AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You seem quite eager to,” I shot back.
“Only because this is all very intriguing.”
“You also seem quite confident that I won’t slit your throat for wasting my time like this,” I snarled, even though I had no desire whatsoever to do it.
“Such dramatics.” She rolled her eyes, but strangely, her mouth twitched into a fond smile. “Obviously I’m going to tell you, wayward prince. For a price.”
I didn’t say anything at first, weighing my options. I didn’t trust her, but even the smallest hint of what had been happening on unseelie during my absence would help me better prepare for what I would be walking into.
“What’s your price?” I slowly sheathed my sword to show her that I was willing to listen.
Her jaw clenched, eyes flaring with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. Her chin lifted. “That you won’t hurt Belial. He was only doing his job when he brought the mortal here. We all know what happens when the Carlin’s orders are not followed, assassin prince.”
I managed to mask my surprise that she would ask for something that didn’t directly benefit her. That level of selflessness was uncommon among the Folk, especially in the face of gaining something they wanted from a High Fae.
Was she with Belial? I didn’t know him well enough to be privy to any details of his life, but I had no intention of hurting the apothecary. Still, I waited a few long moments before answering. “Agreed.”
“Vow it.”
“No. You know I won’t trap myself in that kind of vow. If Belial ever tries to kill me or someone I care for, I can’t promise that I won’t harm him.”
“Belial wouldn’t,” she shot back. “He simply enjoys his work.”
“I’m familiar with Belial and his work,” I said flatly. “And I assure you that I have no plans to harm him. So I agree to your price.”
She gave a curt nod before reaching back into her basket and pulling out a handful of cherries. Like before, she offered them to me. When I declined with a shake of my head, she plucked off the stalk of one and popped it into her mouth.
“We all have opinions on who is the worst son,” she told me around her mouthful, then spat out the cherry seed. “Caom thinks—or thought, I should say—it’s Bres, but I think that was because he was envious of how well he could manipulate others with his words. Many get uneasy when they are remotely close to Cethlen and his all-hearing ears. Some, of course, think it’s you, the wraith who lurks in the shadows and slaughters Folk for his mother. But I’ve always known that it is Balor. Balor’s eyes make me feel cold inside in a way that is unpleasant.”
“He is the worst,” I muttered before I could stop myself. Then something she’d said made me frown. “What do you mean the gancanagh thought Bres was the worst? Is one of them dead?”
“Neither are dead.” Her green eyes gleamed. She glanced around, then leaned closer. “But something has happened to Bres. He’s been different ever since the day your seelie king sauntered out of the palace without a scratch, cradling that injured little bird that you refuse to admit was you.”
I clenched my jaw, choosing to ignore that last part. “Different how?”
“Well, I only know this because I’m friendly with some of the kitchen staff.” Idony seemed eager to impart this gossip, almost gleeful to be telling me. “When I delivered wine to the palace after that day, one of them told me that Prince Bres was acting strangely. It was like he couldn’t hear anyone. At first they all thought he’d gone deaf.”
“Deaf?” I frowned. “But how—”
“But then they realised he hadn’t,” Idony continued. “He could still hear sounds. He just couldn’t hear voices.”
My frown deepened. “What?”
She nodded. “He started getting irate, thinking his brothers were trying to trick him by miming words, even though the staff could hear them answering him. They seemed as confused as he was. Then he started accosting the staff, demanding they speak to him, say anything to him. When they did, he would scream that they were trying to trick him too. He just couldn’t hear any of them. He would smash plates and glasses to prove he could still hear sounds. Then he began ordering musicians to the palace to play for him, but he would just scream that he couldn’t hear the singers. He kept doing it though—constantly ordering musicians and singers to perform for him, then flying into rages when he could only hear the music, not the singing.”
“That… makes no sense.”
“It’s more than that, though,” she continued eagerly. “It’s like the Carlin doesn’t exist to him anymore. He ignores her completely. My friend told me that when they still all ate dinner together, his eyes would slide right over her as if she wasn’t there. In the end, she began screaming at him too—screaming his true name to try and force him to listen to her.” Idony’s voice dropped to a whisper as she glanced around again. “All the palace staff now know his true name, but it doesn’t matter. It didn’t work. He can’t hear anyone. It’s driven him mad.”
My mind raced as I tried to figure out how that was possible. Bres could hear everything except voices? He acted like Mother didn’t exist, even when she used his true name?
Had someone cursed him? Or…
“The palace staff all think the mortal king did something to him,” Idony said. “That day when he was here.”
I frowned, trying desperately to remember that day. My mind had been so foggy, I’d barely been aware of what was playing out around me. Ash had told me about shooting Balor, and my mother with Gadleg’s venom, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about Bres. Had he done something to Bres? But how?
“What about the others?” I asked, still trying to make sense of it all.
