myself into the mound of blankets and pillows, face first. My body bounced and rippled as the cloud-like mattress caught me in its fluffy embrace .
“Very elegant.”
I yelped, scrambling upright, only to find Idris smirking from the open doorway, a suitcase lurking behind his legs.
“Urgh, don’t you knock?” I massaged my chest, willing my heart to slow.
“We’re past that now.” He strolled into my room without invitation, dumping the bags near the wall. “You’ll be relieved to know that your humble and imploring pitch worked. They’re letting us stay.”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t up for debate.”
“So I heard. I’ve been given my old room, you remember the way?”
My already skittish heart all but juddered to a halt as heat crept to the edge of my pointed ears. “Why would I need to know the way?”
“In case of… nightmares.” His befuddled frown clearly told me he was concerned about my inability to grasp such basic, glaringly obvious concepts.
“Oh.” My flush spread to my face, heating my cheeks. Nightmares hadn’t been what sprung to mind when I imagined making my way to his room in the dead of night, but he was right. I was a traumatised mess. “Yeah, okay. I remember.”
I’d only been to the prince’s suite once, but with a drunk and uncooperative Idris draped over my shoulders, I’d memorised every tedious step.
“Good. Now before I go, I have to warn you. Anwir was in deep discussion with the witches when I left. I suspect he’ll be along shortly to charm you.”
I scoffed. “Good luck to him.”
“Have you decided what you want to do?”
“About what? ”
“Do you want to be his queen?”
My face turned clammy as the blood drained away. The answer was no, I didn’t want to be Anwir’s queen. But with a crown on my head, I could do so much good in this world. At the very least, I could rally the people, overthrow Maelgwyn, and install some proper roads. Maybe even do something to protect the rifts from vampires. But could I do it alone? The throne was mine, supposedly, but I didn’t know the first thing about ruling a kingdom. If I chose to take the throne, I’d need someone to guide me, but why couldn’t that someone be Idris? “I haven’t really thought about the future.”
It wasn’t entirely true. I’d thought long and hard, but all I could envision was an endless, grey void. Eternity stretched before me, and everything I’d ever loved or worked for was gone. I didn’t know what to do with my next hour, never mind forever.
For half a heartbeat, Idris’ face crumpled, but he composed himself before I was even certain of what I’d seen.
He gave me a small, close-lipped smile. “If I know my brother, he’ll have a compelling argument prepared. That should help.”
He turned to leave.
“Idris, wait!”
He peered at me over his broad shoulder, one hand already on the doorknob.
“Come in. Talk to me.” I patted the plump duvet beside me in invitation.
The prince eyed the spot as he drifted closer, but he didn’t sit. Instead, he leaned against the windowsill. The same spot where I’d kissed Jacques and pushed him to bite me. Idris’ muscular legs weren’t enough to hide the pink blood stain marring the honey-coloured stone. I lifted my eyes, wondering if he was remembering that night, too. “You’re not going to start avoiding me, are you?”
He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “Why would you think that?”
Oh, I don’t know.
The hasty way he’d tried to flee my room, maybe? The way he’d ignored my invitation to sit beside me?
Since the night he’d comforted me after my nightmare, we’d bypassed the spare room, sneaking him into my bed once Mum and Dad had fallen asleep, and creeping away again at dawn. I’d spent each night at his side, listening to his slow breathing, admiring his beautiful, peaceful face. When I’d finally drifted off to sleep, only to fall straight into fiery nightmares, he’d been there to hold me while I cried.
Now what? Did we go back to the careful distance he’d maintained in the early days?
Instead of voicing any of that, I said, “Well, we weren’t exactly friendly before… you know.”
It was only as the words left my mouth that I realised all the ways they could be construed. They could mean anything from his drunken attempts to fly, to my death, to the steamy, impromptu kiss goodbye in the Fairy Glen. The kiss neither of us had dared to acknowledge, and that almost kiss in the bathroom back home. He’d pulled away just as his lips were about to brush mine and made no further attempts to rekindle the moment. Maybe he was glad to gain some distance now, to pretend none of it had ever happened.
