Chapter Seven #2
A tightness grows in my chest, and I try to hide the quickening of my breath.
“I don’t believe in deadly kisses,” I barely manage to get the words out, though they sound weak and lack conviction in my attempt to hide the effect he had on me.
His lip curls, baring his teeth. “What would you do if I had killed them with my bare hands?”
I cannot think of an answer, nor tell if he even expects one. I close my eyes and take slow, shallow breaths, fighting against my weak heart.
“You can relax. I cannot curse with a mere touch, nor am I in the habit of forcing myself on unwilling ladies. You are a means to an end. Nothing more.”
Once I’ve regained control of my pulse, I remind myself of our shared objective and ignore the cruelty of his comment.
“If we are to work together, perhaps you ought to consider treating me as an ally instead of your enemy,” I say evenly, sitting back and mimicking his posture.
He notices. A muscle in his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t speak anymore.
I am prodding at a dangerous monster of a man. But I am safe from him, if nothing else. He won’t—can’t hurt me.
Has anyone ever returned his attitude in kind?
I quickly dismiss that thought. Of course not. He is a prince. One that is powerful and heartless enough to summon the Winter Dragon from the Otherworld and send it to attack the people he will one day rule.
Despite his known cruelty, I trust him to keep his word even if without a bargain to bind us. There was a sincerity in his voice when he made his promises.
It quickly becomes clear that I must be the first to narrow the chasm between us. I reach into the pocket at my hip for the wrapped book and hold it out to him. “I thought you might like to have this,” I say.
The prince flicks a glance at it before looking away again. “I have plenty of books in the royal library.”
I barely resist rolling my eyes as I fight the barest smile trying to form. “Then consider it a wedding present.”
“What is it?” He glowers.
“The text where I found the information about the flower and the tea prep,” I say, ignoring his open hostility. “I thought I would return it as a show of goodwill.”
The prince slowly reaches for it, taking it with two fingers as if it were covered in filth, then shoves it in a nearly invisible compartment overhead that I hadn’t noticed before.
He doesn’t offer a word of gratitude or any indication that he wants to work on building trust. I don’t take offence.
He might need a little time. All I can do is continue to show my intentions through actions.
We sit in silence long enough that, even with the extravagant seating, I grow restless.
“If it is going to be much longer, I would like to get out and stretch my legs for a bit.”
He looks at me as if I hadn’t spoken. Just when I think he won’t respond at all, the prince shifts forward. “Very well, I will accompany you,” he says as if doing so is a great burden.
“There’s no ne—”
“How would it look if I allowed my future bride to wander around alone while I remained hidden?”
When he realizes I don’t intend to argue, he steps out and stands facing away as I follow, unassisted. There’s barely enough room for me to exit without pressing against him.
I shake my head and try to smother a smile. I do not need anyone to hand me down, but it seems he is using the excuse of joining me for appearances to do the same.
Several smaller carriages trail ours, with guardsmen leading and taking up the rear, and several more scattered in between. Their horses wait in position for their drivers to return. Standing torches are in place, surrounding the procession and workspace ahead.
I walk past the prince to the edge of the makeshift perimeter. Beyond the border of light, the woods stretch out. Shadows thicken in the spaces between as darkness falls.
There’s a soft rustling behind a tree. A startled rabbit or some other small animal, perhaps?
A shiver crawls along my spine. Something in the air has changed. It takes me a moment to realize what feels off—the evening birds have gone silent. If it weren’t for the sounds of voices and thuds of wood from repairs to the bridge, it would be perfectly silent.
“They anticipate another hour before repairs are,” Mingi starts as he jogs up to the prince.
As I turn toward the prince, a large, shadowy shape soars over my head, rustling my hair. The power of its movement extinguishes the torch.
Something bumps against the backs of my legs, causing me to stumble and trip over a tree root as another dark shape passes overhead.
The torchlights are snuffed out in quick procession, bathing us in near darkness.
Howls rise up from every direction. The sound is a chorus of dark victory scraping along my bones.
My heart pounds, squeezing painfully. I grasp at my chest, clawing for breath. What feels like branches tug at my clothes and snag in my hair, ripping out a few strands. I squeeze my eyes shut and crouch, covering my head.
Then everything stops.
“Get up,” the prince growls over me.
Peeling my eyes open, I tilt my head back to look at him as I straighten. Barely able to make out his face from the spots dancing in my vision. Either the world rocks beneath me, or I’m swaying and on the verge of passing out.
Then, I’m falling.
A strong arm wraps around my waist, catching me. I never hit the ground. I find myself surrounded by the prince as he holds me upright.
Sliding a hand up my neck to cup my cheek, he brings his face within inches of mine. The molten-gold ring encircling his irises flares, giving the brilliant blue a hypnotic glow.
“Breathe.” The power in that command flows into me like an icy balm. It eases the pain, slowing my heartbeat until I can fill my lungs with air.
He turns me, keeping me pressed against his side as he guides me back to the carriage.
“Get in and do nothing until I return.”
I nod as he yanks open the door and practically lifts me inside.
He is gone before I am seated. As instructed, I wait, absentmindedly rubbing my palm over the lingering ache in my chest.
The howling gradually dies down, and light flickers to life outside the windows. Exhaustion seeps into my body as I continue to wait.
What chance do I have of surviving? Let alone doing so for long enough for the prince to remove the dragon’s curse on my parents?
The carriage door opens, and I nearly jump out of my skin as the prince reenters.
“I believe it is time we had a little chat,” he says. “If you want to work as allies, as you say, then I think it is time you told me what is wrong with you. I cannot keep my end of the bargain if I am unaware of what I am working against.”
He’s right. It is hypocritical to expect him to tell me all I want to know when I have been unwilling to do the same. Everyone knows the fae deal in bargains and trades. To get something, you must give something in return.
“I wasn’t born weak,” I say.
Images of the storm that came out of nowhere and ravaged the land flash through my mind. I can still feel the stab of ice pelting my younger self. “I don’t remember exactly how it came about… but when I was young, I was caught in a storm.…”
Whenever I think about it, the fear I felt that day is as fresh now as it was then.
I glance at the prince. He waits for me to continue.
“I got lost trying to make it home and passed out. I woke up three days later. My parents were so relieved. At least until I suffered my first episode.”
Years of consulting the best physicians in the kingdom yielded nothing more than a handful of guesses and names for my condition, from an incurable malady of the heart to nothing more than being born weak, among many other terms that mean nothing.
Some physicians prescribed medicines that had no effect, while others shrugged regretfully and told us to pray to the saints.
“There is no case like mine on record. The physician declared that I had a broken heart, damaged by miraculously surviving lethal conditions. He said I probably wouldn’t live past twenty…
I’m twenty-three now.” The reason for my desperation, for breaking the Old Laws, is unavoidable.
“That’s why I’ve spent the past several years studying. ”
The prince is silent as I speak, processing my story, even after I finish.
Mingi sticks his head inside and warily glances between us, then announces he will ride alongside us until we reach the inn. We are alone again. Moments later, the carriage jerks into motion.
“It was the dragon,” the prince says reluctantly.
I blink, confused. Does he think I’m accusing him?
“The dragon is responsible for the fate of my previous wives.” The prince looks away as he explains.
Ah, payment.
A truth for a truth.
“Will the dragon kill me, too?” I ask just above a whisper.
He turns his face away to stare out the window as if fascinated by the passing landscape. “We have a bargain. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive and safe until you succeed or our time has run out.”
Safe.