Page 44 of My Princeling Brat (Tales from the Tarot #2)

Prince Cedrych

Iawoke disoriented with a throbbing headache and a parched throat.

There was a crust of drool on my chin on account of the metal bit, which prevented me from closing my mouth or swallowing properly.

My wings were trapped in some sort of metal mesh, but my ankles and wrists were no longer shackled, so I immediately ripped the bag off my head and set to removing the bit from my mouth.

I couldn’t. It was secured on the outside by bars that encircled the lower half of my jaw and some locking mechanism that likely had no key.

A custom piece made with signature metal, which meant the only person who could remove it was the damnable brute who’d kidnapped me. A metal sorcerer, no doubt. Were they also the one who’d kidnapped Galen and attempted to turn him into an assassin?

Falling back on my soldier’s training, I set aside my discomforts and assessed my surroundings.

Lit by pockets of eternal flame, the rock walls outside my barred enclosure had no windows to the outside.

The air was sweet, but in a weirdly chemical way.

I must be somewhere underground or perhaps inside a cave, and I wasn’t the only one being kept prisoner here.

Across the spacious cavern was another large metal enclosure with a floor of hard-packed earth and hay scattered about.

Inside of it was a beautiful piebald mare.

She appeared agitated, nosing the bars of her enclosure and stomping her hooves.

How long had she been down here? Why keep a horse as a prisoner?

“They have her,” I muttered, repeating the words Galen had said to me. Was this horse the “her” he’d been referring to? Were these thugs so low as to steal a boy’s horse?

The two are bonded for life, Vasil had told me about the connection between rider and steed. No wonder Galen had been so reluctant to talk. They must have threatened the life of his horse. I could now add animal cruelty to the scoundrel’s list of crimes.

My gaze shifted from the mare to another peculiar sight–a working forge in the far corner of the cavern.

The rhythmic sounds of a hammer striking steel echoed off the rock walls, and the man toiling appeared to be none other than Levolor, the same bladesmith who’d made my dagger.

Was he working for the enemy? I squinted and saw that Levolor’s ankle bore a metal cuff similar to my own.

The man was chained to the anvil itself, which allowed him to move within his workspace but not much farther.

So, this band of criminals not only trafficked in fae, but they’d kidnapped a bladesmith, presumably to forge weapons, which meant they were intent on some sort of uprising. They’d taken me as part of some larger conspiracy against Lord Vasil, and I was now an unwilling participant in their scheme.

Damn it all.

My own enclosure consisted of a bedroll, a metal bucket, and a large jug of water.

I attempted to soothe my aching throat with the water, but most of it dribbled out the side due to that damnable bit.

I’d have to escape. There was no way I’d sit here as a lure to entrap my lord.

Based on the measures they’d taken already, they meant to kill Lord Vasil and perhaps me as well.

I wasn’t much use to them once the trap had been sprung.

I toured the perimeter of my cell, inspecting the bars for any weaknesses. There were none. I attempted to call out to Levolor but his back was turned and my muffled voice couldn’t compete with the clanging of metal.

Think, Cedrych.

My mother was here in the elvish territories. We may not get along but she would go to great lengths to protect what was hers. A crime against the royal family was an invitation to war. Unless she was somehow behind this?

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

A figure appeared from the shadows, wearing a long cloak in elvish blue and a gold mask in the shape of a bird’s beak that covered the upper half of his face. I recognized his voice, the same sorcerer who’d kidnapped me from Vasil’s bedchamber.

“What do you want?” I demanded, but my language was unintelligible.

The man twisted his wrist and the bit loosened.

I hastily removed the dastardly contraption and threw it across the cell where it clanged against the metal bars and fell to the floor.

The horse lifted her head and whinnied while Levolor temporarily paused his banging to glance over.

“As you were,” the masked man said to him. Levolor turned away from us, and the hammering resumed.

“Who are you?” I asked the man.

“I am a Keeper of the Light,” he said with a smile that told me he was proud of that title.

“Their leader?” I asked.

“Humbly appointed and honored to serve,” he said with a mocking bow.

“You’re honored to be the head of a terrorist group who thinks being blinded by a light through a prism makes your blood impure?” I scoffed.

“The Keepers are an ancient society, traditional in their customs and beliefs, but we all share a common goal.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“Preserving the elvish bloodline.”

“This is because Lord Vasil is half-vampyre?” I asked, astounded by their ignorance.

“It’s an abomination. Our proud legacy mustn’t be tainted by the blood of the vampyre. Nor that of the fae,” he added pointedly.

“Isn’t this notion of elvish supremacy a little stale?” I asked.

“Look at your own people, Your Highness. The War of the Realms was based on the notion that fae were superior to humans.”

How dare he use that conflict as justification. “Humankind was destroying our food sources. The bees were dying. We were starving and on the brink of extinction. And the other realms would have followed soon after.”

The man shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the difference between our fight for survival and this warrantless aggression. “Yet the prejudices remain. At least the fae are obvious about their bigotry. The one thing your people did right was instituting the Guild Laws,” the man said.

