Page 48 of A Cursed Son

That’s a relief to hear.

Nelsin shrugs, his cat ears moving backwards a little. “They’re still beautiful.”

“Alliance for what?” I ask, wondering what Marlak told them.

They look at each other, then Ferer says, “Ask your prince.”

“Oh, yes, he’s so helpful and talkative.”

Nelsin laughs, while Ferer watches me.

When people stare at me like that, I always wonder what they’re trying to see. A part of me always fears that they know, that they sense who I am, that they can see through my deception. I have to hope that’s not the case, and perhaps keep hoping. Or maybe he wants to know what’s between me and Marlak. I do wonder what the prince told them, what they make of this.

I’m not sure what people in the Krastel court would say if Aramel or his brother one day came in with a foreign guard for a wife.

They’d probably assassinate her. The realization stuns me.

I stare at the fae knights, wondering if they think of me as a nuisance, wondering if they’d murder me. Then again, they obey Marlak, and that’s different from the situation in Krastel, where a king can overrule a prince. Also, since they’re fae, their words are binding, and at least in theory, true.

Regardless, I should never lower my guard.

I spend the afternoon training under the shade of trees. Nelsin and Ferer drill me on what I already know, like basic self-defense moves. Later, when they suggest sword fighting, I tell them I’m only used to fighting with a dagger, and they’re curious to see how it works, so we improvise sticks.

The tricky thing with fae is that they’re so much faster than us. In a way, it’s good to see that, to know what I would be up against if I had to fight one of them. As I dodge one of Nelsin’s moves, he stops.

“This is hardly fair. What’s the point of using a dagger against a sword?”

“I could have to pretend to be Princess Driziely or a noble. Women don’t carry swords.”

He’s grimacing as if he’d sucked a lemon. “But what’s the point? You got no chance.”

“You’re too fast. But against a normal enemy, I could dodge, hurt them, and escape.”

“Fast?” He widens his eyes, and his top ears perk up. “Here I am, going slow.”

Ferer is sitting, watching us. “You’ll need all the advantage you can, my lady. Sword fighting might be a good idea.”

I sit on a thick fallen branch.

“He’s right,” a deep voice says behind me. Marlak’s walking toward us.

Did I feel my heart flutter? No, it was just startled. Perhaps the prince makes me nervous.

I turn to him. “You think I should walk around with a sword?”

“You’re my wife. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending.”

He tilts his head. “It looks like a large part of your training was about hiding the fact that you’re a competent fighter, so that you look like a helpless damsel. I can see the wisdom in that, and how it can be useful, but now… If people want to hurt you, pretending to be weak won’t stop them, it will just encourage them.”

“How do you know about my training?”

He snaps a finger. “Magic, wife.”

The rest of the afternoon is calm enough. Nelsin and Ferer leave for some time, and return with two nice dressing tables. The three of them, including the prince, prepare a salad with some cold meat, and we have dinner. I’m wondering when they’ll give me some decent, hot food, but prefer not to ask.

Later, I play cards with Ferer, while trying to overhear what Marlak says to Nelsin outside. Overall, this is far from terrible, but I must remember not to get too comfortable, not to open up too much. After all, if I want to be loyal to my kingdom, I’ll have to betray Marlak—if I ever manage to gain his trust to begin with.