Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

I'd thought that stitches and patches,

A smile that twisted,

Gave ample claim to monsterdom.

G ray lilies filled the courtyard. My silk night gown, made of softest pink, billowed as I gripped the balustrade and took in King See's apology. Or explanation. I wasn't sure which he'd intended.

The gray lilies made spotting the hellebores on Mother's grave difficult. I didn't like that.

Mother yawned and gulped the gray lilies away.

"Thank you," I told her. "You've been busy… I think?"

She'd yawned the trinkets away yesterday, and when I'd retired at dawn, my room had appeared rather different. A four-poster bed equipped with thick drapes had replaced the standard hotel mattress. The fraying armchair had disappeared, and a cushioned chaise of striped whites and grays occupied that corner instead. Artworks of simple scenes in bold contrasts had hung upon the wall.

When I'd ventured outside five minutes ago, I'd seen that the balustrade was gold today and not rusted metal. Flecks of peeled paint no longer littered the landing. The concrete was now dull copper to match my conservatory and studded with gems that glittered rainbows every which way.

I could only fathom that if Mother could yawn trinkets away, then she could also regurgitate them. How Mother spat them where she liked was a mystery… and also how she swallowed them in the first place. But I got the sense she enjoyed renovating.

While I very much wished to explore the changes to the hotel, I had more pressing matters to deal with.

"Valetise," I called over my shoulder. "I have business to attend."

There was a rustle, and by the time I'd padded to the suitcase, she'd pushed an outfit to the surface.

I wasted no time getting dressed, and only paused to admire the outfit after.

"I like this a lot." I ran my hands over the buttoned vest that sat tight over a simple white camisole. My breasts weren't visible, but ample cleavage was.

The full-length skirt matched the pinstriped material of the vest. Laced boots gave the outfit function, and the vest's short sleeves lent youth to the ensemble. It occurred to me that my first thought wasn't about what stitches might show. Could it be that fear's grip had loosened somewhat? "A little seductive, a little innocent, and very dignified."

Valetise pushed up a small top hat with clips on the bottom, and I swept half of my hair up into a twist, then set the miniature top hat at a jaunty angle.

"Perfect." I beamed at her, earning a delighted wiggle from the suitcase.

Now, to pressing matters. I had to open communication with King Raise today. Not only had his princes failed to investigate this hotel and myself, but the king hadn't sent a message. I was an old enough monster to know new monsters were rare. His distance felt purposeful and therefore personal. I had the inkling to become offended, but my younger side reminded me in no uncertain terms that not long ago, I would've felt astounded to receive visits from princes and letters from kings.

So I wouldn't be offended. But I would rectify the matter.

Instead of blinking down to the courtyard, I blinked in six-foot measures to my conservatory. Tension drained from me as I reached the peak of my hotel. How exquisite the dull, somewhat oxidized copper appeared at the change of light, though moonlight glared rudely through a glass panel. I squinted at the panel, and my attention was stolen by the tower illuminated in the far distance.

I walked closer, peering through the dusty glass.

"Goodness," I said.

I could see King See's gothic palace from here. His kingdom sat at the northern edge of Vitale as plain as night.

Could I see the others? To attend Take's ball, I'd walked through the city in the opposite direction. I pivoted and strode across the conservatory to squint through the dusty panel there. A white castle pinkwashed with blood gleamed in south's stars and shadow.

Take's castle. My hotel was located between the two kingdoms. Perhaps in the exact middle. How balanced.

I hadn't met Bring, nor seen his kingdom, but I'd spent a night in Change's grim forest. Where was that?

I circled the conservatory, peering through the glass panels, and soon spotted a thatched house set atop a towering column of rock that almost seemed to touch the clouds and moon. The house, though tiny by contrast to castles and palaces, was perfect upon its impossibly tall perch. Did that belong to Bring or Raise?

No idea.

Only the west remained. In that direction, and off in the distance, I found the eerie, enormous trees of Change's sparse forest. No moonlight touched his kingdom, only shadow. I imagined the uniform and barren trees looked exquisite in such a setting.

"But there are five kingdoms," I mused. I'd completed a lap of my conservatory and only found four.

I returned to the center and stared at the burgundy drape. Was that the answer? Was the fifth kingdom behind the drape? I wasn't ready to take the risk in case a mirror sat behind the curtain. King Change had shown me that how we felt inside could convince us to think and act in horrible ways, and I was determined to better prepare for meeting my monsters.

I looked directly up, but mere stars twinkled back at me through the round glass panel above. No sky kingdom floated in sight.

I stared at my booted feet on the lush floor. "Does thyme reveal all things, I wonder?"

I couldn't imagine the fifth kingdom existed under the floor, but I should cover all possibilities. I stomped through the conservatory, swishing my boots through the thyme, and when I reached the exact center, a hollow sound rewarded my efforts. I'd walked over this spot numerous times and had never heard a hidden hollowness, but perhaps it just appeared.

