Page 18

T wo days came and went, and still West left her on her own. He didn’t return to the apartments, nor sleep in the bed. Crimson visited her brother on the second morning, to check in and make sure he was doing alright with the transition into the palace. Cobalt was fast asleep when she came across him but Leysa assured her that he was more than fine. She took a small sample of his blood with a thin needle that left a tiny, practically invisible scab and explained all of the various methods she was using to figure out what illness kept him in his cruel clutches.

Crimson understood about half of it all.

There was still much of the castle left to explore, which is what she did. There wasn’t much else to do, other than wait for West so that she could show him the image in the book, and ask his opinion on Osira’s advice. His portrait kept her company, even if it wasn’t as warm as he truly was. She didn’t miss him, because she didn’t know him, but there was a part of her that ached to see him .

She’d never been lonely before, but she was now.

The absence of her brother lingered around her like a haunting ghost, even if she was able to see him whenever she wanted to. But the large bed, without a second figure to curl up against in the late hours of the night, was the worst part of it.

The instigator of her isolation.

When Crimson turned down the first floor to see what she could find there, she ran into a familiar figure.

Prince Altivar Talon.

It was only a matter of time before she came face to face with him. Now or never, she supposed.

There was a different appearance he held here instead of the one he wore well in the Pits. But she supposed that all had different identities when it came to their second life revolving around the Blades of Blood. A chance to play someone else for a day or two, to leave their troubles and worries behind.

Altivar scanned her up and down, backing up a couple of steps to get a better look before a smile broke out on his face. “Well, hello there.”

His long brown hair was in a high ponytail at the top of his head, and his skin glowed with what seemed to be a pearl powder. He looked like his mother, even if slightly more masculine. He was dressed in a chiffon robe that fluttered with the breeze, draped over his shoulders in a garnet shade. Golden suns covered it, shimmering whenever he shifted. His fawn trousers came to his high waist, but he wore no shirt.

“Hello.” Crimson said warily.

West had warned her about him. And if West thought that the Prince was one of the most dangerous people to ever be known, then she wasn’t going to take his cautious statement lightly.

Altivar slunk around her, circling her like she were some sort of prey for a hunting game he’d cleverly concocted. “I was wondering when we’d eventually meet.”

“And now we have.” She went to excuse herself before she could become involved in whatever game he’d surely force her into playing. His long fingers wrapped around her upper arm and dragged her back to him. His nails were coated in a glossy lacquer that held a beige shade. They weren’t sharp, but trimmed enough that she bit back a wince.

“Not so fast. We’ve only exchanged pleasantries. I want to get to know you better.” Altivar’s voice was like liquid velvet. It was soft and silky with a hint of roughness. “Say you won’t deny me that.”

Crimson held back her barbed retort. He was the heir of the Empire, after all. Even if she didn’t like him, he still deserved that much respect. “What would you like to know?”

“Many things, so might as well make ourselves comfortable.” He chuckled and refused to let her go as he began walking in the opposite direction. The teal sash at his hips swayed with the movement, bronzed bells jingling with each step. “My rooms aren’t far from here.”

“I don’t think that West would like me to be in your rooms, Prince Altivar.” Crimson tried to flick each of his painted fingers off, one by one, but he held on strongly. There were a couple rings adorned on some of them, studded with square sapphires and round rubies.

“Nonsense. He’d want us to be well acquainted.” He waved her off, slinging her around the corner and into a new section of the castle. “Besides, considering this is my home firstly, not his, then I think I should get to know whom I’m living with, don’t you?”

She couldn’t argue with that logic.

It was his home first, then West’s .

West was a guest of the Empress and her son, and she was a guest of West.

Altivar led her like a dog on a leash towards his part of the palace, allowing her to trail behind as he brought them into his room. She supposed West’s chambers would be small compared to this.

He finally let her go when they entered.

It was mostly open, with lots of curved windows that allowed the Prince to see every angle of the grounds if he ever so desired. There were plenty of lounging settees and a massive four poster bed in the second room, against the fattest wall. It was bedecked in gossamer curtains that hung over it, with all manner of creatures sewn into the sheer fabric.

Crimson took in the massive glass tank off to the side of the entrance and shivered as she saw the three scaly bodies that coiled around each other. They were black as pitch, shiny and hissing with forked tongues that flicked in and out with the rattling sounds.

