“You killed them?”
“I’m hungry. Everyone is hungry. We need more than cheese.”
Everyone was hungry but me. My stomach churned as Idris unfastened the corpses from his hip and laid them before him. The small, sharp knife, made from the same dawn-bright metal as his swords, flashed in the glow of his fire. I looked away quickly. I might not be squeamish, but as far as I was concerned, he was barbaric. Those poor bunnies. I retreated to my tent, unable to find any more words to waste on the prince.
With Pansy snoring softly beside me, I stared at our canvas ceiling, my guts churning.
What have you done?
What had I done?
I faked sleep for as long as I could, but the smell of cooking meat had the witches stirring, and before long, the camp was filled with the sounds of life. I preoccupied myself with removing the bandage from my hand and silently marvelling at the thin, pink strip of perfectly healed skin cutting across my palm, but when I couldn’t reasonably fake it any longer, I headed out into the open, only to find myself face to face with a prince. For a second, I thought it was Idris standing before me, but then I noticed the long hair tied in a low ponytail, and I relaxed, smiling.
“Good morning.” Anwir held a little metal plate, and my stomach dropped at the sight of slightly charred meat. “Breakfast.”
He pushed the plate toward me, but I clamped my teeth together and shook my head, unable to rid myself of the image of those adorable little angels with dead, staring eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t eat meat,” I managed, my jaw tight. “I’m a vegetarian.”
I grimaced in apology. It was sweet of him to think of me, and I wouldn’t have been so affected by the sight of meat if I hadn’t seen Idris settle down to skin the rabbits.
“What? You don’t like meat?” Anwir, to my disappointment, reacted the same way most people did when learning of my preferences. As though not eating meat was unthinkable.
“I don’t dislike it; I just don’t want anything to die for me. Thanks anyway.”
He looked slightly crestfallen, so I took pity on him. “You have mine. I don’t like a heavy breakfast anyway.”
It was an outright lie. I was often pulled from sleep by the insistent complaints of my stomach, but for some reason, I wanted to make Anwir feel better. He’d only wanted to show me kindness, after all. It was more than could be said for his brother.
The prince was quiet as we headed to the log we’d shared the previous evening, me grabbing an apple from Sage as I passed. Idris’ fire was still burning, much to my annoyance. I’d hoped Sage would admonish him, but apparently, being a royal arsehole meant he could do whatever he liked. The prince himself sat nearby, leaning against a tree trunk and staring unseeingly at the flames. His own plate of murdered rabbit lay untouched beside him. I scowled. What had he killed them for, if he wasn’t even going to eat them? So much for being hungry.
“I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t eat meat before,” Anwir mused.
Nearby, Idris stirred at the sound of his brother’s voice. Great. Was he eavesdropping? Though his eyes remained trained on the campfire, a tiny line appeared between his dark eyebrows. He was probably the type of person who would judge me for being compassionate to innocent creatures. He’d probably make a point of moaning and groaning in ecstasy as he devoured those poor bunnies, just to offend me.
“You don’t mind others eating it?” Anwir prompted, pulling my attention from his surly brother.
I smiled encouragingly. It was refreshing when people didn’t go on the offensive, and instead showed interest in my diet. A lot of people took my choices as a personal attack, when I really couldn’t care less what they did, as long as it didn’t involve skinning their prey in front of me. It was rare to meet someone who spoke without judgement, and rarer still to have them consider my comfort.
“Not at all. Tuck in.” I took a bite of my apple. It wasn’t that bad. I might be hungry again sooner rather than later, but it was crisp and fresh.
Following my lead, Anwir ate a piece of meat, though he chewed tentatively. The wary way he met my gaze from the corner of his eye had me stifling a laugh. I swallowed with difficulty.
“Honestly, I don’t mind!”
He relaxed, smiling with his lips closed as he chewed. Even with a mouth full of food, his face was the very image of symmetrical beauty. It was distinctly unfair.
“You have a good heart,” he said at last. “Compassionate.”
“Thank you. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’m a vet, or a student, for now. I should be graduating any day now, but instead, here I am, saving you two. Anyway, I care for sick animals, try to make them better, but it’s not always possible, and losing a patient is… painful.”
“A healer. I should have guessed.”
My ears heated. “I try my best.”
“You’ve never considered healing people?”
Irritation licked at my veins, a swift flip from the glow I’d felt moments ago. It wasn’t uncommon for people to learn of my profession and immediately judge it less worthy, as though performing surgery on an animal was somehow easier, requiring less skill than the human equivalent. “Animals are better company than most people.”
“I have offended you, please forgive me.” Again with the wary eyes. I softened slightly. “I only meant to say… healers are cherished in my kingdom, or they were. Before…”
“Before your uncle?”
“Yes. They are extremely rare amongst the fae. My mother was a healer. Perhaps she still is. I don’t know if she still lives.”
“She does,” Sage piped up from near the fire. “Though we receive little news on our side of the ward.”
My heart squeezed tight, oozing pity and shame. I’d been so preoccupied with my own plight, wrapped up in how my own parents might be feeling, that I’d never considered what the curse must have meant to those who had known and loved the princes. To have them taken away, to have hope wither with every passing day. Century, even. The poor queen. She had lost her husband, then had her children betrayed by their father’s brother. She had lost everything, and suffered for longer than I could comprehend.
I laid a comforting hand on Anwir’s forearm. He tensed, his muscles hard beneath my palm, but after a second or two he relaxed. “You’ll see her again soon enough.”