Lowering to my hands and knees, I scraped thyme away to reveal a dusty, glass panel beneath. I closed one eye to focus through a tiny clear patch in the dust.

A great eye peered back at me.

I shouted and reeled away, falling on my behind. Sprawled in thyme, I grinned at the night sky, feeling the rapidness of my heart and the coiled fright in my body. Ha! I'd been foggy with the last dregs of slumber, but this playful someone had helped me to fully wake.

When I crawled to the panel, my heart sank to find the person gone. And without a hello or exchange of names. How disappointing!

With the peeping person out of the way, though, I could see everything on the other side, and a gasp fell from my lips.

A great tunnel drilled downward into the Earth. Rings circled the tunnel walls at intervals. The nearest rings signaled where the floors of my hotel each sat. Past them was a thick ring that I expected was Earth's surface—the ground that Vitale citizens walked upon. Instead of ending there, thousands of stairwells crisscrossed beyond as far as my monstrous eyes could see. A kingdom existed beneath Vitale, and this kingdom was one of stairs—stairs to everywhere, a veritable maze I couldn't hope to make sense of.

Where did the stairwells lead? Whyever would a person have so many stairs in their house? How did they keep track of so many beginnings and ends?

Magnificent indeed.

I plonked on my behind again. Did King Raise live in the thatched house raised impossibly high off the ground? Or did he live in a kingdom of stairs that raised him in every direction? I couldn't guess. I couldn't guess which kingdom might belong to King Bring, either, so the solution was to pick one kingdom and solve the mystery.

The stairwells enticed and frightened. I could get lost there for eternity. Yet I couldn't imagine climbing the rocky pedestal to reach the thatched house. I'd never climbed so high in my life, and such a climb could take days or weeks.

I descended to the courtyard and stopped short at the sight of a princely werebeast.

"Prince Huckery," I blurted. "Is it that time already? I quite missed the coming of my stitches. Good evening."

"Is it?" he challenged, snarling after.

I glanced around. "As good as any."

The prince raised his hackles. "What's your game?"

Trust didn't come easily to this monster. "Would you believe I had no game?"

"No, because humans are not believable, and I'm not convinced you're a monster."

I held out my stitched-on hands to show him. "What's unconvincing about my monsterdom?"

"You're just not monstrous enough." He paced in front of the wall of bars.

I almost felt offended, and that brought a smile to my twisted lips. I would only feel offended by an insult, so clearly I considered lack of monsterdom to be an insult. "Prince Huckery, thank you. You've made me realize I want to be considered a monster and not human. That is a fresh insight indeed. You see, I quickly learned that monsters are more interesting than humans, but now I must wish to be interesting more than I wish to be conventional in looks. How unexpected."

He appeared surprised. "You found humans interesting at one time?"

"Not much, but I was one until the monster process triggered in me, so they were my standard for normality. Though I always found them conventional and…"

"Bland?" he supplied.

"Bland. That's a good word. Humans were normal to me, but not intriguing. The humans in my life seemed to find one another very intriguing, too, and I could never figure out why. Perhaps then I was always a bit monster. But with your help, I've seen that monsterdom is my new normal and not unusual in the slightest. Which is very good as I'd prefer to be interesting and not bland if I have a choice."

Huckery tilted his head. "What's unusual about being a monster, lady?"

"Well, nothing now, but there was a lot of new felt at the first sight of my stitches and patches. There was the matter of me being made up of body parts from fifty female ancestors, but that seems quite a logical, usual thing these days. How curious the change." I took a deep breath. "Maybe one day I'll find the courage to look at what I've become."

My intention wasn't to utter anything of my inner struggles to Huckery, but the words were out for better or worse.

The prince's face slackened. "What do you mean? You haven't looked at your true form?"

I didn't wince at the implication that my conventional, day form wasn't the real me. Another triumph. "I have found myself afraid of how I'll feel at the sight. I become more convinced with each slumber that I must look at myself soon, and that I should prepare as best I can so that I might love what I see. If I don't, then I might become terrible. Does that make sense, Prince Huckery? I'm not sure it makes sense to me, even though the thought is mine."

"I see the sense in your thought, lady," he answered. "I change into a mindless, soulless beast at dusk, so I understand holding fear of yourself and also to fear hating yourself all at once."

Tears sparked in my eyes at his pain. "You are neither of those things. Why do you think this way of yourself?"

"King Change knows it to be so, and he is wise in all things."

An attempt to come between liege and prince wouldn't work in my favor. "You understand my fear, Prince Huckery. I can't be sure that I won't hate what I see, and what will my fate become if that happens? I didn't think of such things a week ago, but I'm more ancient recently."

