12. Leather Should Be Illegal
12
Leather Should Be Illegal
Aliza
T he flowers I didn’t want were sitting in a jug on my windowsill, a colourful reminder of the axe hanging over the neck of Anwir’s world. No matter where I sat in my room, I couldn’t hide from them. They were there . Pretty and bright, a stark contrast to the world beyond our wards. Oh, it was beautiful on the surface, but if you looked hard enough, death and decay lurked.
I’d distracted myself with unpacking, but now that my suitcase was stowed out of sight beneath my bed, there was no escaping Anwir’s request. The fate of this realm. Of my endless future. Even floating in my enormous pink crystal bathtub and soaking away the grime of travel hadn’t been able to quiet my mind.
I had all the time in the world, and my life had never been as hollow. How was I supposed to know what to do with my next step, without the urgency of mortality breathing down my neck? It was like a day off work when, with the whole, glorious day stretched ahead, I lounged in complacency, until it was suddenly over, and nothing had been achieved at all.
That couldn’t become my life. I needed a purpose. Something to strive for. What better goal than saving the world, but could I really do it by wearing pretty dresses and waving at the crowds? By smiling at a lying prick? Was that all I was good for?
Maybe it was. Maybe my dreams of saving lives had only ever been that; a fantasy. Had the coven witnessed my attempts to save one of their own— my failure —and deemed me useless? Just some empty-headed human with delusions of her own abilities? My degree was a mockery. A charitable gesture intended to bolster two grieving parents. It meant nothing in my own world, where I was dead, and it meant nothing here, where I couldn’t even save a life.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to save lives with my hands but with my actions. The action of standing beside a prince, his mascot. His symbol of hope.
Groaning, I flopped my head over the back of my armchair. All this leisure time was doing me no good whatsoever. I wasn’t useless. I could do good. I would . I’d start by paying a visit to the only person I’d missed in my absence.
Pansy’s room was nowhere near as grand as mine, located off a narrow, dingy corridor in the bowels of the castle, as opposed to my sprawling suite on the top floor. At least she didn’t have to climb as many steps as I did when she wanted to find her bed, but it didn’t seem fair that I’d been showered in such luxury while my friend, who had laboured for centuries in exchange for her training, made do with little more than a cell.
I made my way through sprawling corridors and down staircases both grand and sweeping and narrow and twisting. This late in the morning, the castle was a hive of activity as the witches went about their many duties. I’d been treated like a spectacle ever since I’d first arrived in Nairsgarth, and my recent disappearance and the stories that came with it had done nothing to dampen such unflattering interest. Eyes and whispers followed me through the castle like a flock of ghosts, though nobody stopped to question me. They believed me to be a queen. If they thought I was beyond reproach, then I wasn’t about to correct them. I was used to stares; my height and formerly colourful hair attracted attention, and I was certainly used to having my every action scrutinised. True, it had always been a necessary measure to ensure a bright-eyed young student didn’t make a terrible error, but in a way, this was similar.
What was I if not a student of immortality and queendom, in her first fumbling year?
I arrived at Pansy’s door but hesitated when I raised my fist to knock. I hadn’t bothered to say goodbye, or anything else for that matter, before I’d run away. I’d left her to her grief. What if she didn’t want to see me?
Maybe she wouldn’t be home. The other witches were bustling around the castle, why not Pansy? Reassured by the thought, I tapped my knuckles lightly against the door. If she wasn’t here I would just—
The door swung open, and I glimpsed a pair of wide, brown eyes and an explosion of dark hair before Pansy leapt at me. She was a fraction of my height, barely reaching my shoulder, but she threw her arms around my neck all the same.
“Aliza! Oh, Mother above, you’re alright!”
My spine bowed under the pressure, but I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing tight. A definite whiff of body odour drifted up my nose.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be here. I thought maybe you’d be working.”
Pansy sniffed. “Granny gave me some time off, because of… ”
When she released me and peered up into my face, her eyes were wet. Hollow. I took a proper look at her. In my absence she’d grown gaunt, grief stealing the youthful plumpness of her cheeks. It had barely been three weeks since her mother’s death, and shadows marred her light brown skin, clinging to her eyes, and her plump lips were chapped. The spiralling hair she’d always worn in a puff on top of her head was loose and wild, flattened on one side.
“What happened to your hair?” she demanded.
I couldn’t help but grin. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“And your clothes. Where did you get those… things ?”
I’d dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a cropped vest, teamed with high tops. Nothing even remotely similar existed in Neath, which now I came to think of it, probably accounted for some of the incredulous stares I’d received.
