Chapter Six The Kingdom of Larkspur

Chapter Six

The Kingdom of Larkspur

Lore

A comb .

I gave her a knife, and she cut off my hand.

The goblin king gave her a comb, and she put it in her hair.

I stomped ahead of Samara and the fox, breaking branches and cutting down thorny vines. It allowed me to channel my frustration but also made the path easier to follow for Samara, who could not see like I could see in the dark.

What use was a comb? I thought.

It certainly was not as helpful as a knife, especially one that could cut anything in two, yet if I had given her a comb seven years ago, perhaps I would still have my hand and a shred of dignity among my six other brothers, who all found it immensely entertaining that I had given my beloved a weapon to use against me.

But they had not watched her toil in the mud and cold of a bog for hours. They had not heard how her brothers berated and belittled her. They'd not listened to her in the dead of night when she divulged her desires. They did not understand, because they had never sacrificed themselves for anyone or anything.

I could not wait until they fell in love, though it was rumored that Casamir, my seventh brother, had taken the beast we sent his way, the woman who had killed our sixth brother, as his bride.

She had been an angry and lonely thing, but she had fallen in love with him and broken his curse.

I was not so lucky.

Samara did not love me. She did not even know I was the one who had given her the knife. But she was the apple of my eye, and because of that, she was the only one who could make the wish that would free me from the curse of love.

"I know you are eager to find the wishing tree," said the fox, walking up beside me as I slayed another shrub. "But your lover is dead on her feet."

"Do not call her that," I snapped.

"Do not call her what, Prince? They shall both be true, one sooner than the other, depending on you."

I glared at the fox, but I could not help glancing over my shoulder to see her stumbling about, barely lifting her feet from the ground as she followed far behind me.

"She struggles, yet she says nothing," I said. "I cannot decide if she is brave or afraid."

"She is both, Prince," said the fox. "She does not tell you because she is not used to anyone caring about her pain."

"I am not her brothers."

"Right now, you are like them," said the fox. "You are angry with her, and since you left the elfin hill, you have pretended as though she does not exist."

There was no pretending.

I couldn't escape her. Even as she walked behind me, I knew she was there. I was attuned to every move she made—every small breath and every beat of her heart—but the fox was right. Shame poured over me, heavy and thick. I slowed beneath its weight until I stopped, turned, and went to her.

Her heavy eyes lifted to mine and widened as she came to a stop.

"I'll be quicker, I promise," she said, taking a step back.

The alarm in her voice was upsetting, because I had scared her. In the face of her fear, my frustration was not important.

"You do not have to be quick," I said. "Let me carry you."

"I do not want to be a burden," she said.

"You have been awake too long, and you need rest. We will not reach a safe place to stay for another few miles," I said, having already decided that I would venture into my brother's kingdom, the Kingdom of Larkspur. I dreaded the visit, but the fucker had soft beds and breakfast, two things I doubted Samara had in a long time. "Let me carry you."

I waited for her response, overwhelmed by the urge to touch her.

Finally, she nodded and held my gaze as I shifted closer. When I placed my hand on her back, she felt rigid.

"Be at ease, Samara," I said. "I am not angry with you."

"Perhaps not this second," she said. "But you are angry."

I said nothing, because that was true.

"Put your arms around my neck," I said as I bent and picked her up. Up until this moment, I had been able to mostly ignore the phantom pain shooting from my stump up my right arm in favor of my anger, but now it was all I could feel—that and the fact that Samara's face was only inches from mine. It made me think of how close I'd come to kissing her beneath the elfin hill, something I had dreamed about for seven long years.

Something that had cursed me for just as long.

Maybe holding her was a terrible idea.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

My brows rose, surprised by her question. Looking at her now, I could not figure out why I'd been so angry with her.

"I am okay," I said. "Why do you ask, wild one?"

"Because you are staring," she said.

I smiled a little. "I am just admiring you."

She said nothing, but her expression was suspicious, as if she believed there was nothing about her to appreciate. I did not know how to help her see herself the way I did—beautiful and kind, someone worthy of more than I was even capable of giving.

"Sleep, Samara," I said. "I will take care of you."