"Yes, this is an ancient train of thought. I fathom if you hated yourself, then you'd understand my liege's need to ruin, lady."

That's what I'd feared.

From where I now stood, not having looked in the mirror, Change's depravity was plain and at odds with me. But hate of myself could chip at my character until I agreed with his actions and thoughts. "What if chance fates that I love myself instead?"

Huckery pulled a face. "Then you might understand Bring's need to save the world, or at least you might not feel a need to intervene in fate. But though I'm unconvinced of your monsterdom, Lady Patch, of your magnificence there's no doubt. I can't fathom what you wouldn't love about yourself. However, I have lived in hatred of myself for eleven hundred years, since Change set his mind to ruin, when others couldn't fathom why I felt so. How others perceive us is often not how we perceive ourselves, so I wish you happiness with your mirror venture."

Tears slipped down my mismatched cheeks, and I let them fall to the cobblestones. He'd phrased my pain so eloquently. "Wisdom is not reserved to your liege. You are incredibly wise too."

And loyal—he'd proved the most loyal to his king out of all the princes. What a glorious quality to hold.

"Perhaps you could assuage my curiosity, Prince Huckery. What do you mean by saying I'm not monster enough?"

"You don't do enough monstrous things, lady. You are beauty itself. One looks at you and sees whimsical mysteries in each untouchable stitch. But what do you do for thrill? What makes you smile inside?"

I considered that. My mother's conversation had made me smile inside, but she was gone. I hadn't considered what made me happy in a long time. "Only minutes ago, a fright made me feel glee. That's not conventional, I think?"

"Fright should bring you much glee, but to me, it seems you've become content to receive frights and never give them. To take all glee and never give it back isn't a generous nor trustworthy quality."

Goodness, he was right. Not only had I failed to actively seek glee for myself, but I also hadn't actively sought glee for others. "I hadn't given this nearly enough thought, but you're right. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. How shall I go about it, Prince Huckery? Shall I give you a fright and some glee?"

He rolled his beastly eyes. "I could hardly be frightened while expecting it. Not unless you were very good."

"How shall I start then?"

He whined a little. "Sharing a fright can be enjoyable."

The prince had extended an olive branch. "You mean we frighten someone together?"

He lifted a shoulder. "I guess. Or I could watch. Then I'd know for sure the true monster was you and not me. I'm very good at giving frights already, and this could confound the results."

My mind buzzed in silence when I considered how to go about giving a fright. Maybe Huckery was right about my lack of monsterdom. "I'm unsure what to do."

"The exchange of frights is more of a playful thing between monsters, but if you're spooking someone for the purpose of self-care or to entertain monstrous company, then humans are a good place to start. Quite simply, you pick someone in need of a spook."

I hummed, then smirked. "I can think of someone in need of a spook. She wouldn't enjoy it though."

Huckery's smirk matched my own. "Even better. Humans rarely do. Strange, pitiful creatures that they are."

I shivered at the wickedness of my idea and felt a bloom of delight inside—an inner smile. The prince was correct to bring this up. I could feel the difference in me already. I'd looked like a monster but hadn't behaved much like one. "Will you come to witness the scare then?"

"I'll need to if I wish to be convinced. You might not see me, but I'll be watching. If a monster you prove, then I'm willing to declare myself wrong. If a fright you fail to give, then I'll happily tell everyone you're lacking in ghoulish essentials."

A grave importance settled over what had started as an amusement. My mind took off with its new ancient awareness, and I stitched together a future where Huckery was proven right or wrong. I became sure that Huckery must be proven wrong, because if not, I'd lose my chance to convince the prince not to hate himself.

Convincing him felt very important.

Huckery snapped his jaws, then settled back on his haunches. "Climb on."

"What?" I blurted.

"Climb on," he snarled, then glanced away.

He didn't want me to make a big deal of his offer, so I obeyed without another word and sat to one side to accommodate my full-length skirt.

I whispered directions in his torn ear that was mostly hairless, then shrieked my delight when the prince bounded over my wall of bars. He landed on the other side and erupted into an immortal run. I shouted at the speed and surprise of our pace.

Wonderful.

Huckery raced us through Vitale toward the location I'd whispered in his ear, and the smoothness of his gait didn't leave room to feel I may fall, though I held tightly to my tiny top hat.

When the werebeast prince skidded to a stop, I slid off his back. "Thank you, Prince Huckery. How delightful that was."

"Don't talk about it," he growled, then padded away to the shadows of the closest apartment building.

I was on my own.

The last time I'd stood here was with See's princes and my mother's body. The road had been empty of flowers with new seeds germinating after the lupin harvest. The white and crimson clove flowers that now spread in a blanket between the buildings spoke for how long I'd spent in slumber and monsterdom while life in Vitale moved on as normal.

