“Um. Could you…?” I wave my hand between us.
“Yes?”
“Put some more clothes on.”
A golden eyebrow rises. “My form offends you?”
Hardly.
“Well, no. It’s just… I… It doesn’t matter.”
He retrieves a black shirt from the couch and stuffs his arms into the sleeves, not bothering to button it. That solves the bulging-biceps problem nicely but does nothing to alleviate the attractive chest issue. Or that disturbing face—all perfect sharp lines and planes, the pouting top lip, and the gold paint under his eyes highlighting their strange glowing beauty. I still have to deal with all of that and pretend he looks normal.
“I forget humans are ridiculous creatures, constantly covering up the things they crave most as if it will decrease their depravities.”
Because we’ve spent a considerable amount of time playing hnefatafl these past days leading up to the feast, I know he’s joking, but something glints in his eyes, hard like the stones gilding the castle walls. The Prince of Air is displeased.
“You were going to tell me more about the place where you live,” he reminds me. “Blackburn.”
“It’s called Blackbrook. And there’s not much more to tell other than what I said yesterday. It’s a big, smelly, busy city filled with equal amounts of beauty and ugliness, crawling with both the mega-rich and super-poor. You’d hate it.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I wish to see it.”
“But you wouldn’t like it. Have you ever been to the human realm?”
“No. Until now, I haven’t wanted to. But I’ve heard many tales.”
“Well, where I live, there aren’t any magical quests like those incredible adventures I’ve been reading about in The King of Ireland’s Son.”
He straightens and leans over the table. “So, you’re reading the books in your room?”
“I am. Did you put them there?”
“No.”
My smile falters.
“But I ordered it done,” he adds with a smirk. “You are entitled to some pleasure.”
Warmth washes through me. He’s not the cold-hearted beast he pretends to be, and this kind version of Ever, the thoughtful one I see a little more of each day, is a greater danger to me than the fierce huntsman I first met. Because I think I like him. A lot. I just wish I understood him better.
“How does your magic work?”
“Do you remember the Lake of Spirits we visited on our journey here?”
“Yes, the one on top of Mount Cúig.”
“That’s right. Before the beginning of time, the Elements—the Sisters Five—sprang from deep within the lake. Our people don’t know how or why they came, only that they have always been here. They gift us with their powers. Ether, the spirit of all that lives, loves us dearly. Salamander, Undine, and Terra, like preoccupied parents, are mostly indifferent. Aer, to whom my powers are bound, wishes only to punish and control me.”
“Why? What did you do to make her hate you?”
“Just like the first Black Blood prince, I will never love her.”
I laugh, then take a sip of wine. “I didn’t realize fae could love anyone.”
“I admit it is rare. But still possible.”
“So is that why you can’t just send Aer away or…” I swallow hard. “Destroy her?”
“Yes. The waters of the lake strengthen my power, but she keeps me tethered to it.”
“I don’t understand why you want to kill your queen. Won’t you die and the curse just pass to Raff?”
His brows knit together. “I don’t know for certain, because in hundreds of years, no heir has murdered their mate before. There’s a chance it won’t pass to my brother if I kill her, a clue in an ancient poem.”
My heart clenches. “Tell it to me.”
“It’s quite long.” Sharp teeth sink into his plush bottom lip, then he speaks softly. “This is the end, the key part of the riddle. If by another’s hand the chosen dies, then before their blood fully weeps and dries, black will fade to gray, gray to white, and white to never. Never was the darkest taint and never will it ever be.”
My skin crawls. “What the heck does that mean? Again, with the stupid fae vagueness! Who is the chosen—you or the girl?”
He gives a lazy shrug.
“How can you be so casual about this?”
“I’ve lived with the curse of the black poison for many years and thought upon this riddle just as long. Surely it means if one of us is killed, it will be as if the black blood never existed.”
Now my heart hardens. “And so, you’ve chosen to kill her and save yourself?”
“No. I think I have no choice—it must be she who is murdered to end it. The girl is chosen. The prince inherits. And I cannot take the risk of provoking someone into killing me. Because if I am wrong, and dead, then the curse will pass to the kingdom’s next heir, and that is Raff. And I will do anything to prevent his suffering.”
“Even killing an innocent girl?”
“Yes.” He sighs and scrubs his face with his knuckles, looking heartbreakingly young, vulnerable even.
When he notices me staring, a blank expression replaces his tormented one. “Make your move, Lara.” He nods at the board. “I grow weary of waiting for you to begin again.”
Weighed down by talk of the terrible curse, of murder, I attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “In that case, maybe you’d better summon the pretty courtier who was hanging off you in the onyx courtyard yesterday.” Well, damn, it didn’t come out the way I intended—like a joke.
He blinks at me.
“You know, the one with the three eyes and six arms? Ask her to come and finish the game. She’d be speedier and altogether more pleasing company, I’m sure.” Now I’m sounding even meaner. And, worse, jealous.
His lips quirk. “I’d rather play with you.”
I grimace in response, and he looks momentarily uncertain before brightening. “And, if you win, Lara, I will grant you a wish. What would you ask me for?”
Here’s where I should demand he find a portal and help me return home. “Hmm…” I trail my gaze over the silver-thread pattern of bees, and feathers, and swirling wind currents on his dark shirt, his necklace finally snagging my attention. “I quite like your pendant. What is it?” I squint and lean closer.
He holds it out, and my heart pounds faster.
“A dragonfly.”
“It’s beautiful. If I win, I’ll have that, thanks.”
His sharp nail taps the insect’s garnet eyes glowing like drops of blood against the finely worked gold body. “Will you now?”
“Yep.” I seize a crispy-fried zucchini flower from a platter and stuff it in my mouth to hide my grin. “I definitely will.”
“Fine. It will suit you well and match the carved brooch the elves gave you. And if I should win this game, I will ask two things of you.”
“That’s not very fair.” I sit back, still smiling. “Why two?”
“Be at ease. The first thing I want, will be for me. And the second thing I will ask you to give me, will actually be for your own benefit.”