17. This Pet Bites

Chapter 17

This Pet Bites

"At least we're still alive."

With an arched brow—because this body knew how to arch just one eyebrow—I looked around our new temporary home of cold, damp walls; oppressive iron bars; and a bit of straw on the floor that I may or may not have been sharing with the local rat population.

But I got what Nylian was saying. It could be a hell of a lot worse. I could be dead . They hadn't even bothered to rough us up after we were disarmed and bound in rope. Of course, I thought that had more to do with Nylian's convincing speech about not wanting to be responsible for starting a war.

If we were alive, it meant that we still had a chance at escaping and finding Orian's killer.

I thought about asking him how long he thought we'd be stuck in there, but I let the question go. He knew no more than I did at the moment, and he didn't need the pressure of trying to keep my spirits up. He'd already accomplished the hard task of keeping me alive.

The only thing that had me worried was that they'd taken all our belongings, including that damn magic coin. Before boarding the ship, I'd moved it from my coin pouch to a hidden pocket in the bottom of my pack. Could the elves sense the magic of the thing? If someone located the coin and stole it, there was no chance of me getting home. For now, I crossed my fingers and prayed it would go unnoticed.

It wasn't as if I were in a rush to leave this world. There was no way I was going to leave Nylian alone. He needed me. Maybe I wasn't sure why he needed me, but I was confident I could provide some critical help when he needed it most.

"Are you anxious, or do you just not want to use the bucket?" Nylian inquired, stopping my pacing in front of the bars midstride. Yes, we were back to a bucket for a bathroom. Lovely.

"No, I don't need to use the bucket," I replied with as much indignation as I could muster. Thankfully, it was enough to put a half smile on Nylian's face.

"Sit. Rest. We're not going anywhere anytime soon. We've spent most of the night running. No one is going to bother the king and queen with news of my capture until morning."

He was right. I couldn't imagine anyone wanting the job of waking a king in the middle of the night with news that could be good or bad.

Huffing at him, I shuffled across a cell that was three times the size of our ship cabin and plopped onto the pile of straw. I released a second sigh of relief when I didn't feel any additional movement under my ass.

"You know, this isn't my first stay in a dungeon."

My head popped up and turned so I could see his expression, half convinced he was making a joke, but he appeared to be serious.

"This one is even nicer than the one I stayed in before," the elf continued. "Fewer pools of standing water. Less moss growing on the walls."

"Who threw you in the dungeon?"

"My dad."

I choked on a laugh. "Your dad? The king of Wolfrest? He threw you in the dungeon?"

" Mn . Both Orian and me." Leaning his head against the wall, Nylian closed his eyes and a small smile grew on his lips. "It was years ago. When we were young and stupid."

"As opposed to now, when you're sooooo old and stupid."

He cracked one eye at me. "Two hundred and forty-seven isn't old in elf years, but yes, I know better now." He closed his eye again and continued his story. "Orian and I were feeling restless and reckless after being cooped up inside the castle for days on end for some random celebration. I don't even know what any longer. We decided to take the horses out for a ride. Orian challenged me to a race."

"Which, of course, you couldn't turn down," I interjected.

"Of course not."

"Where was the race held?"

"Through the middle of the afternoon market."

"Shit," I hissed, wincing.

"It was a complete mess." He sighed, his voice filled with nostalgic warmth. "Stalls and carts were overturned. Produce destroyed. We were lucky no one got hurt. Everyone was so angry. When we were hauled in front of my father, he was so infuriated he couldn't even speak in complete sentences. His face kept getting redder and redder like a tomato about to split."

"How long were you stuck in the dungeon?"

"Two days. Our mother heard about it. She came to tell us both what a disappointment we were, and how we'd embarrassed the entire family. Afterward, she spoke to father on our behalf and convinced him to release us. As punishment, we had to work one day a week in the market for a year. We served everyone who had a stall or a cart selling goods. Ran hundreds of errands, shoveled tons of manure, whatever was asked of us."

"You and Orian got the shit jobs. Literally."

