Page 30 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

Lenore

T he dungeons aren’t the only way to keep a prisoner secured within a castle. I am just that. A prisoner in my own home.

The King of Honenbrie is dead. Murdered.

Paranoia has run rampant through these grey-stoned walls since the death of the king.

I’ve been under such close watch that I barely get a moment to relieve myself without a guard staring me down.

At this point I’m shocked they haven’t offered to hold my dress while I pee.

I drop back on the bed, an exasperated sigh filling the green and gold damask room.

The sun will begin setting soon. Another day spent locked away.

A slight tapping against the glass draws my eye to the window.

One of my birds is there, a goldfinch named Arrow.

The poor little thing broke his neck flying into one of the greenhouse windows.

I was taking tea inside when it happened and rushed out to resurrect him.

He’s come to visit me in the gardens nearly every day since.

I miss the gardens, the outdoors. My current guard detail watches me like a hawk. Their hovering doesn’t allow for any frolicking through the meadows or quiet chatting with my animals. Arrow must have missed me. He’s a smart little bird to seek me out here.

Rolling off the bed, I hurry to the window.

He releases an excited chirp when I open it wide enough to allow him in.

A slew of other birds I hadn’t noticed enters my room.

The flock of feathered friends is a bit overwhelming at first. Birds of all sizes dart around, seeking their own private perches.

“You’re welcome to visit for as long as you like, but any messes on the floor and you’ll be in big trouble.”

The clumsiest of my flying friends, Acorn, an undersized spotted woodpecker, latches on to one of the bedposts. He cocks his head side to side, revealing the bright red feathers on his crown.

“And no pecking the furniture!” I quickly add.

I’ve always enjoyed the company of animals over humans. There’s something about animals. When you speak to them, you feel heard and understood.

“Ye didn’t!” Melly shrieks. “How many times?”

My horrified handmaiden is still standing in the open doorway. “Close that, quickly. They’re my guests. It’s my room.”

“Animals don’t belong in a royal room.”

“I don’t belong here. I’m suffocating!” Burying my face in my hands, I allow myself a moment of despair.

“I know this ’as been ’ard.” Melly’s tone is pitying. She moves closer, eyes darting around. She isn’t a fan of birds.

“No. You don’t. We live in the same house but our lives couldn’t be more different.”

“Aye. That’s true.” Her sigh triggers a swarm of guilt in my gut.

“I’m sorry. I’m not meant to be cooped up.” My fingers stroke the soft head of a small red and brown wren that’s landed on my shoulder.

“I’ll make ye a deal. Ye get this messy swarm of birds out of the castle, and I’ll cover for you while you sneak off and do whatever it is you do out there.”

“You will?” The birds nearest to me startle as I jump to my feet.

“Be back before nightfall and don’t ye dare break any bones climbing out of that window.” She shakes her head.

Diving into her arms, I squeeze her tightly. “Thank you, thank you!”

There’s a soft knock on the door. My excitement dips.

“Go. I’ll tell them yer royal ’ighness ’as a bad case of melancholy.”

“Surely you can come up with a better excuse. They might try to heal me by dragging my ass to a royal function if you tell them that.”

“A bad case of diarrhea then? They’ll not risk touching yer royal arse if that’s the case.”

“That sounds mortifying but perfect.”

The birds follow suit as I climb from the window. The vines that run along the wall outside my room have always been thick enough to hold my weight. No one sees me as I descend, lowering myself until I land behind a wall of rose bushes.

I only have an hour before it’s dark. Not wasting any time, I hurry to my secret garden. A feeling of comfort washes over me at the sight of my many bones. “I missed you.”

The bones are silent, but some part of me feels they can understand me. I like to believe they are grateful to rest in peace somewhere so beautiful. Most importantly, somewhere they’re not alone.

A row of white camellia bushes has burst into bloom in my absence.

Their fragrant flowers fill the walls of my refuge with such a sweet perfume.

The last of the day’s sun gleams off my bones.

My heart feels at peace in this place. The strangeness of enjoying the company of animal skeletons over living people does not escape me.

Is it the death I’m attracted to, or just the quiet?

Maybe a bit of both. It’s probably the same reason I’m so attracted to Harrow.

My nerves awaken. I haven’t seen him since the chase in the labyrinth.

We never got a chance to talk about things.

