22. The Nightmare Prince
Chapter 22
Blood was everywhere. Hot and fetid, more than one member of the cooking staff had to leave the rooms to breathe in fresher air.
Being an alver, I was rather accustomed to the cloying scent of the mesmer in my blood, but some never seemed to grow a stomach for it.
I didn’t have time for this. There was still work to be done in the upper room. Sander and Von were up there, but I was compelled to be part of every damn step, and I didn’t want to peel back those thoughts to understand why.
Intolerable thoughts of her blue eyes and the way she leaned into my touch before her mind told her to hide away had kept my mind wandering while shaping one of the shelves.
The woman was torture.
Our shared touches, our kisses, they were a siren’s call, and I could not escape the pull to more with my wife. But fate was cruel and she would rather keep to her chamber than risk the sight of me.
Since the attack, my mood had grown sour and wretched. Part of me wondered if Sander had rocked the shelf on purpose all to get my grumbling ass out of the room.
The gash on my finger bled like it was fatal, but was slowly clotting with Ylva’s pastes she kept in the cooking room for the staff who grew too lax with their chopping knives.
Hands padded across my back. Gentle, feminine. My skin raised in deeper annoyance, and it festered in my chest.
“Are you well now, Prince Jonas?”
“Fine.” I tightened the bloody bandage tighter around my hand.
“Here.” Another woman named Runi approached with a new linen. She kept a hand over her nose, blocking the smell. “Ylva demands you keep it fresh. You know better than to argue, and I think she’s trying to get you out of her kitchen with your stink.”
I gave a nod of thanks and took the clean bandage, peeling the old off my torn flesh. Runi was pleasant enough. Once we took a bit of pleasure from each other in the stables, but she was not under any illusions our time was anything deeper.
Runi was not the problem.
Oldun, new to the staff of the palace, would not step away. Where I would move, so would Oldun.
“Let me help you.”
I pulled away. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Oldun ignored the request, feigning concern over my hand, and used the moment to press against me. Her eyes were big and hazy with desire. Once, I might’ve enjoyed it, might’ve taken her somewhere where we’d both give in to lust.
Now, I could not rid my thoughts of a woman who did not want me.
With care, I nudged her back. “All thanks, ladies. I think I’ll be good to return now.”
Oldun’s fingertips lingered too long on my wrapped palm, unbothered by the smell. “Would you want company?”
“No.” My tone came out harsher than intended.
“I don’t understand.”
“I plan to leave here without company. Is that better?” Gods, I was an ass.
“Do I not please you?” Oldun’s eyes were wide, almost hurt.
My grousing was not her fault. I let out a sigh. “I am vowed.”
Oldun covered a laugh with her palm. Even Runi snickered.
“Forgive me, Prince Jonas.” Again, the woman took hold of my arm. “But we all know the circumstances. It’s not a typical vow.”
“Oh? Did I not take a wife? I don’t believe you were there, but I was, and I recall vows much like anyone else would take.”
Oldun tilted her head, looking at me like I was an exasperating child. “Everyone knows you don’t speak to the elven. She does not leave her room.”
“I think you speak of things you don’t understand.”
“Oldun.” Runi tried to reach for the other woman. “Leave it be.”
“It is admirable that you try to be a husband.” Oldun did not pull away, even stepped closer. “Surely you’ve been . . . lonely.”
She had the gall to touch the front of my belt.
I gripped her wrist, pulling her hand aside briskly. “Do not place your hands on me again.”
“Who does then?” Oldun bit down on her bottom lip. “Surely not the elven, we all heard how it is, and she is a fool not to join you in your bed.”
Mesmer clouded my eyes. I took a bit of delight in the wash of fear paling Oldun’s features. “Do not speak poorly of my wife.”
“Jonas. Gods, there you are. What the hells are you . . .” Von’s voice faded, but he made his way through the cooking rooms and cut an arm between me and Oldun, He shot a look my way. “Step back.”
I bared my teeth, but blinked until the blur of darkness faded from my eyes. I shoved around them and made no attempts to greet a soul until I slammed the door behind me in the half-constructed room in the upper corridor.
Sander sat on the floor, legs outstretched, with a book of elvish plants and herbs open on his lap. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Seems one of the women in the cooking rooms thought she had a right to my bed, and did not believe me when I said she didn’t.”
“Hmm.” My brother didn’t look up from the pages. “You could’ve.”
“Could’ve what?”
“You could’ve returned with her. Could’ve taken her to wherever you go to bed women. No one on Natthaven would be able to speak against you.”
I drew to a halt, my hand hovering over the handle of a wood scraper. “Is that how highly you think of me?”
“You vowed with Skadi to bring peace, didn’t you? You fear war, it eats at you, haunts your dreams.”
