This Prince Is Not Charming (Brothers of Fairwitch Isle #3)

Chapter 1

Cillian

It was a lovely dream. One where I ran through the stark green fields that had once surrounded Fairwitch Isle.

The sun warmed my face. The grass was soft and springy under my bare feet.

I was young. I was free. And Ceri was beside me, her round cheeks pink and her face glowing with happiness while her golden curls bounced.

We went to the place we always had: a big, knotted tree surrounded by stones and rolling hills.

There weren’t many trees in this area, and that made this particular one Ceri’s favorite.

We raced, and Ceri won, mainly because she cheated.

This time she threw a branch in my path.

I never minded because she was so gleeful about it; I couldn’t even get angry.

Not when she was so iridescent after everything she’d been through.

We collapsed under the tree, side by side, just able to make out the puffy white clouds through the canopy of vibrant green.

“There,” she said, pointing to a cloud. “It’s a rabbit.”

“Looks more like an old woman to me. See that crooked nose?”

“It’s the bunny’s silhouette,” she argued. “You’re not looking at it right.”

“Maybe I’m seeing it exactly how I’m supposed to.”

She turned her head and smiled, her dimples peeking out. “So we’re both right, and we’re just seeing it through different perspectives.”

“Exactly, Cerriwen. Now you’re getting it.”

She gave me a playful shove.

I looked over at her as she turned her gaze upward again, this overwhelming warmth spreading through my chest that made my insides feel gooey and soft, so impossibly soft.

I opened my mouth to tell her something, something I’d been wanting to tell her for a long time, but her head snapped in my direction, her brows furrowing.

A cold dread filled me. I’d never get to tell her.

I wasn’t sure why, but as she scowled at me—seemingly out of nowhere—I just knew something was wrong and I’d never be able to make it right.

“Wake up, Prince Cillian,” she said, her voice not its normal cheery tone but low and accented. Her gaze narrowed. “I said wake up. Please wake up!”

I blinked open my eyes to an angry faerie shaking me, his owl-like face scrunched, wide black eyes boring into mine.

“Fargus,” I mumbled, head hazy and pounding. “What do you want?” I asked.

My adviser dug his sharp talons into my chest, and as I shot to my feet, the owl jumped off me and flew onto a chair.

“What was that for?” I rubbed my chest, which I suspected was now streaked with angry marks.

The room was dark, and I could only see the faint outline of a bed with rumpled sheets and empty bottles of liquor. I might’ve had a little too much fun last night.

Fargus hissed, his brown and white feathered wings rustling, small spectacles perched on his short beak that made him look as boring and serious as he really was.

I rolled my eyes. “You know, I was having a lovely dream before you so rudely interrupted.”

I couldn’t even remember what I’d been dreaming about, but it had been nice, filling me with a warmth I so rarely felt these days.

“Your Majesty, we are late,” he said. He had the same accent all the Fair Folk had. Normally, it was lovely and lyrical, yet somehow Fargus managed to make it sound severe.

“Not so loud.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “It is too early in the morning for this. I thought I told you we’d meet at our spot at dawn.”

Fargus flew from his chair across the room and nudged open the curtains with his beak. The glare of the bright sun spilled in, temporarily blinding me.

Well, fuck.

“I waited.” Fargus turned from his place on the windowsill, black orb-like eyes flashing.

“And waited. And waited some more. You never came. Now we’re late.

I knew I shouldn’t have gone along with this.

I’ve helped you with this”—he flung his wing toward the empty bottles—“debauchery for the last time.”

“At least there’s no naked woman this time,” I said. “That’s an improvement. You should be proud.” There were usually naked women, but that had come to an abrupt halt a month ago, and my cock was suffering for it.

Fargus flew to the floor, swiping at my trousers and flinging them up toward me with his talons. They flew into my stomach, and I didn’t hesitate to shove them on, lacing them up as fast as I could.

“I hope you didn’t tear this fabric with those talons of yours. This is imported silk, you know. Not easy to get in Fairwitch Isle.”

Like all the Fair Folk, Fargus could shift into any creature he wanted, and unfortunately for me, his favorite form was an owl with sharp talons.

