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The man scrambled to his feet, wiping his grimy hands on his shirt as he moved. “At the end of the hall, Your Highness. Last cell to the right.” He picked up a large ring of keys. “I’ll take you back.”
“Really, Aaron, there’s no need for you to be down here,” Henri said in a winded voice. “I can have the girl brought up to the throne room. You haven’t even had time to change out of your riding clothes. Surely you must be tired. The journey from Kingdom City
is a long one and—”
Aaron cursed as he stopped in front of the thick black bars, bile rising in his throat as he took in the state of the cell. “Who has been tending this prisoner?”
He hadn’t thought the dungeon would be a comfortable place after so many years of disuse—it hadn’t been designed for comfort and neglect had made it even worse—but he hadn’t expected this. Rats scurried into the walls, fleeing the light of the guard’s lamp, and an overflowing waste bucket sat in the corner of the room. Clearly no one had bothered to empty it in the weeks the prisoner had been confined. The smell was horrible, but that wasn’t what turned his stomach.
It was the sight of her that did it. She lay on the stones, without so much as a blanket, either unconscious or dead, he couldn’t be sure. What had obviously once been lovely, long blonde hair was matted with dirt and tangled around her face, her nightdress was torn and filthy and she possessed nothing but scraps of fabric tied around her feet to serve as shoes.
“I asked who has been tending this prisoner!” Aaron shouted.
Henri jumped at his side, beginning to babble. “Sire, I had no idea the creature was housed so pitifully. This was none of my—”
“Creature? You call this girl a creature and expect me to believe you meant for her to be treated well?” Aaron turned on the shorter, aging man, for once not caring that Henri had helped direct the course of the nation when he had still been in diapers.
“She’s not a girl, Sire. She’s Fae, and the fairy responsible for your brother’s loss.”
“Johann is responsible for his own loss for being fool enough to venture into an enchanted castle. Just as you are responsible for torturing this woman.”
Henri’s rheumy eyes grew wide as he realized the depth of his mistake. “I gave orders for her to be secured, Sire. Not treated like an animal. I swear it.”
“You were in charge of this country in my absence and you failed me, Henri,” Aaron said quietly, his rage cooling into a cold knot of certainty inside his chest. “Your services are no longer needed. You are relieved of your duties.”
“But, Sire!”
“You have a week to vacate your chambers.”
“Surely you’re joking, Prince Aaron,” Henri said, anger creeping into his tone.
“I am not joking and I am no longer a prince.” Aaron’s hand came to rest on his sword. “I am king, a fact you would have done well to remember when you were making decisions as if the crown rested on your own head.”
“You won’t last a year without my counsel,” Henri sputtered, his jowls trembling. “You are not the king your father was.”
“No, I am not,” Aaron said in a soft, dangerous voice. “Be thankful for that, Henri, or I would indulge the urge to slit your throat.”
“Well, I-I never!” Henri turned with a huff and hurried away down the dark hall. The guard attempted to follow, but Aaron stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Open the door to the cell.”
“Of course, Sire.” The man fumbled with the keys, the trembling of his hands betraying his fear.
Good, let the man fear him and let him share that fear with the rest of the castle guard. Indulgence had won him few allies among the militia. It was time to see what friends terror might win for him.
As Aaron entered the cell, cool air puffed gently against his face, a sweet breeze that carried none of the stink of the waste bucket. It distracted him as he knelt beside the woman, making him unprepared for the face he revealed as he brushed her hair from her face
Dear God, she was stunning. Perfect. Heartbreaking. Looking at her, he could scarcely remember how to breathe. It wasn’t simply that she was beautiful—though she was, her delicate features achingly lovely even smeared with dirt—but that she was so…familiar.
He felt as if he knew her, had always known her, as if the woman of his dreams had suddenly been made flesh and blood.
But that was ridiculous, of course. He didn’t have a “dream woman.” Johann was the one who fantasized about a beautiful young woman locked away in a tower, asleep until he braved great hardship to rescue her. Aaron preferred more down to earth women, ones that he could dismiss from his bed in the morning with a kiss and a fistful of coins.
Still, just a few days ago, he had asked one of the contestants of the reality show to come home with him and consider life as his queen. He hadn’t thought she would accept the proposal, but he’d wanted to get to know the fiery redhead more intimately. He’d been intrigued by her in a way he wasn’t by most women.
But intrigued didn’t begin to describe how he was affected by the woman he gently lifted in his arms. He felt possessed, driven to protect her, care for her, liberate her from something that had tormented her for much longer than a few weeks. He was smitten, and as swept away in a hero fantasy as his younger brother had ever been.
It was time to consider that he might be losing his perspective where women were concerned, but contemplation would have to wait until he’d righted a few wrongs.