She watched me for a few more minutes before closing her eyes, and I started our journey again, the fox trotting ahead. I was conflicted as I held her, torn between comfort and anguish. My body had yet to let go of the feeling she'd stirred up in the grove, and having her this close only brought everything rushing back.

I had wanted to kiss her, but I could not bring myself to do it, too afraid I would scare her away, but my greatest hesitancy was that she did not know who I was.

She did not know that I was the hand with the knife.

"In the grove under the elfin hill," she said.

Her voice sounded like a scream in the quiet night, and her eyes remained closed. I did not know if she could no longer keep them open or if she did not want to look at me as she spoke. My heart raced as I waited for the rest of her words, realizing that she too was thinking about the same thing.

She continued, "When we danced and you said my name…was that a spell?"

"A spell?" I was confused and also disappointed.

"Fox said that names have power," she explained. "When you said my name…I felt…like I had lost control."

I swallowed hard. I had felt that way since I met her.

"No," I said. "It was not a spell."

Her body felt heavier after that, as though she had finally given in to comfort.

There came a point in our journey when I turned from the fox's path toward the Kingdom of Larkspur, where Cardic, my second brother, ruled.

He was exactly as his name suggested—a dick.

"Prince! That is not our way," the fox said.

"It is our way now," I said. "We will rest for the night."

At least Samara would rest. I did not trust my brother enough to sleep in his territory.

"Are you certain, Prince?" asked the fox. "This will be unpleasant for you."

I was very aware, but as I held Samara in my arms, the desire to give her comfort exceeded mine. "I am certain."

Though with each step, the dread of our arrival grew and grew.

Ahead, I could see glimmering lights in the trees. They were the warmly lit windows and flickering lanterns of the fae who resided in Larkspur, the kingdom in the trees. A bridge marked the start of Cardic's realm, and I walked it as it twisted through the branches. It was a slow climb to his palace, past homes belonging to many kinds of fae—dryads but also wood elves, green men and goblins.

Something zipped past me, striking my face.

I knew what it was the moment I heard the distinct whir of their wings.

"Fucking pixies," I growled.

Cardic used their mischief and turned them into weapons. They attacked anything that came near him, even invited guests. He found it humorous, and the pixies enjoyed pleasing him, likely because they were in love with him.

I wondered what would happen if they discovered he was incapable of love.

Another pixie raced by. This time, I could feel her claws cut my face.

I ground my teeth as anger bloomed in my chest. I wanted to snatch them from the air and crush them into a nasty pulp, but as it turned out, I didn't have to, because as soon as another flew by, Fox jumped, capturing the pixie in his mouth.

He swallowed it whole.

That was the end of their attack.

Finally, Cardic's palace came into view. I was only relieved because my phantom limb had started to burn. Despite having no fingers at all, I could feel the fire in each digit. I grit my teeth against the pain, as I usually did, and I started up the many steps leading to its entrance. His home was crafted and carved into a great, ancient oak that seemed to reach to the stars, vanishing into the darkness above. Over time, the sturdy branches had grown thicker and fuller, further encapsulating the stone facade of his castle. It had many open windows and great balconies, overrun with trailing vines and dangling moss, though to my great delight, I spotted a familiar vine with tear-shaped leaves. It was poison ivy.

I willed it to grow wilder, to creep into my brother's castle.

I hoped he would handle it and then pleasure himself.

It filled me with glee to think about the pain such a rash would cause him even as I approached the open, arched doorway of his castle for refuge. My legs and lungs burned, and I was hot and breathless, two things I despised unless I was having sex, something I had not done in a very long time, not since I had looked upon Samara. It was another side to the curse. I could be nothing but loyal to her. The very thought of fucking anyone else was…unimaginable. After tonight, I doubted we shared the same feeling. I wondered if she dreamed of the goblin king.

I held her tighter at the thought, my gaze falling to the comb he had given her. I wanted to pluck it from her hair and throw it into the dark abyss below my brother's kingdom.

"Do not do it, Prince," said the fox.

"How do you know what I am thinking?" I snapped.

"Because you growl more than me when you are angry," he replied.

I set my teeth, hoping to keep myself silent. Soon, we came to the final few steps, but before I could reach the top, something flew over my head.

