27. The Math Isn’t Mathing
27
The Math Isn’t Mathing
Aliza
M aybe I was toughening up. The teleportation sickness subsided quicker this time, though I still didn’t handle it as well as the other fae. I panted down mild air scented with the musk of earthy rot and damp wood, and the crisp freshness of greenery. When I opened my eyes, the hem of my gown was surrounded by ferns and fallen leaves in all shades of orange and yellow.
“Where are we?” I straightened, tightening my grip on Idris’ hand.
Tir o Gaeaf had been creeping towards nightfall when we’d left, but here, wherever we were, the sun still shone. Beams of rich golden light spilt through the canopy of vibrant, autumn leaves, gilding the prince’s hair with a hazy glow. When he looked at me, the yellow tones in his eyes had all but obliterated the green.
“Tir o Hydref, and this,” he gestured through tree trunks heavy with moss and mushrooms, “is my home.”
A forest? The trees gave way to… more trees. Twisting to look over my shoulder, I noted the ground sloping gently away, and glimmers of what might have been a lake at the bottom of the hill, but nothing that looked remotely hospitable.
“Oh… it’s, erm, it’s…”
Idris chuckled. “It’s just up this hill, never fear. ”
Uphill? My feet throbbed. “You said there wouldn’t be any walking.”
“Not for you.” Before I could do more than squeal in protest, Idris scooped me, skirts and all, into his arms, as though I weighed no more than a child.
I threw my arms around his neck, half to steady myself, half relishing the excuse to touch him, to be close enough to breathe down the scent of cold skies that always seemed to cling to him. “What are you doing?”
“Saving your feet.” He set off up the hill, weaving between the trunks and stepping over fallen logs with all the ease of a male at one with his surroundings.
“So, home? You live here in Tir o Hydref?”
“From time to time. Not as often as I’d like, but it feels like home. There’s no pressure to be a flawless prince. No obligations. No courtiers. I used to escape here. I’d tell my parents I was off on training exercises or hunting, and I’d just come here and live like a normal person.”
“I hate to break it to you, but normal people don’t live alone in the woods.”
Even as the words left my mouth, a new thought occurred to me, one that sank like a lead weight down to the pit of my stomach. Maybe he hadn’t been alone at all. Was this where his little boy had lived so briefly, centuries ago? Had he played amongst these very same trees? Paddled in that lake? Collected special sticks and rocks and acorns?
“I never claimed to be normal, I just wanted to be.” He glanced down at me with a fanged grin before returning his attention to the foliage he waded through .
“Is this where you meant when you said you went home for your drawings? You said it wasn’t the palace.”
“The very same.”
“Is it far?” As much as I enjoyed being cradled in his arms, my chilled body nestled in his warmth, there was no sign of a dwelling of any sort, unless he lived in a hollow tree. I wouldn’t put it past him. The cave Saeth had taken me to had been a favourite of Idris’, and that didn’t exactly scream chic bachelor pad either. Then again, Idris hadn’t been a bachelor. Surely Jane would have put her foot down and insisted upon four walls and a roof?
“It’s right here.”
Something zapped my skin, not dissimilar to the tiny threads of lightning he’d used on me, a sharp wave that shot over every inch of my body, drawing a gasp from my lips. A log cabin materialised from thin air, not twelve feet away. It definitely hadn’t been there a second ago.
“That’s some impressive warding,” I murmured, admiring the rustic structure that could have come straight from the pages of a brochure advertising idyllic wilderness retreats. Ferns sprouted straight from the roof, and moss clung to many of the logs. It brought to mind the image of the prince in jeans and a flannel shirt, chopping wood, though I doubted he’d be seen dead in such an ensemble.
Idris aimed for a pair of stone steps, flanked by a low wall on one side, and a tall, stone chimney which protruded from the main building on the other. Crispy leaves carpeted the doorstep, and a layer of grime coated the window that made up more than half of the front door. A roughly hewn wooden wind chime that I hadn’t heard until we crossed the ward dangled from the eaves, filling the area with its hollow clacks and whimsical humming.
“Hydref is under my uncle’s control. The wards need to be strong. Luckily, very few people know of this place, and I would trust each of them with my life.”
Easy for him to say. I’d been in enemy territory before, and it had been an absolute nightmare.
“How do wards work?” If Sage was right and I really was going to get magic, would I be able to cast wards? Glamours? Would I be able to teleport? As stomach-churning as it was, it’d probably be better than walking in heels. “Could these people theoretically lead your uncle here?”
“No.” Idris set me on my feet outside the door. “Only people here on my explicit invitation can cross the barrier. You’re perfectly safe as long as I draw breath.”
The mild air was suddenly as cold as that of Tir o Gaeaf. The thought of Idris not breathing, I didn’t want it anywhere near my head. “Stay alive then, yeah?”
“I’ll do my best,” he said with a wry grin, and opened the door, gesturing to let me pass.
I hoicked up my hem but still managed to drag half the forest inside with me, thanks to the dress’s train.
Inside, the cabin was every bit as charming as its facade suggested. It was the type of place everyone wanted to spend Christmas. Mismatched but squishy-looking furniture clustered around the currently empty fireplace, with a faded red and cream rug underfoot. I could just picture myself cuddled up before the fire, with my knitted-socked feet propped on the coffee table .
A kitchen no bigger than the one I had at home took up one end of the cabin, and a pair of closed doors led to what had to be a bedroom and bathroom. Log cabins did have bathrooms, didn’t they?
