Chapter Two A Handsome Prince

Chapter Two

A Handsome Prince

Samara

I watched my brothers until they were consumed by the forest, and for a brief moment, I found myself hoping they never returned, but my guilt was so great, I spoke aloud to whoever might have heard my thoughts.

"Forgive me. I know not what I think," I said.

It would be better if I disappeared. I had nothing to offer Gnat, save what I did for my brothers, but there were a number of women, as Michal so often demonstrated, willing to fill my role, and they would do so happily.

Even knowing that, I did not leave. I couldn't. Llywelyn was wrong. This house belonged to my parents. My father had built it, and my mother had made it beautiful with her paintings. They were buried in this ground. I could not leave them, and I could not leave Mouse or Rooster. They were my best friends, and I would never abandon them to the cruelty of my brothers no matter how often I dreamed of a different life—or none at all.

I closed the door and headed back to the kitchen where I gathered the dishes, sliding scraps into a bucket. I'd have to bury them later, since I could not be sure that Hans hadn't poisoned what remained. I had only made that mistake once—tossing leftovers out the back, thinking that the birds or the deer might eat them, but the next morning, I'd found three dead wolves.

Hans had laughed—and then laughed harder when I'd had to bury them.

Once the dishes were washed, I moved upstairs to finish cleaning Jackal's floor.

I lowered to my hands and knees, prying pieces of ceramic from between the cracks of the wooden floor with a knife. I suspected my brother had crushed them into the seams when I'd gone downstairs for another pitcher, and I knew if he found so much as a sliver of porcelain remaining, he'd break everything in the house in retaliation.

So I was careful, but the pieces were sharp and cut into my fingers. I did not mind the pain so much as the blood, because it reminded me of my dream, and my dream reminded me of the fae, and the fae reminded me that I had once been in love.

Foolishly in love.

And when I thought about love, I thought of everything that came with it and what I would never have—passion, protection, trust. I'd longed for someone to touch me because they desired me, and I'd wished for it only once. In the aftermath of that wish, whatever magic hung heavy in the air forced me to cut off the only hand that had offered me any kindness.

When I was certain there was not a single shard of ceramic left, I scrubbed Jackal's floor on my hands and knees and moved on to Michal's and Hans's rooms, then the staircase and the small living room, where I had to pause because the floor was covered in what appeared to be black soot—ashes from the fireplace.

Another one of Hans's cruel jokes.

My face was suddenly flooded with heat, and my fingers curled into my palms. I was used to this feeling—this deep and painful anger—but this time, it frightened me because I couldn't shove it down. Instead, I let it erupt and used it as I dragged the ash-covered rug outside and heaved it over the rotting wooden fence. I swiped a log from the ground and began to beat the rug.

Plumes of dust blinded and choked me, and my fingers slipped on the loose bark, but I couldn't stop, and I didn't until the fence collapsed.

My chest ached with each panting breath as I staggered back, dropping the log at my feet. I screamed until my anger was gone and I had no strength left to stand. I fell to my knees, my throat raw, tears burning my eyes. The rage that had fed me turned to panic.

"No, no, no."

I got to my feet and moved the rug, which had fallen into the mud. It was ruined, and so was the fence. Two posts were broken, and the rotting rails that ran between them were shattered.

If my brothers came home and saw the fence broken, the punishment would be severe—likely a beating with the very log I used to destroy it.

How could I be so stupid!

I looked toward the Enchanted Forest, wondering how long until my brothers returned. Could I repair the fence in time? My eyes shifted to the pile of wood by the barn. Or could I hide it?

Something furry brushed my ankle.

"You wouldn't happen to know where I could find some wood, Mouse?"

She paused, looked up at me, and meowed, then took off, trotting toward the side of the house. I followed as she rounded the corner and found her sitting beside a pile of wood, but it was not wood for the fence. It was the kindling I'd gathered for the fire, and it lay beneath my eldest brother's window.

I thought I'd been pushed to my breaking point already, except now I knew otherwise.