I felt a pang of… nostalgia? Of regret? No, neither of those was correct. The pang was one of guilt because my memories of human life were monotone and hueless, yet I'd shared that life with Mother. I preferred a dusk-until-dawn existence, and Mother would never share in my happiest days, and so I carried a weight of betrayal in my heart.

Though Mother did renovate the hotel last night. She might not converse with me as she once had, but Mother remained with me in monsterdom and life. I could thank my instinct to bury her close by for that.

Monotone and hueless though my human memories were, I was glad to have access to them. Some stuck out from the rest.

There was the day Mother told me she would one day wither.

The day Mother began to wither.

Then the day she'd finally withered away. Attached to this last memory was a dark resentment that I hadn't much thought about until speaking with Huckery at dusk. I resented a woman who lived in this building.

The landlady had smirked her glee as agents pressed me against the wall and dragged me around. She'd relished the upset and turmoil despite my mother lying dead only feet away. I lifted a hand to the cheek she'd clawed with her slap and recalled the way her screeches had rung in my ears.

Yes, the landlady was in need of a spook.

I strode to the entrance and snapped off the handle to enter.

Blinking up the stairs, I stopped at the door to the apartment I'd shared with Mother. I'd never expected to return here, and the feeling wasn't altogether pleasant. I missed my mother. If there was a choice to have her back, I'd return to this life of monotone and grayscale.

Wouldn't I?

Guilt panged me again as I blinked inside the locked apartment. Turning to unlock the door first, I then swept it wide open. When I arrived in my old bedroom, I saw the landlady had troubled herself to patch over the hole to the elevator shaft. How curious to fix that when she hadn't bothered to fix anything in the building when Mother and I lived here.

I kicked in the hole again—just the little one I'd made, not the bigger one the law agents had created to get in. Then, bracing myself inwardly, I crawled into the elevator shaft where Mother had died.

The landlady hadn't broken up the platform in the shaft, but the smell of bleach filled my senses. She'd scrubbed away the decay. The bleach smell was cloying and wonderful, and I inhaled. All in all, I couldn't fault what she'd done with the place.

Lying flat on my stomach, I faced the hole and propped onto my elbows to cradle my stitched face in both hands.

Then I did something I'd never dared to do when Mother lived.

I kicked at the wooden boards. I screamed and wailed at the top of my lungs. I even cried and sobbed in the middle of the racket when the real emotions of being in this shaft caught up.

My ears caught the hollow drum of her footsteps in the outer hall. My hearing was quite good now.

I fell silent, smirking out the tiny hole to the bedroom.

Wait. My monstrous instinct told me to wait.

The front door creaked. "Who's there?" A mutter. "Why's this door open?"

Footsteps.

Slow. Hesitant.

Wait.

"Law agents are on their way!" She coughed her wet cough.

I didn't peep a sound as she checked the far side of the apartment. A flicker of candlelight announced her movement through the hall, and her footsteps stopped as she arrived in the bedroom.

"That little bitch ," the landlady spat out.

She didn't like my renovations.

"You better not be in there," she hollered. "I'll have you for this."

The landlady crossed the room, muttering to herself. She lowered her candlelight and struggled down to her knees. I felt a pause in her before she looked through the hole—a human pause, and one born of a fear of looking in dark places.

The landlady pushed her candle into the elevator shaft first.

Then she hunched to squint inside.

And looked straight at me.

"Rent is due," I said.

Her mind caught up with her eyes. The landlady's scream filled the shaft as she reared back. She hit her head on the top of the small hole, then screamed again and managed to extract herself.

I blew out her candle, then laughed. Goodness, her screams were the most wonderful music.

I blinked out of the elevator shaft. Blink, blink, blink. I turned in the entrance of my old bedroom to block her in.

The landlady had staggered to her feet and was stumbling back from the shaft. She thumped into my body and bounced forward, screaming again.

I gripped her shoulders tight and whispered in her ear, "Don't be late."

The landlady pooled into a heap at my feet.

I nudged her with a foot, then pouted. "She's fainted."

And I'd just been getting started. My, there was a level of finesse to this fright business. I'd frightened the landlady all at once and a lot. The next time I scared a human, I should scare them a little and for a long time. I might like that better.

When I exited the building, having left the fainted landlady inside the elevator shaft, I scanned the space for Huckery. He'd really opened a whole new corridor in my mind tonight, and I had to thank him. I'd spent monsterdom deprived of this joy, and deprived of sharing this joy with other monsters, and could only mourn the lost time.

"Prince Huckery, did you see her terror?" I called, then laughed. Goodness, I couldn't wait to share this delight.

Except the werebeast didn't prowl from the shadows to join me.

I called him again to no avail, and disappointment flooded away some of my delight. I'd anticipated reliving the memory with him for a time. What if he'd missed the whole thing?

His absence had stolen the fun right away, and that wasn't nice at all when we'd intended to share a fright.