The Guild Laws were originally put in place to ensure our population could repair itself.

They determined what trade you could learn, your place in society, and who you could marry.

In the fae realm belonging to a Guild was an imperative, as the guildless were often cast away, poorly treated, and sometimes abused.

“Those laws are outdated,” I told him. My mother and I had butted heads many times about the draconian Guild Laws, especially when it came to me dating my ex, whom she considered a guildless, unremarkable bit of fae trash.

“And yet they remain an effective way of organizing society. I look forward to meeting your mother, Prince Cedrych. Despite being a woman, she is very shrewd in her methods. I’m sure I have a lot to learn from her.”

“She is nothing like you,” I insisted, encouraged to know she wasn’t part of this dastardly plot. “She would consider you a coward and a fraud, hiding behind that ridiculous mask of yours. True power doesn’t need to lie to its people and coerce children into doing their dirty work.”

“Are you sure about that?” the man asked loftily.

I wasn’t going to argue the finer points of fae society with him. I wouldn’t lend him any legitimacy in his quest for power. But I did seek to understand his end goal. “Is that why you kidnapped me and brought me here? Because I’m a threat to your supremacist ideology?”

“I brought you here because it is rumored that the lord is besotted with his brash, blue-eyed bedmate.”

“Lies,” I said. Maybe I could still convince him to abandon this scheme.

“I was at the tournament where you saved his life, Your Highness. That sort of gallantry speaks to a deeper level of loyalty and commitment. You have true affection for your lord, and I can only assume he returns it. What an achievement, to be the first person to finally thaw Mercier’s ice cold heart. ”

Mercier. This creep was comfortable using my lord’s first name, an intimacy that I rarely allowed myself. Did this masked fraud know my lord? Had they once been friends?

“Are you the one who kidnapped Galen from his family and threatened to kill his horse?” I demanded.

The man’s eyes flashed with anger before smoothing his countenance into a facade of indifference. “Mercier was never worthy of the throne. The Vasil clan was never supposed to inherit the crown, not with that Kazimir vampyress tainting the royal line.”

Vasil’s mother, he must mean. “What is your name?” I asked, not appreciating this cloak and dagger business.

“You may address me as Master Keeper.”

“Afraid to reveal your true self,” I said. “Not surprising for a coward who wears a mask.”

The man smiled but it was an empty expression, utterly lacking in any real joy or sentiment “I don’t capitulate to schoolyard taunts, Your Highness.”

“All right, let’s assume your plan works and Lord Vasil is deposed. Who do you propose will replace him?” I asked, having a suspicion as to the answer already.

The man spread his arms so that his cloak opened like wings, perhaps in an attempt to further intimidate me.

“I am the most powerful elemental sorcerer in all the Arcane Isles. I command a flock of thousands of loyal subjects. They will follow me because my father was Master Keeper before me, and my grandfather before him. I am of pure elvish blood, and I am committed to upholding elvish custom and tradition. Who else but me shall rule the elvish realm?”

“No one is pure anything. You only need to read a history book to know that we all have common ancestry.”

“Vampyre propaganda,” he said.

I wasn’t going to argue facts. The man was consumed by his own ego and ambition; logic and reason meant little to him unless it could be used to further his agenda. “So, you want the throne for yourself then? Such a predictable plot. And then what will you do once you have it?”

“I will rid this kingdom of mixed breeds and close our borders to foreigners, starting with the vampyre. Purify our society once and for all. I’m only sorry that I won’t be able to honor the commitment Mercier made to you. You see, my heirs must be of pure elvish stock.”

“More than half your population are, as you call them, mixed-breeds, not to mention the dwarves who’ve been in these lands since before recorded elvish history. What will you do with them?”

“They will be confined to the mines.”

“Imprisoned, you mean. Your economy will be ruined and your trade will suffer. Those people you’re so quick to banish or incarcerate have valuable skills, not to mention they have a right to live and prosper here as much as anyone else.”

“My followers understand that some sacrifices must be made for the greater good. And on the other side of this temporary strife, we will be stronger. A more unified society striving toward common values of tradition, excellence, and piety.”

“You’ll be weaker on all accounts and more fragile too.” I shook my head at his utter lunacy. “What will you do with Lord Vasil?” We both knew Vasil would never capitulate to a fraud such as this, nor would he allow his people to be banished or abused.

“I will eliminate him as I should have done years ago.” He said it coldly and without remorse. I was disturbed by his unapologetic admission and his empty smile as he added, “And you, fae prince, will have a front-row seat to his destruction.”

He turned and melted back into the shadows. The mare whinnied and stomped one hoof, snorting aggressively at his departure.

The man was a lunatic. There was more at stake than even our lives.

The people of the elvish territories would suffer if this nemesis rose to power.

One thing I knew for certain, Vasil would never allow it.

He’d put a stop to this so-called Master Keeper’s plot and liberate his followers from this bizarre death cult. I had to believe my lord would prevail.

The alternative was too grim to consider.