“Do you like them?” He purred in her ear.

“I’ve never been a fan of snakes.” She responded, trying to look anywhere but at them again.

“I suppose most aren’t. Fascinating creatures though, snakes. They can shed their skin just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “And grow a new one, leaving the old one in the dirt.” Altivar strolled over to his curved windows and threw the citrine curtains open, tying them back with a turquoise cord. “How are you finding everything so far? I’m sure it’s vastly different from the Bronze Gate dwelling that he found you in.”

Crimson brought her gaze back to him. “It’s hard to know where to look. There’s so much colour here. Everything is beautiful.”

“Myself included?” He asked with a hint of a sly smirk. He was baiting for compliments, and they both knew it. But she gave into him, allowing one to slide across her tongue and over to him in the most simplistic form possible.

A single word.

“Yes.”

He was, but not in the sort that was warm, embracing or alluring. He was the cold kind, like a white winter that never ended. Or the coarse sand that refused to let up in the middle of a treacherous sandstorm.

“You flatter me.” He fanned himself with his hand as he feigned a blush. “But seeing you up close, in far better lighting than those dank, mildew infested Pits, I can most certainly see why our Captain of the Watch took an interest in you. You’re positively radiant. ”

No one ever referred to her like that, not even Fitz when he was alive.

“Tha- thank you.” She stuttered, unused to taking any sort of compliment, let alone one from a Prince. Altivar adjusted and his robe slipped enough that she could make out both of his tattoos. The snake one that she’d seen previously, and a beetle along his opposing shoulder.

He followed her gaze and peered down at it. “Ah, you’ve found my scarab beetle. I find insects to be devious little creatures. They can spy on any conversation, blend into almost any space, fill almost any crack without ever being so much as noticed.”

“Seems… wrong.” Crimson didn’t like the way he grinned at her. “But then again, insects are along the same opinion as snakes for me.”

Altivar let out a judgemental noise, fixing his robe back over his lean shoulder. “How did you and Westley start this whole…. relationship? ” He inquired with an expression that told her it wasn’t for informal conversations, so much as the fact that this was an interrogation.

Crimson cleared her throat, reciting the lines she had been fed. “At the Pits. He’s the owner of the apartment that my brother and I live in. I didn’t know it until that night, but we got to talking and realised that we held much in common.”

This was the story West asked her to tell, the one that he felt was the most believable for their short period of time to sell it all.

“I see.” He murmured, as if he almost bought it. “It all happened extremely fast. Any explanation for that? Because I’ve never once seen West take a liking to anyone, let alone in a span of days.”

“He’s very attractive. I suppose when he caught me, something sparked between us. Touch is a very important part of finding a connection, after all.”

Not that she would ever forget the way his hands brushed against her. But it wasn’t the first encounter after the tray spilled that ran through her mind. It was the one after, when he’d cornered her in the bathing chamber and pressed against her.

The way her skin flushed and her body heated to an unreasonable degree. The way his breath caressed her neck and made her feel as though something else was about to occur.

“I suppose so.” He came closer to her and dangled his hand along her neck, tracing her collarbones. “I quite like touching, myself.”

She swallowed, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Something caught her eye in the corner of her room and she took the bait, using it as a way to wiggle out of his touch. She jumped off of the couch and made for it.

“What is that? ” Crimson gasped as she knelt before a vial full of ruby liquid. It almost shimmered as she shifted her head to get a better look at it .

Altivar came over to see what she found so interesting. “That? It’s Heartache’s blood.”

Her stomach churned. “His blood?”

“Mhm hmm.” He hummed. “It’s said to hold immense power. A single drop of it into someone’s drink can make them fall madly in love for the entire evening with the first person they lay their eyes on. Three drops, and it can break the truest of love. But two, two is the sweet spot.”

“What would two drops do?” Crimson couldn’t imagine someone getting their hands on something as powerful as it.

His eyebrows bent forward, his white teeth flashing in delight. “Two drops of Heartache’s blood into your wine, drunk to the very last bit, can make you lust after the person you most desire. Quite strongly too.”

“I see.” She gulped, falling away from the vial.

He seemed to gauge her reaction. “Or so it’s said. I’ve never seen the potion in action.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” Crimson stood up and fixed her copper skirt. “In the wrong hands, that could be dangerous.”