His expression softened into a lopsided smile. “We’re friendly now. I don’t fly all over the realm to rescue people I want to avoid. Ymyl Cefnfor to Henangov is quite a journey, you know. ”
It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. “I’m not even going to pretend to know what you just said. Who came up with all these complicated words, anyway?”
“You’re one to talk. Cardio-pulmamory-what-was-it?”
I grinned. “Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. At least it's pronounceable. Say something in your language.”
“ This is my language, but I suppose you’re referring to the ancient tongue?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything, just the first thing that comes into your head.”
Idris stared at me for long enough that I began to wonder if he’d answer me at all, never mind say the first word that came to mind. A muscle in his jaw feathered, then in a musical, lilting accent, he said, his voice hoarse, “Pe bawn i'n ddyn dewrach, byddwn i'n dweud yn glir wrthyt... Rwy'n dy garu di.”
Where did I even begin with that? “What does it mean?”
His face remained perfectly blank. “It roughly translates to ‘you are very annoying and ask too many questions’.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a lot of words for such a short sentence. Rwyn du–”
“ Dy ,” he corrected, slowing his speech. “Rwy'n dy garu di.”
“Rwy'n dy garu di,” I repeated, butchering the ancient language with my clumsy attempt.
Idris lowered his eyes, smiling. A smudge of colour bloomed over his cheeks before he lifted his brilliant gaze to mine again. Why did he have to be so gorgeous?
"Dwi'n dymuno bod hynny' n wir, Aliza." His words came out all heavy and soft, and something blossomed in my chest, some deep yet pleasant longing. For what, I couldn’t interpret.
That was quite enough of that for one day. My poor tongue was still twisted into knots over my last attempt. “How do I know you’re not secretly teaching me a string of swear words?”
He tipped his head back and laughed. The sound was as beautiful as any language, and easier to understand. It was universal. It transcended countries and races, even worlds. I smiled. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps I am. Don’t repeat them to anyone, or you’ll earn yourself some strange looks.”
“I knew it.” I seized the nearest decorative pillow and tossed it at him.
He caught it with preternatural ease, not missing a beat before hurling it back. It hit me squarely in the face. His laugh redoubled as the cushion flumped to my lap and tumbled to the floor, leaving me scowling.
“I regret inviting you in.”
His chuckles faded, but amusement still laced his voice as he said, “That’s too bad because I’m not avoiding you. It’s as I said, we’re past that.”
I flopped onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow. “So, does that mean you’ll be here for moral support while your charming brother tries to talk me into some harebrained scheme?”
His answering smirk was nothing short of wicked. “I’m afraid not. I have matters to attend to this morning. I’ll be with you in spirit if that helps.” He eased away from the wall, readying to leave. If only I hadn’t brought Anwir up, maybe he’d have stayed longer .
With time running out, I blurted out the words, “Why didn’t you kiss me in the bathroom?”
He froze in place, halfway to the door, and my ears ignited. God, what was wrong with me? Why had I said that?
Idris turned slowly, his eyes sliding straight to where I sprawled on the bed. I sat up hurriedly, scrambling to my feet. Lolling on a bed was not the place I needed to be right now, or was it?
My heart was beating fast enough that I was likely to need another shock of lightning to calm it down, but I suspected that if Idris touched me now, he would have the opposite effect.
I sucked a deep breath in through the nose, lifting my chin. I was a confident, body-positive woman, and I could talk about kisses without falling to pieces. Probably.
Idris took a step closer. Then another. And another, until he was standing before me, still a respectable distance away, but close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to.
His eyes were sharp, his voice tinted with something dangerous as he asked, “Are you disappointed that I didn’t kiss you in the bathroom, Aliza?”
Good god. My skin tightened, fizzing in anticipation. I cleared my throat. “Well, it wouldn’t have been the sexiest place I’ve ever been kissed, if I’m honest.”
His eyes darkened as they flickered over my face, the green tones warring against the yellow as they hovered on my lips. “I see.”