“Home.” My gaze drifted over Pansy’s shoulder, taking in the colourful chaos of her room. The last time I’d been here, the room had been in disarray, having been trashed by invading shades. Now, with blankets hanging from her bed and trailing over the rumpled rug, and cushions scattered over the floor, it didn’t look much better.
“Want to go for a walk?”
“Hang on, let me find my shoes.”
I lingered in the corridor, pretending not to notice the mess as Pansy retreated to her room, dropping to her knees to search through heaps of dirty clothes scattered over the floor.
I’d witnessed plenty of grief over the course of my studies, but it was always raw and fresh, the initial heartbreak. This was worse, this lingering despondency, the stripping away of everything but pain. Though I knew there was nothing I could have done differently to prevent the death of Pansy’s mother, the fact remained that she had died because of me. If I’d never come to this world, never gone into those stupid caves, Hyacinth would still be alive. Pansy would still be happy.
Idris would still be cursed.
I couldn’t win. Whichever way I looked at it, people suffered. Even with hindsight, there was no perfect path. How was I supposed to move forward, to take new action, knowing I was bound to cause more suffering?
Pansy joined me in the corridor, running her palms over her nest of hair. It made not the slightest difference.
“Come on, let’s go out into the grounds. I could do with some air,” I lied.
In truth, it was Pansy who needed it, but I wouldn’t mind escaping the watchful eyes of the coven.
“When did you get back? And where did you go?” Pansy asked.
“I got back a few hours ago. I’ve been unpacking and deflecting Granny and Anwir, or I would have come sooner. As for where I’ve been…”
I hesitated over telling her who and what had caused me to leave, but Pansy had only ever been a good friend to me, right from the moment she’d first appeared in my room. She deserved the truth. She already knew about my altercation with Jacques, but not what had led to it. I told her everything I’d heard between Anwir and Idris, about finding Jacques on my windowsill and inviting him in. Pushing him to bite me.
Pansy clucked her tongue. “I warned you not to trust vampires. ”
“It wasn’t like that.” My encounter with Jacques only hours ago had left a sour taste in my mouth, but that didn’t change the cold, hard facts. He would never have bitten me if I hadn’t thrown myself at him.
What would have happened if Idris had come by my room, and instead of finding me haemorrhaging, he’d told me the truth about Anwir, as he’d intended to do? I would still have left, but would things have played out differently? Would he have been forced to save me by immortalising me? Would I have thrown myself at him instead?
“Did Prince Idris help you escape?” Pansy asked, as though she’d read my mind.
“Not exactly. I escaped by stealing his horse, so he came after me, then he agreed to help.”
I relayed the rest of my miserable tale as we made our way into the grounds. A cool wind blustered in from the cliffs, dousing my skin in goosebumps just as I reached the part of my tale where I’d burnt to death.
“Look.” I pulled back my damp hair, revealing the delicate point of my ear as we headed down the castle steps.
“ Mother above. ” Pansy’s horrified eyes widened like saucers. “You’re fae now?”
Wasn’t it obvious, even without the ears? I certainly hadn’t been glowing and vibrant the last time Pansy had seen me. Exhausted and decidedly human, more like. I sighed. “Apparently. I mean, it’s not all bad. I’ll never get wrinkles, I guess. But it means I’m stuck here.”
I waved my arm, gesturing to the world at large. Not my world.
“I’m sorry, Aliza. I know this isn’t what you wanted. ”
I gave a faint smile. “Thanks. I did get to go home for a few days though, so at least my mum and dad know I’m okay.”
“That’s good. It must have been lovely to see them again… I can’t believe Prince Idris turned you.”
That made two of us.
“Is there… something going on between the two of you?”
My face ignited. “No! Of course not, he’s just extremely good at saving my life.”
And kissing. I’d conveniently forgotten to mention any of that in my story. I wasn’t about to go telling everyone, but my burning face might speak volumes. I looked away from Pansy, feigning interest in the distant woodland, where I’d once found Idris sketching in his little black book.
To my horror, a familiar, dark-haired figure strode through the grass, heading in our direction. God, what timing. Could this situation get any worse?
The prince gave us a lop-sided smile as he approached, the sun bouncing off his windswept hair and revealing the secret, subtle shades of green and purple amongst the black strands. My stupid heart skipped a beat, but I wrangled my expression into polite indifference.
It was hard to be indifferent when he had the audacity to walk around looking like that . He’d swapped his jeans and T-shirt for a suit of form-fitting leather armour, adorned with an array of straps and buckles that I could think of plenty of uses for, none of which did my flushed skin any favours.
