Chapter 11 #2
“Take your time drying off, now. I’ve set your clothing on the stool just there,” she says, pointing across the room.
I follow her bent finger to a small wooden chair leaning against the stone wall, a stack of black clothing nestled neatly in the seat.
My dagger sits atop the garments, glinting in the soft candlelight.
I’m surprised I’m allowed to keep it. A pair of brown leather shoes catches my eye.
They’re far too small for my elven feet.
“I’ll be outside preparing your bed. You’ll be sleeping with us, in the servants’ quarters.
I hope that’s alright.” She gathers the dirty sponge and washing cloth into a bucket and loops her arm through its rope handle.
Her eyes flick to my ears, which I realize she hadn’t touched during the bath.
“Before you leave, be sure to rinse your ears. I’m not sure what happened to them, but we’d hate for them to grow infected. ”
Before I can respond, she turns and leaves, shutting the door softly behind her.
A few seconds pass, perfectly enough time for me to suck in a shaky breath and squint through the muggy mist hovering in a haze around the bath chamber.
It’s my first moment alone in a castle of enemies who will kill me if they ever find out who I am.
I hesitantly peek at my feet. Just like Ramiel said, they are no longer elven in size.
One might actually mistake me for a human.
Those brown shoes ought to fit. Perhaps, when I was a much younger, much more naive elf, I’d have loved to be treated as an equal.
But not like this. Not looking like one of them.
A spark of excitement makes my heart leap. Gives me a childish hope.
No. I breathe in slowly. I’m an elf. No elixir is going to change that. No human would befriend an elf posing as a human.
A small mirror rests on my clothing, and I catch my reflection briefly, though it’s blurry from the wetness of the air.
My hair, pearl-colored and long, is not as hideous as I remember, but it’s certainly noteworthy.
No human has such an abnormal hue to their head of hair.
It’s ironic. In Nwatalith, dark hair is a rarity.
In Arioch, light hair is unheard of. I’ll have to find something to dye it again later.
As I move stiffly to the stool, I’m much too aware of the tightness of the towel hugging my hips, my thighs, my breasts. Restricting my movement. Marking me as vulnerable should anyone?—
As though answering my thoughts, an overwhelming, sizzling force poisons the mist and sends jolting droplets of water skittering across my exposed skin.
This is an energy I’m no stranger to.
My head whips around, and he’s there, inches from my face.
Golden brown eyes filled with bloodlust peer through long white lashes.
His body is floating, held by the bones of silver wings that twitch on his back.
The prince’s companion appears vaguely different from how he does in his human form.
Same hair, eyes, face, but skinnier. Rotting away.
And sickly gray, almost translucent skin.
He serves the king, yet his time away from the forest has sucked him dry.
I feel a fleeting sense of victory, proof of the king’s cruelty extending beyond Aldorin’s border, that even his magical servants can’t escape his decrees against the rest of us.
But right now, I couldn’t care less about this creature who’s invaded my privacy.
“I should’ve known you were a fairy. It all makes sense, given how you not only failed to mask your nature from your sworn enemy, but also poisoned me with your damned elixir .
” I growl, matching the intensity of his glower.
My hands twitch at my sides, desperate for my knife.
“What’s a petal-brain like you doing in my bathing chamber? ”
He chuckles, a dark and gurgled sound like he’s choking on blood. Unnatural . But he won’t be punished for his laughter. Not if he’s got the throne wrapped around his little finger.
For a moment, my insult seems to bewilder him. Then, a smile cracks across his too-straight teeth.
“That damned elixir is what got you safely into this castle,” he purrs, ignoring my question.
I snarl at the suggestive inflection in his words.
“I’m sure you’re aware of this by now, that is, assuming you have any sense beyond your deep-seated hatred for my kind, but I will spell it out for you.
I am Ronan Perri, son of Viktor Perri and heir to the Perri Duchy.
We serve the throne, and live to the west of the castle.
As such,” he says with a sardonic grin, “we do not associate with creatures of the forest. However, because you caught onto me so quickly, I’m here to collect on your suspicions before you think it smart to blabber my identity to the prince. ”
My chest rages with a fiery heat. Instinct is loudest when anger fills the soul.