He flipped his palm over, as if he were looking at every marking within his flesh. “Would you consider my hands to be dangerous?”

She studied him from head to toe. He almost seemed to enjoy her intrusive gaze, bask in it even like a striped tiger in the sun. “I don’t know you well enough to make that call.”

“We must amend that. You’re Captain Westley Saint’s lover after all. And finding how often the dutiful male is by my side, night and day, it only seems fair that you are as well.” He fell back into the rich red couch, draping one arm across the back of it.

“He wouldn’t like that.”

“Wouldn’t like what, you by my side all day? Or getting to know one another on a more intimate level? ”

“Either. Both.” She replied without hesitation.

“Why ever not?” The Prince pretended to pout, pulling his lip into a downward position and rapidly blinking his long lashes in the effect to cause tears. The painted kohl around his eyes seemed to smear with the action.

Crimson struggled to explain without lying to him. “West is… protective. Not in a bad way, just in a way that means he doesn’t like people messing about his personal life. I think it’s best to respect that.”

“You seem to know him far better than most ever have or ever will. Myself, included.” Altivar said with a curious mingle to his glossy voice. “Why is that? Has the private captain finally let someone see into the furthest parts of himself? Has he unwound from his uncaring and cold attitude towards life?”

The words cold and uncaring did not suit West at all. They seemed to fit the male in front of her far better, though. He could play coy all he wanted, act the victim, but she was beginning to see why West didn’t particularly like his wry charge. He was obnoxious, assuming, and annoying.

And those were just the words off the top of her head.

“He’s not that hard to figure out, as long as you know how to read him.” Crimson muttered under her breath. She’d only known him for a week and yet she felt as though he was a lifelong friend.

“And you know how to read him, do you?” He quickly leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, legs spread wide.

“Like a Saints-damned book.” She smiled, stealing a swipe of sharpness from her weapons and adding it to her teeth. He appeared to see it, faltering back an inch. “But maybe that’s because like you said, I’m Captain Westley Saint’s lover. ” She threw his own words back at him.

“There you are.” West’s voice found her ears .

Crimson’s cheeks heated to the point of no return, her rolling stomach turned leaden and a biting chill went through her as if someone left a window open in the midst of autumn as he overheard their conversation, her words. Crimson turned to see him standing in the doorway.

“I was looking for you.” His sapphire studded eyes fell on the wayward Prince who merely wiggled his long fingers in greeting. “Why are you in here?”

“Do relax, guard dog. I was simply showing your dazzling partner here around the castle a tad bit more. I found her wandering on her own, you see, and thought she might benefit from the pleasure of my company.” He explained but didn’t rise from his lazy position on the couch. “We were having a lovely conversation about you just now.”

“I heard.” West was short and blunt with him, edging closer to her. His hand braced along her lower back and she had to remind herself not to jump at his sudden proximity. It was all for show, this game they would play to sell the reason that she was here. “Are you ready to go? I figured we’d visit Cobalt before heading to the room for a meal together.”

His fingers curled around her hip and her heart melted into it, purred like a damned cat at his touch. Altivar honed in on it, a sly grin tugging on his face that made her gut feel ill.

“Cobalt. What a fascinating name.” Altivar murmured as he checked the underside of his nails. They were perfect, of course, but that didn’t stop the Prince from finding something else more interesting than the conversation in front of him. “What’s your last name, Crimson?”

“She doesn’t have one. Most of the folk in the slums don’t have one. Last names aren’t common in the Bronze Gate.” He answered for her, slick and smooth like an ice patch hardening over .

“Is that so?” His stare met hers, not West’s as he awaited an answer.

But the captain still spoke for her. “Yes.”

Crimson dipped her chin in alignment with his response. “Just one name here, Prince Altivar.”

“If you insist.” He seemed to not believe her, focus slitting until they were barely more than a reptile’s. “Can’t wait to see the pair of you at the ball in three days. I do hope you’ll dress for the occasion. It would be rather bland if you showed up in your uniform, Captain.”

“The Empress has already enforced a strict dress code into me. Rest assured that I’ll be properly dressed for it.” West said through gritted teeth.

“Good. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Come on, Heartstrings. Let’s go.” He uttered to her, quietly so that only she heard. West pushed her forward, out of the room but didn’t remove his hand from her lower back for the entire way.