Page 32 of The Ballad of a Bard

S he made a hard bargain with the man over the necklace, and with her powers of persuasion and just the right touch on his wrist, Crimson walked away without a single coin handed over. He blushed and wrapped it up for her, insisting on tying a pretty little bow around the velvet satchel he offered her with it. She didn’t deny him, allowing his flirtatious administrations whilst her own heart beat wildly.

She’d found it.

Of course that left the issue of figuring out how to use it, how to summon her father back to Tazali. No one knew how to use it, not even the legendary writer Rapscallion Voss himself.

But this was one step in the right direction.

Crimson knew they’d still sail across the Withering Sea and travel through Valkrigge to Belledon, regardless of the talisman or not. There was no guarantee that she knew how to summon him, so facing him in person would be the better chance of calling him home.

Maybe, just maybe if he saw his daughter again after all these years, he’d be willing to come back on his own. Without the threat of control looming over his head.

She exited the shop with a thankful wave to the shopkeeper, and he shouted a few compliments and farewells towards her as she stepped out into the cobblestone street. It was still mid-afternoon, with the sunset only two hours off by the placement of the sun. Crimson shielded her eyes as she looked upwards towards the hill that led to the Gold Gate. An hour back, then she could wait for West to finish his training session for the day before showing him the trinket.

She began her trek upwards, sinking her heeled boots into the waiting mud that made up the glue to hold the stones together. She avoided running into the patrons that made up the Silver Gate, tugging her hood up to avoid the sunburn that would inevitably fall on her cheeks. The downside to being pale, she supposed.

“Crimson?” A sleek voice called to her.

She spun around to see who summoned her, only to immediately feel a jab of panic enter her system.

Prince Altivar was casually strolling through the streets with an orange chiffon scarf loosely wrapped around his braided head. He wore a bronze powder high on his cheek bones, along his eyes, under his brows and a matching belt slung low around his waist. There were emerald pants that were opened on the sides, tucked into his ankles and held together by copper strands of a folded cord. The wind billowed through the slits, adding a puffed effect to them but he seemed unbothered by the amount of golden skin that was on display. His shirt was low cut, and could barely be called a shirt with how much she could see.

“Prince.” She dipped her chin in respect and he lifted it up with a firm placement of inviting fingers.

“Don’t bother with things such as that. We’re friends, yes?” A twinkle appeared in his amber eyes that suggested she say yes.

No, Crimson thought.

“We’re at least acquaintances.” She said and pulled her chin from his grasp. He made no move to stop her.

Altviar barked out a coarse laugh that didn’t suit his soft features in the slightest. “Oh, I enjoy you very much, you red beauty.”

The sound made her want to crawl inside of herself, to disappear from the earth as if she’d never been there in the first place. She shivered instead, continuing her walk towards the palace. He joined her, no need for an invitation it seemed.

“What are you doing down here, Majesty?” Crimson questioned and let her hood fall back to her shoulders, fixing it into place. He was tall enough that he blocked most of the rays without issue, especially with how close he stood to her.

West wouldn’t like his proximity.

She smiled at that particular fact.

“Nothing to concern your lovely self with.” His voice lilted in a heavy accent that she would forever recognize. “Just a stroll about the gates when I found myself utterly bored with any of the entertainment options I had within the walls of my castled confine.”

“I can’t imagine ever growing bored inside the walls.” She admitted to him. A few people recognized him and bowed in his general direction. He waved them off with a flourish of fingers and kept walking.

“When you’ve lived there as long as I, you find that everything loses interest after a while. The colours all meld together and things no longer stand out. When you’ve had your way with everyone inside, there isn’t as much to do anymore.” He said, bored. “Well, almost everyone. ”

Crimson dropped her pleasant expression. “And it’s going to remain almost everyone. ”

Altivar chuckled, low in his long throat. “Quick to assume, aren’t you, Lyric?”

She didn’t answer, confirm or deny. Of course he would know who she was, who she’d pretended to be.

He went on. “I could have very well been speaking about our delightful captain now, couldn’t I? I haven’t had his pleasure yet, either.”

“But you weren’t.” She licked the bottom row of her teeth in annoyance. He hadn’t even been by her side for ten minutes and she was already growing tired of his endless taunts. “Considering that little stunt you pulled at your mother’s ball.”

“Did you enjoy that?” He rephrased his question in a lower tone, “Did West enjoy you ?”

Crimson tucked her snarky remark away for a later time as they neared the Gold Gate. “We don’t need help creating a romantic environment, thank you very much.”

“From the chemistry I saw in the ballroom, or lack thereof, you most certainly do.” He inhaled deeply, dramatically. “My reptiles have more sinful things to do than the pair of you. Why, I almost wonder if there’s another reason why West brought you here. Perhaps one that’s not linked to a romantic awakening?”

