Chapter One

1695

Sébastien couldn't remember the last time he'd completely relaxed and had nothing to worry about. He knew it was before Mother and Enzo died. Sleep was a facade of what he no longer remembered.

Peace.

The real thing had been wrecked the day they received the news at home that Enzo and Margot were dead due to a terrible werewolf attack. The rest had been destroyed that night when Father and Remere shut themselves away in their rooms, leaving Sébastien alone for Corentin to ruin.

It was nice to sort of pretend nothing was wrong with the warmth of Remus's back against his chin and the rhythm of Whisper's hooves. He hovered on the edge, neither truly awake nor asleep, and he even forgot where the warmth came from.

He flinched awake to see the brightening sky, the trees sprinkled around them, the dirt road, and the back of Remus. Everything flooded back like always. Peace was an illusion.

The faint whisper of doubt said that Remus had thought about using and selling him like a bargaining chip.

But he'd gotten them both out. Not just himself. It wasn't even that Remus needed an extra sword because he could have killed Sébastien afterward. At that point, he truly didn't need Sébastien anymore, yet he stayed.

Remus had done more than most, and many would say he was completely trustworthy by then.

Then again, Sébastien never thought Uncle would betray him. Distrust stuck like dirt. Uncle had often hurt him one moment and been kind the next, depending on how it suited him. Anyone could be pleasant enough to lure another and get them in their grasp before dealing a painful blow whether mentally or physically.

There had been a kiss too. The night in the cabin…considering Remus's words, he'd suspected the Prince's past before.

He forced his head up and blinked. Curling up on a patch of grass and sleeping for twelve straight hours sounded like a pleasant idea, not that they could stop for so long.

Remus shifted a little in the saddle. "We need to water Whisper and figure out…some kind of plan. After we check that out."

Sébastien dragged himself from his thoughts. A stream was ahead, and he noticed a tiny hut. Actually, the word hut was generous. It was an upside-down V of old branches propped and layered over a frame, and it looked ready to fall over. A few branches had been woven together to create a sort of door for the front. It appeared abandoned.

"I have money," Sébastien muttered. "In a belt under my clothes. If we need to pay someone off to keep quiet. We're too close."

"Don't take that out yet. It might be empty." Remus paused Whisper and slid down. "Stay there."

He approached the hut with his sword drawn. "If anyone's in there, we just want to get some water and be on our way."

Nobody answered, and he tried the triangular door. It fell over since the rope hinges were frayed and rotted. No bandits or terrified peasants huddled inside. Remus checked around the back and finally approached Whisper again.

"I don't think anyone's been there in ages. I guess it was a quick spot to stay for a traveler."

They needed to try and clean up the best they could. They had to cobble together a plan and keep going forward. Whisper needed water, and so did they. All three had to go forward although Sébastien would rather not think ever again. He kept remembering the letters he'd stuffed in his pockets along with the book.

He told himself the knowledge shouldn't hurt so much. He'd suspected the Regent was guilty of murdering the King in some way, and he might have been hoping and preparing beforehand in case things turned into war.

Just like he'd been hoping for a way to get his hands on his favorite nephew. Everything had been on Uncle's mind for years while day after day, he smiled at the rest of the family like he had no thoughts of taking Jean's throne.

"Come on. We need to clean ourselves." Remus's light tug on his wrist brought Sébastien back.

His face was so concerned. Sébastien shouldn't have said a word earlier and let the dam break even for a second. He'd nearly lost it there like the night when he'd stabbed Remus. Rage at the truth had made him weak, and the words had burst from him even though he'd sworn he'd never tell anyone again.

Now he'd be treated like a thing to be pitied. From a distance, of course. Remus was disgusted by him and just wasn't saying it. He didn't even know everything…

Remus's expression changed so fast when Sébastien pulled his wrist away that it ratcheted up his anger.

"Don't fucking-"

"What is that?" snapped Remus. "Under your sleeve. I felt it-"

Remus tried to snatch his arm again. Whisper jerked forward so fast that Sébastien almost lost his seat since he wasn't quite right in the saddle.

"Take them off!"

Sébastien grabbed the reins and righted himself as he trotted Whisper in an arc. "Don't fucking try to grab me like that!"

