10. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Archer
“Bloody brilliant,” I muttered. Not only was I in a graveyard, surrounded by the bodies of people I’d failed to protect, but also I was trapped in a fated bond with a death-lover.
My heart had been the lightest I’d felt in weeks after her healing effects, but I could already sense the despair trying to crowd back in.
The familiar bone-weariness, paired with the exhaustion of my body healing itself after Isoria’s magic had gone to work on it.
I wanted to lie down, crawl into one of the open graves the dead had clawed their way out of, and sleep.
But that would be asking for death, and that wasn’t what I wanted. I longed to shake off the pain and numbness and experience everything life had to offer me. Every adventure, every joy, every thrill.
And I had a kingdom to save.
Stifling my groan, I hefted the death-lover into my arms. Unlike others I’d hunted down, who’d never been especially remarkable in my eyes, this one was beautiful in a way I couldn’t ignore, and that troubled me more than if she’d looked as revolting as one of the revenants I’d battled.
Disgust climbed my throat as I gazed down at the way her hair fanned out, hanging in long, glossy black strands threaded with shades of indigo, teal, and purple.
Why did she save my life? The question pestered me as I started the walk back toward Rainsong, my ears straining for any sound of roaming revenants in the jungle.
Nothing but eerie silence hung over us, all the wildlife having fallen silent in the wake of the blasphemy that had occurred with the dead rising from their graves.
The posted guards at the barrier saluted me like a fellow soldier.
Unlike every other fae who was blocked from entering because of the barrier, Father had ensured that he and his family were the exception.
I didn’t need to wait for the guards to perform the spell that temporarily released the barrier’s magic to keep it from repulsing me, not when it could recognize the blood in my veins.
And because it released its magical hold for me, that meant Isoria—and anyone else I might have wanted to come with me—was free to walk through as well.
Still, I exhaled in relief once we walked through, as if some part of me had half-expected it to recognize Isoria’s magic and repel her anyway.
I paused long enough to relay the sad news, that this female in my arms was the only survivor of the fight.
“Should we send someone to burn the bodies?” one of the guards asked, her tone somber, her periwinkle eyes dim as she processed the dark news.
I shook my head. “No, I beheaded them all to prevent them from rising. But who knows what other revenants might lurk out there. Don’t risk anyone else going beyond the barrier.”
When I took another step forward, I swayed on my feet.
“Do you need help, Your Highness?” the other guard asked, grasping my arm to support me.
I forced a carefree grin. The idea of being parted from the fire demon and someone discovering what she was—it made my stomach curdle.
I couldn’t risk it, for my own self-preservation.
Instead, I’d have to take her back to my quarters and make a plan so Father didn’t question this female’s sudden appearance in my life.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m taking her back to the castle. No need to worry.”
As I followed the cobbled street into the center of Rainsong, strains of music, conversation, and laughter drifted to us, chased by the mouth-watering aromas of a feast. Father’s party continued, heedless of the massacre that had occurred beyond its borders.
The city itself was always a wondrous sight, always pulling me in with the dancing lights of pixies fluttering through the air, the tangled vines hung across the streets or ropes of flowers strung over windows.
But now, in the throes of a party that would likely last until the dawn, it was extra jovial.
Tables laden with food were set up in the streets, the courtyards, the public squares, and even the alleyways.
Musicians played countless songs that mingled and mixed in strange, mesmerizing ways.
As I drew closer, I came upon dancing couples and lines of people waiting to purchase various drinks or food.
Others stumbled about, clearly already deep in their cups, sloshing golden wine on their clothes.
Open doors along the street showed businesses and homes all welcoming in anyone and everyone for food and cheer.
In the shadows, the celebrations looked different, with others indulging in baser desires, such as exchanging violent blows and wielding weapons, or sharing intimate embraces and stifling moans.
“Your Highness! Dance with us!” The female’s violet eyes were bright with merriment as she twirled with a group of sirens in their fae forms, extending her arm toward me.
She looked familiar in a vague sort of way—probably a past conquest I’d enjoyed after we’d both indulged in too much wine.
