Page 10

CHAPTER 10

LUCAS

Darkness blankets Sorsston, a thick cloud cover blocking out the moon and stars. At this late hour, only a few windows are illuminated by candlelight. I walk the streets of the defeated city, almost hoping for a fight. But no matter how many dim alleys I walk down or how many seedy streets I traverse, no one attacks me. I growl into the night, summon my wings, and shoot into the sky.

Hurt pangs in my chest. Rage and disappointment.

Is this what it feels like to be scorned?

Is this what heartache feels like?

A week ago, Yvette failed to show up in the garden outside her aunt’s cottage. Not that she’d promised to meet me a second time. She’d explicitly stated she felt it was a bad idea.

Yet I’d allowed myself to become hopeful, and I’d arrived in the garden and waited for her until sunrise. Like the fool that I am, I’d also appeared the subsequent nights, only to stand in the garden outside her window, hoping for a glimpse of her, hoping she would sense my presence and sneak out to meet me.

How preposterous that I have allowed a human to affect my mood in such a way.

I soar toward the castle and land in the courtyard. A quick glance around shows over two dozen fae sentries on duty. I turn to head inside the castle when I spot the dozens of heads on the parapet, and I pause in my steps as I recall Yvette’s speech about her experiences during and after the Summer Court’s attack on Trevos. She’d specifically mentioned seeing rotting heads on the parapet while on a walk with her mother.

Would it assuage her conscience to know most of the human soldiers we kill during battle meet quick deaths? Yes, we keep some for questioning, and yes, some of those are tortured, but the vast number of those killed during the capture of a human kingdom don’t suffer for long.

I tear my gaze from the parapet and jog up the castle steps. Despite the late hour, the receiving hall is filled with fae soldiers and dignitaries. A human musician plays a jovial tune on a flute, while a human jester attempts to juggle all the oranges a snickering soldier keeps tossing his way.

I head for the dais and take a seat on the throne. Though I’m not in the mood for company, I’ve been largely absent from the castle during the last week. My presence is expected as my people hold court during the days after a human castle is taken over.

A trembling human servant girl approaches me with a glass of wine. I accept the drink and eye the servant as she scurries away. “Halt!” I say, much louder than intended, and she freezes in her tracks. “Turn around and face me, girl.”

The blonde human turns and regards me with wide eyes. “Yes, your lordship. Er, your majesty. Forgive me, but no one told me how I ought to address you. Please don’t have me killed,” she whispers. “I will bring you more wine or anything you desire.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, sir.” Her face goes pale, and she swallows hard.

I allow my gaze to roam over her body, and while she has a pleasing form and she’s undeniably pretty, I cannot imagine taking her to bed. Because she’s not Yvette. Fucking gods, why can’t I get the dark-haired beauty out of my mind?

I’m about to send the young servant away when her eyes fill with tears and her lips quiver. An unexpected pang of guilt affects me. I’ve struck so much fear into her, just by speaking to her, that she’s on the verge of crying. She’s also shaking so hard it looks like she’s shivering.

If Yvette were here, she would not approve of my behavior. She would not approve of this entire gathering.

I exhale a slow breath and attempt to give the servant girl a polite smile, hoping to put her at ease. It doesn’t work. A second later, she bursts into tears and covers her face.

“Please don’t have me killed, sir.”

General Dalgaard appears at my side. He’s holding a cup of strong-smelling spirits, though he’s not drunk. As the general of the Summer Court army, he never allows himself to become fully intoxicated lest his skill as a commander suddenly be required.

“Good evening, Prince Lucas,” the general says. “Or rather, good morning. I seem to have lost track of time.” He clears his throat and gestures at the sobbing human female. “Would you like me to have this servant removed from the hall?” He tenses as he continues staring at the female, and his eyes suddenly hold a strange, almost surprised gleam, though I cannot fathom why.

“Good evening. Good morning. Whatever the fucking time it is,” I snap, and I rise to my feet. “No, you don’t need to concern yourself with this servant. She is doing an excellent job, and I would like… I would like to see that she gets a raise.”

