Page 87 of Tricky Princess

“My desires aren’t possible, and you know it.”

Garm shook his head, letting out a sigh.

“I know how possible your desires are, how possible it is for the both of you to get what you truly want. You’re the one who doesn’t see it.”

“Ellea doesn’t belong in Hel, I do, and—”

“I swear to the Gods, boy,” Garm said, slamming the hard marble countertop they leaned against. “If you finish that sentence, I’m going to slice your cock off and shove it down your throat. Enough. Go talk to your father; I’m done with you, we all are.”

Garm glared at him for a moment as he towered over him, making Ros feel like the small child he was when they first met.

“All four of us are going to portal to Sam’s.” Garm’s voice was stern, commanding, and Ros couldn’t help but dip his chin. “Then you are going to go to your father, tell him the plan, and talk to him about your future. Figure your shit out and don’t come back until you know what you want.”

“I know what—”

“You don’t get to speak,” he seethed in his face. “Figure out what you want and know you can have it. Don’t come back until you have a plan. Ellea deserves more than half promises and your grumpy ass.”

Ros snapped his gaping mouth closed as Garm walked out to the back porch. He watched him tug on Billy’s ear and then touch Ellea’s cheek lightly. He said something Ros couldn’t make out, and Ellea smiled sadly at him.

He knew he was an ass, but he didn’t know how his father would give him insight on the issue. He had clearly lost his mind in his old age if he was entreating the idea of Ros and Ellea being together. The king, of all people, knew how cruel the curse was.

Maybe he knows something you don’t.

Ros shook his head. Things were the way they were, and that was how they had been since the Gods left.

Ros didn’t like leaving Ellea behind, but as they shadowed onto Sam’s farm, their friends greeted them. Duhne and Florence were there too. She was safe here, and he knew nothing would happen to her. He would make it quick, and he told her as much. She only stared up at him, looking sad and tired.

She leaned into his touch before he disappeared into shadow, stepping out into his father’s study. Looking down at his hand, a drop of Ellea’s tears clung to his skin. He gripped his fist and looked up to his father, who wore a knowing look on his face.

32

Rosier

It was bright in his father’s study as Hel’s morning sun crested the mountain outside of the large window. The king wore a simple black linen shirt tucked into his black pants; Ros couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t worn a suit.

“Father,” Ros said.

“Rosier.”

“Is it a dress-down day?”

“I finished training twenty minutes ago and felt your need to come home.” He nodded toward the door that would lead them toward the small hall. “I didn’t think a suit was needed for the conversation we’re about to have.”

“And how do you know what I came here to talk about?”

“I don’t need Ellea’s powers to know why you’re coming home, without her, after being gone a day.”

“What if I’m only here to tell you about our plan to get her parents?” Ros cocked a brow at him as they stopped in front of his suite’s doors. His father shook his head and led them to two armchairs in front of a roaring fire.

“You could have sent Duhne or Florence, and I doubt you have a grand plan this soon.”

Ros grunted; his father had always been too intuitive. He could never get away with anything as a child.

“Do you still blame me? Do you still hate me so much that you can’t bring yourself to confide in me on what troubles you?”

“What troubles me?” Ros hissed. “All of it is because of you!”

“I do not control the strings of fate.” He said it so calmly, but Ros couldn’t miss the glimmer of sadness in his eyes.