“This is going to look bad, Your Majesty.” He peered up at me through his spectacles. “I can only do so much to protect you.”

I grabbed my shirt from the bed and stretched it over my head. “Protect me from what? We live in an invisible city at the top of a mountain.”

Voices whispered in the back of my mind, reminding me that there were many things I needed protecting from. That was the whole reason today was even happening. For my protection. For Fairwitch Isle’s protection.

“From the wrath of the Fair Folk.” Fargus’s wings twitched. “Since your city landed on our mountaintop, we’ve struggled to blend our communities, but we’re finally on the right path.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

Fargus’s magic whirled on the floor in front of me, a small portal opening that sucked my boots in.

The portal reappeared in front of my stomach as the boots flew out and right into my abdomen, making me let out an oomph.

That was the other thing the Fair Folk could do—create portals.

Very useful most of the time, except right now when Fargus was using the ability against me.

“And if you’re late”—he paced back and forth like he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me—“that will be a blatant sign of disrespect. It will make the Fair Folk think you’re unhappy with this arrangement.”

I lifted a leg, wobbling as I yanked on a black boot. “I’m not unhappy.”

Fargus’s head swiveled in my direction. “Yes, that’s part of the problem.”

This conversation was making my head hurt. “Fargus, please at least be consistent. One minute you’re telling me I shouldn’t be unhappy, and then next you’re saying I should?”

“I’m saying I want you to feel something. Anything at all. You’re always just so . . .”

“Charming? Easy to get along with? Fun?”

“Apathetic,” he said, an edge to his voice.

I swallowed at the word. It punched the air from my lungs.

Apathetic. If only Fargus knew that was exactly the way I preferred it, that I couldn’t allow myself to feel things because if I did, everything would fall apart.

That the only way I could go through with today, I could be the high prince everyone needed me to be, was exactly because of how numb I was. How numb I made myself.

Fargus sighed heavily, the tip of his wing touching some sticky substance on the ground. He grimaced as he pulled it away. “This place is disgusting. I don’t know why you come here.”

I shoved my hand in my pocket, feeling for the empty vial that I needed to get refilled.

The plan had been to do that last night, but I’d gotten sidetracked, stopping by Ceri’s apartment to play cards with her and her father.

Ceri had won, of course. She always had to win.

It was a fun night, but there was a sense of heaviness, too, all of us knowing that after today, I wouldn’t be able to just pop in and play cards whenever I wanted.

So maybe I’d stayed a little longer than necessary, making Fargus cranky when I was late and he’d wanted to go to bed, not portal me somewhere across the continent.

“You smell like whiskey.” Fargus leaned his beak forward, then jumped back like he was offended.

I held up a finger. “Expensive whiskey. Can’t get whiskey like this in Fairwitch Isle. Some of the best stuff.”

“And I take it you drank far too much of it.”

When I’d arrived in Cambergé, the plan had been to get my tonic and go to bed.

But I suppose I’d needed more than my tonic last night.

I needed to let go completely. Unfortunately, I’d let go so completely that I hadn’t had time to visit the local apothecary.

“Can’t a man celebrate the night before his life is about to change forever? ”

Fargus flew toward the door, and I followed, the hole-riddled floorboards creaking under my boots. “Let’s just portal out of this room. We can close the curtains and no one will see you disappear.”

Every time Fargus portaled me out of Fairwitch Isle, there was a risk that someone would see.

And the possibility that they’d run to the Brotherhood of Magic, who’d become far too powerful.

They had eyes and ears everywhere, and they were looking for us.

It would only be a matter of time before they found Fairwitch Isle again.

I knew my secret activities heightened that chance.

But I couldn’t stop. It was the only way to get my tonic.

The cold, empty vial pressed against my palm, still tucked away in my pocket.

“You could just drink in Fairwitch Isle, you know. We do have a perfectly nice tavern.”

I snorted. Hardly. I was under so much scrutiny, and my sentient castle would likely hide all the liquor from me. Fargus thought it was the booze and women I came for. He’d have a heart attack if he knew the real reason I wanted to portal out of Fairwitch Isle every month.

He lifted a wing, magic swirling from it.