I scowled. What to do now? Returning to the hotel while feeling deflated didn't feel right.

Should I return to frighten the landlady again? She'd likely faint again so soon after the last spook.

I glanced upward to find an enormous pillar of rock extending to the sky—or so it appeared from this vantage point. From my conservatory, I'd seen that the thatched kingdom didn't quite meet the sky.

How convenient to find myself close to this kingdom. I should say that the thatched house was very far away and high up, and completely out of sight, but the base of the pillar was within walking distance.

I really did need to win back King Raise's snuffing share.

Was this his kingdom? There was only one way to find out, though I might've easily asked Huckery if he hadn't left me mid-spook.

I trailed my focus up, up, up the pillar of rock. Climbing would take a long time, and I didn't have supplies. Then again, I hadn't eaten since waking after the last slumber and didn't feel hungry. I hadn't eaten for several months of slumber put together either. This led me to believe I might not need food. I should stop preserving pears if that was the case.

I might as well climb.

"Which king do you belong to?" I murmured.

Arriving at the bottom of the pillar took a surprising and annoying amount of time. I'd misjudged the distance to get here, and foreboding crept through me at the thought I'd misjudged the distance up to the thatched house too.

At the base, I craned to look up. The pillar spanned several blocks in each direction. I marveled at the dread and hopelessness this kingdom inspired. This dark pedestal was a display for a rare diamond indeed.

I jumped impossibly high and gripped a ledge, pulling myself to stand on it. The pillar's rock wasn't crumbly as assumed, so perhaps climbing wouldn't take so long.

I jumped and gripped and pulled up. I did it another time, then again.

I repeated this until I lost count, and then continued going past that.

When my breath quickened, I stopped to sit on a ledge, then peered down. My stomach swooped fast and without warning. My vision swam at the sheer distance to the ground.

Goodness me. The journey to this kingdom was a fright and delight in itself. I leaned back and grinned, my earlier good mood restored.

Better keep on.

I climbed and rested by turn, and as the time passed, concern ebbed in. I could see how far away the ground had become, but I couldn't tell how close the top was. What if I was trapped and must climb forever? The idea hadn't occurred to me but should have. Magical, impossible things often happened to monsters, and I'd seen the kingdom of stairs this evening, too, which made no secret of its intention to trap.

Was this kingdom a trap too?

The air gained a chill as I continued climbing for lack of a better idea. I'd liked the short sleeves of my vest at dusk, but now wished for longer sleeves to help guard against the cold. A scarf would also be nice.

Jump, grip, pull.

I settled into rhythm, and when my breath next quickened, I didn't pause to rest. Was it this determination and perseverance that had me reach the top at last? Had chilled resolve been the key to this kingdom, or was arriving at the top just a matter of time and climb?

I straightened at the top and took in the kingdom of King Raise or King Bring.

Lush grass grew thick and happy and as far in each direction to be a match for the size of the other kings' palaces, castles, and forests. Colorful flowers dotted the grass. Rabbits hopped, and deer bounded. The unexpected sight gave me the inkling to sob. The animals were so happy, and the grass and flowers so vibrant and full of life. This kingdom was a place of myth—a place I'd only heard stories about. If Mother were to be believed, which I certainly thought so, then parts of the world were like this before The End.

A dirt path wiggled between the lush grass like a worm, and I started down it to inspect the thatched house at the end.

Smoke curled from the chimney of the thatched house. Bunches of herbs dried under the porch. I spotted a rocking chair there too. The chair rocked, though no one sat upon it, and I could imagine sitting on it for an eternity to watch animals hop and prance by.

What if the world was truly like this?

I had to know which king ruled this kingdom.

I climbed the few steps to the porch and raised the iron knocker to announce my arrival. A rhythmic, high-pitched banging halted my downward swing.

A great voice boomed from within the thatched house,

" Lovers, flowers, sunshine, balm,

This day, do I make a charm?

Shadows, vipers, chaos, thirst,

This day, do I make a curse?

By kingly fist, by ancients' dose,

I bring the world what's needed most."

The high-pitched banging was a common sound in Vitale and that of mortar and pestle. I had my answer. The king had stated his name and purpose in his toiling chant. This thatched house belonged to King Bring.

I hadn't intended to communicate with him today, yet his oasis in the sky had me distracted from things I ought better to do.

I opened the door and walked closer to the banging and singing.

" A curse it is you've earned most surely,

A lesson, a hardship, that hurts you sorely.

Don't beg, don't cry. 'Tis not a personal score,

To balance a scale, some must fall, some must soar."

The king had a gift for rhyme.

I left the hallway that was not dank nor dim, but warm and welcoming, then paused in the doorway of a kitchen that must take up most of the house. Cauldrons, ladles, candles, and skulls; rolled parchment, some unfurled, sat on every surface and shelf. Stoppered vials filled with mysterious things lined the walls, and the ceiling too—though how they didn't fall to the ground, I couldn't tell.

