Claiming the Prince: Book One (40 page)

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything. I wish I could change things for you. I wish I could send you back in time, back to your forest with your nymph, when life was simple and happy. I wish I could go back to California and be content on the beach, reading trashy novels and painting my nails. But we can’t—”

“Are you sure?”

“What?”

He moved closer to her. “We could go. To the human world, both of us.”

She stared at him for a long moment, speechless.

“I know you think you have a duty to the Lands,” he said, “to the small folk and Ouda, to me and Honey, to Damion and your family, but you don’t. Not really. It’s not fair, Magda. It’s not right for all of them to demand you to sacrifice yourself for what they want.”

“I thought you agreed with the Resistance, with Python and—”

“I do,” he said. “But—” He ran his hand over his face, shaking his head as if he didn’t even understand what he was saying or why.

“And what about Honey? You know nymphs can’t leave the Lands. They’ve tried. They’ve died.”

“She would be safer if she stopped following us. If she went home.”

She found it hard to breathe. The air grew too thick and warm. His words—the same words she’d spoken to Endreas only a week before—left her dumbfounded.

To go back to California, away from all of this . . . But why was he suggesting this to her now? Did he feel guilty about giving her a piece of his heart? As if he owed it to her to protect their lives so that she wouldn’t go mad if he died? Was he afraid? Had he finally realized how difficult it would be to defend himself, let alone start a war against the King?

She was deeply tempted to accept and leave all of this behind for good. But she just . . . couldn’t. Even when she’d asked Endreas before, she’d known she wouldn’t really be able to go through with it. The Rae part of her was still too strong. Besides, others were counting on her . . . Ouda, Tamia, Hero.

“I don’t really believe you want to go into exile,” she said finally. “I think you want to stay.”

“We’re not talking about what I want,” he said.

“I thought you wanted to get away from me,” she said in a challenging tone, disturbed by how enticed she was by his offer—even though she knew she couldn’t accept. Some distant voice, that woman she’d been in exile, was still begging to leave the Lands and all its troubles behind. “Why would you want to go into exile with me?”

“I don’t really want to get away from you, Magda. I think . . . I
should
want to. Sometimes I feel like I need to, but that’s not what I want.”

“Then—”

“If we’re staying,” he cut in strongly, “then we’re staying. And we’re doing this together, right?”

“Right,” she said.

“Then you have to be honest.”

“I have been—” She bit her cheek, catching the lie. “All right. But honesty isn’t exactly in our nature, and it’s not always what it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes it’s better to lie than to start a war.”

“But our lives are in too much danger right now. I need to know I can depend on you. That I can trust you.”

“You mean you need something to hold onto.”

He hung his head. “Magda—”

“And I’m here,” she said. “Just like I was before, right?”

He nodded, grim-faced.

She folded her arms as the pressure continued to build. “So ask.”

“I don’t need to—”

“I didn’t sleep with him. Do I want to? Yes. Will I? Not if I can help it.”

His voice was low. “Can you help it?”

“I’ve managed to resist more than one Elf lately,” she said archly. “I think I can handle myself.”

His face darkened as he blushed. “Magda, that wasn’t me—” He grimaced. “I mean, that’s not how I wanted . . .” He pulled in his lips.

“You don’t need to explain. Eris’s magic gave you the power to change form at will. Getting you to put your hands down my pants probably took as much effort on Eris’s part as it does for Gur to take a nap.”

Gur grumbled, but didn’t stir.

Kaelan eyes widened as though he’d been slapped.

She laughed. “You know what you are? A romantic. You think every time you touch a girl it’s Romeo and Juliet?”

“Romeo and—?”

“Never mind, it’s not important. The point is you don’t have to gut yourself every time you feel a little pleasure or a little guilt. Eris pulled a dirty trick. It felt good, but it wasn’t really us. We both know that. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to make more of it than that. And just because I’m attracted to Endreas doesn’t mean that I’m going to do something stupid. Not unless there’s a conniving witch around. We have more important things to worry about. Our lives. The lives of our friends. The Lands themselves. Let’s just stay focused on those things and put the rest aside for now. We have too many distractions as it is.”

He gazed down at her for a long moment.

And it seemed, for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. Her chest ached slightly as if the hollowness, which she’d thought gone, had returned briefly.

“All right,” he said, taking a step back. “You’re right . . . I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

He retreated to the other side of the cave without another word.

She frowned after him, attempting to articulate a question that hadn’t yet formed in her mind. As she laid down, she tried to put the unsettled feeling aside, but it lodged in her head like a seed between her teeth, irritating and unmoving, no matter how much she picked and prodded at it.

She drifted off to sleep watching Kaelan’s chest rise and fall, wondering if she had made a mistake. Maybe it would have been better to go back to California, with him. And maybe she was lying to herself. Maybe the reason she wasn’t leaving had less to do with her duty and more to do with a Prince named Endreas.

T
HEY LEFT BEFORE SUNRISE,
saying little.

As much as she’d hoped the tension would be relieved, it wasn’t. Making matters worse, Kaelan seemed to have acquired a mastery of stoicism overnight. He emoted nothing, and once he changed back into Damion’s form, even his face was impossible to read.

The journey to Flor’s home didn’t take long. The forests and glens, hills and streams were all familiar to Magda. This was her land. The places she’d tromped a thousand times growing up. Yet, looking down upon it, she struggled to revive the proprietary pride she’d once possessed. As a child, her love for these places had been fierce. Now, it was just a place, like any other.

When they landed in the meadow, flush with flowers—tiny purple puffs of fairy drops; long, red imps’ tongue; broad white lace-crowns—Flor strode towards them ahead of Honey and Damion.

Kaelan, still looking like Damion, dismounted first, and held out his hand for Magda. She took it and slid down. Hero dropped from her shoulder at once and scampered off into the meadow, out of sight.