Something fought for space in my chest, something warm enough that it bordered on discomfort. I didn’t know what it was, but somehow, I knew the remedy. I followed the ache behind my sternum, drifting closer to Idris. My hands itched to slide up his broad chest, but I forced them to remain at my sides as I looked up at him. “I asked you a question.”
His throat bobbed, and my eyes followed the movement, the urge to put my lips there growing steadily.
“You evaded my question,” Idris said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I asked first.”
Idris leaned forward subtly, bringing our faces close. I forced myself to hold his heavy-lidded gaze.
“Let’s start again, then,” he breathed, as my eyelids and heart fluttered in unison at the sensation of his breath coasting over my skin. “Would you like me to kiss you now?”
Yes . God, yes, but I wasn’t about to admit that. I wasn’t going to give him the chance to continue tormenting me like this. I wasn’t going to let him make me beg, not when his enraptured expression told me that he wanted this just as much as I did.
Maybe I’d make him beg. Maybe I’d leave him dazed and wanting, just as he had done to me that night.
I dared to slide one hand into his hair, rising onto my tiptoes as I gave into temptation and swept that lock of hair out of his eyes. His breath shuddered at my touch, and I smiled at such power, biting my lip.
My nose skimmed the sharp line of his jaw, to his ear, and I let my lips brush his thumping pulse. His hands landed on my ribs, just above my waist, and I wished I hadn’t bothered with a hoody. It offered entirely too much cushioning for my liking. I wanted to feel the warmth of his touch sinking through the ribbed t-shirt I wore underneath it, sinking into my skin. I wanted to feel the way his fingers flexed and spread, gently exploring this new territory.
I couldn’t help leaning closer, until my body was flush with his. I couldn’t help kissing his neck.
Idris’ chest expanded before his breath left him on a sigh. His scent filled my nose, rain and wind and that heavy anticipation of a coming storm. My eyes slipped closed as my lips found his neck again, and again.
To hell with leaving him wanting.
I was powerless against this, against him. It was instinct. I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted to. I didn’t want to. My mouth travelled along his jaw, peppering kisses as I went. I couldn’t catch my breath. Maybe that was why my oxygen-starved brain was light and fuzzy, unable to focus on anything beyond the feel of Idris’ body pressed against mine, of his hands gripping me like a vice, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough.
My fingers tightened in his hair, steering his lips to mine.
The universe stilled at that first contact, all the stars that had ever been or ever would be winking into life, suspended in the air around us. That was how it felt to have his mouth on mine.
His hands roved up my body and to my neck, cupping my face as though afraid I might pull away. As though I had the power or will to do so.
My lips parted, and he matched me as our tongues met, sweeping together. It wasn’t the feverish, ravaging kiss we’d shared in the Fairy Glen; this one was gentle, tasting, exploring, and nothing had ever felt as good .
To think I would have missed this if I’d made it home that day. There was nothing and nobody in my world who could compare.
When I broke away, dazed and entirely breathless, he gazed down at me with such soft, open hope that my heart squeezed tight.
My tender lips flickered into a smile as I sank back down onto the flats of my feet. “Disappointed, Idris?”
He kissed me again. This one was shorter, merely an answer to my question. When our lips parted, he said, “Never.”
Now what? How did one act after a kiss that actually meant something? This was no casual encounter, and nobody had given me a brief on the procedure.
I curled my fingers through his hair to soften my words as I said, “Didn’t you have plans?”
He didn’t seem to take my words as an outright dismissal, thank god. He gave me a lazy, exceptionally lopsided grin. “I don’t recall. You are quite the distraction, mortal.”
“And you’re not a bad kisser, for a fossil.”
“What a glowing assessment.”
“Go on.” I pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “Go and remember your plans. Maybe I’ll see you at lunch.”
Despite the protests of both my heart and body, I extricated myself from his arms.
“Maybe.”
Idris made for the door, glancing back and grinning sheepishly every few steps. My ears heated again as I answered his smile, dropping my eyes. Only when the door clicked shut, leaving me alone, did I toss myself onto the bed, squealing into my pillow.