Wooden boxes, vases, drying herbs, and barrels. My mind couldn't take it all in.

This wonderful place could only make sense to its king.

I sifted through the wave of the first overwhelming impression and discovered that one object in the kitchen demanded focus. King Bring had sung of balancing a scale, and a scale sat on a bench next to the fire almost covered in rolls of parchment. Red stones filled each dish on the scale, and one dish held more of the stones, hanging slightly lower.

King Bring, his face blurred to me, scooped a spoonful of black liquid from a bubbling cauldron. He poured the liquid into a vial and stoppered it, then shoved the vial through a hole in the floor. I listened to the rattle and whoosh as it hurtled downward. After, the king flicked a red stone into the higher dish, and the scale balanced perfectly.

"Does that vial fall to the bottom of your pillar?" I asked from the kitchen doorway. The bubble of his power wouldn't allow me closer.

King Bring stilled, then I was forced back a few steps into the hall as he faced me. I felt annoyed about that until my younger mind reminded me such things tended to happen when kings moved.

Bring wore a black leather long coat. His bare feet were crimson with teeth spiked all over them. Leather pants—black to match his coat—covered him from hip to ankle, and the king didn't wear a tunic. I stared at the gaping hole in the middle of his crimson torso, a mouth lined with dagger-like teeth.

How unique.

I dipped my head. "King Bring, we meet. I am?—"

" Lady Patch ." Awe filled his voice. "You are magnificence. You are wonder in delightful, feminine form. I have met your stitches already, but allow me to say that your voice is as delightful and intriguing as described. Fair maiden, you honor me tonight, and here I had thought you worried of me."

They were the words of a lover, and unexpected despite the concubine offer. Midnight stole across my cheeks, and I heard his gasp. The king dropped his spoon, and the black liquid clinging to the underside burned through his wooden floor.

Curses left a mark.

"Your blush lures and traps me," the king said hoarsely "My body hardens at the sight."

I tilted my head. "In arousal, sir?"

"In arousal, seductress."

"I know what it is to seduce, and I have not done that here. You arouse yourself, sir."

He didn't answer straightaway and took a breath before he did. "You wish to be clear that I, alone, am responsible for my romantic feelings and carnal thoughts. Are you to become princess to See then? I must mourn the loss of you, if so."

My mind flashed to the gray lilies that had filled my courtyard and covered Mother's grave. There was a message in how I'd felt about the sight, I was certain. I could not lose myself to everything King See was. I was my own monster too.

"I am not King See's princess, sir."

"And will you be so in time?"

"I am not experienced enough to understand the effect of time, sir, so I will not answer that. But I am my own monster. Of that I'm sure."

The mouth in the king's torso opened and shut in a sliding whisper of teeth. "Then will you be my concubine, fair maiden?"

I'd resolved to keep open to the idea in case my life took a sudden turn to hardship, but having seen Bring's kingdom, I could imagine myself in this house and in this kitchen. The rocking chair outside appealed.

"Where do you sleep if your house is all kitchen?" I asked instead of answering him.

"There are two chambers upstairs."

"One for your princes and one for you."

He boomed a laugh, and his lower mouth moved in silent twin laughter. "My princes sleep outside, happy in dreams of what will one day be. My princess sleeps in the second chamber."

Goodness. I'd forgotten her. "Of course."

The king leaned against the bench behind him, then crossed his arms. My eyes lowered to his torso again.

"I eat every curse and charm made," he explained.

The king swooped to pick up the spoon holding the remnants of liquid curse, then shoved the spoon into this second mouth. There was a gulping sound, and Bring shivered. Black veins crept across his crimson skin, then faded away again.

I nodded. "I see."

"You do?"

"That is how your strength grows over centuries."

His exhale shook. "You do see. You are more ancient than anticipated and very articulate, Lady Patch. My princes have mourned the shortness of your slumbers. Tell me, how you fathom matters of kings enough to present them in such a well-rounded fashion?"

Bring had slumbered one thousand years to become this ancient, and hiding the connection between my slumbers and changing ancientness felt prudent.

"I am most sorry for the mourning of your princes," I answered.

"My question remains. You are made of mysteries that torture. You stir a fire long forgotten, fair maiden," he said with a small growl. "I lust painfully."

"Do you discover this tonight? You made the offer of concubine months ago."

He chuckled. "My mind lusted from the start to have your power blindness at my disposal. King See is formidable, and though he has vowed to remain impartial to the fate of the world, he still works to ensure no king can affect fate. A great thing if he were to be blind, Lady Patch. Then I might save the world. When I saw you in death some time ago, I lusted for you intensely, but having conversed with you, I can see there is none other like you, and so my lust consumes me."