I ducked and looked over my shoulder to see a dagger land and skid down the steps.

It seemed my brother had already been made aware of my arrival.

"You ill-bred, liver-eating bastard!" he shouted. "Give back my fucking fairy!"

"Shh!" I commanded as I lay against his steps, the edges digging into my ribs. I would right myself, but I was preparing for more daggers to be thrown my way.

"Are you…are you shushing me?" Cardic demanded. "On the steps of my own kingdom?"

"Shut up, you dull-headed, cunt-bitten coward," I said, my voice a raspy whisper. "Or you'll wake her!"

"Wake who, you spitting, ill-tempered fool?"

I peeked over the final step to see my brother at the entrance of his palace, cast in shadow from the bright light behind him.

"Swear you will throw nothing my way," I said. "For what I carry is precious."

"No," said Cardic.

I scoffed. "You are a dick."

"And you are a bore," he said.

"Fuck you, dick," I said.

There was silence.

"Are you quite finished cowering?"

"I am not cowering !"

"Yes, you are."

The comment came from the fox, who was sitting above my head on the top step.

"Fuck off, you miserable excuse for a cat. He should throw daggers at you. You're the one who ate his fairy!"

Suddenly, the fox made a strange sound, almost like a gulp. Then he began to cough until at last he heaved, and the pixie he had swallowed burst from his mouth. She landed a few feet away in a pool of yellow bile. She rose, coughing and sputtering, and then burst into tears before flying away.

"There is your pixie," said the fox. "Now, will you welcome us in? Your brother has been carrying his mortal for quite some time."

"His mortal ?"

Finally, I rose to my feet with Samara in hand.

"What is that ?" Cardic asked, as if he were disgusted by the sight of Samara.

I bared my teeth. "Watch your tone, dick."

"Is this the girl you have pined over for seven long years?" he asked, his amber-colored eyes sparking with delight. After a few minutes, however, a slow smile spread across his smug face. "The one who cut off your hand and never spoke to you again?"

I wanted to tear out his throat, but I decided against it. I did not want to chance the retaliation of his pixies with Samara so near. My scowl deepened, and Cardic began to laugh.

He laughed so hard, he bent at the waist, bracing his hands on his knees.

He laughed so long, he turned red in the face, and I thought he might suffocate.

To my great disappointment, he didn't, and he soon composed himself, wiping at the tears on his face.

"I can't believe I almost killed you and missed this," he said, still chuckling between words.

"You didn't almost kill me," I muttered as I stepped past him into his palace. I made myself at home, turning to the right and walking along a robust bough that acted as a floor. I ducked beneath low limbs and dodged clusters of leaves. Hanging among the branches were round beds, shrouded in sheer, gauzy fabric. I chose one closest to the ground since Samara could not fly and knelt to lay her on the soft mattress before covering her with a blanket.

As I did, the fox hopped onto the bed.

"What do you think you're doing, Fox?" I asked.

"I am going to rest, Prince," he said. "Be at ease. I am just a fox."

The creature curled up, resting his chin on his tail. I glowered, my eyes falling to Samara, who had slept so soundlessly from the moment I took her into my arms in the Enchanted Forest. I marveled at how peaceful she looked. This was her, unburdened by worry or fear, and it was beautiful.

I brushed a stray piece of her hair from her pretty, rosy lips, and then she sighed and turned her head away.

I glared at the fox.

"You had better just be a fox," I threatened.

He opened his eyes long enough to roll them and then went back to sleep.

I left, turning to find my brother watching.

"So how did you come into possession of her?" he asked.

I ignored him, making my way back down the hall.

"Did you slip her belladonna and steal her away?"

"I did not slip her belladonna, and I did not have to steal her away," I snapped. "I rescued her from thieves outside the Enchanted Forest."

Cardic pursed his lips. "Well, that isn't very exciting."

"Luckily, I do not exist for your entertainment."

"You exist for nothing, Lore, save this girl. Perhaps now that you have her, you can become interesting again."

I ignored him.

"You used to be an adept hunter," he continued. "Do you even remember how to string a bow?"

"Would you like a demonstration?" I asked. "I'll send an arrow right through your eye."

Cardic scoffed. "Even your insults have gotten dull."