Or wait…was she the one I’d spoken to earlier tonight? Star? Or was it Ruby?
I laughed brightly, once again the charmer my court was accustomed to, not the one who wallowed in misery behind closed doors. “I’d love to, but as you can see, I have a female I need to attend to.”
Releasing the hands of her partners, her full mouth turned down in a pout that she probably imagined was sultry. “For her?” Her pointed stare was piercing. “Is she drunk?” She sniffed.
“Don’t sound so jealous, Ruby.”
“It’s Skye.”
I cleared my throat. “Excuse me.”
I continued to wind a path through the crowd, more males and females bowing and greeting me, asking after my wellbeing, or inviting me to set aside my “drunk” companion and join the festivities.
At last, the crowd began to thin where the street began to rise toward the castle. My muscles screamed for a reprieve, my exhaustion growing by the minute. The death-lover stirred in my arms, blinking and frowning at me.
“Stop scowling,” I said.
“Why are you carrying me?” she demanded, starting to squirm.
“Don’t,” I murmured, lowering my voice. “Everyone thinks you overindulged while partying. You need to look happier.”
“Oh, are you telling me to smile?” She gave me an overly sweet grin before dipping her brows and intensifying her frown.
I repressed my sigh. “Can you walk?”
She blinked. “A little. Possibly more than you.”
I ignored the jab, knowing full well she was probably right. She’d had a short while to rest, while I’d carried her the length of the capital.
“If you take me into the castle, how are you going to keep my identity from your father?” Isoria demanded, keeping close beside me as we left the partying behind. She glanced over her shoulder once, drinking in the sights, before turning away with a grimace.
“He can’t read my thoughts—or those of anyone related to him,” I explained. “Since you’re bonded to me, I assume the same applies to you.”
“You assume?”
“Look, I’m not taking you straight before him. We need to get inside and rest, and then I can think of a plan.”
We approached the short bridge crossing the Bluemist and leading us to the castle gates.
Palms and canna lilies grew near the water that flowed through the gardens and wound around the castle.
Fragrance from the bougainvillea and jasmine climbing the walls hung heavily in the air.
Twinkling candles made everything look ethereal and inviting, but Isoria continued to look unimpressed as the guards opened the doors for me.
The castle interior was austere compared to the outside, all cold stone and minimal decor—at least in the halls we needed to traverse.
Other areas still showed my mother’s touch, from the open courtyards full of fragrant flowers and songbirds to the magical portraits that depicted whole stories for viewers to enjoy.
Noticing the curious glances of the servants, I slid my hand into Isoria’s, threading our fingers together. My stomach flipped unpleasantly and I gritted my teeth, hoping my smile was convincing.
The death-lover started to tug her hand away.
“Not a good idea,” I muttered.
By the time we reached my hallway, I was ready to collapse.
I paused outside my door, nodding at the guards stationed on either side.
“Another busy night,” I offered with a smirk, before opening the door and ushering the death-lover herself inside when Isoria whirled on me.
“I’m not staying in your rooms,” she said.
She probably hoped to sound fierce, but the quaver in her voice gave her away.
Somehow, this helped me find the humor in a bad situation. I leaned against the wall, the corner of my mouth twitching. “You know, I’m not thrilled about these arrangements either, but annoying you might make up for the agony of tolerating your company.”
She rolled her eyes. “What about the servants’ quarters? Why can’t I stay there and pretend to be a new hire?”
“No one will believe me if I say I’ve brought you on suddenly as a servant. I’ve never bothered with choosing our staff before.”
“What? You want me to pretend to be your lover?” Her nose scrunched with disgust.
Everything in me recoiled at the idea—and, even more, at the other one I’d formulated on our walk. But I didn’t know how else to assure myself that this death-lover would be both able to keep near to me without suspicion and also be protected.
I pushed off the wall, stalking closer to her. “That won’t be enough.” I scanned her head to toe, my jaw tight, before I grimaced. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to introduce you as my betrothed.”