I hadn't known that See inhibited others in this fashion. "If you saved the world, King Bring, would all be as outside your thatched home?"

Emotion choked him. "All would be outside, fair maiden. Animals roaming free. A glowing world where plants and trees and flowers grow. A world restored and happy."

An idyllic picture of a life outside walled cities. How different that life would be to what I'd known. In that world, a person might explore and make what they wanted of themselves regardless of specialized skill. Invalids might be openly cared for with plenty of resources to go around. "Why do you seek to save the world from extinction when no other king does?"

He unhooked his bubbling cauldron from the tripod above the crackling flames. A hiss and stench of burning flesh filled the kitchen, but he didn't cry out in pain.

"That's no small question, lady," he said after a time. "Five soldiers rode across the plains. At a cave they arrived."

"Yes, I've heard that part. The soldiers touched the stone and slumbered for one thousand years while ancients molded them to kings. When they awoke at The End, everything and everyone they knew was gone."

"Not everyone," the king said. "They had each other. For a while, they had each other."

I heard his sorrow.

King Bring recited,

" Five powers to grasp the world's fraying seams,

And if golden fate deems fit, to mend.

Bring. Take. Raise. Change. See.

Three princes, each, shall come to thee.

Monsters to guide kings to thrones,

To keep real monsters chained with blood and bone.

Your immortal burden cold and lonely,

Hear! Rule until the bloody finish.

For the mighty never stirred at dawn,

They burst forth at dusk,

Into toothed beast's yawn. "

I'd never heard the entirety of the chant. "So ancients built five kings to save the world, if fates deemed the world to be saved. The ancients made three princes to help each of you."

"To trap us," he said pleasantly. "The princes return us to our purpose should we err and drift. Their methods are painful."

I couldn't imagine any prince daring to hurt a king. That information changed my perspective on matters because I'd wondered why some kings didn't abandon their purposes if they no longer cared one way or another about the world's fate.

Hear! Rule until the bloody finish.

"A king cannot do other than his purpose, even if he wishes it," I murmured.

"Indeed."

My brows furrowed. "What of the part that says the mighty never stirred at dawn? What does that mean?"

Bring hummed. "That answer depends on whom you ask. I choose to interpret that I am strong enough, both in mind and body, to carry out my purpose and save the world."

Ah yes, I saw how to translate that part now. "King Change interprets the same, though he believes himself strong enough to ruin the world."

"You are newly a monster, Lady Patch, but do not mention that king in my presence again."

The house grew shadows and shook.

"I apologize for overstepping," I said.

Warm and welcome returned to the kitchen. "Thank you for the apology. You were not to know."

"Might I mention the other kings?" He'd had no issue speaking of King See.

"You may, and I shall answer your next question and say that Take and Raise interpret the last lines of the verse to mean that no matter how they try—or do not try—they will fulfill their role in the world's fate because they cannot do other than their purpose."

"They believe their role is passive, not active."

I was reminded of how I'd passively accepted frights and not actively sought happiness. "What of King See?"

"See has never seen fit to inform me why he turned from duty, though I have gathered he doesn't share the sentiment of Take and Raise."

" Once he agreed to save the world."

"Once we all agreed, when the five of us were on better terms and new immortals with the glory of soldierhood still in our hearts. We set out to save the world together and spent one century in this fashion, great hope in every honorable step."

I'd known that once the kings agreed. "What happened to change that?"

"One king didn't possess the strength and fortitude of the others. From this chip in the armor were other cracks born. Raise lasted another century before he grew weary at heart and drifted too deeply into his purpose. Our purpose is not designed to be personal, fair maiden. Not the action of it, nor the feeling we gain from the action."

He meant, I thought, that Raise's power had corrupted him.

"King Take was next to turn from your plight?"

"Take was next, yes, and I fear he goes the way of the other king. He begins to hate himself."

Having met Take, I'd wager that true. "Then King See left you alone."

Bring sighed. "He did after a millennium. His heart was broken and that was the end."

I struggled to keep my face smooth as my mind turned to Take's princess and King See.

"Ah, this news affects you, dear one. See has set his hooks in your heart. I glimpse it on your face. Yes, Take's princess broke See's heart and his will. She has kept him broken ever since, visiting again whenever he starts to heal and recover. She rules his body, Lady Patch, and this alters his thoughts. Mind and body are connected, no matter how we might wish it otherwise."

I did feel pain then.

I'd resolved to believe that King See's past didn't matter if I might be his future—though my younger self still balked from that. My ancient side had told me many times that a person could take pleasure from another and not feel any warm sentiment toward them in general.

King Bring wished to convince me otherwise.

He wished to convince me to play concubine, but as he'd chosen to do so by causing pain, he'd achieved more of the opposite.

