Chapter 2
MAE
Today is market day, and I have been dressed and waiting for the sound of Asmo’s door for hours.
Finally, his bedroom door clicks open, then shuts.
His footsteps grow softer as he nears the living room and offers someone a muffled greeting.
I throw the covers back and shove my feet into boots that have seen better days.
“I have been cooped up in this Mother-forsaken house for over a month,” I say as I approach the living room, foregoing any kind of salutation. I straighten and say in the queenliest voice I can muster, “I’m coming with you.”
Luca freezes over his bowl of oatmeal.
Asmo looks me up and down. I tilt my head, daring him to challenge me. “And you've been half-dead for nearly half that time,” he says.
“Yes, well, I’m fine now,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “But I’m going to lose my mind if I stay here any longer.”
His brows draw together and a frown flashes across his features. As if he knows that in fact, I’m not fine, and my mind is already lost.
He tosses me a canvas bag. "Fine. But if you're coming, you’re going to help carry the food back.”
I snatch it from the air, trying to smother the smile that threatens to take hold. I expected more of an argument.
Luca drops his dirty bowl into the basin and turns. “You think that’s safe?”
Asmo shrugs and walks past me, reaching for the front door. “I think she can make her own decisions.”
“She’s our queen. She needs to be protected,” Luca retorts.
“She’s right here,” I say, “and she’s coming with you. I can protect myself. Besides, you’ve been going into town for weeks now and the worst thing you’ve seen is humans arguing over the price of eggs.”
Luca huffs a sigh and shoves his feet into his boots.
“You know what, Luca? Why don’t you stay here?” I ask cheerfully. “I think Asmo and I can handle the market trip ourselves.”
Luca freezes, his foot halfway into one scuffed leather boot. He glares up at me, and I grin. Guilt prickles, but I need to get out of this house.
“Come on, princess,” Asmo says behind me.
Luca finishes shoving his boots on, shoulders his bag, and motions toward the door. “After you, Your Highness.” The title drips with condescension.
I swallow my retort. It never helps anything.
This isn’t the first time Luca and I have gotten snippy with each other.
None of us are used to living in a cramped, abandoned cabin in the woods, terrified that Marik or Cora will come bursting down our door one day.
We’re all fraying at the edges. Nobody knows what to do or how to get back to the throne.
In all their years helping the High Throne, Luca and Ivan have never had to deal with a thousand-year-old witch stealing it.
We spend most nights arguing over our limited options.
Lately, those arguments have grown quieter, shorter. I tell myself we’re not giving up.
Before we can step through the protective barrier, Asmo stops me with an arm and looks at me pointedly. “Glamour.”
I throw my hand up, my magic hiding my antlers and pointed ears. Asmo and Luca do the same. They look so…normal. Shorter, rounded ears, and frankly, duller. Just like humans. Perfect for our destination.
Asmo funnels us as close to town as we dare—just far enough not to risk anyone seeing us appear out of thin air and exposing our hybrid status.
The blue sky is full of white, puffy clouds, and I raise my face to the morning sun and beam.
For the first time in weeks, it feels like I can breathe.
I’ve been longing to explore the forest that surrounds the house, but I haven’t wanted to risk it.
Besides, it’s not like anyone would have let me wander outside of the barrier.
“Let us know if you need to take a break,” Luca says beside me.
“Why would I?” I ask.
“The walk is long. You’re still recovering, are you not?”
He might have a point. Only two weeks ago, I was still bedridden.
When I was finally able to get up, every muscle in my body ached for days.
Even now, I can feel my legs growing tired.
On instinct, I reach for the black mark that mars the center of my chest, the remnants of the bolt that almost took more than my kingdom.
It still aches, but that, at least, lessens every day.
Holly, on the other hand, still spends most of her days in bed. Her burns are mostly healed now, but spending so much time in bed has left her weak.
“She’ll be fine,” Asmo says, but I can tell he’s not certain.
We fall into a silence, the three of us walking single file down the path as the human town of Briar’s Glen draws closer.
Clean, white limestone buildings stand crowded together, thatched roofs forming a short silhouette against the blue sky.
Tiny windows dot the buildings, overgrowing flower boxes nestled below.