“Pansy,” Idris said, though his peridot eyes lingered on me for a moment before sliding to the witch. “How are you? ”
Pansy curtsied, as though she hadn’t trailed through the wilderness for days with the fae. As though he hadn’t carried her mother’s body for miles. “I’ve been better, Your Highness, but thank you for asking.”
“I understand. It’s good to see you out and about.” His gaze shifted back to me, and he dipped his chin in greeting. I tried and failed not to think about how he’d dipped his head to kiss me. Tried not to wish he’d do it again, that I could run my hands over those leather-clad muscles. “Aliza.”
He all but purred my name, as though he’d overheard my conversation with Pansy and knew exactly why I was blushing.
“Idris. Where have you been, looking so… fancy?”
He looked down at his own torso, spreading his arms slightly. The leather creaked. “Fancy? These are just my flight leathers. I took Saeth out for the morning.”
That explained the delightfully tousled hair. When would I get to slide my fingers through it again? God, what was wrong with me? We’d only been separated a few hours, and here I was, drooling and dreaming like a teenage girl.
“You stole my horse?” I channelled my embarrassment into bravado, crossing my arms in reprimand.
His chuckle sparkled over my skin. “Borrowed.” He shrugged as he parroted the answer I’d given him, the night he’d found me and Saeth hiding in a cave in the mountainside. His expression turned serious. “He’s back in the grounds, and you’re welcome to ride him, but I’d prefer you to tell me first. I want to know you’re safe.”
My poor heart dissolved at his words, leaving a warm ache in its place. Who was I? What had happened to the girl who saw men as a waste of time ?
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, trying to smile in a vaguely normal, unruffled way. “I forgot to pack my leather bodysuit, though.”
Idris blinked, his pupils flaring as they flickered over my body, and beside me, Pansy stifled a snort but otherwise kept her silence.
I turned to the witch, but she kept her eyes fixed on the prince as I spoke. “Idris wasn’t very happy with me for flying his horse without him, but I managed to cling on okay. It’s actually not as impressive as it looks; anyone can do it. Anyway…” With a teasing smirk, I turned back to the prince, eager to end my ordeal, but missing him even though he was still standing in front of me. I had to get rid of him though, before Pansy looked a little too closely. I wasn’t ready to share our secret with the world just yet, not when I didn’t know what it would mean for us. “We won’t keep you. Pansy was just taking me for a stroll and interrogating me about my darkest secrets.”
Idris raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure I can’t join you for that?”
No. Yes. Maybe? Urgh.
“It’s girl stuff, you wouldn’t want to hear it.”
“Then perhaps I’ll see you at lunch?”
He’d evaded me this morning when I’d asked him the very same thing. Could he be as messed up by this bond as I was? Had the sight of me after a few hours of absence melted his brain cells? The thought was comforting and terrifying in equal measure.
“Maybe.” The word came out on a breath, soft and insipid and painfully obvious. There was no way Pansy wasn’t going to grill me for this. “I mean, yeah, probably. You know me, always starving.”
He smiled again. Whatever was going on–or not–between us, I would never tire of making him smile. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Pansy he understood her grief. He was broken and hurting, and I’d once believed I could stand beside him while he healed. Maybe I still could. Maybe that could be my new path.
“See you then.” He continued to smile, blinking once before nodding to Pansy. “Goodbye, Pansy.”
He set off toward the castle, the muted sheen of his leather drawing my eyes to places they had no business lingering. I turned away, giving myself a good, mental shake as Pansy and I set off along the path once more.
The witch walked in silence for several steps, but I knew I hadn’t gotten away with my pathetic swooning.
At last, she spoke. “He has fallen hard for you.”
“What?” I whipped my head to her fast enough to twinge my neck. I rubbed it gingerly. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Aliza, please. Stop being dim-witted. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how he looks at you.”
Nope. No, no, no. I couldn’t be having this conversation.
“How?” Stupid, traitorous tongue.
Pansy raised a sceptical eyebrow. “All soft eyes and parted lips, and blinking like a cat.”
As a vet, the cats I saw usually watched me with fearful, round eyes, but I knew exactly what she meant. That slow, heavy-lidded blink felines reserved for the elite few they loved and trusted. Last I checked, Idris wasn’t a feline. The knowledge didn’t stop my hopeful little ember from glowing a little brighter.
“Yes, I like this,” Pansy went on with the air of someone reaching a hard-won conclusion. “Aliza and Idris. Alidris .” She nudged me with her elbow .
“Stop it, it’s not like that.” My cheeks were going to combust if this didn’t come to an end soon.
“Alidris,” Pansy repeated with a wistful sigh. “I don’t care what you say. I know what I saw, and I like it. I’m not sure Prince Anwir will though.”
What did it matter what Anwir liked? He could go and fuck himself.