Chapter 12
Castor
Evodia’s room is situated at the top of Magesté, directly behind the blades of the windmill. Unlike the rooms downstairs, the madam’s domain is one of peace and serenity, with its shades of gray and lilac and soft-hued paintings of women holding seedlings in their arms.
Lambent candles emanate calming scents of lavender and vanilla, a jarring contrast to Evodia’s rage after I barged into her interview with a wannabe orchid who looked like they’d just smoked an entire bush of nepenthe.
She folds her hands atop her ivory desk now, fixing me with a stern glare.
“Let me see if I have this clear…You wish for me to take in a mortal girl with presumably no experience in a place such as this so you can convince her to fall in love with you to fulfill your foolish pact with the Redwood King?”
“That’s correct.”
“And this girl believes you are the Redwood King.”
“She does, indeed.”
“And you wish for me to order my orchids and dancers to refer to you as such? To convince the girl that it’s true.”
I lean forward in the wingback chair before her desk. “Have I ever told you that you’re an excellent listener?”
“Why bring her here? Why not keep her in a branch of the citadel and hide her away from the king?”
“You mean attempt to hide a mortal who believes I’m king beneath the nose of the actual king who claims to have ‘ears’ everywhere?”
At least a decade passes as Evodia stares at me, amethyst eyes burning a hole straight through my skull—though not nearly as fiercely as when I first told her of my pact.
Folding her hands before her, she says, “You are a foolish man, Prince Castor.”
Evodia is only twenty years my senior—not a long time for a dryad—and yet she has an uncanny way of making me feel like a child.
As a prince, I technically have the authority to punish her for speaking to me in such a casual manner, but I’ve never entertained the thought.
Evodia has always treated me like one of her orchids.
Stern and brash, with the shadow of care.
Not love, of course. But something that almost feels like it.
“Have I ever denied that I am foolish?”
“The effort you’re putting into wooing this mortal could be spent making a difference in this kingdom. Freeing people who were imprisoned without trial. Convincing your brother to pour some of his resources into this district. Help house the orphaned saplings whose homes have been destroyed.”
My upper lip curls and a thrum of anxiety starts up in my sternum.
Despite my banishment from the bedrooms of this establishment, I thought at least she would agree to the extra help.
“Perhaps I can focus on that when the threat of the Bloodwood Tree is no longer looming over me like a carrion bird.”
She heaves a deep sigh. “Well…I suppose I could use the help. Fern is positively drowning in papers, and organization is not one of her strengths. Though I won’t be hiring the girl as an orchid.”
“Good. That wouldn’t exactly be helpful to my pact, nor do I think she would appreciate me offering up her body like it’s something to be sold.”
She tilts her head at me, a slight smile on her dark plum lips. “Such a soft boy you are, when you stop pretending to be cold and indifferent.”
I really should ask that mortal how she manages to craft her emotionless masks. Evidently, mine is made of glass. My eyes cast down to my lap. “Careful what you say to me. My curse might mistake your pity for love and Magesté will be left without a madam.”
“Chin up, Castor,” she scolds. “It won’t do to wallow in guilt and self-loathing. I know you think you are made of the same vile material as so many of the cruel and entitled men who frequent this establishment, but trust me when I say you are not them.”
A muscle jumps in my jaw. No, I’m worse.
Evodia sighs. “Which brings me to the girl you intend to enchant into loving you.”
My bowed head lifts. “What about her?”
“Are you genuinely willing to sacrifice this mortal to your curse in order to be free of it?”
The recent memory of Maddox’s furious silver eyes resurfaces, how she looked at that golden dagger with bloodthirsty longing. “This mortal? Yes, I am.”
“Why her?”
Finally, something I can say with complete conviction. “Because she tried to kill me first.”
Before Evodia can respond, the air is rent with the sound of pounding—and not the kind of pounding you would expect in a pleasure house. Fists slam on the iron door. I sweep from the chair to peer through the peephole.
Deep red hair. Speckled face. Eyes of iron.
“Who is it?” Evodia hisses.
“The charming mortal meant to fall in love with me.”
The pounding comes again. Harder. Accompanied by yelling. “King Castor,” Maddox bellows. “This whore of yours requests a word.”
Tamarind wrenches her arm from the door. “Are you mad?” he snarls, grappling her.
“Yeah, I’m fucking furious.”
“No, that is not—”
Evodia huffs an incredulous laugh as the pounding intensifies, rattling the pictures and sconces on the walls. “Are you sure she is human and not banshee?”
Regretting it instantly, I open the door to allow the choleric woman entry.
“You both may come in,” I state calmly, as if she isn’t losing her mind out here in the hall. As if every one of my nerve endings isn’t blistering with ardent anxiety. “Release her, Tamarind.”
My guard shoots me a doubtful look before liberating the feral mortal. Immediately, she pushes past me into the room, stopping short when she spots Evodia behind the desk.
“You must be Madam Debray,” Maddox says. “As in, the madam of this brothel the dear king has sold me to.” Tamarind shuts the door behind him as Maddox rounds on me. “Left a few things out of your little debt repayment plan, didn’t you?”
With forced composure, I return to the seat across from Evodia’s desk, sinking into it and propping my arms on the rests. “I’ve sold you to no one.”
