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He wasn’t taking chances.
In his sitting room, Roth was on the couch, and the blacksmith had arrived. The bulky fairy wore a leather apron and carried something that most people wouldn’t want near their neck.
He lifted the black, shear-like tool when he caught Oriel’s expression. “I promise I won't lop off your head.”
That still wasn’t comforting, but Oriel was more than ready to take off the damn collar. He sat in a chair at a table by the wall. “Okay. Do it.”
“Tilt your head this way-no, like that.”
One side slid under the collar. It was a bit tight, and it dug in. Oriel steadied himself as he closed his eyes.
“Almost…”
Metal grated on metal as the pressure increased for a second. Like shears, the tool cut through the collar. Suddenly, the weight was gone, the pressure vanished, and he heard it clunk on the floor. After all this time, it finally fucking gone. He sucked in a deep breath as his skull tingled.
“Don’t worry if your head feels a bit funny,” said the blacksmith. “That happens with some prisoners when I cut off their collars, and it’s just your magic. Have a good day, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The blacksmith took the discarded collar and walked out. In the hall, they heard him start whistling as he thumped away. Oriel lifted his hands and summoned his fire.
It was probably no big deal to the blacksmith, but Oriel stared at the yellow fire around his fists in amazement. He'd taken his magic for granted when it came during puberty because who would dare to collar a Prince? He’d never imagined for a second that his ability would be taken away.
Roth smiled. “That’s one thing done.”
“It’s been so long.” Oriel leaned against the wall as he gazed at his hands and flexed his fingers. He almost wanted to set something on ablaze just to prove to himself that he could use his magic again, but he made the fire shrink and palmed it. “I can finally protect myself with more than a basic weapon like…like a human.”
Roth snorted. "They’d probably take offense to that. Come take a bath.”
The servants had left fine clothes for them, and it felt strange to wear silk again in the morning. He’d slept well, and Roth, the darling that he was, had woken Oriel with a blowjob. The favor had been happily returned.
The servants brought breakfast, but he hurried to check on Aspen again. As he rather expected, Aspen looked hungover as he sat in an armchair in the same clothes from yesterday. Oriel still had a headache from all of the wine, but Aspen had downed more than him. His food hadn’t been touched.
“Um, Aspen-”
“Whatever you’re going to say, stuff it,” snapped Aspen. “Talk to your cousin, or go hump Roth…or whatever.”
Oriel blinked at the sudden anger after so long. “Excuse me?”
“You got here like you wanted. Now you can go off to war or whatever. Regardless, leave me the fuck alone. If it’s not clear by now, I fucking hate you!”
Oriel remained frozen by the door. “Aspen-”
“Nothing’s changed, asshole. Fuck off.”
Oriel turned on his heel and slammed the door as he left. What the fuck? He hadn’t thought things were mended, but he hadn’t expected such anger to return.
“What’s wrong?” Roth asked when he stormed into their rooms.
“We’re back to anger. I can go fuck myself according to Aspen.” Oriel flopped into the chair at the table set for breakfast and stared at the poached eggs on his plate as if it was their fault.
Roth set down his fork and thought for a moment. “I’ll go talk to him in a bit.”
“Don’t bother. He’ll just yell at you too. I’ll ask Queen Asara if she’ll make sure he’s taken care of. He can stay here, and I’ll figure out the rest later. I can’t deal with him, myself, and a war. I…” He rubbed his face. “I just can’t do it all.”
Chapter Nineteen
