Verena
I yawn as the same prim maid escorts me back through the grandiose hallways of Aurefeld Castle.
Her grey skirt swishes softly with every step we take across the polished marble floors. We pass several towering windows letting in the last golden sunlight of a late afternoon.
Greeting King Roderik and Queen Gisela was pretty much what I expected: a formal obligation. Lots of inclining heads, flowery words, acting the way I think a queen would, etcetera.
Personally, I like Aurefeld's monarchs. King Roderik looks like Leif plus twenty years, with a booming voice and all the confidence in the world.
Queen Gisela is well-spoken and elegant.
She's nearly as pale as Snow White, her light blond hair streaked with greys and her smile kind—but again, not warm towards me.
Because as regal and polite as they were, I can tell those two are not fans of Queen Rhinestone.
I don't blame them one bit. That bitch left a nasty aftertaste in everyone's mouth.
In not so many words, Roderik and Gisela implied once again that they invited me here at the request of Hamelnmark's king. They mentioned no one from that kingdom would be arriving until the second night of the masquerade, thanks to some storm delaying them.
A small part of me wonders what on earth the king of Hamelnmark wants with me. Is he the one who wrote those love notes with sprigs of rosemary? Did he and Queen Rhinestone have some kind of royal fling going on?
Whatever it is, I'm not curious enough to stay for answers. With any luck, I'll meet Cinderella tomorrow night, and she'll be nice enough to have her fairy godmother or magic bird friend help me get back to my world.
I yawn again and try to see where Eris is keeping up with the maid and me.
But he's nowhere to be seen.
I frown. I mean…he does disappear to who-knows-where sometimes. It's not like he's always watching me.
Just almost always.
The fact that my iridescent mirror ghost isn't keeping an eye on me in this unfamiliar place puts me weirdly on edge.
"Your Majesty?" the maid prompts when she sees me pause to check all nearby reflections. "If the splendor is to your liking, I could give you a tour of Aurefeld Castle instead of taking you to retire in your rooms."
As gorgeous as this castle is, I want to cry at the idea of walking around more. I'm just so fucking tired, after getting so little sleep so many nights in a row.
Even worse, that familiar burn in my throat is starting to demand all my attention yet again, even though I downed that entire helmet full of Kool-Aid last night.
I just want to ignore the awful thirst and go to sleep for fourteen hours straight—but damn it, where is Eris? Did he get hurt in the mirror realm somehow? Is something else going on?
Maybe this is just the PTSD making me paranoid again, like the doctors say it does.
Just as I start to tell the maid not to worry about giving me a tour, Eris appears in the glint of a nearby window. His voice is urgent.
"Snow White and her lady's maid went to check on the horses in the guest stables, and a drunken sod followed them. They're all alone with that lascivious brute cornering them."
Fuck.
"Take these to my room, please?" I ask, ripping off my veil and crown to hand to the startled maid.
Hiking up my dark green skirt, I break into a run in the direction Eris is already pointing me.
"Y-your Majesty!" the alarmed maid calls out behind me.
I'm already long gone, tearing around the first corner Eris guides me to.
"I did not wish to involve you, but Wulf is not near any reflections in the royal barracks," Eris explains, blurring through nearby windows. "Please do not get yourself hurt defending them, Fairest. Just drain the bastard's blood and leave him for the witchfolk."
Just the thought of feeding makes my dry throat squeeze in anticipation.
The exhaustion that was just plaguing me is smoke in the wind as I race through the long corridor. Several Aurefeldan guards walking down the corridor exclaim in surprise as I burst through their midst.
This castle is as maze-like to me as Isenmere Castle, but the next staircase Eris indicates leads outside.
Now I can see the Isenmerian carriages parked outside a long, barn-like building, which must be the guest stables.
I only start to slow once I duck into the nearest opening. The loud whinnying of a horse and the smell of warm straw greet me as I pant for air, looking around. Since it's around dinnertime, it's full of horses but empty of people—except for Ingrid and Snow White.
They're backed into one of the empty stables by the hulking drunk Eris warned me about.
Ingrid is standing in front of Snow White. She's pink-cheeked and anxious as hell, holding up an empty bucket like she can use it as a weapon. A horse whinnies again, snorting and stomping its hooves in the stall beside them.
My attention slips to Snow White's wide-eyed terror, the dirt smudged on her cheek and straw in her hair…
Almost like she was tackled by that creep.
Whether that's the case or not, I see red.