"You are hurt," he said. "I am happy for that, though your pain is my anguish. You are a charm and a curse."

Oddly, his confession endeared him to me again. "I cannot begrudge an immortal's past. King See lived twelve hundred years before meeting me."

"Why does my information affect you then?"

"My younger side wonders many things."

A lull.

The king said, "You wonder what they are to one another. You wonder what they were to one another. You, a new monster, have missed out on living centuries while everyone around you has not. We hold many memories together, and you will exist in our company forevermore, never privy to the secrets we know and share."

That was exactly right, and I'd never felt the hollowness of that before. When it came to Take's princess and King See, I felt everyone was inside on a joke. I felt that no matter what someone might tell me, I'd never fully know the truth. "Yes, in a word."

"Dear one, why did you not say so? I am warlock of charm and curse, and when something is both curse and charm, then balance is maintained, and granting a wish is within my power. I will show you all See has shared with Take's princess."

He could do that?

I lingered in the doorway as his warning reached me. When something is both curse and charm . Again, my mind seized the possibilities and ran with them. If what he showed me rendered me distraught, then my relationship with King See could suffer a fatal blow. If I kept on in ignorance, my relationship with King See would suffer anyway.

"Yes," King Bring breathed. "You see the curse of it. You are torn, Lady Patch. Exquisitely so."

"You enjoy seeing me this way?"

"I enjoy that which might drive you to accept my offer. Do you think ill of me for it?"

"I do not."

"Ah, she understands. Wish that I had no princess. Wish that I had not rushed in that regard."

Despite my curiosity, I asked, "Is that what you did?"

"I thought a princess was the next vital step to saving the world. Alas, she is princess in title only. We share no touch nor thought. We share nothing, and I would share everything with you."

"I can't look upon kings, let alone touch them."

"A trivial matter. There are other pleasures to be had."

"I'm aware."

He whipped to fully face me. "You are? And so King See has sampled what is mine." The house darkened and shook again. Minutes passed before it regained its warmth and welcome.

King Bring growled low. "I am jealous beyond reason. I have never felt jealousy in immortality. 'Tis a sign, dear one. I am meant to fight for you."

"Do not fight, sir. I will decide if we are meant for one another."

"Your answer strikes me down as has the sight of you. I see our life together with you as my equal, though concubine in name. We shall know otherwise, my recipe reader, my charm deliverer. Already, you become my muse. You inspire me to go on saving the world."

I didn't repeat myself. I would be the one to choose the life of concubine or not. He would figure that out, and this way, things wouldn't sour before their time if I decided to turn him down.

In all honesty, that life appealed more than ever. The vision he'd painted was as beautiful as his kingdom, and the vision was just that—not real. This place was a fantasy I wanted to live in. I wanted to cling to it and believe it, and yet King See's gothic palace was equally as beautiful, though set in stark reality.

King See's kingdom was the cold truth.

That didn't mean I wouldn't choose fantasy in the sky.

"I cannot predict what the future holds for us," I told Bring. "But I accept your offer to witness what transpired between Take's princess and King See. What do you seek as payment?"

"You have stunned me with your beauty and your ancient conversation, fair maiden. I only seek that you think of me in a good way until our next meeting."

I considered that. "Only until our next meeting?"

"Yes. I will continue to earn it thereafter."

He could have asked for much more. "Thank you, King Bring. I accept your offer and charge."

The king whirled to his cauldron, and red smoke erupted from his long coat to obscure the sight of him as mortar and pestle grated and banged. His singing was wordless and booming, and his house rattled me to the ground.

When I looked up, King Bring was leaving the kitchen through a door on the far side.

"Look to the cauldron, Lady Patch," he said. "See the truth, and know I relish in your pain because it brings me hope of a life with you. I vow as I have vowed to save the world that you will one day be mine."

I felt a sudden and terrible fear at his declaration. The king didn't utter the words flippantly, and I got the sense that I'd made a terrible mistake by not shutting down the idea of us for good.

The fear dissipated as the simmering of the cauldron demanded attention. King Bring was gone, and I got to my feet to approach the bubbling concoction.

The surface gleamed crimson, and then a moving image disturbed it.

A princess, beautifully monstrous beyond anything I'd seen, loosened the shoulder of her transparent gown. The gown pooled at her feet, and she crawled over a bed to straddle a nude male. King See's face remained blurred, but I recognized his grace and coiled tension.

He stroked a chalky hand through the princess's long, black hair, and stiffened when she took his length and pressed it between her thighs.

The princess whispered from curved lips, and I sorely wished the cauldron allowed me to hear their voices because I got the feeling he'd just replied.

She rocked slowly at first, and when his hands settled on her hips, she started to writhe and rock as though her immortality depended on serving him. His hands helped her as though he shared the sentiment.

I watched them move together.

I watched more.

I watched it all.