Whose idea had it been to pack all this clothing? Not mine, that much was certain. It absolutely could not have been my idea.
I swept my loose strands of boring, dark-blonde hair out of my face and stood back to survey my labours. My suitcase lay near the open wardrobe, its contents erupting all over the floor in disarray. The wardrobe itself was finally starting to look less like those stark, empty hotel ones that nobody ever bothered to use. Everything I’d stuffed into the holdall was hung neatly inside, arranged by colour, with all the hangers facing in the same direction. Neat and orderly, exactly as it should be. The sight didn’t please me.
This was not my wardrobe. Not my room. Not my world .
The ache of homesickness grew with every item I hung. Every nail in the coffin of my former life.
A knock sounded at the door, soft and uncertain. I sighed, tossing a satin cami back onto the carnage of the suitcase. When I cracked the door open, it was to find Anwir smiling sheepishly over an enormous bouquet of wildflowers. My stomach soured at the sight.
“What?” I didn’t bother to inject any civility into my voice. Despite Idris’ warning, I wasn’t ready for this conversation.
The bouquet drooped slightly. “I had hoped we could talk.”
“I’ve got zero interest in hearing another word that comes out of your mouth.”
“Don’t be like that.”
I made to shut the door, but a booted foot wedged itself between the wood and the frame.
“Move, Anwir. ”
“I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”
For god’s sake.
I was no match for his sheer size and strength, but I gave the door a good shove before stalking away, leaving him to let himself in. Hopefully, I’d managed to pinch his toes, the least he deserved.
“Thank you,” he said, closing the door behind him. I only glowered. “Do you have a vase?”
He gave the flowers a half-hearted jiggle, searching the surfaces. As far as I knew, there were no florists in town, and I doubted the prince had bothered to pick the blooms himself. He’d probably sent a witch to do his dirty work for him. Maybe the witch, the one he was in love with. What would she make of his little gesture?
“What do you want, Anwir?”
“I never intended for you to overhear my private conversation with my brother.”
Was that a hint of victim blaming I detected? “I’m glad I did.”
“That’s it then? One mistake and you’re willing to give up everything we wanted to work for?”
“Choosing to lie and deceive wasn’t a mistake.”
“Aliza, please.” He sank into one of the chairs before the empty fireplace, sweeping a frustrated hand over his face. “You have no idea what it’s like to rule a kingdom.”
“Neither do you, by the looks of things. Where’s your crown? Last time I checked, it was on somebody else’s head.”
Suck on that, dickhead.
“Exactly!” He heaved a despondent sigh. “Everything has been taken from me. All I can do is sit back and watch that bastard terrorise my people. I’m powerless. ”
Not the reply I’d expected, but okay. Did he actually care about the people of Neath? For something beyond his own ego. Some of my anger softened against my better judgement.
“I needed you.” He looked up at me with tragic eyes. “I still do.”
He’d needed to incubate his heirs. “You lied to me.”
“Because I thought it was the only way you’d help me! All you talked about was your home, and perhaps it was selfish of me, but I knew I had to do whatever I could to convince you to stay. To save my people. I’d do it again too, only I don’t need to, do I? You know. It’s all in the open. We can finally be honest with one another. All I can do now is beg.”
I waited, and all the while, Anwir gazed up at me.
“Go on then.”
He frowned. “Pardon?”
“Beg.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I thought so.” I picked up the end of my ponytail from my shoulder, examining the muted ends. “You value your pride more than your people.”
“That’s ridiculous, I… what happened to your hair?”
I rolled my eyes. “You only just noticed?”
He’d declared my formerly colourful hair as unsuitable for a queen; I was surprised he hadn’t taken its return to its natural colour as a sign of weakening.
“I had bigger concerns.”
I sighed, dropping my hair. “How much do you know about Idris’ rescuing me? ”
“I know he used his lightning,” he grumbled, each syllable laced with darkness. “Several of my uncle’s men were killed.”
I waited a moment, giving him a chance to continue, but it seemed he was done. “They burnt me to death.”