Allergic to gore or not, I want to do what Eris suggested. I want to rip the man's throat out with my fangs, gorge myself on his blood, and let those creepy-ass witches turn him into another Boneless Bob.
I want to fucking feed.
But that would probably traumatize Snow White and Ingrid.
Their presence is the only thing that keeps me from going full monster, and I instead yank off one of my shoes.
"Hey!" I shout, hurling the slipper.
Usually I have the furthest thing from good aim, so it's a relief when it smacks off the man's head. He grunts, swaying slightly as he turns to face me with bloodshot eyes. Another horse neighs and rattles the door of its stall.
"Fucking bitch, you'll…regret that, you will," he slurs, hiccuping and burping halfway through the sentence.
"Get the hell out of here, Hiccuburp," I warn, my teeth aching to become fangs.
He's a huge, brawny guy, so it makes sense that he snorts at my threat. When he leaves Snow White and Ingrid to lumber toward me, I realize I might have to give in to this horrible desire for his blood after all.
A terrible part of me is really looking forward to that.
But then a stable door bursts open, and a slightly muffled male voice snaps, "Don't take another step, you slobbering fuck."
The drunk, Snow White, Ingrid, and I all look over at the impressive silhouette of a knight striding toward us.
His helmet and the rest of his armor clink with every step, gleaming in the golden sunlight pouring through the doorway behind him.
Hallelujah. A knight in shining armor, here to save me from my own bloodlust.
Hiccuburp swivels to face the newcomer. "Oi! Nothing's happening here that you need to stick your—" Hiccup. "Highborn nose into!"
The knight stops and scoffs. "Trust me, I'd rather not put my nose anywhere near you. I can smell the mead you're drenched in, even from under this helmet. Get out before I sober you up myself."
Horses are still snorting and whinnying around us, reacting to the contention. In the slightly reflective surface of this newcomer's armor, I catch a glimpse of Eris watching.
The man sneers. "Me, get out? Why should I? What's wrong with a nice stableman gettin'—" Hiccup. "Ac-cquainted with some pretty Isenmere ladies, eh?"
Ingrid tries to usher Snow White out of the stall they were cornered into before the inebriated man notices.
But he does notice from the corner of his eye. With another disgusting belch, he tries to reach back for Ingrid. She squeaks in alarm and dodges out of the way.
Before I can fly off the handle, the ringing of metal fills the air as the knight pulls out his sword. Its sharp tip is suddenly an inch from Hiccuburp's neck.
That gets the drunk to back off. He raises his hands, turning to better face the knight.
"Can't impress these skirts without all that getup, though, can you?" he spits. "Wouldn't want them to see you walloped in a real tussle! Take off that iron, and we'll see whose fists are better."
The knight's helmet tilts slightly, and I swear he looks at me.
"Should I, milady?"
I blink, point at myself, triple-check over my shoulder to see what lady he's talking to, and turn back.
"What?"
"Should I duel this prick without the armor? If it helps my odds of impressing you, I think maybe I should."
Eris appears in the reflection of the sword, snorting, "Crones, I think he earnestly means to impress you with a show of his fists. What a ruffian."
Without a word from me, the knight seems to make up his mind. He stabs his sword into the straw-covered ground and reaches under his bascinet to start unlatching it.
I lean toward Ingrid and whisper, "Get Snow out of here before she has to see a dick-measuring contest."
She nods with determination, but Snow White's blue eyes grow huge.
"They're truly going to measure their…appendages?"
"You can say dicks—and no, they're just going to duke it out, but same difference. And Snow?"
"Yes, Vera?"
I pick straw from her pitch-black hair, desperate for her to understand this.
"Don't go anywhere ever again without plenty of guards present.
Even then, make sure Ingrid or another woman is always with you.
And we should see if Anika is willing to give you some knife-wielding lessons soon so I don't have a fucking heart attack like this again.
Never forget, the world isn't safe for someone like you. "
I would know. My world wasn't safe for me, either.
There's no point lecturing, and now isn't the time as Ingrid takes the princess's hand to pull her out of the stable. Snow White casts a final worried look over her shoulder at me, but I stay right where I am.
Mostly because I'm still fighting the urge to feed on the motherfucker who frightened Snow White—but if this newcomer kicks his ass, that might suffice.
Just as I turn around, the knight removes his helmet.
I swear, it's exactly like a cheesy slow-motion movie scene. I'm surprised True by Spandau Ballet doesn't automatically start playing as the tall, gorgeous guy brushes wavy chestnut hair back from his brow.