And it has been too long since I’ve ended a fairy’s pathetic existence.
My hands itch forward.
I wrap my fingers around his neck.
His pathetic, fragile neck.
It’s not as muscular as it looked before. I can break it, the hollow bones weak from the absence of magic in the kingdom. It would be so easy.
Too easy.
He looks at me through white lashes, no hint of concern in his eyes.
As I tighten my grip, he smiles. The sound of his distasteful laughter vibrates in his throat, and I retract my hand quickly. A shiver rattles my spine.
“You’re insane.” I want to kick myself for how my voice shakes. At what his despicable chuckle has done to me.
“And?”
I cross my arms defensively over my chest, remembering myself and my vulnerable condition. Soft skin and human-cursed flesh. Covered only by a towel. He doesn’t seem to care. “What makes you think I won’t tell the prince?”
“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes darken along with the timbre of his voice. “That wouldn’t be wise.”
I glance around the room, remembering my obsidian blade nestled into the fabric of the black training clothes on the stool behind me.
“You’ll have to do better than that. Empty threats mean nothing to me.
According to Ramiel, I’m already living on borrowed time.
” A smirk lifts the corner of my lips as I hiss the words out, but the emotion behind them is far from amusement.
“Killing you would be easy. I’ve done it too many times to count.
I take great pleasure in ripping the wings from the backs of your beloved kin. ”
His wings twitch as he hovers closer to me, the traitorous smile never leaving his thin, pale lips. “I love it when you threaten me, darling.” He flexes his fingers, then tilts his head, angling it down at me. “But you’re missing the point. Get to know me. I’m quite unlike others of my kin. ”
My arms are rods at my sides, stiff from indecision.
We are exterminator and vermin, both fated to despise one another for what the other is. Hatred for his kind runs thick in my veins. Fire boils in my blood, but it’s weak. Sapped. Drowsy. Not at all what it should be, thanks to the lack of magic in the kingdom.
My eyes widen in panic.
“Shall we continue this charade?” he asks with a smile. The warmth in it is disarming. An illusion . He clears his throat, his voice taking on a nasally tone. “Ramiel is in a vulnerable state. His brother just died, you know. I tried to intervene, but?—”
My eyes widen, and he grins at the reaction.
He knows what I’m thinking. Intervention can only mean one thing…
The prince had used magic, and therefore needed a medium through which to pull from.
I’ve heard of humans using magic, but it’s different from the magic we use in Aldorin.
Ours is pure, provided through the ley lines running beneath our trees.
I’m not sure the source of the magic humans use, but any mention of it in Nwatalith earned us scowls from our teachers. It’s a taboo topic.
“Nothing I could have done would have saved his life. The war with Midra was a death sentence. Once the enemy killed their target, they retreated.”
“Do you think I care?” I spit.
His teeth snap together, and his lips stretch further over them.
“Of course not. I just want you to realize the current state of this kingdom. We lost a war. We are now a target with no champion. All guards are on high alert for any threats.” His gaze scrapes over me so slowly, I can nearly feel it.
“I’ll also remind you, I am the sole heir of a powerful household favored by the king.
It would hardly be wise to twist your knife in my gut before you secure your freedom. ”
How he can manage to maintain loyalty to the humans who have banished his own kind to Aldorin is beyond me. Then again, he’s been kissing the king’s rings since infancy. He’s no different from his people’s oppressors.
“You’re vile,” I growl. But before I can say anything else, my head is spinning, and I collapse to my knees, palms hitting the hard ground. My vision winds, swirling the hazy bathing room like spilled paint. I have to consciously think to breathe. Blinking just barely brings things into focus.
The fairy laughs. The sound rattles in my head, cacophonous.
“You are in no position to call me anything , wretched elf . Not when that magical lozenge is melding with your body as we speak. Not when you’ve been reduced to humanity.
You’ve no control over magic in your current state, and yet, you’re still acting as though I’m beneath you?
Or perhaps you honestly think you stand a chance against me, seeing as how your body isn’t convulsing from the lies you’re spraying.
” His words are filled with venom, charged with hatred. He sighs angrily.