White teeth sink into her bottom lip like she’s fighting a laugh. She’s trying to seduce me, and she’s making no effort to hide it. It’s irritating. If sorceresses weren't long extinct, I'd think she was one. She's wound some kind of spell through the air, the atmosphere between us thick with tension. Her brother, whatever his name was, vanishes into his room with three stoic guards standing outside. One of them slides a heavy bolt across the door.
"Goodnight, handsome," she purrs softly, a mischievous grin on her face.
I can't entertain her shameless flirting, as much as I'd like to. I like women, but not as much as I hate newspaper scandals. Instead, I give her the same cold, emotionless glare that I give anyone else, despite the intrigue she has stoked beneath. "You can thank your brother that you're not in a cell tonight. Don't trespass again. I can give my guards orders to kill you if you do."
"If I'm in here, and there are guards outside stopping me from leaving, is it any different than if I was in a cell?" Her lips caress each soft word, her eyes imploring me to join her flirting. Imploring me to meet her in the middle. I watch my orange eyes flash with anger in the reflection of her own, and take a calming breath to lower my heart rate.Who is she?Delicate freckles dot her nose, her lips soft and pink. She looks innocent, but looks mean nothing.
"Goodnight," I say, shutting the door in her face and bolting it.
I let out a heavy breath as I stalk the palace halls back to my quarters. I plunge myself into an icy barrel of water in my bathroom before dressing and uncorking a bottle of wine in my library. My library is the serenity in my otherwise bustling world. Trees and vines border the bookshelves, a few birds flying overhead. Under the warm light of the sconces between the walls of books, I start to read through a recent healing journal written by Lynna and Talyn.
But the blissful twilight silence is fragmented by the noise of the stained-glass window beside the wine cabinet shattering. I take a deep breath and stand, watching a satin-black metal arrow clatter to the floor beside me. My blood heats with anger, flooding every corner of my veins with a desire to ruin this woman’s life. I immediately know who is responsible, but I pick it up and turn over the tiny note attached to the fletching anyway.
You shoot at me, I shoot at you. Hide and seek is my favourite game.
Some guards are getting fired tonight, that is for sure.
Chapter4
A Potion (Renna)
Inever expected the Forest King to look like that.
He looks younger than I thought he'd be. When Anna said he was beautiful, I pictured some symmetrical mannequin of a man, but Rexxan is different. He is huge, both in height and in breadth, with auburn-orange eyes, dark messy hair and a lighting-like scar that runs down his face, over his defined jawline, plummeting down into the top that hugged the dense muscles of his chest.
I wonder how far the scar goes, and where he got it. He looks simultaneously beautiful and rugged, like he's faced all the horrors of the world and come out on top. And for whatever reason, he’s determined not to entertain his curiosity with me.
But my love-in with the Forest King ends with the physical, because he is up there with the most detestable people I've ever met in my life. I’d have more than happily spent the night in his bed if he could’ve conjured up even an ounce of personality. Plus, he needs to review his guards if they are that easily seduced. One run of my fingers up the doorframe, one bite of my lip, and one low-cut top and I was out of there.
Perhaps I should've stayed in my room, but confinement is just not for me. Been there, done that, and I still live with the nightmares. Onyx isn't speaking to me, and with good reason. It's been three days since I escaped, and he's returned to our inn injured and absolutely dripping in sweat every day. The King's guards are working him to the bone to pay for my behaviour.
"O."
"I'm not in the fucking mood."
He stomps past us, the wooden door threatening to fall off its rusty hinges as he slams it in my face. Stellan rolls his eyes, stuffing some bread into his mouth. "Come on, Onyx, she's said she's sorry."
"I fucking know!" He yells back, and I hear the sound of his boots being hurled at the door. Onyx is scary when he's angry. He's never angry.
I press my forehead to the warped wood of his door. "I have to go to this meeting with the Five Kings and Queens. Please can we talk later? I swear I'll behave at the meeting, O. I know when to be serious for the good of our people."
"Yes, we'll talk later.” I hear him sigh, footsteps approaching. The poor battered door swings open once more, and his exasperated face stares back at me. He places a soft kiss on my forehead, the gentle giant that he is. "I love you, even if I don't always like you," he says, on a tired exhale. I shut my eyes, my head resting on his chest. He is all the family I have left in this world; I don't want to fight with him.
I have to do better for him.
I dress in black hunting gear, tugging some black leggings over my hips. Knives and vials of toxins cling to my thighs. I step into black boots, tying the laces with fingers covered in rings. As an afterthought, I put an expensive black velvet cloak around my shoulders, my own feeble attempt at fitting in with the Kings and Queens. I brush out my waist-length dark hair, winging my eyes out with black liner, doing a long point at the outer edge and a tiny one at the inner corner.
I look good.
I twirl my favourite knife between my fingers, heading out the inn with a quick salute at Onyx and a wink at Stellan. Under the baking sun, I ride to the palace, showing them my invite to the King's and Queen's gathering. I think King Espan had to sell his left kidney to bribe the Forest King into writing one of those for me. Espan is the single kindest person I know; one of those people who makes you feel like a terrible human being because they're so disgustingly nice.
I am led up pale stone steps by a guard in gold and red armour. This palace is devastatingly beautiful; an oasis of natural life. The courtyard is a large stone circle surrounded by ancient trees. Every door, every table, every column, they all add to the feeling that I am in a forest and not a palace.
The very second I enter the courtyard, I'm swept into a warm hug by King Holn of the Mountains, who I haven't seen for a while now. His hair is greyer than the last time I saw him, the lines around his eyes a little more prominent. He must be in his late forties, now, but he's still handsome. He holds me at arm's length. "You get more beautiful by the day! You're not ageing at all. What's the secret? Hela, come and look at her."
I laugh as the Mountain Queen picks me up with just as much ease as her husband and spins me around. "Oh, my dear. It's lovely to see you. You know how much we worry; your lifestyle isn't safe!"
“Let the poor woman breathe, Hela,” scolds Holn, as his wife squeezes the ever-loving daylights out of me. I pull away, genuinely smiling. They have a wonderful relationship, and I bury the grain of envy that materialises in my chest. I’ll never know what that’s like, but I’m accepting that.