"Yes. And then the day after market duty, we always had double training and double school lessons to make up for what we missed while working the market." He paused, and his grin grew a bit larger. "It was absolute misery for an entire year, but Orian made it tolerable. Even fun at times. We got to know so many of the people who called the capital home. He was always the more outgoing of us. He could chat with anyone and make them feel at ease. Orian said people could tell us apart because I was always scowling."

That was a little hard to believe. Other than those first couple of days together, it seemed like Nylian always had a smile teasing his lips when I looked at him. How could Orian be the cheerful twin?

"Why?" The single word was a whisper that sounded as if it had gotten caught in the back of his throat. "Why would someone target him? It doesn't make any sense. Everyone loves Orian. Loved…loved him. I'm the annoying one. The argumentative one. Orian was the calm, level-headed one. I'm the one who jumps in with my sword drawn."

Nylian's fist trembled as he raised it to pound on the ground, but I caught it before it could strike. With a squeeze, I dragged his watery eyes to my face. "How do you know he was the target?"

The elf blinked wide eyes at me. His lips parted, but there was only silence besides a distant drip of water.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded at last. His voice was still low, as if we were discussing secrets, and maybe we were.

"Walk me through that day. You said it happened during a duel."

Nylian nodded. "Someone had put poison on my blade, and it got into his bloodstream from a minor cut he suffered in the duel."

I waved my hands at him. "You've skipped too much." I turned on the straw to face him and rested my shoulder on the cold stone wall. "Did you and your brother duel often?"

"Yes, at least once a week if we were both in the castle. Sometimes more often."

"Same place?"

"Yes, if the weather was nice, there was a large courtyard we used. If the weather was poor, we took over the ballroom."

"So, it was likely common knowledge around the castle this happened?"

Nylian made an irritated, impatient noise, but nodded again. "Yes. I'm sure all the servants and most of the court knew about our duels, but we wouldn't let anyone in to watch. We didn't want the annoyance or distraction."

"Did you use the sword I see you carry?"

"No, of course not!" That answer was sharper. To the point where I was afraid he was going to hit me. But the elf controlled his temper and lowered his voice. "We have special dueling swords. They are lighter weight with a dull edge, so we can't accidentally harm one another."

"But of those dueling swords, you have one specific sword and Orian has another."

"No, not really. The swords are identical."

"So, you don't always fight with the same sword?"

"No, that's impossible." Annoyance was growing thick in his voice as he shifted to face me. "The dueling swords are identical in every way. They are stored together in a case that's kept with all the other training supplies. Usually, one of us tells a servant to fetch the swords and where to bring them. That day, the weather had been nice. We spent some time practicing some archery while we waited for the swords. When we were done, the swords were waiting on a table for us."

"Who chose a sword first?"

Nylian was on his feet in a flash, pacing our cell, making it feel smaller with every pass. "No," he snapped, no longer willing to even glance in my direction. "No. I know what you're thinking, and you are wrong." He turned and grabbed the iron bars with both hands with a hiss. "Orian would never…"

Swearing under my breath, I shoved to my feet and hurried across the short distance separating us. "You don't know what I'm thinking, and it's clear you're not thinking at all." I grabbed his wrists and violently ripped his hands away from the bars. Just from that short period of time, his fingers were already red and looked to be forming welts. Iron and the fae don't mix. I released one hand and smacked him in the middle of the forehead. "Don't be a dumbass. You need your hands."

"But you were implying…"

I ignored him for a second, running my thumbs across his palms and fingers, hoping to soothe away the damage he'd created while knowing deep down this was not helping in the slightest. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? I had no medicine or even clean water. It was bad enough I was psychologically poking about in what had to be the worst day of his life. There was no need to goad him into physically hurting himself.

"I was not implying," I said when the redness seemed to fade. After I released his hands, I lifted my eyes to meet his. "The point I'm trying to make is that you and your brother dueling was public knowledge. Countless people had access to those swords. Anyone could have put poison on the blade. This person could have been trying to kill you, not realizing that you and Orian don't always use the same blade. Or …" I paused, leaning in close to make sure he was paying attention, "they could have just wanted to kill one of you, not caring which prince died?"

Nylian stumbled away from me, shaking his head as he moved, but I still pressed on.

