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Destan gives a delicate snort. “You sound like Halima. Anyway, I’m not here to judge. If anything, it would be good for him. Ruskin used to be fun, you know, before…”
“Before Queen Evanthe was attacked?”
He shoots a look at me. “He told you about that?” He sits up straighter, examining me with a new look in his eyes. I don’t like it. It gives me the feeling he’s planning something.
“He never talks about that,” Destan adds.
I shrug. “Like I said. Not himself.”
“Indeed.” Destan sounds unconvinced.
“So, what was he like, before?”
Destan pauses for a minute, seeming to consider whether or not to answer, before he reaches a decision.
“We grew up together. High Fae bloodlines and all that. He never cared what anyone thought about him. I guess that’s how you survive as half Unseelie in a Seelie Court. It meant we’d get into the most outrageous fun. Women, wine, you name it. There was this one time, with a pair of nymphs?—”
I hold a hand up. “I don’t need to know about that.”
“Right, of course,” says Destan, looking abashed. “Anyway, he still doesn’t care what people think, of course, but since becoming Prince Regent he’s different. Secretive. I think he believes he can’t let anyone in, that he has to carry everything on his shoulders alone. But I can see it weighing on him.”
I wonder why Destan is telling me all this when he was so tight-lipped before, but mostly I just absorb it all. Ruskin seems good at keeping secrets, but this kind of insight is going to help me unravel them.
“Do you think he wishes he had someone to bear that burden with him?” I ask.
A crease appears in Destan’s brow. “I think he believes he doesn’t need anyone like that.” His forehead smooths and he smiles. “But there’s always a chance to prove him wrong.”
He leans back, like the conversation is over, but flicks a look over to my worktop.
“This missing thing, do you think you’ll find it in the woods?”
It’s possible that I need something magical, an ingredient native to Faerie, like the augium. If it’s a mineral that can elevate a substance into gold, then I suppose there’s a certain logic to the idea that something naturally grown could turn gold back into a simpler form.
“Maybe, but honestly, I’d need someone with more plant knowledge than you to help me.” I’d done plenty of foraging back home, but I could use help from someone who knew the species that were native here.
Destan rolls his eyes, picking up his book. “I wasn’t going to suggest I go with you. I just happen to know Rus is making a visit to the Emerald Forest today. Maybe you could tag along. He does have a bit of knack for this plant stuff, don’t ask me why.”
It’s a good idea, a great one, in fact. I could gather potential materials for the reverse alchemy and also spend time with Ruskin, use some of what I’ve discovered to get him to let me in a bit more…until I have what I need to get free of this place.
Destan has a pleased look on his face as I take off my apron.
“I left a new dress for you in your room. You might want to change into it before you go to the forest. I doubt yours will hold together much longer, illusion or not.”
I blanch, but he’s already a step ahead of me.
“Don’t worry, it’s not as fabulous as the one you wore last night. Practically dull, in fact.”
I head to my room, unable to shake the feeling that Destan has somehow tricked me into doing exactly what he wants.
Once changed, I use the petal pendant to guide me to a part of the palace I haven’t been before, with an open plaza and individual buildings along one side which I realize are stables.
I’ve prepared myself to see Ruskin again, to not feel self-conscious about the kisses and touches we shared last night. But when I spot him now, a picture of power astride a huge black horse, my mouth goes dry with nervous desire. I silently thank Destan for leaving out this blue silk dress for me. He was right, it’s a lot more modest than the last, and I actually feel pretty comfortable in it. I also couldn’t help but notice the fabric picks out the color of my eyes.
Ruskin tosses his hair out of his face and catches sight of me. His expression goes blank—deliberately so, I think—and he appears serious and still.
“Where are you going?” I ask, stepping towards him. I just about come up to the top of the horse’s leg, and simply have to trust that Ruskin won’t let it stomp me with one of its massive hooves.
“There’s been reports of a feral gryphon roaming the Emerald Forest. The Hunt, for all their playing, haven’t yet tracked it down and I don’t want a repeat of Zastel.” He sounds wary, tugging on the reins so that his steed takes a few steps back from me.