“Why are you so fascinated by the aspects of our relationship? Not everyone has copious amounts of sex with whomever and whenever they’d like.” Crimson snapped at him, anxiously awaiting the moment when he wasn’t by her side. But it wasn’t like she could lose him in the crowd; especially not as the crowd became slimmer as they entered the top level of Tazali.

He’d easily be able to find her once again.

Altivar shrugged his shoulders. “I told you already. I’m bored. And I find you two to be extremely interesting.”

“Our relationship, existent or not, has no place in your life. With all due respect, your Majesty, I suggest you butt out.” She couldn’t help the flare up of anger as it surged for her, taking control of everything inside of her and leaving her with nothing but a burning fury behind.

“You’re adorable when you get mad, feisty even.” He snorted and shoved his hands behind his back. His hood had fallen a little, revealing his brown hair to be braided in two small wefts on each side, tumbling into a four strand one down his back. Golden beads were woven into them, in random places by tiny hands. “No wonder the captain seems so taken with you.”

He’s not, she wanted to say.

“You really shouldn’t be focusing on us when you have plenty of other things to focus on.”

“Like what, pray tell?”

“Perhaps getting ready to rule when your mother hands it over?” She aimed her tone to sound kinder, nicer, less aggravated with him. He seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of her and letting him win would only make it worse.

“I’m not taking over.” He scoffed, all matters of amusement slipping off his pretty face. “Soon, or ever. My mother is an immortal who enjoys ruling, so why would she ever hand it over to the likes of me?”

Crimson supposed she hadn’t thought about it that way.

“That must be hard for you.” She was genuine as she considered it all from his perspective. There, that was a drop of pity for him. For never earning his birthright, as any other mortal would have done. To show his hand to his mother and prove to her that he could do it, perhaps even better than she was.

“More than you can ever know.” He admitted and she believed him. He’d dropped whatever the shell he usually had up and for once, Crimson saw a different person. Then it was gone and the Altivar she knew returned.

“I see what you’ve done, clever girl. Distracted me with the subject of myself in order to lure me away from the falsity of your nature with Westley Saint.” He pulled an arrogant smirk back onto his face. “Tsk, tsk. No matter. I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you. I find things out, no matter how deep you’ve buried them. It’s only a matter of time.”

They walked through the last layer of the gate, approaching the tall castle. The domes glimmered in the sunlight, casting the gardens in a basking aura of gold and ochre.

“Are you threatening me?” She tried to ask without a single sign of a nervous stutter.

“No, of course not.” His eyes crinkled. “If I were threatening you, you’d know.”

It didn’t soothe her as they paused before the training yard, watching Damien Steel go head to head with Rook, whilst West watched. He bobbed his head in a pleased way as they repeated the motions and back tracked the movements.

“Good!” He clapped and stepped forward. “Now Rook, I want you to switch to defence and try it all over again.” He repositioned Damien and fell back once again, crossing his arms over the other and watching.

They repeated everything to his specifics and she marvelled at the way he easily commanded others, how they listened to his order without complaint. West followed every single flow, every step, every attack as they worked against each other.

“He’s truly something, isn’t he?” Altivar murmured from beside her and she’d completely forgotten he’d still been there. “There’s a reason why my mother was dead set on having him as her captain of the Watch. She wouldn’t allow for anyone else to fill that spot.”

“They’re very close.”

“Not that close, worry not.” The Prince tried to assure her, as if he could sense where her head was at.

“I’m not.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re not looking at the captain like he’s already yours, but as if he’s something you crave desperately. As if you’d never had a sample of those delicious lips, or what lies underneath his plain clothes.”

Crimson hated the way he was talking about West. Hated the way he was looking at the Saint like a meal to be enjoyed, as a snack to consume in the darkest hours of the bleakest night. He was the Prince, heir to Tazali and all it had to offer him. He could have whatever he wanted, served to him on a silver platter even.

But West was hers.

He could never have West.

Which was why she did the most foolish, stupid thing she could think of.

Crimson sucked in a breath, adding to her mustered confidence before she stalked over to West. The men continued their mock fighting around the ring as he taught them, a few others gathered around to watch with intrigue at who would win.

He noticed her and opened his mouth to say something polite, no doubt. But she didn’t give him the chance to utter anything as she reached him.

“Just trust me, alright?” She whispered as her heart thudded with a wild pace of nothing mortal. Her own powers tuned in to the heightened sense, of him because he did such unsaintly things to her nerves whenever he was around. They thrilled in response, her magic flowing bright and bold like a star as Crimson experienced it from the other end.

Her own powers reacted against her, making everything so much more.

Confusion spread across his handsome face as she lifted herself up on her toes to reach him, and tugged him down by the collar of his shirt.

She made sure Altivar was watching as she kissed him.