To his credit, General Dalgaard doesn’t blink. Instead, he nods and says, “I will relay the information to the castle steward.”

The servant girl only sobs harder, and I stare at her in confusion. Is she still worried I might have her killed? Why the fuck is she still crying? Her continued sobs make my guilt deepen and remind me of the time Yvette broke down crying as she spoke about the carnage she witnessed after the capture of Trevos.

A growl leaves my throat before I can stop it, and the girl’s terror not only increases, but she falls to her knees in front of me and keeps saying, “Please, please, please.”

I exchange a look with General Dalgaard. The girl is in hysterics just because I spoke to her, and I’m uncertain how to calm her down. A small crowd has already gathered around us. No doubt my people think I’m about to mete out justice and slay the poor girl on the spot.

Fuck, how do I defuse this situation without coming across as soft? Bloodlust glitters in the eyes of the spectators. They’re expecting a show.

I step down from the dais and lift the sobbing servant girl up. I make eye contact with her just long enough to glamour her, and she finally stops crying. I clutch her close and walk her through the crowd. From the corner of my eye, I think I glimpse General Dalgaard following us, but I soon lose sight of him.

“Sorry to disappoint, my dear friends, but I prefer to fuck in private,” I call out as I head for the staircase that leads to my temporary quarters. Thankfully, the ruse works. The spectators laugh and start to disperse, though I continue escorting the girl to my quarters, cursing this entire situation. I must maintain the illusion that I’m as cruel and depraved as my older brothers, both of whom had successful turns leading the Summer Court army.

I lead the glamoured servant into my quarters and lock the door behind me. “Please, have a seat wherever you’d like. Get comfortable. I won’t hurt you.” I make eye contact with her and release the glamour, then I repeat my words again.

She peers at me in shock, then screams and tries to escape my quarters. She bangs on the door and tries to unlock the deadbolt, but it’s too high for her to reach. The poor frightened thing.

I grab a bottle of wine and sink into a plush chair, then I uncork the bottle and gulp the red liquid down. All the while, the girl continues screaming. But I’ve played this game before, and I’m certain she’ll eventually tire herself out and calm down. She’s not the first servant girl I’ve brought to my quarters under the pretense of savagery.

“As I’ve already said, I won’t hurt you.” I take another swig of wine.

The screaming continues for another half hour, until finally the girl falls quiet and slides to the floor with her knees tucked to her chest. She regards me warily.

“Fear not. I’m not going to violate you.” Is it wrong that I brought her here so my soldiers would think I was doing just that? I remind myself that if we’d stayed in the receiving hall for much longer, her hysterics would’ve drawn an even larger crowd. A crowd that expected to witness the splattering of blood on the stone floor.

Yvette. During the last week, I’ve been second guessing my orders and actions when it comes to dealing with humans. All because of her. It’s like she’s caused me to grow a fucking conscience.

I’ve ordered fewer humans to death during the last week than I normally would, pardoning so many runners that the soldiers are starting to whisper. Runners are the citizens who try to flee a city in the aftermath of its capture, and my people typically slaughter most of them and keep just a few as slaves. And yet, for the first time in my history of leading the Summer Court army, I’ve pardoned runners.

I peer at the servant girl and wonder if I should glamour her into screaming some more. No doubt all the soldiers and dignitaries in the receiving hall could hear the girl’s screams. If she starts screaming again, they’ll believe I’m having another go at her.

“Are you truly not going to hurt me?” The servant girl finally asks, her voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I swear it. I prefer my females willing.” I don’t mention that it’s been ages since I entertained a female companion.

Hope tempered with caution flares in her eyes, and she gives me a long look. “If it’s not fucking you want, why did you bring me here, sir?”

“Would you have preferred I left you to the bloodthirsty crowd in the receiving hall? Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to show fear in front of my people? Especially don’t break down sobbing. It’s more provocative than showing your tits.” I finish off the bottle of wine and set it aside.

“I’ve heard the stories, of course, but I couldn’t help crying. I honestly thought you intended to kill me, sir.” The girl wipes away the last of her tears and takes a deep breath.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Amelia, sir.”