This was my breaking point.

But it didn't feel like I had expected. It was not the anger that had stolen my sanity moments ago. This wasn't even emotion—it was a lack of it. I was no longer worried about what would happen if my brothers returned to find the fence broken or the rug destroyed, because neither of those things mattered, especially because I would not be here for them to punish.

I turned and walked down the sloping hill behind our cottage. At the very bottom, two rounded rocks marked where my mother and father lay. I continued past them, knowing if I stopped, I would succumb to the guilt that had kept me obedient.

I followed a worn and familiar trail through the woods. These were not the same ominous trees and dark pines of the Enchanted Forest. There was a creek at the bottom, and I followed it as it twisted and turned through more rolling hills, all covered in decaying leaves and pine needles. I walked until my calves hurt and my feet ached. I could tell when I was near my destination because the sky seemed to open up before me, and as I came to the cliff's edge, it was truly endless. The clouds hung heavy and low, casting large shadows over the rocky valley below. That was my destination, where the earth would cradle my body, eat my flesh, and consume my bones.

I thought that sounded beautiful. Peaceful even.

I desired anything but what lay behind me.

Sand and stones tumbled over the cliff as I inched closer, until the tips of my toes hung over the edge. A wave of dizziness rushed to my head, and my legs shook. I should have closed my eyes, but I didn't. Instead, I spread my arms wide, letting the cold wind wash over me, and as I did, it began to snow.

"Are you going to kill yourself?"

The sudden sound of a strange voice drew my attention. I turned my head to find a man standing near. He was handsome with large blue eyes and dark hair, but he was almost too pretty. His skin was unmarred by sun or scars, and his lips were full and pillowy, not cracked and dry. He wore a heavy wool cloak, and though it concealed what he wore beneath, I suspected his sleeves were threaded with gold. He held a hat against his chest. A long red feather was stuck in the band.

I looked away and answered, "I have not decided."

"It would be a shame," he said.

I thought I could feel him draw nearer.

"You are too beautiful to die."

"That is a foolish thing to say," I said. "Death does not care about beauty."

If he had, he would not have taken my mother or my father.

He would have taken my brothers.

"Every man cares about beauty," he replied.

"You believe death is a man?"

"Do you think a woman can take a life?" he returned.

"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze. "At the very least, I could take my own."

"Why do I get the feeling you would just to prove me wrong?"

"You are vain, my lord," I said. "This is not about you at all. Now if you would kindly leave me to my death."

"I couldn't possibly leave now that I know your intentions."

"Why not? Do you want to watch?"

"No, I hope to change your mind."

"You won't," I said. "I have decided."

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you jumped?"

"Because you have interrupted my concentration."

"Ending your life doesn't sound like something that needs concentration."

"So you have tried before?"

"Well, no."

"Then how would you know?"

"By deduction," he replied. "Hard things require concentration. Jumping off a cliff isn't hard."

"I suppose that depends on your definition of hard. The ground is quite solid."

The man chuckled, and there was a glint in his eyes I had never seen in anyone else's, but that was because this man was not burdened with the worry of surviving. He probably carried a silver spoon in his pocket, and while he had likely used it all his life, it had not given him a silver tongue.

"You are quite clever," he said.

"Too clever to die?" I asked.

"No one is too clever to die," the man replied.

"Once again, you speak for death," I said. "Worse, you believe he values beauty over genius."

"Beauty is genius," said the man. "Surely, it sways you."

"Sways? No," I said. "I have met many beautiful, terrible people."

"I suppose I have too," he said and then paused. "So what is it, then, that you value?"

"Kindness," I said.

I expected the lord to laugh, but he didn't, and when I looked at him, his eyes had changed.

"Has anyone ever been kind to you?"

I looked away. I could not face his pity.

"A long time ago."

"Have I been kind to you?"

"I hardly know you," I said.

"Would you give me time to show you I can be kind?"

"We will not see each other again beyond this moment," I said.

"Because you intend to die?"

