Page 8 of Manor of Wind and Nightmares (Fae of Brytwilde #3)

Then

J unseo jested with the driver and some of the other guards as we approached the carriage we were to share.

When he turned to me, offering me a gloved hand and a warm smile, I forced myself to take it, grinning shyly before hurriedly averting my eyes and settling myself on one of the cushioned seats.

He will see through your disguise in an instant if you don’t remember yourself, I thought scathingly.

A fae princess wouldn’t be bashful over the attention of a mere guard.

She would be used to the handsomeness of her own people, and she would be proud of her own beauty.

Hoping to hide how flustered I was, I busied myself with rearranging the skirts of my dress and folding my hands primly in my lap.

Thankfully, Junseo didn’t speak once he settled into the seat opposite me, instead gazing contemplatively out the window as the wheels creaked and the horses trotted forward.

He seemed sociable enough, but perhaps even he understood that princesses did not expect to make idle chat with their bodyguards.

I turned to stare out the opposite window, running through the things I’d been taught: the palace layout, as King Wystan’s spies had described it, the little they knew of the royal family and their daily habits, the best places to stab or cut someone when striking to kill, the surest methods to cut off someone’s air supply, the simplest points to hit when trying to land a death blow, and the names of the poisons I’d been given in a hidden compartment in one of my trunks.

Nightmoss, a paralytic. Heartsage, to quickly stop the organs minutes after ingestion.

Everleaf, a drug that could be administered in small doses over a longer period of time and mimic the slow death of a fatal curse, so all would be distracted with hunting for a powerful magical being rather than inspecting his food and drink.

And—perhaps the deadliest of all—demon’s breath.

It seemed I had a hundred and one ways to kill the prince. All that was left to do was marry him.

Leaning back against the seat, I tried to close my eyes and rest. It would be several days before we even reached the palace, so worrying about details now would be a waste of time.

I would have to save those for once I met the prince, confirmed with my own eyes that the palace layout as I’d memorized it was correct, and learned the schedule they expected Princess Briar to keep in the days leading up to the wedding.

After that, I could plan how to best accomplish my cursed mission.

“You are more reserved than I expected, from the stories I’ve heard about you.” Junseo’s smooth tone startled me from my reverie.

I cast a look at him, trying to sift through his words.

How should I react? With annoyance? Disgust?

His words weren’t formal, but he wasn’t being disrespectful either.

But what stories had he, Captain of the Guard, heard of Princess Briar?

And if he somehow already knew things about her, how was I to meet those unknown expectations?

I settled on cold arrogance. Glancing away from him like I couldn’t be bothered, I turned back to the window. “You are bolder than I expected, for a lowly bodyguard.”

Junseo laughed, but somehow, the sound wasn’t cheerful.

I had the distinct sense that he disliked me, that he disapproved of me for his prince.

My skin prickled. It was bad enough that I had to kill a powerful, immortal fae.

Worse still that I had to pass as a fae princess in order to do it.

But if I also had to contend with an angry bodyguard who didn’t want to see the marriage even happen, how would I succeed?

“In Willowbark, the Captain of the Royal Guard is a revered position. The royal family trusts me with their lives and readily seeks my advice. I am never considered lowly, nor am I received with condescension. I should hope, Your Highness, that even you and your father can see the wisdom in treating those who hold your life in their hands with respect.”

I studied him, taking in his confident expression and the casual manner in which he leaned back in his seat. He watched me unabashedly, likely taking in every tic of my jaw and blink of my eyes to read my intentions. The same way I was trying and failing to read his.

Swallowing, I worked to keep my voice level. “Are you threatening me?”

“I would never threaten someone I’ve been entrusted to keep alive.” He shrugged, and a lock of dark hair fell across his brow, adding to his carefree appearance. “I’m simply offering wisdom. Consider it a wedding gift.”

Rather than respond, I leaned into Princess Briar’s vanity and asked, “What have you heard about me?”

Junseo smirked. “I don’t think I should say. Either you’re hoping to feed your ego, or you’re wanting to fuel your anger at me.”

“Are they things your prince has heard about me?”