In the years since Magda had last seen Flor, her black hair had gone gray, left wild and loose around her shoulders. Her skin and her lips had taken on a cool violet hue. Yet her gait remained strong, her figure statuesque. Her clothes, though a bit ragged, were the fitted garb of a warrior.

Flor stalked right up to Kaelan and looked him up and down. “Yes. You do look like Damion. But let’s see your true face now.”

Gur slunk away as if not wanting to be noticed.

“Flor, it’s good to—” Magda started.

Flor waved Magda off as if they’d seen each other just yesterday.

She spoke to Kaelan. “Show me this power the witch gave you.”

Kaelan looked to Magda.

She lifted a shoulder.

“Oh, good,” Flor said as she stepped back, bunching her arms over her ample bosom. “You know to defer to your Rae. That’s something at least. That one made it sound as if you knew nothing.” She cocked her thumb back at Damion who stood by, looking exasperated. Honey merely watched with those pale haunted eyes, as if only half seeing them.

“Well?” Flor persisted.

“Do it,” Magda said.

The air around Kaelan rippled. And then he was himself again.

The tension in Magda’s chest eased slightly and then constricted tighter than ever. She was getting annoyed. He had infected her with this idea that they needed to talk about everything. Now she felt as though, in spite of everything they’d discussed the day before, they hadn’t talked at all.

Flor gave her nose a quick brush between her thumb and forefinger, like she felt a hair or a cobweb drifting across the end of it. Magda smiled. Cae had had the same tick. She’d forgotten about it.

Flor’s silvery eyes skated up Kaelan and down again. “I see you know who’s in charge,” she said. “But are you loyal?”

“Flor—” Magda had also forgotten how it was with a Pixie matriarch. Everyone said that Flor had gone mad with grief, shutting herself away in the cottage on the meadow, but she seemed as astute and commanding as ever.

“You be silent,” Flor said, shooting her an arrow-sharp glance. “You’re not Radiant yet, girl.” Her gaze fixed on Kaelan again. “Well?”

“Am I loyal to what?” he asked.

“To whom, and by that, I mean her. Your Rae.”

Before he could answer, Flor turned back to Magda. “I don’t like not being told why his true identity must be obscured.”

“Because he’s being hunted,” Magda said.

“By whom?”

“The King,” Magda said.

Flor’s eyebrows rose. “Whatever for?”

“A prophecy,” Magda said. “The King fears him. An oracle foretold Kaelan would make the King bow.”

Flor’s eyes honed in on Magda’s face with dagger-sharp acuity, as though she could pierce straight into Magda’s thoughts.

“I see.” Flor’s cheeks drew in, and then her gaze zipped down and over Magda. “That armor used to be your mother’s.”

“Yes.”

“It needs to be cleaned and repaired,” she said. “Come along.” She spared Kaelan one last critical look before she turned and led the way back to the two-story manse of gray stone, nestled under a blooming white stardust tree.

“Why did you tell her about the prophecy?” Kaelan asked, drawing near to Magda as they followed.

The warm of his breath on her neck brought back the memories of when he’d touched her at Eris’s. For some reason, those few moments had been resurfacing in her mind all day. She shoved them aside.

“Because we need to tell her as much of the truth as we can if we want to enlist her help.”

“Sorry about that,” Damion said, falling into step on her other side. “You’re never going to believe what’s been happening. Where’d you get that armor? What’s that?” He pointed to the saddlebags hanging on her shoulder.

“My inheritance,” she said, shrugging it off her shoulder, into the crook of her arm, and then handing it off to him. He slowed a step as the weight of the treasure fell into his hands.

A grin spread across his face.

Behind them, Honey drifted like a ghost.

“How is she?” Magda murmured to Damion.

“Oh, she’s just fine,” he said. “You know, grows flowers, hums her little songs, talks to the dead.”

Magda and Kaelan stopped as one.

“She does what?” Magda asked.

Honey caught up with them. “I’ve been talking to Caden,” she said matter-of-factly. “He misses you very much, Magda. He says he always knew you would grow up to be beautiful, but you have proven his imagination dull and witless by outshining even the great river of stars. He gives his consent for Kaelan to take up his former life. Though he makes some very unpleasant remarks about Elves . . .”—Honey leaned in—“I think he’s a bit jealous. And he says, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you myself, puppy.’”

Honey gave her a small smile and then drifted towards the cottage. Magda stared after her.

“What are you all standing around for? Let’s move!” Flor called from her front door.

Damion hefted the saddlebags over his shoulder. “Honey’s been doing that since we got here. But she’s managed to convince Flor to help us. Or . . . Caden did. When we arrived, Flor was as bad as we always heard. But after spending most of the night talking to Honey and Caden . . . The old Flor is back, for better or worse.”

Damion tromped off.

Kaelan placed his hand lightly on Magda’s waist, leaning in. “Are you all right?”

Her chest struggled against the tension knotting around it. “I don’t know what to think.”

“You think she’s lying?” he asked, giving her a small nudge to start her walking again.

“Why would she?”

Kaelan gazed after Honey, eyes growing darker. “She’s not who she used to be. I don’t feel like I know her anymore.”

“She said the ghouls had done something to her.”

“Enabled her to talk to the dead?” Kaelan asked dubiously. “I’ve never heard of that.”

“Neither have I,” she conceded. “But I’ve also never met someone whose soul was damaged by an empusa and attacked by ghouls.”

He made an indistinct noise in his throat.

“Regardless,” she said, shaking the eerie feeling Honey had left her with, “it appears to have worked in our favor.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s a first.”

She smiled. Hero returned from his exploration, dashing up her armor, taking position on her shoulder. He rubbed up against her neck, and she scratched his head.