"Yes," I said. "But even if I lived."

He paused for a moment, inching closer. I considered what I would do if he reached for me. Would I jump to spite him, or let him pull me close?

"Would you be treated poorly if I saw you again?"

I did not answer.

"What if I took you from this place?"

I was surprised by the sound that came out of my mouth—a guttural laugh.

"I could not leave even if I wanted to."

"Why not?"

"Because—" I started, but when I could think of no reason, I paused. "Just because."

"I would keep you safe," he said.

"I do not even know that word," I said. "And I do not know you."

He held my gaze with those beautiful blue eyes. They were startling, and while I had never seen the eyes of the fae I had yearned for the last seven years, they reminded me that I had once dreamed of meeting his gaze and discovering his eyes were the same icy shade.

The man extended his hand.

I did not take it, but he waited.

Finally, I relented, startled by how soft his fingers were, and I immediately felt flushed, aware of how rough my own were.

"I am Prince Henry from the Kingdom of Rook," he said and pressed his lips to my red and swollen knuckles. Then he lifted his gaze to mine and smiled. "Now we are not strangers."

"Your name does not make us anything more than acquaintances," I said.

"Usually when one offers a name, the courteous thing to do is give yours," he said.

"You must do this often then," I said.

"Meet strange girls in the woods who want to end their life? No," he said. "I must admit, this is a first for me."

I tried not to smile at him.

I didn't want to smile at him.

"Samara," I said.

"Samara," he repeated, grinning. "Was that so hard?"

"Terribly," I replied.

"Samara," he said again. "Let me take you away from this horrible place."

I shook my head. "And trade my situation for what? Something far worse? Never."

"I do not think becoming my wife would be worse."

"Your wife ?"

"Marry me," he said.

"You are delusional," I said.

"I am not."

"You just met me. I'm a strange girl in the woods, remember?"

"Yes, and you are very enchanting."

"Did you eat mushrooms?"

He opened his mouth but hesitated. "That's not the point. The point is I would like to offer you a better life."

"There are other ways to do that than marriage."

"If you will not marry me, then come away with me to Rook. I can give you a better life, and perhaps, after some time, you will agree to be my wife."

"Why? Why would you want to rescue me?"

"Because despite what you believe, there are kind people in the world, Samara."

I stared at this man—this strange man who had found me in the woods.

"You will have to ask my brothers," I said. "It will not be easy."

"Am I correct that it isn't because they love you dearly?"

"If that were the case, you would not have convinced me with so little effort."

"You call that little effort?" he asked, though his eyes sparkled with mirth. "I practically had to beg."

"I'm sure it must have been difficult for you to be told no," I said. "First time?"

He chuckled. "Unfortunately no," he said and then grew a little more serious. "I know you must think poorly of me given my title, but I intend to show you we are not all so terrible."

"It is just like a prince to presume to know my mind," I said, but the statement had no power behind it, because the prince was right—I did not have a high opinion of him or any who ruled by right of blood.

Henry smiled. "Do not worry about your brothers," he said, tugging on my hand. "I will make them an offer they cannot refuse."

I allowed him to lead me away from the cliff, down the balding path and into the woods where a beautiful horse waited. I had never seen one with such a coat and mane—white with black spots.

"Oh, he is beautiful," I said.

"Thank you," Henry replied, taking the reins. "Her name is River."

"Oh," I said, blushing. "I'm sorry."

"Do not worry. She is not offended," he said. "Come, I will help you up."

"I do not need help," I said.

I knew how to ride a horse.

I put my left foot in the stirrup and held the pommel as I swung my right foot over, sinking into the saddle with ease. When I met the prince's gaze, his cheeks were tinged with pink.

"You," he said and then cleared his throat. "You do not want to sit sidesaddle?"

"No. Why would I?"

He rubbed the back of his head. The redness had spread to his ears.

"Well, you are in a gown," he said. "And riding astride shows your…legs."

