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“Mykind? I’m humanandfae, Albert, and you don’t seem at all uneasy about taking the lives of either. Have you no concern over having killed three men?”
“Of course I do,” he rushes to say, not hiding the ire in his tone. “Which is why I’d like to get us out of here as soon as possible.”
I scoff. “You’re concerned with getting caught for killing them, not over the act itself.”
He holds up a finger. “First of all, these aren’t the first men I’ve killed, so don’t expect me to weep over their sorry corpses. Second, if you note the brass pin each of the men wear on their collars, you’ll see they’re Durrely Boys. Do you know who they are? A gang. Which means there are plenty more of them lurking around here somewhere.”
I blink back at him. The Durrely Boys? I’ve only heard of the human gang in passing. They’ve never caused much trouble before. Not enough to garner the attention of the fae royals, at least. Although I admit I live a rather sheltered life when it comes to such matters.
“I’d prefer not to get my frock coat soaked with more blood. Wouldn’t you say the same for that fabulous dress?” He says it all in a rush, his tone matching the aggravation in his eyes.
I take a step back from him. “What kind of prince are you?”
He purses his lips and begins tapping his foot in that anxious way of his. His fingers join in, drumming against the head of his cane. Now that I’ve begun to suspect his drunken behavior is an act, I’m less convinced that his occasional fidgeting is due to his craving for drink. “We really must go.”
He reaches for me again, but I step back. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me the truth. You’re hiding something.”
His tapping goes still, and he curls his hand tightly around his cane. “I do wish you’d simply believed me when I said I wasn’t going drinking. Then you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
I shake my head, trying to piece together what he’s saying. I recall the way he began limping and slurring just before the attackers closed in. He pretended to be weak, emboldening them to act. Then he countered their attack quickly. Efficiently. But what does that mean?
He pins me beneath his gaze and lowers his voice to a whisper. “You also should have believed me when I told you I’m not who you think I am.”
My pulse quickens as his earlier words echo through my mind.
I wish you understood that you don’t have to worry about me. I…I’m not who you think I am.
“What are you saying?”
He steps closer. “You asked me what kind of prince I am. The answer is I am no prince at all.”
The blood leaves my face. “Then who are you?”
“My name is Dante. I’m a spy.”
10
Inearly choke on the wave of shock that ripples through me. “A…a spy?”
“Yes, but you must believe me when I say I mean your nation no harm. I meanyouno harm. My objective is to protect Prince Albert and ensuring the peace between our countries is genuine. Hence why I’ve made myself an easy target by acting like…like, well, the real Prince Albert.”
I sway on my feet as realization dawns. The spectacle he made at the Salty Satyr, the drunken act in the street…it was all done to make himself appear vulnerable and attract potential threats.
He continues. “I was sent here to pose as the prince until his wedding day. If this marriage alliance proved to be a ruse to get revenge on King Grigory by assassinating his son, then I would intercept that danger and see that Albert was returned safely back to Bretton. If no threats to his life could be detected, then Albert would proceed with the wedding.”
“So the real prince is here in Faerwyvae? Where is he? Was he the man I met at the pub?” I look at the prince—no, the spy—with dawning horror. “Are you wearing a disguise?”
“The answer is no to both questions. You’ve never met Albert. He remains safe back in Port Dellaray, protected by his guards.”
A spike of rage heats my blood. “So you lied to me. You lied to me from the moment we met. Were you ever going to tell me you weren’t Albert? Was I meant to find some unfamiliar man at the altar?”
“I would have told you eventually.” He runs a hand over his face and begins tapping his foot in an agitated rhythm. Finally, he says, “I almost did. A few times. I wanted to, but if you had anything to do with a threat to Albert’s life, I needed to keep my identity a secret from you as well.”
I throw my hands in the air. “What about everyone else? Your face is plastered all over the broadsheets. Your face is the one society has seen. How were you planning to explain that?”
He releases a groan. “Can we please talk about this while we flee this corpse-strewn alley, at least? Or would you like to help me fend off a group of enraged Durrely Boys once they come looking for their comrades?”
My back stiffens as I’m reminded of the bodies littered behind me. “Fine,” I say, marching forward. Before I can protest, he takes my hand and pulls me alongside him. With quick strides, we reach the mouth of the alley, opposite where we came in. The dark street that greets us reminds me of the danger we are likely still in. At least this time I know Albert—I mean,Dante—can take care of himself. And I’ll have no qualms about using force too, even if it means conjuring the lethal fire magic I prefer to keep buried.