Maddox shadows me, craning over the chair like a ravenous vulture. Tamarind keeps his scythe clenched in his hand, ready to strike if prompted.
“Whether money is involved or not,” she growls, “I never agreed to accept you as my pimp. If I’m going to fuck someone, I’m going to be the one who says so.”
Unexpected heat spreads through me at her words along with a lewd image I banish from my mind.
My logical brain knows this mortal is a dangerous creature to keep at arm’s length, but my body knows only my fondness for strong women and affinity for redheads.
Typical that a masochistic dryad such as myself would be turned on by mere suggestion of fire.
Evodia regards Maddox with newfound intrigue.
“Maddox, was it? Your anger is not unwarranted, but I believe you are quite mistaken. The king has informed me of the terms of your agreement. If you wish to prove yourself to him, you may work for me, not as an orchid—a pleasure giver, that is to say—but as a bookkeeper.”
Cheeks flushed, Maddox’s wild eyes briefly cut to mine before returning to Evodia, whose words have somehow acted as a flame retardant to this human bonfire.
“Bookkeeper?”
“That’s right. Fern is atrocious at organization. I imagine I’ve already lost hundreds of gold pieces thanks to her. She tries so hard, the poor thing.”
The feral creature straightens, stepping back from me, focus on Evodia. “What would I be doing, exactly?”
“You would keep the books, count the coin, match the appropriate orchids with the visitors depending on what they pay and desire.”
Maddox’s quick breathing gradually slows as she props her hands on her hips, seemingly considering Evodia’s explanation. Her focus moves briefly to me before she says, “All right, then.”
“Tam, darling?” Evodia turns her head toward him. “Be a sweetheart and fetch Fern for me. She should be in the parlor or the theater.”
Tamarind looks to me, then to the mortal, the grip on his weapon tightening.
“Go on.” I pull out a dagger of my own sheathed at my hip—which he knows is for show more than anything. “I’m certain I can fend off a mortal woman with no magic.”
He seems rightfully uncertain. Of my plentiful skills, fighting is not one of them. Not with a blade, anyway. My power of decay and rot can take down a fleet of dryads if I so choose. Another reason for members of this kingdom to fear and avoid me.
Tam assesses me a moment, then nods and slips from the room. Even when we were kids together, he seemed to be able to read me in a way my other peers could not. His empathy is what made him such a compelling healer.
Evodia continues speaking to the mortal as if I am merely a wax figure taking residence in her winged armchair. “If you indeed accept the king’s offer to repay your debt here, I will have Fern show you around and set you up with a room. You must be exhausted.”
Maddox’s hands slide into her pockets. She does that often. Must be a nervous tic. “I am pretty tired, yeah. And”—she glances obliquely at me, then back to Evodia—“I will work here, as long as my autonomy remains intact.”
“Of course. That is to say, so long as you don’t burn the place to the ground with your temper.”
“I’ll try my best.”
A crooked grin pulls at Evodia’s painted lips. “Very well. If you can handle yourself and help keep this place afloat, the deal will remain. If not, King Castor will have to find other arrangements.” She says this last bit with a pointed look in my direction.
When Fern arrives with Tamarind, her ebony hair is disheveled, and she looks seconds away from bursting into tears. “Madam?”
“How are operations running tonight, Fern?”
“They are…” Fern’s hands wring harder, her voice trembling.
“They are— They could be improved, Madam. The show was not quite up to par since half of the dancers and musicians were absent for the masquerade. All the available orchids are taken, some doubling or tripling up customers. The visitors are…well, they are displeased.”
The poor girl twists her hands so tight I’m afraid they may begin to bleed.
“Fern,” Evodia says in a stern voice. “Get yourself together.”
Tucking her hands behind her back, Fern sucks in a deep breath. “Yes, Madam. I apologize. I am trying.”
“Fern, this is…” She pauses, pressing her index finger to her chin. “What shall we call you?”
Maddox frowns. “Call me?”
“You cannot go by your given name. Not if an Unseelie finds themselves in our establishment, which they do from time to time.” Evodia scans the mortal up and down a moment.
Turning back to Fern, she says, “Oleander will be doing the bookkeeping for the time being, until the business of the Solstice cools down. Show her around and find her a room. She will begin tomorrow.”
Oleander. Fitting.
“Yes, Madam.”
“Come here, Fern.” Evodia waves her over. “I have one additional request.”
Fern approaches, kneeling beside her madam. Stealthily casting vines of silence around the two of them, Evodia speaks without so much as a whisper escaping their bubble. I can tell the moment Fern is directed to refer to me as King when her eyes widen, and she peeks in my direction.
Maddox watches closely. For a murderous mortal, she is certainly untrusting of those who have done nothing to her.
Evodia finishes her instructions and dispels the vines of silence. Fern pulls away and presses a hand to Maddox’s arm. “Come with me, Oleander.”
Before the red-haired murderess leaves the room, I say, “Despite the awkward dagger situation, I’m glad to have made your acquaintance, Maddox. It is not every day a mortal surprises me.”
“Same to you, Your Majesty.” She offers a dramatic curtsy before following Fern out of the room.
“Poor girl.” Evodia rests her chin atop her hands. “She has no idea she’s the chosen victim of the cursed prince.”
“Let us hope it stays that way.”