Not that I would know what to say. Probably something along the lines of “Remember that time you turned into a monster and touched me with shadows and a super long tongue and made my body shake in ways no one ever has?” Something tells me even if the opportunity arose, I’d be too embarrassed to bring it up.

Not too embarrassed to enjoy the same experience again.

The flutter that comes to life between my thighs when I think about that encounter makes my lower stomach tighten. I’m desperate to be touched like that again.

Finding a soft spot beneath a white weeping cherry tree, I adopt an elegant pose. Harrow will show up any moment.

The minutes pass in silence. My living animals do not come here. When I visit this place, it is always quiet. I listen for the flap of wings. The soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze is all I can hear.

My heart sinks a little with every dimming ray of sun. The night creeps in. Harrow never shows.

Disappointment eats away at the joy I felt from leaving my room. I was so sure he would come.

As promised, I return before it’s fully dark. Melly gives me a tight hug. She offers me a tray of dinner. I frown at the half-eaten contents.

“It was going cold. What did ye expect?”

“Nothing less from you,” I tease.

“Do ye feel better?” Her eyes are bright with hope.

I paste on a smile. She doesn’t believe my stories about Harrow. My disappointment won’t make sense. “Much better. Thank you.”

Her grin is far brighter than mine.

Melly excuses herself to finish her evening duties. Once she’s gone, the silence of my solitude creeps in again.

Twirling a feather between my fingers, I think of Harrow. Does he fly? I’ve never seen it, but he has wings. They’re too large to be for decoration only. Flying is the only explanation for how he vanishes so quickly. It also explains how he whisked me back to the center of the maze so fast.

What if I jumped from the window. Would I sprout wings? Maybe I’d be granted wings in the afterlife. Is that where I’d find Harrow? Would I recognize him? Maybe his fascination with me would dry up after my death. I’d be just another body amongst dead things.

I’m yanked from my morbid daydreams by the sound of a familiar voice outside my door. “I’ve been given permission from the king to take the night watch.”

“It’s alright. He speaks the truth,” Gestin agrees.

Rolling from my bed in a very unladylike manner that sends my feet over my head, I pad to the doorway, stopping to drag a hand through my unkempt hair and pinch my cheeks.

Pulling the door wide, I find a very serious-looking Cassius on the other side. He turns, gaze locking on mine, and the stoicism in his face vanishes. “Good evening, Princess.”

Cassius is dressed in another of his brilliantly crafted royal garbs.

The fabrics are a deep burnt orange and rich cherry red that complement his coppery skin and hair.

He looks like autumn, wrapped up in human form.

Those same beautiful, fiery jewels hang across his chest. I hadn’t realized before just how similar his eyes are to those brilliant gems.

“Good evening to you. What’s going on?”

“Prince Cassius has volunteered to watch over you until morning.” Gestin’s salt-and-pepper brows furrow. I get the feeling he’s not thrilled with the arrangement.

“That’s very kind of you. And unnecessary.” A prince lowering himself to guard duties? It’s practically unheard of.

“On the contrary”—Cassius’s smile drops—“someone killed King Hoff and could have easily taken your life in the same moment. Until we have a better idea of who committed this heinous act and have locked them away in the dungeons, caution is key. Your safety is top priority.”

“I’m fine here.”

“He’s right, Princess,” Gestin adds. “There’s a good chance that toast was meant to kill the both of you. It’s by sheer luck and your endless stubbornness that you didn’t drink from your chalice.”

“It would also save me from attending the evening festivities,” Cassius admits. “I could use a break from being paraded like a prized pony.” He shakes his head.

“Well, I suppose if it won’t interfere too much with your social agenda, I’ll allow it.” I give him a light smile. It’s not up to me, of course. “Though I hear the other mothers have been in a frenzy trying to get their daughters an audience with the handsome foreign prince .”

Cassius’s broad shoulders sag. “They’ve been relentless. You would be doing me a great favor by allowing me to hide up here all evening.”

A giggle slips free. “Done. I, too, prefer hiding from prying eyes. I’ll be in here if you need me. Enjoy your quiet evening.” I nod to them both before closing my door.

Giddiness zaps through my blood. Cassius is outside my bedroom door. From the looks of it, he’s alone. There are guards at the ends of the hallways, but the only person close enough to hear, or touch, is him.

I’m not sure what to do with this information, but I can’t seem to hide the grin that’s spreading across my cheeks.