"I said to never wear those again." Remus's eyes blazed. "The last thing I need is for your eyes to go red again and for you to flip out while you get angry like-"

"I'm often angry. I don't need the fucking cuffs to be pissed. Haven't you fucking figured that out yet?"

"I know, and I know the reason, although I didn't know-" Remus cut off. "I'm trying to help you, but it makes things a bit harder when you put on fucking cursed jewelry that might send you over the edge. That shit does something to you when you're angry. How is that not clear?"

"I put them on just in case," Sébastien said as Whisper paused. "It's protection. I've worn them plenty of times with no issue."

Remus made a frustrated noise. "Cursed jewelry isn't going to protect you."

"Should I have left them behind? I imagine someone's going through my stuff back in our tent right now. How do you know if some idiot wouldn't try them on or even steal them?"

Remus paused as he seemed to think about that. "Put them in the saddlebag, and do not put them on again. For Elira's sake."

Sébastien pushed up his sleeves to wrestle them off.

"Is this because you didn't trust me? Did you think I was going to kill you before we went into Calmerra?"

That thought had occurred despite everything Remus had done for him. Maybe entering the scene where their Fathers died would be too much. Besides, they'd been entering an area where criminals lurked like flies. He didn't answer as he dropped the cuffs in the saddlebag and dismounted.

"I should throw those things in the ocean," said Remus.

"You won't because I want to find out more about them." Sébastien had fibbed a little because he'd known before something was wrong with them.

"Why is that important? They're cursed, and you already know they make you flip out. Isn't that enough?"

Sébastien stroked Whisper's neck. "What if they're safe for someone else?"

Remus shrugged and started undoing his outer shirt. The sleeves of both were tattered and burned. "I don't know. What if you can't find anything about them? I doubt someone left instructions for them lying around. We've got other things to worry about."

"Perhaps they're meant for werewolves." Sébastien had planned to bring them along before and see if a werewolf could use them.

Remus paused with his buttons. "Werewolves don't often wear anything except maybe drawers in town…to cover up their stuff. Even then, they don't always want to. They don't care about stuff like that."

"Werewolves have been in South Sea for a long time. Not in such numbers like now, but there were a few before the war there. Maybe they were never intended for a fairy to use."

If they fed his anger somehow, that was a curse. It was probably why he got a sharp pain in the skin of his chest above his heart. It wasn't a heart issue, and nothing was wrong with his bones, muscles, or skin. He'd started getting it while angry after wearing the cuffs originally, although he hadn't connected the things just yet.

At first, he hadn't connected the fit either. One wasn't the end of the realm. It was far-fetched, and the cuffs weren't quite big enough for a werewolf to put on without a lot of work. He'd still wondered if they were meant for werewolves and a curse for fairies because of the anger.

Remus cocked his head. "What did you plan to do before?"

"Hm?"

"Say I was still at home right now, what would you be doing?"

"I imagine I'd have had to fight my way out of Calmerra alive. If I failed, I'd be dead."

"No." Remus raised a finger. "You didn't know for sure that the Regent was going to make you a Duke. What if he hadn't?"

"Honestly, I suspected he would quite a while ago. It was the perfect way to get me out of the Palace, set me free in a way, lay some traps, and see what happens. You know there's always a treason charge if I survive everything. You were someone to plant at my side in the hopes I'd die at a Rowland's hand."

"And if he didn't? The closer you got to twenty-five, the more dangerous it would grow."

"I planned to flee, take a passenger boat to Midland, and another to Rowland," replied Sébastien. "My only chance would be to hope the werewolves would follow me. I didn't have many options. You were a surprise, and that changed things so I worked with it. If I'd managed to escape Soleil on my own and made it to South Sea, I would have brought the cuffs."

He knew he'd just admitted the truth, and Remus narrowed his eyes. "You did know there was something wrong with them before."

"It was quite minor. Before, I never flipped out like what you've seen. I mean, I never tried to kill anyone."

Remus looked like he wanted to tear out his hair. "You still kept wearing them after you stabbed me that night. You went into a total rage."