Simple words for a horrific ordeal. I spoke them quickly, like I was dropping a venomous snake, not giving them a chance to sink their fangs into me.
To his credit, Anwir’s eyes widened in horror. “They did what?”
I nodded briefly. “I haven’t pushed Idris for details, and to be honest, I’m not sure I want to know, but my body was destroyed by the time he got to me. The only thing he could do was Rhodd Anfarwol . It healed my body and regrew my hair”—I gave my ponytail another tug—“but I was still dead.”
“It didn’t work?”
Rhodd Anfarwol was so rarely used that I doubted Anwir would be any more enlightened about its inner workings than I was. “Sorry to disappoint, but it did, only my heart had already stopped beating.”
Understanding blossomed in his eyes. “He did that thing, the thing you did with the witch. Pumping the heart?”
“CPR. Yeah.” Finally, I sank into the chair opposite. It felt something like defeat, but I couldn’t be bothered fighting. I hated drudging up these memories. Not just of my own death, but Hyacinth’s too. I’d done everything I could to save the witch, mother to the only friend I’d had in this wretched world, and I’d failed. But if Anwir was going to pretend he’d been the one to save me, he needed to know what had happened. “He tried that, and it didn’t work. In the end, he used lightning to shock my heart. ”
I pulled down the collar of my t-shirt, exposing the now barely visible scar resembling naked tree branches. It would disappear completely before long, and the thought only added to my overall sadness. I’d grown to like it. It was kind of pretty, in its own way, and it was a reminder that Idris had deemed me worth saving, which was more than anyone else had done since my arrival here.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. I’d been saved many times over, but Idris was the only one who’d done it for me , rather than what I could do for him.
All Anwir could manage to say was a grudging, “He went to a lot of trouble for you.”
I flashed him a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
But the prince had lost focus. One arm draped over the side of the chair, still limply clutching the bouquet. He gnawed the thumbnail of his other hand, his brow furrowed in thought as he stared into the distance.
I let the silence swell, content not to speak another word. Maybe I could even sneak out of the room without him noticing…
“Idris was mated, you do understand that?”
Great, no reprieve for me. “Mated?”
“He found his other half, so to speak. It’s the deepest of bonds. Deeper than family. Deeper even than the bond you now share with him.”
Fae and their god-damned bonds. “Do you mean his wife? Jane?”
The mortal mother of Idris’ half-fae son. She had lived before the curse, hundreds of years ago.
Anwir nodded, painting a sympathetic expression onto his face. “The very same. She was more than his wife. She was his mate. ”
Oh. I couldn’t pretend to know anything about fae bonds, but this unexpected news was… unpleasant.
“He never said…” I murmured, staring unseeingly at my lap.
What was that sickening twisting of my guts?
“It’s been a long time, but mates never forget one another. They never move on, even after death.”
My mouth was as dry as stale bread. Was this another of Anwir’s lies, designed to drive a wedge between me and Idris? To push me closer to Anwir? It wouldn’t work; mated or not, Idris was my friend, and Anwir was repulsive, but that didn’t stop jealousy from raking its venomous claws over my ribs.
“I say this only to warn you,” Anwir pressed on, heedless of the heavy shroud settling on my shoulders. “You are new to this way of life, and the bond he created between you can be… confusing. It cannot be undone. You must not let it cloud your judgement.”
I looked up. “Judgement of what?”
“Me. Us. Our work together. You’re angry right now, and you have every right to be, but I know you. I know you want to help whenever you can. Idris’ undoubtedly noble actions in Tir o Haf have caused a stir, and my claim has been thrown into question. If ever there was a time when hope for a better future might crumble, this is it. Everything hangs in the balance. I need you, Aliza. I need us to continue our work to unite the people. I need us to be united.”
“All you need to do is cut your hair.”
“I beg your pardon?”
I gestured to his silken locks, spilling over his shoulder. “Cut it, and nobody will ever know it wasn’t you who saved me from Maelgwyn. There won’t be anything to question. ”
Anwir clutched a lock of hair, his face paling. That, at least, I could understand. We had something in common after all, however trivial.
