Page 19
Story: A Cage of Magic and Darkness
RUAROK
I remain hidden beneath the cloak, tucked away in the dark folds. The material is rough and scratchy around my face, and it smells faintly of mothballs after going unworn for so long.
Is this my future now, to stay hidden away, the castle’s dirty little secret? That isn’t what I’ve survived the last ten years to do.
It isn’t going to be as easy as ridding myself of the princess, however.
There’re the people to think about, too.
They’ve had the last ten years to grow to love her—and how could they not?
From the short time I’ve spent with her, it’s clear she’s royalty material.
Everything about her screams she should be on the throne.
It’s not only that she’s full-blooded Fae, unlike me; it’s the way she holds herself. She expects people to do as she says.
She commands respect, and people give her that respect because they love and admire her—not because they are fearful of what she might make them do .
I admire that about her, but I also know it’s something I’m going to have to break.
My reputation is the exact opposite of hers. While she’s seen as good and pure and honest, I’m tainted and evil—a trickster. The people of Askos believe me to have been banished, and I daren’t even think what kind of rumors will have trickled through the lands at the reason for my banishment.
The truth is bad enough.
In the ten years I’ve been gone, the city doesn’t appear to have changed—not including the massive fucking hole where part of the city used to stand.
From this position, I’m able to turn and look back at the castle.
The space where the King’s Tower used to stand feels unreal.
If someone had told me it had been hidden with masking magic, I’d probably have been more likely to believe them than if they’d told me it had collapsed.
That tower had stood for more than a thousand years.
That it could be gone in a matter of minutes is terrifying.
If it was so easy for the tower to disintegrate to nothing, then why not the rest of the castle, taking us with it?
Sometimes I wonder what all this is for. Why do we fight so hard for a future when all we really have is the here and now? So many people deprive themselves of today’s pleasures, believing it will benefit some imagined future that may not ever arrive.
“Ruarok? Prince Ruarok?”
The feminine voice catches my attention.
A young, beautiful woman emerges from the crowds of people lining the street.
Her features have the pointed nose and ears and big eyes that suggest she has pixie blood in her somewhere.
Not only that, I recognize her, too. She’s older now, but she’s one of the whores I used to visit before I was locked away.
“Is it you?” she says. “Is it really you?”
She’s clearly recognized me, and it’s not as though I can deny it. I shoot a glance over at Taelyn to see if she has noticed. She has and is glaring at me to stay quiet.
I pull the cloak farther over my head and keep walking. But my name has been picked up by others around her, and I hear the question rumbling through the crowd like distant thunder.
“I told you to stay hidden,” Taelyn snaps.
“I’m trying to, but they’re going to find out eventually,” I reply.
“Not now. There’s too much else going on. I can’t have this kind of unrest among the people.”
I almost laugh at that. “Part of their city has just fallen into the ground. I hardly think learning their prince has returned is going to be what upsets them. Maybe they could use a little good news.”
She spins on her heel. “You believe them hearing of your return will be good news?”
That annoying head of her guard steps in. “Is everything okay, Princess Taelyn?”
“Yes, thank you, Balthorne. I can handle this.”
She places her hand on his muscular forearm, and it’s my turn to glare. She shouldn’t be touching him. He’s mere staff.
“Just say the word if you need anything,” he replies, and moves away to push back a member of the crowd who is getting too close.
This Balthorne is the epitome of how a Fae male should look—tall, muscular, white-blond hair, and pale blue eyes. He even has wings, and I’m surprised he’s not considered gentry rather than one of the princess’s guards.
I say as much to Taelyn.
“He is gentry,” she replies. “He just gave up his position to protect me.”
I’m shocked anyone would do such a thing.
To take a role of servitude over owning lands.
But then I remember the lands they hailed from are no more.
Perhaps it was better to take a role in the princess’s guard than end up with nothing.
He might be acting as though he’s altruistic, but no one is, completely.
There’s always something in it for the other person.
I bet Balthorne has been thinking about getting into Taelyn’s panties this entire time.
Rage at the thought of him even fantasizing about touching her boils through me. I know Taelyn would never allow it to happen—she’s a princess and is better than that—but I still hate the thought.
I grind my teeth at the unfairness of genetics.
If I’d been born with the appearance of my father’s Fae side, my life would have been so much easier.
I hate how my dark hair and eyes make me stand out among these perfect Fae, and then, of course, there’s my lack of wings.
Though the Fae are unable to do much more than lift a few feet off the ground these days, as their bodies have grown too large, and their wings have weakened over the generations, it’s still something else that sets me apart.
That makes me inferior. I hate that they’d look down on me.
Would these people ever accept someone who looks like me on the throne?
The guards hustle us through the streets, holding back the crowds. I’ve been seen, however, and word of my return will spread quickly through the city. They’re going to ask if the reason for my return is to take the throne now the king is dead.
I don’t understand why Taelyn hasn’t realized this yet, but she will soon enough.
Table of Contents
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