“When we arrive, we’re going straight to the market. It should be opening as we get there. We get in and we get out,” Luca says.
I nod in understanding.
The town is quiet, so different from Pinebend on a sunny morning, always bustling with hybrids as soon as the sun rose.
A thick lump forms in my throat as I think about the town that I called home.
About mornings spent with Cally, as we did our daily inventory over shared cups of coffee in Bound, the bookstore we created together.
I swallow the lump, wincing as it goes down.
The market is nearly empty, only a few people perusing the stalls and picking out the best produce.
A mother and son share a pastry on a nearby bench, their rounded ears the telltale signs of their humanity.
Luca mutters something about vegetables before leaving Asmo and me by a vendor selling fresh bread.
“One loaf of sourdough, please,” I say to the portly woman.
Her answering smile is tired. “Three coins.”
I nudge Asmo. I certainly didn’t bring any money. He digs in his pockets and my mouth waters as I plop the loaf into my bag.
“We don’t normally get bread,” Asmo says as we walk away from the vendor.
“I know. Thank the Mother I’m here.”
He shakes his head, but there’s a rare smile on his face.
We grab the rest of the necessities—apples, bananas, a lavender-scented bar of soap, rice, and eggs—without incident.
The market gets busier as we shop, humans joining with their own bags and carts to load up and bring back to their families.
Asmo pulls me to a cart overflowing with flowers—brilliant hues of light pink, pearly white, buttercup yellow, and crimson red.
The floral scent brings me back to childhood, and I can’t help but smile. When I was younger, I would spend hours pretending I had my own flower shop, plucking perfect blooms and arranging bursting bouquets.
An old woman sits on a stool beside a collection of wildflowers. The sun beams down on her, highlighting her warm, brown skin and salt-and-pepper hair. She smiles in greeting, the motion pulling at wrinkles.
“These are beautiful,” I say as I reach for a bouquet of light pink carnations.
She nods appreciatively. “All grown in my garden.”
“I’ll take a bundle.” When I turn to Asmo for the coin purse, he’s eyeing a small bouquet of red flowers that look like drooping hearts.
“What are these?” he asks the vendor.
“Bleeding hearts. Native to the Deer Court.”
Asmo huffs a laugh under his breath. “Of course,” he mutters. “These, too.”
She wraps the bleeding hearts and the carnations in old newspaper and ties them together with a blue string. I tuck them into my bag. “Four coins,” the woman says.
I blink. “Are you sure? Only four?”
She nods, but it’s sad. Tired. “Market’s turned. Most folk are sticking to the essentials. Not a lot of extra money to go around for things you can’t eat or wear.”
“Wh—”
“Hard times,” Asmo agrees solemnly and hands over the payment. “Thank you.” He grips my elbow and tugs me away. “Princess, you can’t—”
“Stop. I know. You don’t have to say it,” I snap. Just like that, embarrassment has returned, another weight on my shoulders. Asking the locals questions only risks exposing us. I forgot where we were and who we were pretending to be. I could have ruined everything with that one question.
We find Luca leaning nonchalantly against a wall, his bag on his shoulder overflowing with fresh vegetables.
A flash of relief crosses his features when he spots us.
Asmo and I follow him as he sets a quick pace through the town square, which has grown even busier since this morning.
We weave around men and women, muttering apologies as we go.
I forgot how slow and clunky humans are.
It’s been years since I left the town I grew up in and moved to Pinebend.
Growing up as the only hybrid in Black Hollow was hard.
Although the humans that live in the hybrid courts are friendly, the ones in my hometown were not.
My antlers alone were enough to make me stand out from the other kids, but my magic was another thing.
I had to make myself smaller whenever I was around my “friends,” careful to avoid scaring them with the small amounts I used.
I shake my head as I think about how well Cora’s plan worked.
She didn’t even have to do anything to stunt my magical abilities.
The environment I was in took care of that.
She was always there to comfort me whenever the others were too mean.
She was there to be the good guy, when she was really the villain the entire time.
“Hey,” Asmo calls to Luca, pulling me from memories of another town from another time. We’re stopped in front of a café, the smell of freshly poured coffee and fresh pastries making my mouth water and my stomach do flips. “Let’s stop here.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Luca says. “We can’t—”