Page 55 of Fae Games

“We’ll start in the middle and work our way up,” said Prince Caulden.

“Otherwise, he’ll melt,” said Prince Bradwell with a laugh.

“Fine words coming from the prince of cherry blossoms.”

That only made Prince Bradwell laugh harder. I sat back, enjoying the banter between the brothers. Back when I was growing up in Doolish, I had thought the royals to be cold and austere elites who were so removed from being human that they couldn’t show an ounce of compassion or have fun.

I smiled at a joke Prince Bradwell made about Prince Caulden once sleeping on a block of ice to bring out his winter magic. It wasn’t like I was viewing them through rose-tinted glasses. They could be ruthless dicks, but it was a relief for once in my life to be the one sitting among the rich and famous instead of watching them from afar or on a DVD.

The carriage made its gentle descent, and Prince Caulden pulled me onto his lap. “We’re entering from the Faith level, where the roads aren’t cushioned.” Nuzzling my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a gentle squeeze. “Brace yourself for a bit of a jolt.”

I glanced at Prince Bradwell, wondering what on earth he thought of this display, but he just turned to me and smiled.

Moments later, there was a loud clip-clop of horseshoes hitting cobblestones, and the carriage wheels landed on the road with a thud so gentle, the plates and glasses didn’t rattle.

“That was surprisingly smooth,” I said.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get you back on my lap.” Prince Caulden peppered little butterfly kisses on my neck, sending tiny zings of sensation straight to my nipples.

“Caulden.” I placed a hand on his broad chest and tried to slide off his lap. I didn’t mind getting down and dirty with Prince Rory in the carriage, but I barely knew Prince Bradwell.

“Stop getting distracted, Cauld,” said the Spring prince with a smile in his voice. “You’ll need all your faculties for the flesh market.”

“Flesh market?” Apprehension rippled up my spine. I leaned forward and peered out of the window. On our right, a dense forest stretched down the mountain, and what I could only describe as giant anthills whizzed by on our left. “Should I be worried?”

“Not if you stay close to us,” muttered Prince Caulden.

I sat back in my seat, wondering what kinds of horrors I would see in a market that sold not meat, but flesh.

After the carriage rounded a bend, it stopped. I peered out of the window to find a massive tree that had fallen across the road.

“What’s that?” asked Prince Caulden pointed at the left window, where the door of a tiny cottage a few feet away from the road opened.

A hunched old woman hobbled out with a black cat on her heels. As the carriage backed away to give the horses space to jump, the hag rushed to the side of our vehicle and knocked on the window with a gnarled finger.

“What is she doing?” asked Prince Bradwell.

Prince Caulden snapped a finger, and the window disappeared.

The hag straightened to her full height and said, “Don’t bother with the flesh market, the person you want to speak with is me.”

Chapter 15

Despite there being a four-foot candle in the corner that looked like it consisted of earwax, the hag’s chamber was still dark. My nerve endings tightened, making my skin pucker into goosebumps. Maybe there were two types of hags. Those presentable enough to venture out of the mounds and not terrify humans, and… her.

She hobbled to the far end of her room on uneven legs and where a pile of rotting wood precariously stacked in front of a moldy old armchair.

“Be seated.” The hag gestured at the woodpile.

“We would rather stand,” said Prince Bradwell.

“Well, Master Prince-Of-The-Spring-Court.” The hag rocked forward on her heels. “You are in my dwelling, and as humble as it is, I am its mistress. If you want to remain, you, your Wintery brother, and the king-that-never-was need to sit!”

I spun around, looking for a third male, and met the yellow eyes of a black cat with a diamond-shaped patch of white fur on its chest. Sitting on its haunches, the cat tilted its head to the side and yowled.

“Very well.” Prince Caulden placed an arm on the small of my back and guided me to the wood. “We will accept your hospitality with grace.”

“Warm heart, that one.” The hag leaned on the side of her armchair, giving me what she probably thought was a saucy wink. “Cold hands, or is he hot all over?”