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The fae man dropped him in a manner Leo became happy to repeat.
The cat’s mind might be fractured, his memories lost, but he was running back to where he had a semblance of home, determined that any man who tried to hold him and claimed to be his master would feel the sting of his claws.
* * *
They say cats have nine lives, and Leo was certain he had lost one more. That dog had been humongous and likely riddled with the plague. Leo had no business charging into its jaws, and any true cat would have known better.
But Leo knew who he was, even if no one else did. He knew who Ainsley was too.
He would always risk his life for her, the kingdom, and even the cursed miller’s son.
That’s what princes were supposed to do—no matter what state they found themselves in afterward. And right now, Leo was in a whole lot of pain, the sensation stabbing his ribs anew every time he took a breath.
Sleep wasn’t an escape. That was when he heard the voice again, the last of his memories clicking into place. “Kill the rats, my little prince. Kill every one you see. And when you have gotten to the root of your kingdom’s curse, you will return to me in triumph. And then . . . I will reward you.”
Then came the words, perhaps unspoken but still undeniable. “I will own you.”
Locked in dreams and agony, Leo twisted in another spasm. Then Tabitha was there with a few light touches and soft words. She had stayed up with him as the night wore on, though she claimed it was hardly a sacrifice. “I’ve heard tales that when we dream, our spirits visit the faerie realm. Though, if that is true, then the faerie realm hasn’t been a kind place for you. Sometimes, it isn’t a kind place for me either.”
Why should the faerie realm be kind to him? The fae weren’t kind. His memories weren’t kind. But something of their magic had to be at work to fight off the plague and heal the rest of his body because much of the pain and delirium faded by daybreak.
He was lying on a ruffly pillow in the familiar store loft.
Far too many ruffles. Leo swatted at them even before he was truly awake.
Tabitha turned from her work and smiled down at him. “There is our hero. Selflessly saving us all from rats, hounds, and bad fashion.”
Leo squinted at the manikin behind her. No one could call what Tabitha was stitching now “bad fashion,” no matter what it had been only days before. She might not be fae, but she still had that sort of creative gift, even using a few remaining ruffles to their best advantage.
She could make anything better than it had any business being.
She came and rubbed her hand against his whiskered face. “I’m glad you’re awake. And healing better than I hoped. You are truly the most peculiar cat I have ever met. Though if you scare me like that again . . .” She shook her head. “I won’t say anything against your huntsman friend or our princess, but you don’t always have to be the hero. You know that, right? You helped so many people in this town, and some of us would like to be able to help you too.”
Help him . . . Help him with what?
Leo was a prince trapped by a faerie curse, but Tabitha couldn’t know that, and he couldn’t tell her. Even if he tried to spell out the words, she wouldn’t have been able to read it.
But as he watched her now, he felt a strange sense of unease. Tabitha once said she hoped he would find a family equal to him in every way, but Prince Leopold never would have noticed a half-mute and illiterate shopgirl. All his associates outside of his own small family were simple servants or sycophants, and he never thought he needed anything different.
And Prince Leopold was a fool. Tom knew better, and now Leo did too.
During the plague, some people rose to the challenge and became nearer to the sainted heroes and holy oracles blessed by the Light of the Fates. Others grew closer to beastly devils from the pits of darkness. And many of both types could reside in the same house.
Tabitha was a saint.
Her mother was a devil.
And while Leo couldn’t picture Tabitha ever carrying a sword or bow or any weapon greater than a needle, he had seen the evidence of her courage. When she had given him that first plate of food, she still lived in the shadowed corners of her house of origin, and he was there the day she found the strength to leave. Carrying Leo like a talisman, she had faced down several hard-faced strangers until she found her current situation as a shopkeeper.
She lived at the shop and never went home with the shop-owners for propriety’s sake, but there were still some tongues that were looser than they should have been. A woman living alone was a curiosity. And Leo had gone to the shop more than once, just to check on her.
Like he could fight a bandit or at least be her talisman again.
As a prince, Leo often felt he was responsible for the fates and happiness of the entire kingdom, but Tabitha didn’t really need him like that. If something changed at the dress shop, she would find another situation for herself just as she did last time. But as she petted and cared for him now, he couldn’t deny a growing part of him longed to be a man again, just so he could walk more steadily beside her.
Just a man. Not a prince. He had never wanted to be Tabitha’s pet, but he didn’t want to be her master either. More than his equal, she was strong in every way he was weak.
Like they could only be whole if they were together.