"My legs?" I looked down, seeing that my dress had ridden up to the tops of my knees. I hadn't noticed it because I was used to it, but suddenly I realized why the prince was so embarrassed.

"Haven't you ever seen a woman's legs before?" I asked.

"Well, yes, but—"

"But mine make you nervous?"

"Not nervous," he said.

"So they offend you?"

"No, of course not," he stammered. "They are very nice legs. You…have very nice legs."

I stared at him, smirking.

"Forget I said anything at all," he said, putting on his hat.

"I will never," I said, as he mounted River, but my amusement died as soon as he was seated behind me.

I had never been so close to a man before, never felt another body against my own like this. He was warm, and as he reached past me to take the reins, I felt like I could sense his strength in the hard muscles of his chest and arms. It was the first time I found myself thinking about what was beneath the finery of his clothing.

Suddenly, I was the one blushing.

"Ready?" he asked.

I went rigid when I felt his breath on my ear, and all I could do was nod, humiliated by my sinful thoughts.

He chuckled as he tugged on the reins. I didn't dare ask him what was so funny, because I knew that if he tried to guess my thoughts this time, he would finally be right.

I did not speak beyond offering the prince directions to the cottage, too focused on every part of my body that touched him. It was an odd feeling, to be so close to a stranger. I found myself studying his hands as he held the reins before me. They were…normal. Not overly large but graceful. His nails were trimmed short and clean, and he had no cuts or scars.

A strange disappointment blossomed in my stomach.

"Do you have a sword?" I asked.

"Why? Already planning my demise?" he asked.

"I just wondered if you used it," I said.

"When the occasion calls for it," he said. "Why?"

"Because…your hands are soft."

"You think my hands are soft?"

"It isn't a thought," I said. "I know."

The prince was quiet for a moment.

"You have a strange way of making me feel very insecure," he said.

"It was only an observation," I said.

He lifted his hand, and I could not help but flinch. He quickly lowered it again.

"I won't hurt you," he said, his voice gentle, yet I did not believe him.

"So you say."

"I will prove it in time," he said.

There was a part of me that wanted to hope he was honorable and would keep his word, but I had already let myself hope once, and it had only led to disappointment.

"You may not want to after you meet my brothers."

We were silent after that, and I found myself worrying over what my brothers would say when they arrived home to find a handsome prince asking for my hand in marriage. I was certain they would not expect it, because they did not think it possible that anyone could ever want me. I was not even sure this was real. Maybe it was just one of Hans's cruel pranks.

Why would a prince of Rook be wandering through the woods in Gnat alone? The longer I thought, the more suspicious I grew, and my body responded in kind. I straightened my back and leaned forward, attempting to put as much distance between me and the prince as I could, though the horse did not allow for much, and the prince only tightened his hold around my waist.

"Do not be afraid," he said.

"I don't know how," I said.

"You do not know how?" he repeated.

"I have only ever been afraid," I said.

Again Henry did not speak, and I was certain he did not know what to do with me.

Once we came to the creek, the prince led River along the bank, up and down every hill, past my mother's and father's graves, to the doorstep of my weathered cottage where my three brothers waited. They each carried a weapon—Hans an axe, Michal a bow, and Jackal a sword.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Michal.

The prince dismounted and then held his hand out for me. I did not take it and instead slipped off River's back and put distance between him, myself, and my brothers.

"Good sirs," he said, taking off his feathered hat and holding it to his breast. "I am Prince Henry of the Kingdom of Rook. I happened upon your sister in the wood, and I would like to have her to wife. What say you?"

There was a long pause, and Hans was the first to laugh, followed by Michal, but what scared me the most was that Jackal had yet to speak or even blink.

"You want to marry our sister?" Hans asked, still laughing. "You'd be better off marrying a pig!"

"Aye," said Michal. "And a pig is prettier."

"I am certain we are not speaking of the same woman," said the prince, whose voice was stern.

"He has been bespelled!" said Michal.

"Enchanted, I assure you," said the prince.

"Prince," said Hans. "You have looked upon the fae, and they have given you false eyes!"