“Hello, Amelia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I straighten in my chair and give her a pointed look. “Tell me, have you ever been in love?”

Her mouth falls open. “No,” she eventually says. “I’ve had crushes, but I’ve never been in love. I’m promised to an old lord who lives on the edge of the kingdom, though I haven’t met him yet. We’re supposed to be married next month. I doubt I’ll love him, but my father says he’s a decent man. I hope we can become friends.”

“Are you certain your old lord survived the battle?”

“Oh yes. He sent his sons to fight in his stead. My father received a missive from him two days ago informing us of his survival. Sadly, his sons both perished.” Her face grows red. “My mother says he’ll want to be getting me with child as soon as possible since he’ll be needing to create an heir before his time in this realm comes to an end.”

I marvel at how talkative Amelia is when she no longer believes her life is being threatened, or that she’s about to be violated. She’s talking to me with more ease than most of my advisors. Even General Dalgaard, whom I’ve served beside for several centuries, is far too formal with me.

“Tell me, Amelia, what could this old lord of yours do to make you fall in love with him?” I fetch two more bottles of wine and uncork them. “Surely you’re not opposed to loving him just because of his advanced age, are you?” I approach the servant girl and hand her one of the bottles, and she accepts it with a grateful smile.

She takes a long gulp of the wine and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Well, sir, I suppose he could treat me with kindness. How he treats others is also important to me. If I see him beating or berating a servant for no good reason, I think I would find it hard to love him. I guess what I’m trying to say is that he must have good character.” She sniffs the wine before taking another long gulp.

“What about gifts?” I ask, thinking about my father’s habit of presenting my mother with elaborate gifts whenever they have a disagreement. “Are there any sort of gifts the lord might give you that might soften your heart toward him?”

Amelia grins. “You’re sweet on someone, aren’t you, sir? And you want to know how to win her affections. What’s her name, then? You can tell me. I can keep a secret, sir, promise I can.” She takes another long gulp of wine, and it occurs to me that she might be getting drunk already.

Gods. It never fails to surprise me how little alcohol it takes to bring down a human. I doubt if Amelia were entirely sober she would be speaking so boldly. However, it’s nice to have someone with whom I might speak openly, even a drunk servant.

“Yes, Amelia, you are correct. I am sweet on someone. I’m sweet on a young human woman named Yvette, but I’m afraid she wants nothing to do with me because of who I am. She views me as the enemy, but she’s also attracted to me.” Of course, now I will have to glamour the servant and erase her memories of our entire conversation. But before I send her on her way, I don’t see any harm in extracting any useful information about the wants and needs of human females from her. Perhaps she’s in possession of some great wisdom that will help me win over Yvette.

Amelia giggles. “I knew it!” Her visage grows serious a second later, and she jabs a finger in my direction. “Here’s what you do, sir. You take your lady on moonlit walks, tell her you think she’s the most beautiful woman in the entire realm, and perform acts of kindness not just to her but to people she cares about. If you can make her family and friends like you too, then she’ll more easily fall in love with you. As for gifts, you don’t want to go too large at first, as you don’t want her to accuse you of trying to buy her love. So, start small, and try to make it personal. A bracelet made of beads the color of her eyes, or a box of candies from her favorite shop.”

I return to my seat, set the now half-empty bottle of wine aside, and lean forward with my forearms resting on my knees. “What else can you tell me?”

Amelia lifts her eyebrows and gives me a bold look. “That depends, sir. What’s going to happen to me? After I leave your quarters, are the scavengers downstairs going to come after me for a turn of their own?”

“You’re worried you’ll be accosted and possibly violated by the males in the receiving hall once you leave here?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m worried about. Give me some assurances that no harm will come to me, and I’ll be as forthcoming as you want about matters of love. I might not have ever been in love myself—yet—but plenty of my friends have, and I have four older sisters who tell me everything that happens in their romantic lives.”

“After you tell me all I want to know, I will escort you to safety outside the castle in secret, to your parents’ home or a friend’s house or anywhere else of your choosing. I will also compensate you for your time and your troubles. How does twenty pieces of silver sound?”

“It’s a deal, sir.”