“No,” I said, and the magic disappeared.

“We have to go, Your Majesty.” His tone took on an urgency.

“I need to do something first.” Surely the apothecary would be open by now. “An errand I have to run.”

His eyes bugged out farther, which I didn’t think was possible for an owl. “Prince Cillian, we’re already late.”

“I know, but—”

“We don’t have the time. I’m telling you, this is bad. There are whispers from the servants that you weren’t in your bed chamber this morning.”

I winced, wondering whether it was my gossiping painting who spread those particular rumors. I’d have to have a chat with Margaret about being more discreet.

“How do you think you’re going to manage all this after today?” Fargus asked, eyeing me through the small spectacles perched on his beak.

My chest tightened. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I won’t portal you outside Fairwitch Isle again. I cannot keep breaking the rules. It’s giving me too much anxiety.”

Panic seized me. I needed that portal. Without it, I couldn’t leave, not when our city was at the top of a mountain and the nearest town was a three-hour walk.

I blew out a breath. It didn’t matter. Fargus was just being Fargus.

At the end of the day, I always managed to convince him to portal me, no matter how much the faerie protested.

He said this was the last time every time, and it never was.

I clutched the vial tighter so that the cork dug into my palm.

“This is going to be quick. We’ll just dash out into town. Lickety split.”

Fargus lifted a wing, and a swirl of blue and gold magic formed into the size of an apple, swirling fast as it grew bigger and bigger.

“Fargus, stop,” I said, voice firm, but the faerie ignored me. I groaned. “Let me at least close the curtains.”

He paused at that, tipping his head. Maybe I could jump out the window. I strode toward it, heart pounding, and I reached toward the navy curtain, thin and filled with holes. My gaze scanned the window for a lock, latch, anything, but I froze when a shadow outside caught my eye.

I squinted at the small alleyway my window faced. A maroon hood and cape fluttered and disappeared around the corner of the wooden inn. I shook my head, not sure I’d actually seen it, but . . . no. I was imagining things. Probably a result of this awful hangover pounding through my head.

“Enough,” Fargus said from right behind me. “You’re stalling.”

I tried to step away, but the portal tugged me toward it.

I turned to see the magic once again alight, circling round and round. “As your high prince, I command you to stop.” The portal grew bigger, sucking me in. “Fargus, don’t! You don’t understand.”

The glittering ball of magic became even bigger. Eventually it was tall enough to step through, a whirling mass of shimmering light.

It was too late. The familiar whoosh and whirl of wind surrounded me like a vortex.

It stretched and tugged my insides, and just when I thought I was about to burst wide open, the magic disappeared, and I landed back in the familiar setting of Fairwitch Isle, right outside the border.

Tall trees surrounded me, canopies thick and blotting out the sun.

The forest stretched on as far as the eye could see.

Anyone who stumbled to the top of this tall mountain would have no idea that there was a hidden kingdom up here, protected by ancient and powerful magic.

I glared at Fargus, who sat there staring at me like he hadn’t just forcibly ripped me away when I’d commanded him not to. I’d make him take me back later . . . or something. I’d figure it out. I had to.

A slight shimmer wavered through the air, the faint outline of a city behind it.

The barrier that had kept us invisible and protected for so long was the weakest it had ever been.

The only thing that kept us safe was how remote our current location was—at the top of Kiln Mountain, surrounded by thick foliage and steep cliffs.

But a remote location hadn’t stopped the brotherhood from finding us before, and it wouldn’t stop them now.

We needed to fix this weakened magic, and today was finally the day I would do exactly that.

My hand went under my collar to the small golden key tattooed on my skin that meant I could step through the barrier, that I was accepted by this magic. Everyone in Fairwitch Isle had one of these keys tattooed on their body.

“Are you ready for this?” Fargus’s voice was so severe, one would’ve thought I was marching to my death. Maybe I was.

“To go through the portal?” I snorted. “Too late for that question.”

Fargus sighed. “To get married, Your Majesty. Today is your wedding day, after all.”

Ceri’s face flashed in my mind. The one person I desperately needed to see after this horrible morning.

“I’m ready. I just need to make one small stop on the way.”