"I have gazed upon no fae," said the prince. "I have only the assurance that I have met my future wife, your sister. I will ask once again for her hand in marriage."

There was a quiet pause after the prince finished speaking.

Michal shook his head in disbelief. "Are you hearing this, Jackal?"

It wasn't until I heard my eldest brother's name that I looked up, catching his cold stare before he turned his attention to the prince, angling his head so that he appeared curious.

"Tell me, Prince," said Jackal. "What do you want in a wife?"

The prince hesitated. "I suppose I have not given it much thought."

"How can you want my sister to wife if you don't even know what you want?"

"Because I can see her," replied the prince.

"So this is about fucking," said Michal. "If that is the case, there is the barn."

"Are you suggesting I am dishonorable?"

"No, Prince, but you are a man," said Michal.

"A man, perhaps, but I would never dishonor a woman in such a way, especially one I intend to marry. Now, I will ask for your blessing a final time. Allow me your sister's hand in marriage, and you will be rewarded handsomely."

There was silence.

"Handsomely, you say?" asked Jackal. "What have you to offer in exchange for our dear, dear sister?"

"I will bring you three treasures from my father's vault. A golden ring, a singing lark, and an enchanted rose."

"What use would we, three starving hunters, have for a ring, a bird, and a rose?"

"Then I shall bring you gold and silver," Henry said. "And everything else I have named shall go to your sister."

"Bring us gold and silver," said Jackal. "And you can have our sister as a wife."

"Do I have your word?"

"You have my word," said Jackal. "We shall wait for your arrival at sunrise—and not a moment past or our agreement is forfeit."

The prince turned to me, and my eyes widened.

"I will think of nothing but you until we are reunited at dawn."

He glanced at my brothers before he secured his hat, mounted his horse, and rode off, feather bouncing as he went.

"Do you think he'll be back?" asked Hans.

Michal scoffed. "Not a chance. He will return to his golden castle on his golden hill and forget she ever existed."

It was something I did not doubt.

Jackal shoved past Michal and Hans as he came for me. I stumbled back and fell to the ground at his approach.

"What do you think you are doing?" he snarled, looming over me with hate-filled eyes.

"N-nothing," I said. "I didn't do anything!"

He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to my feet, but I had grown so used to the feeling, I didn't even cry out. I just followed as he pulled.

"Did you seduce him?" he demanded.

"No! I would never!"

I didn't know how.

"Liar!" he accused. "You fucked him, didn't you?"

"I swear I didn't!" I said. "I swear upon the graves of our parents!"

His grip tightened, and he leaned closer to me, his eyes full of such hate, I could feel the heat of it burning me from the inside out.

"If I so much as sense a baby in your belly, I will slice you open and tear it out," he said, and then he shoved his knee into my stomach, and I felt a burst of pain and nausea all at once.

He released me, and I fell to the ground, curling into myself as he landed another blow to my stomach before Michal grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Stop, Jackal!" he said. "What if you kill her and the prince returns?"

"If the prince returns, then he can carry away her corpse," he said.

"Aye, he may, but will he pay?" said Michal. "Besides, it is nearing sundown, and I am starved. Who will cook for us if she is dead?"

I was so consumed trying to breathe through the pain, I didn't know if Michal's words had swayed my brother, but in some ways, I didn't care. If this was to be my end, at least eventually, there would be no pain.

"Get up!" Jackal commanded suddenly, and I peeled open my eyes to find all three brothers standing over me.

I held my stomach tightly, fighting the nausea as I got to my feet.

"Feed us, wash the rug, fix the fence, and do not dream of sleep until you are certain you are done, or I will have you dancing to your death in iron-hot shoes."

Jackal turned and entered the house. Michal offered me a strange look—not pity but interest. He'd never considered the possibility that I might bring them wealth. Hans spit in my face before he turned to leave, laughing maniacally as he headed into the house.

Once they were inside, I bent at the waist and vomited all over my feet.