“Shut up, brother.” I took up the tool and returned to the damn shelf that should’ve been finished by now.
Sander chuckled, slapping the pages closed. “Isn’t that why you took vows? More than that spell you absorbed to keep the sea and earth realms safe, it is the fear of war and battle that led you to vow with the princess.”
“What does it matter?”
“Nowhere in that reason does it say you must not live your life as you did.” He let out a long breath. “So, you could’ve gone with the woman.”
I yanked the book from his hands, using the spine to point at him. “Stop telling me to betray my wife. What’s gotten into you?”
“Is it a betrayal? Your negotiations do not speak of fidelity, they do not speak of love.” Sander folded his arms over his chest. “Unless those pieces are becoming rather important to you.”
I blew shavings off the surface in an angry breath. “Why don’t you speak a little plainer. What are you getting at?”
“You want to care about her; I think you already do. I think something about her speaks to you.”
“I think you are wrong.” There could be no caring for my wife, not in that way. “I told her when we first arrived, I would not have other lovers. I gave her my word.”
“And what did she say?”
“That she did not believe me.”
Sander hesitated. “Jo, why have you never wanted to love anyone?”
“I love plenty.”
“You know what I mean. You never wanted to take vows.”
“Circumstances changed.”
“I know,” he said. “Now you have taken them, and you look miserable because the wife you claim not to care for isn’t speaking to you.”
“It is aggravating, that’s all.” I flicked dust off my trousers. “I hoped we might be amicable.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Because she does not want it!” I closed my eyes, drawing my pulse to a calm. “She told me she does not want to make this more than a duty. She does not want to know me.”
“That was the argument the other night?”
“Yes, and I am trying to honor her desire, but . . .” I let the words die. They were sharp and sour on my tongue.
“But you want it differently?”
I dropped the shaver and rubbed a thumb over a bloody spot on the bandage. “I don’t know. Gods, she’s awful. Wretched. I cannot get her out of my head. I think she’s cast a damn spell on me.”
Sander grinned. “I think that is how it feels at the beginning of the fall, you bastard.”
I did not dignify that with a response. Sander didn’t press, merely took up his book again. After a time, Von returned.
“Well, I think you properly annoyed Oldun.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Ah, Oldun.” Sander shook his head. “Heard chatter that she has a wager on being the first to bed you after the vows.”
Anger pooled tight in my gut. I was nothing but a conquest, and I hated how it had been acceptable for me all these turns. Strange how a vow, a new circumstance, left me realizing I never wanted that with Skadi.
If ever she wanted me for more, I never wanted her to feel like it did not matter, like she was merely a body.
Gods, what was the bleeding woman doing to me?
“What upset you?” Von’s mouth was set into a tight line. “I’ve never seen you draw mesmer like that.”
“She insulted Skadi.”
“Should’ve known.” Von took up a cloth and settled in to finish staining the edges of another wall of shelves. “Makes a bit more sense then.”
“Don’t start. Sander already tried.”
“Tried what? To tell you that you’re falling for your wife?”
Sander and Von laughed at their own stupidity.
“You’re both bleeding fools.”
I wasn’t certain how long we remained silent, surrounded by the scent of wood and dust, but by the time a voice called out from the lower corridors, my spine ached, and I would likely need a fresh bandage.
“Is that . . .” I abandoned my tools and hurried down the staircase toward our chambers. “Dorsan?”
The elven guard looked like a knight from a fae tale, his fist on my door. Boots polished like the gleam of a raven’s wing, a fur cloak over his shoulders, his tunic starched and stiff.
“Forgive me, Highness.” He dropped his hand and squared his shoulders to me. “I have been sent by the Lady Frigg to fetch you.”
“What’s wrong?”
Dorsan flinched, a crack in his marble flesh. “It involves the Princess Skadinia.”
“I figured, man. Where is she?”
The elven lowered his voice. “There is a disruption at one of your taverns. My Lady was introduced to alver wine, and I’m afraid it has not taken to her well.”
“Skadi had tavern br?n?”
“That’s not ideal.” Von groaned at my back. I hadn’t realized he and my brother had followed.
“Yes.” Dorsan’s voice was steady and flat, but his bright eyes gave up his discontent. “You see, after she indulged, My Lady confessed why she did not wish to return to the palace after the Lady Frigg took her through the townships. She apparently grew rather emotional—strange for her—when she saw you with your mistress. Now, to avoid embarrassment for both Natthaven and your house, I hope you?—”
“My mistress?” Dammit. Skadi likely saw Oldun touching me. I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. “I do not have a mistress, you sod, and she is not an embarrassment to any house. Show me what tavern she’s in. Now.”