3. The Game – Rosemary
The Game
ROSEMARY
Calm down, Rosemary. I silently chastised myself, drawing in a sharp breath while pulling my gaze away from his.
My entire body had gone rigid, ice flooding my veins.
With eyes squeezed shut, I forced deep breaths into my lungs.
Yet when I opened them again, that stormy gaze was closer.
A surprised squeak escaped me, and the unseelie's lips twitched as if suppressing a grin.
Heart pounding, I took a tentative step back.
He didn't have horns or a tail, features common among the unseelie. This one had none of those traits, only disarming handsomeness that belied the danger lurking beneath. His gaze locked onto mine as he slowly stepped toward me, his grin widening with each stride.
I discreetly adjusted my hair, making sure my slightly tipped ears remained concealed beneath the sun-kissed strands of gold.
My fingers brushed the familiar hilt of the blade at my hip.
Though I avoided his gaze, his presence hummed in the air.
I focused intently on organizing my cart, readying for the trip home.
Every step he made resounded through me, sending more ice through my veins as I struggled to maintain even breaths. My heart throbbed against my ribcage as I swallowed back terrified tears. Energy snapped around him as he stopped next to my cart, and I knew, without doubt, that I was going to die.
I'm so sorry I have failed you, Briar.
"My lady," he murmured, his voice deep but soft. Something about that voice sent a shiver down my spine, not of fear, but rather recognition. As if I'd heard him whisper my name in dreams I couldn't quite remember. I shook my head, dispelling the foolish notion.
I flicked my gaze to meet his as he leaned forward with regal grace. Quickly stepping back, I kept the hilt of my blade tight in my grip. His gaze fell to my weapon and returned to me, a slow grin spreading across his lips.
Time seemed to pause as we stood locked in each other's gaze. The market's final sounds faded around us as nearly all vendors had packed and left for the day.
"I'm sorry, but I'm already closed for the day. I have to go." My voice wavered but didn't break.
"Please," he murmured, hand rising slightly before retreating to his pocket. "I understand you're upset. I mean you no harm."
Silence lingered, each second heavy with tension. His brows knit in confusion, a flicker of concern in his silver eyes betraying his cool facade.
"What do you want?" I demanded, fingers twitching along my dagger's hilt.
"You don't…" he trailed off. He looked disappointed. His silver eyes scrutinized me as if he were seeking something beyond my gaze.
"I don't what?"
"My apologies. You just... looked familiar to me. Like someone I once knew."
Was that sadness in his tone? I didn't care. All I wanted was to get back to Briar with my life intact. I couldn't leave with this unseelie's attention still on me, there was no way I'd lead him back to Briar.
"No offense, but I'd feel much better if you left. I'm not who you're looking for," I said, then instinctively added, "Sorry."
"Ah, I see," he replied, voice almost coy. "You're one of the prejudiced seelie then."
His words hit like a slap. Me? Prejudiced? Anger flared in my chest. It wasn't prejudiced to fear death. The unseelie had destroyed everything—my kingdom, my people. They had cursed the land until it withered. That curse still lived in my sister's blood.
"I am not prejudiced!" I snapped, satisfaction filling me as his silver gaze widened.
My fingers tightened around my dagger's hilt, knuckles paling.
Then fear sliced through me as I realized he knew what I was.
But underneath the fear was something else, a warmth that bloomed in my chest when he looked at me like that.
As if he saw something precious rather than threatening.
The feeling was so foreign, so inexplicable, it left me more unsettled than his knowledge of my heritage.
Anger won, and I boiled from ears to toes with the need to stab him. If this was my final moment, so be it. I would stare death in the eyes and not look away.
He took a step forward, unbothered by my weapon, a smirk lifting his lips as if he enjoyed provoking me. How dare this man think he could intimidate me, take pleasure in my discomfort? I stood my ground, not letting his nearness force me back.
I sheathed the dagger and crossed my arms over my chest, hoping he took it as a sign that he didn't concern me.
With my chin tilted, I narrowed my gaze. "I am not afraid of you."
