Hiking up my skirts to avoid the rapidly forming puddles, I hurried to the castle steps, squinting through the rain soaking my face. Someone had the same idea as me, but he was using the chaos to sneak away from the castle altogether.
Idris.
I hesitated at the foot of the steps, watching as witches, elves and fae streaked past. The prince walked with his head bowed against the downpour, disappearing around the corner of the castle. Where could he possibly be going in such weather? Not flying, surely? Or for a clifftop stroll? Not when he could barely stand straight. Was it any of my business?
Probably not, but if he was going to do something stupid–and I wouldn’t put it past him–I had to put a stop to it. I no longer suspected him as a traitor, but seeing him sneaking off under the cover of darkness was enough to have my innards churning with unease. Teetering in my heels, I jogged after him, cursing his name with every soggy step. Freezing rain pelted my bare face and shoulders with all the ferocity of hailstones, and when a particularly deep puddle sloshed right over my shoe, the flame of my curiosity sputtered and almost died. Almost.
What could be important enough to lure the prince further out into the waterlogged grounds? If he was planning to teleport into enemy territory again, I had to at least try to talk him out of it. What if an ambush was waiting for him? What if he didn’t have the reaction time he needed to escape?
Clinging to the meagre shelter offered by the ivy-riddled walls, I quickened my pace. When I turned the corner Idris had disappeared around, I squinted, spotting him meandering in the direction of the cliffs, and the path that led to Hyacinth’s cove. This was no weather for a beach stroll. Was it the wind that whistled like that?
Through a shimmering sheet of rain, something large and ghostly pale moved in the distance, speeding toward Idris.
28Who Turned The Tables And Can We Put Them Back?
My eyeliner was probably already streaking down my cheeks, but on the off chance I didn’t yet look like some sort of grunge panda, I carefully swept the rainwater from my face, squinting through the deluge.
The white shape pranced to Idris’ side, ruffling enormous wings.
Saeth.
How on earth had the horse gotten from Tir o Hydref to the sodden grounds of Nairsgarth? Was this the reason for the prince’s frequent absences this past week? I’d assumed he’d been hiding, maybe even avoiding me, but it looked as though he’d been flying his horse across the island instead, without a thought to spare for discretion.
He wasn’t going to fly him now, was he? Not when he could barely stand straight. Somehow, I wouldn’t put it past him, and no other idiots lingered in the rain, waiting to intervene. It looked like it was down to me.
Sighing and grimacing, I hoisted my hems and squelched through the soggy grass.
When I reached them, my suspicions were confirmed. Idris was trying to fly. Saeth stood with his head hung low in resignation, his mane plastered to his neck, while the prince took several failed attempts at placing his foot on the waiting wing joint. He eventually managed the feat, but immediately lost his balance, swinging sideways and thumping against Saeth’s shoulder.
“Shush, Saeth,” Idris reprimanded in the loudest whisper I’d ever heard. “Keep still!”
It might have been funny if it wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen. The poor horse gave a dismal snort and threw me a look that quite clearly said, ‘I get this all the time.’
“Idris,” I barked. The prince jolted, spinning and stumbling. His wide, alcohol clouded eyes took several moments to focus on me. “What are you doing?”
“Oh.” His brow lowered almost to his dark eyelashes. “It’s you.”
With a rumble that shook the ground, lightning cracked overhead, momentarily illuminating the low, petulant clouds. Electricity zinged over my skin and quivered in the air. My heart leapt to my throat, urging me to duck or retreat, but I held out my hand.
“Come on, it’s not safe to be out in a storm.” Especially in the middle of such open grounds. I had no interest in being barbecued.
Idris laughed, a low, joyless chuckle and, ignoring my outstretched hand, turned back to Saeth. This time, his foot planted on the lowered wing.
I moved without thinking, my wet hem slapping against my legs as I closed the distance and grabbed fistfuls of Idris’ jacket. He staggered as I dragged him, but kept his footing, twisting out of my grasp. I launched a fresh attack, this time seizing his wrist with both hands and clinging on for dear life.
Idris blinked, as though mildly surprised that I hadn’t given up, and laughed. Mean-spirited amusement sparked in his eyes as he raised his arm above his head, stretching me to my full height and then some. I teetered on the tips of my toes, while he just grinned down at me, completely unperturbed by the weight of an entire human dangling from his arm.
“You won’t win, you know,” he mused.
The urge to slam my knee into his balls, just to prove that he wasn’t as all-powerful as he thought he was, had me grinding my teeth.
“Maybe not,” I panted, “but I’m not letting you fly like this.”
He lowered his arm, twisting it free of my grasp. Too easily. It was laughable and humiliating in equal measure. As I attempted to grab him again, he caught my wrist, and then the other, with a precision he certainly hadn’t possessed while trying to climb onto Saeth.
“Stop,” he hissed, his grip tightening slightly as he forced my arms down to my side. The movement brought him close. Close enough that his warm breath fluttered over my freezing skin, filling my nose with the light, fruity scent of fairy wine. I wriggled and squirmed, to no avail.
“No. You can’t fly like this.” Giving up my escape attempts, I glanced around Idris’ broad shoulder, to where the horse waited dutifully. “And shame on you, Saeth, for letting him.”
The horse tossed his head with an indignant snort, as though he’d understood me. Maybe he had. I’d given up declaring things impossible. If fairies and vampires were real, why shouldn’t animals understand human speech?
“Don’t be mean to him,” Idris reprimanded, frowning again. “He’s a good boy.”
I blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the prince’s choice of words. I’d never heard him sound so… soft. But I rallied, determined to put an end to this stupidity. “I’m sure he is, but you’re not. You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“So, you were going to fly, weren’t you? Flying under the influence is against the rules.” I didn’t know if that was true, but if it wasn’t, and if I ever became queen, I’d make it a reality. “You could fall and die. Come with me, let’s find your brother.”
“I don’t want to.”
That made two of us. I shivered, eager to get inside and out of my soggy dress, if only the wretched prince would stop being a disagreeable old dinosaur. “Idris, please.”
“No, Aliza.” The prince said my name like he was tasting it, some unfamiliar, exotic thing. The fact that he’d remembered it, that he’d pronounced it properly, knocked me senseless, as did the way it sounded on his tongue, his melodious accent twisting it into poetry.
I didn’t notice he’d released one wrist until his finger hooked through the string of diamonds around my throat. He gazed down at the glittering stones, before lifting his eyes to my face. His soaked, alabaster skin shimmered, and his hair, plastered to his forehead and dripping into his eyes, was as black as the darkest night. It was distinctly unfair that, even drenched, he looked every bit the fairy prince, while I probably looked like a sewer rat.
“No name tag today?” he purred, a hint of mockery in his voice.