"What would your father have done if it had been you dead instead of your brother? Would he have exiled Orian? Would the same chaos have run through the Wolfrest court? Would your parents have suffered the same pain and devastation at your sudden death?"

"Stop," Nylian choked out and walked away from me to stand on the other side of the cell with his back to me.

"If not for an odd quirk of fate, I could be sitting in this cell with Orian right now rather than you."

"No!" He pressed his hand to his forehead, massaging it with his long fingers before repeating more softly, "No."

"I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm not hearing any specific proof that says Orian was the intended target."

Sure, I could cook up some convoluted theories that said Orian knew which blade held the poison and he'd sacrificed himself to save his brother. Or even that he'd plotted against Nylian, but made a mistake at the last second. I was a writer. My brain was twisted. Of course, I could think of demented shit.

But I also believed that sometimes the simplest explanation was the most plausible. In this instance, the point was to get both of the twins out of the way. Killing Orian and Xeran was dangerous. The king would have gone hunting for the killer. Yet, by killing one and framing the other, the real culprit escaped the limelight.

The thing that surprised me was that Nylian hadn't thought of this. Of course, in his defense, he'd been blindsided from the start. His pain and grief had kept him from more analytically examining the events. He needed some outsiders on his side. Until this moment, he hadn't had that.

I crossed the cell and took his elbow, leading him over to the pile of straw. "Rest. We're stuck in here for now, and there's nothing we can do about the past until we're free."

The elf dropped heavily to the ground, and I winced at the bones I could imagine being jarred. Far more gently, I sat next to him, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and pulled him in close so that his head was resting against mine.

"I always thought there had to be a deeper reason why someone targeted Orian," Nylian whispered.

"Maybe there is, and we don't know it yet. We'll get out of here and find the truth."

"Before Father exiled me, I heard they conducted a search for the servant who fetched our swords that day. They discovered his body dumped in an old well outside of West Vale with his throat slit. I'm sure there were people who jumped to argue that I paid the servant to place the poison on the sword and then ordered someone to kill the servant to cover my tracks."

I bit back a sigh. Someone had covered their tracks. The servant had been a loose end and an easy way to identify the real culprit. Now we were stuck searching for clues outside of Wolfrest.

"Thank you, Lockhart. I haven't been able to review the events of that day. Without you, I might have missed something important."

"No problem. You can repay me by telling me whether I should worry about this king recognizing my face? Do I need to pretend to be a prince?" The City Watch might not have recognized this handsome face, but the members of the Galinaes royal family and nobility might keep up more on other royals from other kingdoms.

Nylian shook with quiet laughter but didn't sit up. "No. The elves of Galinaes are isolationists and don't associate with humans."

"Hence me becoming a pet ," I interjected.

The elf reached up and pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "And I know you're going to be the very best pet." As he pulled his hand away, I made a show of trying to bite his hand, which earned me another, deeper chuckle. "But no, I don't think they'll recognize you as Victor, because all humans look alike."

"Lovely," I muttered.

"It is. I'm sure we'd have even more trouble if they thought you were Prince Victor Montcroix. Now, go to sleep. I'm sure tomorrow will be eventful."

I waited, but Nylian didn't move. The freaking elf just snuggled closer, leaning more of his weight against me, his head resting on my shoulder like his personal pillow. Whatever. I had a feeling he was going to be right about tomorrow.

He was.

I woke to a mad scramble of pounding footsteps and the abrasive jangle of keys. I scrubbed my hands over my gritty eyes and opened them to find Nylian kneeling next to me, poised to pounce.

Fuck that shit. Pounce, my ass.

Wait, that came out wrong.

It was too early for pouncing on guards and breaking free.

"Don't speak unless someone asks you a question directly, and keep your answers short. Stay behind me and follow my lead," Nylian directed.

"No one should expect anything grand out of me before coffee," I mumbled.

By the time the guard was shoving a key into the lock, I was on my feet and more or less awake. Sleeping in a cold, drafty dungeon was an experience I hoped to never repeat. Zero stars. Would not recommend it to my friends. Just my enemies.