He crossed his arms. “Considering no members of either of our families have visited one another since my grandfather’s generation, it’s rather difficult to gather information about you. Whatever I know about you is the extent of Prince Kaede’s knowledge.”

The carriage bounced as we rolled over something—perhaps a hole in the road or a particularly large stone. I frowned and glanced out at the forest we were entering, thankful for the coolness the shade offered. The closeness of the carriage had begun to grow warm, even with the open windows.

“For the same reason, I know little of your prince as well,” I mused. “Maybe you can tell me about him?”

But Junseo scoffed. “Are you hoping for an unfair advantage?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Advantage? What do you think—”

Just then, one of the horses whinnied and the carriage jolted to a stop.

With a muffled gasp, I tumbled out of my seat and into Junseo’s lap, my face pressed against his chest. For a moment, I was too mortified to process what had happened, only conscious of the firmness of the muscles I was leaning against and the warmth emanating from his body. My heart thundered in my ears.

Junseo’s hands seized my waist, lifting me with ease and setting me down on my feet. He was already standing, though the carriage’s low ceiling forced him to hunch forward, his face still uncomfortably close to mine. “A little ungainly for a princess, don’t you think?”

My eyes widened as I stared at him, my horror at our closeness suddenly outstripped by my terror of being found out.

I could tell my cheeks were flaming. The fae weren’t clumsy—a jolting carriage wouldn’t shift them off balance so easily with their nimble reflexes—and they certainly weren’t modest or shy.

Not the ones I had heard about or knew, anyway, and certainly not Princess Briar.

I searched for an answer, desperate for some excuse that would be believable.

But Junseo didn’t waste any more time teasing me. He pressed a finger to his lips and shoved me gently yet firmly back into my seat, simultaneously drawing a blade from the sheath at his side. “Something is wrong,” he whispered. “Stay here.”

Before I could even think of a response, he had slipped silently from the carriage, shutting the door behind him.

My blood rushed in my ears as I tried to make myself as small as I could in my seat while peering around the curtain to see out the window.

I knew the fae world was deadly, full of creatures that relished bloodshed for the sake of violence or would just as soon feast on one another as trade greetings.

I’d been trained to defend myself, though mostly I’d been taught to kill.

I knew how to poison a prince, not fight off monsters and magical creatures.

Fingers trembling, I slipped my hand into the hidden pocket of my cloak, palming my dagger’s hilt.

Maniacal laughter outside sent shivers down my spine, and then the carriage rocked like it had been struck. Shouts and grunts from bodyguards outside made me unsheathe my dagger and clutch it in front of me as I crouched before the door. Something slammed against it repeatedly.

I caught my breath. Swing for the throat or eyes. King Wystan himself had taught me that. If you can’t manage a smaller mark, aim for the torso and strike the heart or lungs.

The sound of splitting wood assaulted my ears as the door crumpled inward.

I ducked to avoid the debris sailing through the air and the swinging axe blade that followed it.

When I lifted my head, dagger at the ready, a stocky goblin with a twisting, wart-covered nose glared at me with beady black eyes.

When it swung its axe a second time, I rolled, tucking my blade close to my chest. More wood splintered as the floorboards split and shuddered.

For a second, the goblin’s blade caught in the wood, giving me the opening I needed to spring out of the carriage. I tumbled past my attacker and onto the dirt road, pebbles biting into my palms. I was on my feet again before the goblin freed its blade and turned to me, swinging again.

Ears ringing, I stepped aside, moving like I had in countless training sessions before when I’d been forced to dodge and parry attacks in case I had to fight against the prince.

Blocking out my horror and disgust, I focused on the mechanics of what I had to do.

It was kill or be killed. I moved on instinct, shoving the dagger for the goblin’s throat.

The squelch of flesh and spray of blood jolted me from my practiced motions.

As the goblin’s glassy eyes met mine, its axe clattering to the ground, I staggered away from its collapsing body. Nausea coiled up my throat and my stomach heaved as I stumbled to the roadside and was sick.

More goblins were crying out, locked in fights with Junseo’s guards, but all I saw was the blood slicking my hands and dagger. It didn’t matter that the awful creature had wanted to kill me. I’d just taken a life.

I’d have to take another soon.