I walked ahead of him, back through the foyer of his palace and into the adjacent hall. I started to open doors.

"What do you think you are doing?" Cardic demanded.

"Looking for wine," I said. "You have to have it here somewhere."

"Don't open that!"

But it was too late. The door was open, and I was surprised. I turned to my brother and pointed at the room.

"Why do you have a library?"

It was a nice library, with rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves and leather-bound books.

"Because I read ," he said.

"Since when?" I asked. I had never seen Cardic with a book in my entire life, not even when we lived with Mother and Father in the Elder Kingdom.

"Since…a while," he said.

I narrowed my eyes, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have hobbies, Lore. I am a multifaceted being."

"Multifaceted?" I asked. I'd never heard my brother use such a word in his entire life.

"You are just jealous because you are… boring !"

"And you said my insults were dull."

I looked at the library and then back at him, narrowing my eyes.

"Are you… Did you meet someone? Are you in love?"

"What?" Cardic asked. "No…no. I am most definitely not."

I raised a brow.

"Fuck off," he said, and I grinned as he walked past me. I turned to follow.

"So," I said. "Tell me about her."

"No," he said, throwing open a door on his left.

"So you are in love with someone?" I asked.

"I am not in love!"

"You are lying," said a voice.

Cardic had entered his study, where a jagged piece of mirror hung over the fireplace. It had once been whole and displayed in my father's grand hall, but before his death, he shattered it into seven pieces and declared that whichever brother assembled it first would be king.

Only one of our brothers cared about becoming king, and that was Silas, yet none of us wanted to give up our piece of the mirror because of its magic, which showed us anything we desired.

The downside was that the mirror also talked.

"Shut up!" Cardic said. "Or I will shatter you into a million pieces!"

"Shatter me," said the mirror. "I will merely speak a million times more."

"Has he asked to see her? This woman he desires?"

"Of course," said the mirror. "Just as you have asked to see yours."

It was true that I had asked the mirror to show me Samara, but in my defense, I was cursed.

"Why can't you keep secrets?" asked Cardic.

"Because I am a mirror," the mirror said.

"Show me this woman," I said.

"Don't—"

The mirror rippled and gave way to a scene that shocked me even more than the library. I expected Cardic's love interest to be…well, like him, immoral and unholy, but the woman in the mirror was the opposite.

"Are you in love with a nun?" I asked.

I was pretty sure the woman I was looking at was a nun. She wore a black frock with long sleeves and a cowl on her head. Every part of her was covered, even her ankles, and she was sitting!

"She is not a nun!" he snapped.

"She looks like a nun," I said. "She is wearing a veil."

"She is not a nun!"

"She is praying , for fuck's sake, Cardic! You cannot have a nun!"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't have, you self-rutting, churlish… bastard !" he yelled, and then he punched me in the face.

I heard the mirror sigh.

"I knew you didn't read!" I shouted as I charged at him. He swung at me again, but I grabbed his arm with my hand and turned away from him, bringing my other arm down hard on his elbow.

Cardic howled.

I shoved my knee into his stomach, but he caught my leg.

"I fucking read!" he said as he bit my thigh.

I screamed and then shoved him away. He fell to the floor. I pounced as he tried to get to his feet, grabbing his ankle to jerk him back. He collapsed to the ground and rolled as I climbed over him, my hand going for his neck.

I didn't even know if I could choke him with one hand, but I was going to try, and I didn't know why—because he refused to acknowledge that the woman he wanted was a nun?

I started to laugh.

I laughed so hard that I could no longer fight, and when my brother pushed me off him, I didn't care. I fell onto my back, still laughing.

"I'm glad my pain amuses you," he said, which only made everything much funnier, and though Cardic pouted, it wasn't long before he laughed too.

"I can't believe you're in love with a nun," I said.

"I can't believe you brought the woman you've pined after for seven years to my palace," said Cardic.

"I can't believe I have to bear witness to this," said the mirror.

We both glared at the glorified windowpane, but as we settled into silence, a different sort of emotion consumed me. It was heavier than sadness, worse than dread.

It was sort of like grief because the moment Samara partook of the golden apple and wished me free, I would have nothing, and I was just starting to realize that at least loving her from afar was something .