“It’s not quite Rhewlif Palace,” Idris said, and for the first time, he sounded unsure. Did he, after seeing my humble abode back home, think I would judge him for his rustic dwelling?
“I love it.” I beamed at him. “It’s so cute.”
He smiled, heading to the tiny kitchen. “Thirsty?”
At my hum of agreement, he set about rummaging through the cupboards. “Make yourself at home.”
Don’t mind if I do.
I kicked off my heels with a sigh and wandered across the room, my train hissing softly as it dragged over the floor. It was no wonder Idris liked it here. The peace must have once been a sharp contrast to his life at court, especially as the next in line. Today had been a rude awakening for me. It had been all too easy to dismiss the prince’s seemingly selfish wishes when I knew in my heart that he’d be a wonderful king, but now I’d had the briefest taste of exactly what being a ruler might mean, I understood the lure of the cabin. It was hard to believe that anything bad could possibly be happening out there in the big, wide world. Hard to believe there even was a world beyond the trees, never mind one where terrible creatures plotted terrible things.
In an attempt to escape that uncomfortable thought, I wandered across the rug. This was the place Idris considered home. It was a glimpse into his soul. It was strange. Despite the things we’d done, I barely knew him at all. Until a few weeks ago, I’d never even laid eyes on him, and even then, it had been a while before we’d shared a civil word. And yet, I knew him. I knew him with an inexplicable certainty that had settled deep within me without me noticing its arrival. We shared a bond, but even before it had been forged, I’d seen beyond his cold veneer. I’d sensed that there was something underneath, something that called to me.
Everything else, his favourite colour, whether he was a morning person, whether he preferred sweet or savoury, all of that was just… not unimportant , but unessential. It didn’t change who he was. It didn’t change how I felt about him. Still, I wanted to know it all, and his little house offered me a glimpse.
A pair of wicked-looking swords hung on the stone wall above the mantlepiece, one slightly shorter than the other. Not to my taste, maybe, but his violent choice of decor brought a smile to my face as I recalled how he’d defended me against foes ranging from horrific cave zombies to Anwir.
A cluster of fat, half-melted candles sat on the wooden shelf, the hard wax hanging almost down to the empty hearth in lumpy, twisting runnels. I prodded one but resisted the urge to snap it off.
Beside the wax rested a broken rock, ordinary and dull on the outside, but as smooth and varied as marble on the inside. I ran my fingertip over the sleek, cold centre. Was this one of Taryn’s finds? Had his tiny hands once held it? Had he marvelled at the pretty colours within and proudly showed it to his daddy?
Pressing my lips together, I turned away before Idris saw me crying over a stone. I passed a stack of dusty, leather-bound books with discoloured pages and headed to the back wall.
Age-yellowed sketches and paintings were pinned haphazardly to the bare planks, most depicting skyscapes, but flashes of other scenery lurked amongst the clouds too. I paused before them. Idris was an exceptional artist. How could anyone create pictures like this, while the rest of us drew stick figures and square houses, maybe with a sun in the corner of the paper if we were feeling particularly artistic? The sketches in his book had quite literally stolen my breath, but I hadn’t realised he could paint, too. Not that I was an expert, but his choice of colour was gorgeous. Pastel blue skies with soft pink and purple clouds, the odd splash of peach or yellow. I’d gladly display these pieces on my bedroom wall back home. Not that it was my home anymore.
Sighing, I glanced at the door beside the little homemade art gallery. The sight of it made my throat go dry. Was that the bedroom? Would anything happen beyond that very door, this very night? Usually, I wasn’t shy about these things, and I knew that once Idris kissed me, I’d forget every reservation, but in the cold light of day, I quailed. This wasn’t like all those other times, and all those other men.
This was Idris . He was gorgeous and sweet and thoughtful, and he’d saved my life. He was my friend . If this happened, if we had sex, nothing would ever be the same.
But I didn’t want it to be. I was different now, and not just because I was fae. Neath had changed the person I was at my core, it had shifted my perspective, altered my ambitions. Not drastically, but enough that I had new dreams, even if I was still figuring them out.
Idris was a dream I’d somehow become certain of.
He’d all but moved the earth for me. Heaven too, for that matter. Without him, I wouldn’t be standing here, or anywhere. I’d be ash on the wind.
I padded across the cabin to where he was making a fresh batch of hot chocolate on the stove. Stepping close behind him, I snaked my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek to his back .
He was right. This was where I belonged. With him.
Some warm and glowing emotion pulsed in my chest, something that didn’t belong to me but that my soul mirrored, and I smiled. Finally, something good. He’d come a long way from the pain and regret that sometimes leaked from his heart into my own.
Idris finished up making the hot chocolate, pouring it into a pair of chipped mugs. I shuffled along behind him, keeping my arms around him. He moved carefully, allowing me to stay close. When the pan was empty and set aside, Idris twisted to face me, his arms wrapping around me. He leaned against the counter, making the height difference less pronounced and bringing his face closer to mine. With tentative fingers, I traced the rough edge of his jaw. He gulped, his eyes boring into mine.
My stomach flipped a somersault. This was it. This next step would change everything. Steeling my nerves, I brushed the wayward lock of hair back from his eyes. It flopped forward again at once.
He smirked, giving me another of those slow, cat-like blinks. “You’re fighting a losing battle there.”
“Good,” I breathed, sliding my fingertips down his temple and over his cheekbone, to cup his face. He fell unnaturally still. I wasn’t even sure he was breathing. “Because I love it.”
“You do?”
I nodded. “I want this. I want you, Idris.”
With another tentative step, I brought my body flush to his and kissed him.