"King Beldroth and Queen Sumina would like to speak with you," the guard stated as he swung open the door. He even offered a bow that had me glancing over at Nylian. The elf flashed a tiny smirk my way and preceded me out of the cell. This was an interesting change in tone from "We're going to lock you up and kill your human."

The walk from the dungeon to where the royals were waiting for us was long and twisting, but we got to see some amazing sights along the way. The first floor we reached was better than the dungeons, but not by a lot, since this looked like the place where all the servants lived and worked, away from the view of the royal family. Not a single rug or painting adorned the first floor to break the austere monotony. Lighting was sparse, creating an ominous air filled with deep shadows from which eyes could be watching.

However, the next few floors we passed through were brighter. Plain stone turned to endless acres of smooth marble of every color. Furniture was everywhere, each piece seeming more delicate and ornate than the last. Gold and gems dripped from every knickknack and luxurious furs covered floors and were draped over chairs. There was no missing that this was a royal residence.

While it was jaw-dropping, there was something that left me feeling like I was walking through an opulent mausoleum. There was a cold austerity to it all, as if nothing living existed in this space. It was a showroom for all the kingdom's rich possessions.

I was growing winded when the guard who'd accompanied us pushed open a set of double doors, leading us into a bright room of white marble and enormous two-story windows that faced the east, welcoming in piercingly bright morning sunlight. Blinking fiercely, I held up a hand to shade my eyes as they attempted to adjust.

Around the room were at least a dozen servants in matching white uniforms, waiting to fulfill the tiniest command. They all stood close to a medium-sized round table that had to be groaning under the enormous weight of food and silverware.

With a loud clap that made me and about every servant in the room jump, a dark-haired elf with a crown leaped to his feet. He was the first elf I'd encountered who wasn't perfectly slender. There was considerable meat to his bones. He was nowhere near fat, but plush like a human. It was a little unsettling after seeing so many skinny elves.

"Prince Xeran Elrich, you naughty boy!" the king chastised as he left his breakfast to approach them. "Sneaking into my kingdom on an Edros ferry."

Nylian dipped into a medium bow, his right hand to his chest, and I mimicked him. "I beg the forgiveness of you and her elegance, Queen Sumina, for my intrusion into your home." I watched out of the corner of my eye as the king grabbed Nylian by both shoulders and urged him to straighten. For a second, I hesitated and then stood as well. So far, it appeared as if no one had noticed me, and I hoped it stayed that way for as long as possible.

"Nonsense. You only needed to send a letter ahead of you," King Beldroth said, keeping in his playful, jovial tone.

"Of course we would welcome you within our border. It's natural that you would seek sanctuary with your kin rather than be trapped with the humans," Queen Sumina chimed in. Her voice was considerably less friendly and far colder than her husband's. It was a struggle to not glance over at her when she spoke, but I was afraid of meeting her gaze. Something about the disdain that filled her voice at the mention of humans made it seem like a terrible idea.

"Exactly. You should be with other elves." The king patted his shoulders a few times, his smile broad and simple. "Shame about that matter with your brother. We don't believe it, of course. Your father is overlooking something obvious. We're sure of it. Besides, even if you killed your brother, what's the matter with that?" Beldroth asked with an absent wave of one hand. "That's why the king maintains a harem."

"Any struggles between the children ensures that the strongest rises to the throne," Sumina finished for him with a chilling smirk.

One of Nylian's hands balled into a fist and it took all of my self-control not to reach out and take that hand in my own. Blowing off Orian's death as the natural order of things was not how you got on Nylian's good side.

"I thank you for your wisdom," Nylian replied, somehow keeping his disgust and anger from his voice.

"But look at this!" The king turned to me and I started, my eyes darting to Nylian and then to the king. This was what I didn't want. "You've gotten yourself a human for a pet. We have dozens as servants around the palace, not that we allow them on the upper floors where they can be seen."

Sumina lifted her voice to add her two cents. "We've even gifted a few of the prettier ones to some of the court for sexual servants. Is that why you keep this one?"

My face was on fire. Forget the blush beginning at the tips of my ears. The heat immediately suffused my entire face and was sliding down my chest. Did she really ask if I was Nylian's personal whore? Oh, I had a few things to say about that. Not that I could. Anything that came out of my mouth would most definitely get me killed.