"You should be. I'm exactly what your people taught you to fear." His voice carried genuine warning, not seduction, but the shiver that ran down my spine had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way his voice seemed to resonate in my bones.
He took another step forward, and when he spoke next, the warmth of his breath tickled my nose. His gaze flicked toward the side of my head, to my covered ears. "I think you know that."
"So, you are going to kill me then." I didn't phrase it as a question. With him this close and me so powerless, there was no stopping this outcome if it was what he desired.
"Now, why would I want to do that?" he asked, jerking back a step as if my words had shocked him.
I took the room he'd given me and reacted within a second.
"I don't know," I said, the tip of my dagger, within my grip again in a second, causing a slight indent in the pale skin of his throat. I didn’t even flinch, the blade steady in my healer’s hold.
"You tell me, you black-hearted, unseelie scoundrel. "
He had the decency to lift his hands into the air, but still, pure delight crossed his stormy eyes even as his smirk grew wider. I pressed my dagger deeper until a pebble of crimson coated its tip.
"Oh, how I love the insults that always fall from those beautiful lips," he said, his throat bobbing against my blade. "I must say, the dagger is a lovely addition to these games."
His words made no sense. He spoke as if he knew me, but I wasn’t going to back down. "This is a very real dagger, and a true danger to your throat. I don't see any games here."
"My mistake, princess."
I swallowed hard, trying to force my breathing to slow even as my heart continued to thud rapidly. Princess. He couldn't know, could he?
"I'm not a princess. Don't call me that."
He grinned. "It's just a term of endearment. I am no monster. I meant what I said. I mean you no harm. Do you think we could do away with the sharp and pointy?"
"I don't know who you are, nor do I care, but you will stay away from me." I lowered my weapon and took a purposeful step back.
His gaze followed the blade as it dropped.
"That's an unseelie dagger." He reached for it, but I jerked back.
It was mine, though I couldn't remember when or how I’d obtained it.
As I tried to focus on those lost memories, that same fuzziness filled my mind.
I gave up trying, shoving the crimson-tipped blade back into its sheath.
I tossed the blanket around my wares, grabbed my cart's handle, and hurried away.
The glass bottles clinked as I pulled it along the cobbled streets toward the path home, yet with each step, I still felt his lingering presence.
He was following me. I dropped the cart's handle with a resounding thud as I spun. "I said go away!"
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, his silver gaze widening. "I've just not seen one of our kind in quite some time."
I almost sneered at him. "We are not the same kind, you and me. You're a murderous unseelie and I'm... not."
Picking up my cart, I continued toward the town's edge. He followed, his deep voice almost singing. "There's that prejudice again, princess. It really isn't a pretty look for you."
He sauntered closer, hands deep in his pockets, moving with the steady grace that only fae possessed. A grace that I, despite also being fae, lacked.
"I'm not prejudiced. I'm just being honest. You are..." I waved my free hand up and down, indicating his unseelie heritage, "and I'm—"
"A very beautiful fae female. Yes, I know," he interrupted, lips curling into a crooked grin.
My cheeks flushed at his words, and I hated that my mind chose that moment to remind me of just how gorgeous he was. I gave my eyes a dramatic roll. The deadliest things were always presented in the prettiest packaging. My work with plants and herbs had taught me that much over the years.
I halted, not wanting to show this man the way to my cottage. "We are different," I exclaimed, arms folding over my chest.
"Are we though?"
I lowered my voice to a whisper. "You are unseelie."
"I am." He nodded, hands still in his pockets. "And you're a—"
"I am no one," I hissed, interrupting whatever he'd planned to say.
There were no people close enough to hear our hushed conversation, but the trees, the wind, all of nature had ears.
With the vast majority believing that the seelie had vanished, I didn't want to give anyone reason to believe otherwise.
He rocked back on his heels, dipping his chin closer and lowering his voice to barely there. "Oh, I disagree. I think you are lovely deep down... under all that seelie hate festering on the surface."
I sighed, irritated and wanting to go home to talk to Herb and check on Briar. "Why are you following me?"
"I heard you ask about the Daemonacus flower."
"What about it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I didn't want to let him know how important this was to me.
“Well, it’s just that I know where it is.”