Sébastien pointed at him. "I did go into a rage, but I truly thought you'd whored me out to that demon bastard as a way to get back at me. I still would have tried to kill you anyway. I've told you I'm angry. I've been angry, and I don't need any fucking jewelry to do that!"

His voice rose in a yell.

"You try living with your rapist for years while knowing they'll kill you at some point!" Whisper turned more toward him with his head lowered as Sébastien stepped away, not even wanting him. "See what lengths you'd go to keep yourself safe! The cuffs offered a little protection even though they came from that bastard, and if a werewolf could use them or if there was any way I could use them better-I've kept them for that and because when the real rage kicked in, I didn't feel shit when Paltua was attacking me. It didn't hurt until afterward."

"You didn't tell me that-"

"I'm done!" If Sébastien had to discuss anymore at that moment…he wanted to kick or punch something to vent himself. Except he'd feel it. It wouldn't be like the night with the glass in his knuckles and his shattered reflection.

The unicorn got in front of him and rested his head on Sébastien's shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around his neck and stared at his silver fur and mane.

"We won't talk about it right now," Remus said in a placating voice. "I'm not trying to upset you. I just-"

It would seem stupid to keep cursed items around, but Sébastien had been trying to work with what he had in a place where he'd been entirely alone. Remus wouldn't fully get it all especially when he didn't know.

"We have to go," Sébastien said, trying to focus on their current predicament.

Remus tossed his shirt near the edge of the stream and coughed. "We need to wash ourselves first because we don't look like simple travelers. We're filthy and look like we came from a fire." He glanced in the direction of Calmerra, not that they could see it from their location. "If you want, I'll go into the woods where I can't see you. I'll stay in earshot, and when you're done, you can shout and go in the hut to dry while I wash."

"Our clothes are disgusting too."

Remus scratched his cheek. "We'll wash our stuff and make do. We haven't got anything else. At least everything's black so stains won't be noticeable. We won't smell and look like we just ran out of a house fire."

Getting naked outside in the middle of nowhere wasn't Sébastien's idea of fun. It wasn't like they had much choice. Whisper drank upstream while Remus walked off into the trees.

"Shout if you see anyone or anything."

Sébastien tried to hurry as he stripped down and washed his clothes in the running water. He did his best although washing clothes hadn't been on the list of things to learn while growing up.

He spread the items on the bank after wringing them out. They didn't have soap since Sébastien hadn't planned on them needing to haul ass in the night. He'd brought the money belt because before entering Midland, he'd decided to start wearing it in case he ever needed to run at a second's notice or was separated from the rest for whatever reason. Honestly, he'd been planning for them to return to camp last night.

Plans didn't always work out.

A flat, smooth stone worked when he rubbed it on his skin instead of a cloth and soap. He took special care to dunk his hair in the water and make sure it was clean along with his face since he couldn't see it. Sand from the stream bed made a decent scrub too since the soot wasn't easy to get off.

A couple of times, he had to cough against the back of his hand since some of the smoke and soot from that foul place had gotten into his lungs. Once no more black smears marked his skin, he sat in the cold water and tried not to think. He'd needed to slot all of the pieces back into place, raise the defenses, and think ahead.

It was like something had cracked under the strain, and his eyes burned even though he hadn't cried in years. Tears meant nothing just like he was nothing.

While his mind whispered not to trust, the kiss had said a lot. It was almost like Remus thought he was…more than a piece to use. It had been after Sébastien had admitted something he'd never planned to tell Remus.

Sometimes, he had to work with the current circumstances and figure things out as he went. He didn't like going against a plan like that, but something had burst against his wishes when Remus asked if Corentin had been the one.

He thought about Corentin plotting to be rid of his brother and living nephews as his eyes wandered to where he'd left the book on the bank with the notes folded inside. When he realized he was an obstacle to be swept away so Corentin could have the throne, Sébastien had wanted to believe the idea had only come after Jean and Remere's death.

Before, Uncle had seemed truly close to Jean. They'd grown up together, and there should have been some sort of brotherly bond. As far as Sébastien could see, not once had Corentin done anything to his brother. Jean had trusted him wholeheartedly.

He hadn't wanted to believe that Uncle had been responsible for Jean's death. Remere's had been a misfortune in war. If he'd lived, Corentin would have dealt with him later.

