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I ignore the fact that I’m now the subject of gossip within the monster realm. “He went to deal with something a few days ago and he hasn’t come back. I’m worried something is wrong.” That and I can’t even sense him through the bond. My heart skips a beat. If he were hurt, I’d feel it. If he were mad, I’d feel it. The fact that there’s nothing at all is disconcerting.
“Please, Harald. Will you take me to the castle? I don’t have any money or food, but you’d have my undying gratitude.”
“Keep yer gratitude, lass. I want a favor.”
I’ll give him whatever he wants so long as I get to Orcus. “Done.”
He scoffs. “Yer not even goin’ to ask what it is?”
“Oh. That’s probably a good idea. What is the favor?”
“Oi. The future queen, my fellow monsters, ain’t she a sharp one?”
Queen? Orcus is the crown prince. I’m his mate, which makes me a princess and once he takes the throne, I’ll be his queen. All of this information was slotted into my brain, but the reality of it just bitch slapped me across the face. “Oh crap.”
“Are ya going to stand there all day or are ya coming?” Harald calls over his shoulders. The little cart rolls along behind him, pans clanking and tinkling together.
I take a single step to catch up. “Would it be rude to offer to carry you?”
Harald tips his head up and side-eyes me. “Yer not afraid?”
“No. How will you get your favor if you flay me?” I arch an eyebrow and dare him to argue with my logic. “I’m not the king, I promise not to tax you.”
Harald grunts. “Fine. Ya can carry me, but I don’t want that dragon near my cart.”
“Okay,” I say, slowly kneeling down so I don’t wake Prometheus. “I’m going to have to pick you up.”
“I’m not the dumb one, so why are ya talking to me like I am?”
“As your future queen and favor giver, you should really consider being nicer to me.” I carefully wrap my fingers around his torso. His stomach is squishy and his rib cage is tiny. Handling him like I might a baby bird, I grab his cart as well and stand, positioning him in the crook of my arm. “Comfortable?”
His head rears back in surprise, but he quickly covers the reaction. “It’s better than walking,” Harald admits then adds, “My Queen,” and gives an exaggerated bow.
I’m not sure that’s better than being called dumb, but I’ll take it. “Good. Now, tell me what to do.”
TWENTY-THREE
Never insult a trull
DAISY
Whatever is in Harald’s cart smells awful. The pans clank together as we walk, like a disjointed soundtrack for our journey. Even though the path is mostly shaded by the clusters of trees, sweat slips down the side of my face. Summer in this world is no joke. I swipe the back of my hand over my forehead. The movement stirs up more of that horrid stench. I breathe through my mouth and try not to side-eye the cart too much, but eventually I have to ask.
“What’s in the cart?”
“The skins of my enemies,” he says with a laugh. “What’s in my cart? It’s rude to ask a trull what’s in their cart.”
“Right, sorry. I’ve only noticed a smell is all.”
“That’ll be the skins. They take a few weeks to stop smelling.”
Oh… that’s… disconcerting. I thought he was kidding. “Did they at least deserve it?”
He shrugs. “Depends on who you ask. Take the next path on the right and then the castle is a few miles after that.”
I’m surprised we haven’t run into anyone on our walk, but according to Harald, there aren’t a lot of people who voluntarily head out to the castle. It’s probably only been a little over an hour. I’m more than ready to get out of this heat. The humidity from all the greenery is killing me.
“What’s a thing like ya doing with Orcus? Heard he’s a mean son of an ogre.”