“Be that as it may,” he continued, his voice distant, as though still lost in the horrors of losing his precious mane, “I still need you. You’re still the Human Queen.”
“I won’t marry you,” I insisted, determined to get my point across once and for all. I’d sacrificed everything else to this terrible place. I couldn’t give up my integrity too. “And I certainly won’t carry your children.”
Anwir huffed. “You’re fae now. That brings certain difficulties in the fertility department. I mean no offence when I say that your usefulness in that area has passed.”
As awkward as it was to discuss such things with him, it was oddly freeing to hear those words. I’d never wanted to be a mother, having witnessed my parents struggle for the little we had. Not to mention Mum’s problems when it came to conceiving. I was an only child, a miracle according to my parents, and the result of IVF. I’d always carried that kernel of knowledge with me, a constant reminder of all the things I didn’t want to go through. Knowing that it might not be possible, well, it was one less thing to worry about. Not that I had anyone to create such worries with.
Instead of voicing my thoughts, I said, “You still want to work with me, even knowing I’m useless?”
“I never said you were useless. You still have great value as a symbol of hope.”
If ever there was a time I might have keeled over from shock, that was it. Anwir thought I had value beyond my uterus? What in the patriarchy was going on ?
“How can I be the Human Queen?” I tucked a strand of my hideous hair behind my pointed ear.
The prince smiled, a flawless, symmetrical smile, similar but not quite the same as Idris’ slightly crooked grin. “Your body has changed, but you are the same as you ever were. Besides, the Human Queen was always promised immortality. She was always supposed to change. This only fulfils another piece of the prophecy.”
I was running out of excuses, and it soured my stomach. I hadn’t been given a chance to figure out how I fitted into this world, but all routes led to the throne, apparently. What if I didn’t want it? What if I wanted a normal life? And what if I didn’t?
“I don’t trust you.” There it was, out in the open. The truth. He claimed to want honesty, well… now he had it.
His eyebrows lowered for a fraction of a second, but he smoothed his expression in record time. “I understand. I’m not asking for your trust or your forgiveness. I’m asking you to lie. Let my people believe that you love me. Let them believe the prophecies are coming true.”
I wasn’t convinced I could pretend fondness, never mind love. “Why? What difference does it make?”
I’d had a hard enough time believing that his methods were enough to create unity before I’d learnt that he was a lying prick.
“They won’t fight for me if they don't believe I can win, but I need each and every one of them if I’m to stand a chance. Should I lose, the repercussions would be… unimaginable. I need every weapon I can lay my hands on to defeat my uncle. Be my weapon, Aliza. Be their destiny.”
How he could twist death and war and make it sound glorious, I had no idea. The bastard had a talent when it came to words. My talents lay in helping those who needed it, regardless of species. If a bunch of fairytale creatures needed me, who was I to refuse? As loathe as I was to work with Anwir, maybe he was right. Maybe this was the surest way to rally the people and take on Maelgwyn. The sooner he was removed from the world, the sooner I could figure out what my new life would look like. Maybe I’d looked at it all wrong, seeing only Anwir’s attempts to use me. What if I could use him? What if he was the tool that would buy me a future free of danger and fear?
That new, unwelcome part of me whispered that he could buy me my revenge.
I gave my head a tiny shake, dislodging the thought. This wasn’t about vengeance. It was about freedom.
“I’m not sure I’m quite in your league when it comes to lying, but I’ll think about it.” My words ignited a flash of hope in his eyes, and I added, “I make no promises.”
Despite my threat, his face broke into a wide smile as he sprang from the chair. He seized my hand and tugged me to my feet.
“You are a wonder, Aliza.” He thrust the flowers at me, and I caught them on reflex, clutching them to my chest. “We will talk about the details once I have a solid plan.”
He turned to leave, a definite spring in his step.
“I only said I’d think about it!”
But he disappeared through the door as though he hadn’t heard me.
It was only when I was alone with my thoughts that I realised he hadn’t apologised, and he certainly hadn’t begged.