"No, Lockhart isn't used for that," Nylian answered, but did he need to sound disappointed about it?

"Why do you keep him? Does he do any tricks?" Beldroth inquired, and it was becoming harder to maintain a blank expression.

"Tricks?" Nylian sounded stumped.

This. This was the exact moment when the floor needed to swallow me up and take me away from this world. If I'd had that damn coin on me, I would have flipped it and said fuck the consequences.

"He has some musical talents, though only at a human level. I find him quite humorous. An entertaining storyteller. Lockhart has proved to be a pleasant traveling companion since I left Wolfrest." The elf was crawling out of the hole the two royals had dropped him in, and the embarrassment wasn't in danger of choking me any longer.

"Like a jester?" the king said, and the urge to smack someone returned in a flash.

"Sort of. Mostly, I find I enjoy caring for someone."

That…was unexpected. I was still trying to digest that strange comment when our companions chimed in.

"Huh. Odd," Beldroth announced before moseying to the table.

"Very. I can't say that I've ever had that inclination," Sumina agreed. I believed that about both of them.

The king dug into his plate of food, seeming to forget about us. It was the queen who moved things along again.

"A chamber has been prepared for your stay with us. A guard can return your pet to the dungeon until you have a need for him," Sumina murmured. She wasn't even looking in our direction, but picking at some fruit on her plate with a tiny gold fork.

I sucked in a breath, but Nylian immediately spoke, not giving me a chance to step in it.

"Actually, I would prefer to keep him at my side. I find caring for Lockhart very soothing for my nerves, and he's become something of a valet for me."

"Very well," the queen agreed, her tone becoming dismissive, as if she were more than ready to have us out of her sight.

"Tonight!" the king suddenly exclaimed like a sugar-fueled three-year-old. "Tonight, we are throwing a grand party to welcome you here. You must bring your pet along. He's not too bad-looking, as humans go. A tailor will be along to get you both properly outfitted. It'll be a wonderful party."

Nylian bowed, and I followed suit.

Thankfully, a guard stepped up to escort us out of the breakfast room and down many more corridors to our new quarters. This was a sizable step up from the dungeon. It was four times the size of my one-bedroom apartment in my world. Every bit was opulent and luxurious. Especially the bed.

The one fucking bed.

Goddammit.

I was not sleeping on the floor or at the foot of the bed like a good fucking pet.

Nylian dismissed the two servants, who were waiting inside for arrival. The second he closed the door, my mouth flew open, but I didn't even get the chance to speak. He already had one finger raised, halting my words.

The elf flew across the room to my side. "Elves have excellent hearing, even through walls. Low volume," he warned.

"Are you fucking shitting me?" I exploded in a harsh whisper. That pretty much covered it, since my brain was in such a froth over that entire conversation that I didn't even know where to begin. "Seriously? Are you shitting me with that?"

The elf smiled at me, and that only left me feeling more flustered. "I don't truly see you as a pet. You're not my jester. You're not a servant. Adam Lockhart is my equal and my friend."

Well…hell. That sucked all the indignant wind out of my sails.

"Fine. Whatever," I muttered. "At least this is better than being in the dungeon. After all the running and sleeping on the ground, I'm ready for someone to pamper my ass." I turned toward the bed, threw out my arms, and attempted to flop right onto what had to be a ridiculously soft bed.

But I never touched a single thread.

Nylian caught the back of my shirt and left me hanging in the air, balanced on the tips of my toes. "You are not smelling up that bed. Bath first." As soon as he finished speaking, he spun me around and marched me to a second room with even more marble and an enormous tub that could fit four people with indoor fucking plumbing. "Wash. When you're done, I'm sure food will be dropped off. We need to look our best tonight."

"The party?" I glanced over my shoulder to see a wicked grin spreading across the elf's face.

"Big parties are an excellent time to go snooping for clues."

Yes, snooping for clues. I didn't trust King Beldroth. And I trusted Queen Sumina even less. They had to know something about Orian's death, and we were going to uncover what it was.