But of course, he shouldn't have tried to convince himself that Uncle hadn't planned everything and took opportunities as they came. Any man who abuses his brother's child doesn't love his brother either. Jean had unwittingly provided something for Corentin's sick desires. The youngest had been the most beautiful and the best to satisfy what couldn't be openly had in society. Lucky Corentin, with a pretty nephew who looked so young at the age of fourteen.

Enzo wouldn't have remained silent. Remere probably wouldn't have either. The favored of Uncle had been easy to manipulate once he'd been saddled with grief and the remains of the family had been too busy dealing with their own to notice the youngest wasn't the same anymore.

The last time Corentin had seen Father, he'd pretended to look forward to his return. They'd have peace. He'd fucking smiled at Father and hugged him, knowing Jean would soon drink tainted wine along with a bunch of other men, including fellow Soleilians, and die.

He needed to get out of the water since it wasn't doing enough to numb him the way he wanted, but he was so damn tired. Tired of always having to think and stay ahead. Tired from years of sitting next to his abuser in silence and speaking to him as if nothing had happened so they could keep up appearances for the court and public. Tired because no one had protected him, and he'd always had to keep himself together.

Everyone thought he was spoiled for no reason, angry over nothing, frozen, bitter, and ruined while not seeing the reason that spoke down to him and painted him as trouble, lazy, and unworthy of the crown coming his way.

That led to anger like it always did, and the little point of pain came to his chest as usual. His back ached slightly from being in the saddle for hours with no sleep while trying to be unyielding like the smooth stone still in his hand. The backs of his eyes stung with disgust at himself.

That made the anger worse, and he rubbed in a small circle on his chest. It never soothed the feeling. Since it had come after the cuffs, he'd finally realized something about them wasn't right. The cuffs had still seemed safe enough to wear even if they seemed to make his anger worse. Or perhaps it was everything coagulating in his head. Either way, anger could be a tool, and something to protect against a sword strike was excellent to have since the cuffs were easy to hide under clothes.

A minor curse in exchange for his life? Easy. He'd only planned to get rid of them if Uncle was dead because he wanted nothing from Corentin.

He finally set the stone down on the bank, squeezed his hair, and took his wet clothes toward the hut before he shouted for Remus to wash up.

Leaning the door against the entrance was the best he could do. Old, dry grass lined the inside, and he gingerly sat. Please, no rats or gross bugs. The last thing he needed was to get bitten on the ass.

Nothing squeaked or scuttled as Remus went by. Sébastien laid his clothes next to him and tried to spread them out a bit. They'd take ages to dry even though the hut had little cracks and tiny gaps between the branches. There wouldn't be enough airflow. Thankfully, he couldn't be seen since it was dark inside. He looked up and happened to notice Remus through a sliver of space. He'd taken off his second shirt, which was likely cleaner, and was lowering his trousers. The curve of his muscular ass appeared.

Sébastien had already seen him naked at the Palace. There was nothing small about that man, and he hastily stared at his knees in the dark, mottled with teeny patches of shifting sunlight.

He was trying to think ahead and push things back into a box somewhere in his head when Remus's voice made him jump.

"I'm going to sit on that rock and dry unless you want me to go back into the woods so you can sit in the sunlight with your stuff."

He'd stand naked in the woods so Sébastien could have privacy? "And if a hunter or traveler happens to come along and see your naked arse among the trees? How do you plan to explain what you're doing?"

"Uh…I'd run at him. A big nude guy in the woods running after you must be crazy, right? They'd haul ass and never come back."

"Just stay there."

"Your clothes aren't going to dry as fast as mine. I laid them out in the grass in the sunlight. If you want to crack the door open a bit and toss them out, I'll give them back when they're dry enough."

Being stuck without clothes nearby didn't make Sébastien feel comfortable. Then again, if anything happened, it wasn't like he'd have proper time to dress. "Fine."

He held the door up so it wouldn't fall over, cracked it open, and poked his things out. Remus took them. It grew quiet except for birds chirping, and he caught a sliver of Remus's back as he sat on the rock. His moving tattoos had drifted up to his shoulder blades.

Sébastien hugged his knees and stared ahead.