Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

BLADELESS WEAPONS

T he sun slipped from the sky, reflecting warm colors on the pale palace stone, as I ran back to my quarters in denial of the tears streaming down my face.

I flung open the double cherry-wood doors leading to my room, disregarding the Fae guards already posted on watch. I was a prisoner and a pawn. It seemed I had been the entire time I was ‘home’, every single day since my father tried to take me to Nebbiolo, perhaps even before then. Liberty, the thing I had always craved in the human realm, was just as out of my grasp as it had always been.

Thankfully, Olea was not in the room when I arrived. I knew she would come soon, to prepare for whatever dinner-banquet-torture waited for me that night. But I didn’t desire to see my mother, Cas, nor the reveling group of courtiers, all waiting for me to make a mistake. No, I would practice an age-old human trick. I would fake sick.

Fae couldn’t catch a common cold nor a fever like humans, but I remembered something Dane said to me. “ Faeries and Witchlings mature similarly to humans. First bleed for females is typical between the twelfth and fourteenth year. ” He didn’t explicitly say Fae experienced the pain of flow, but they did feel the pull of the moon. I hadn’t had a cycle yet in my new body, so I’d have to take the chance that Fae females suffered the same consequences as human women. Something in my gut told me they did. Being a female was never easy, regardless of species.

I rummaged around the wardrobe, looking for sharp crystal earrings or a scrap of metal I could draw blood with, given my lack of weapons. I found something better. A half full bottle of brandy.

I smirked and tossed back much of the rest of the bottle. The rest I poured into the chamber pot, topping it off with my own relief. And then I opened the window and smashed the bottle against the side of the palace, below the sill, until only the shard of a handle remained.

I undressed my bottom half and then I ran the broken edge of the bottle the length of my underfoot, wiping the drawn blood with my worn undergarments. The brandy muted the pain, and still I grimaced at the vulgarity of my act. My resolve hardened, knowing it would save me from banquet torture. And maybe, if I felt up for it, I would again attempt to see Jana late in the evening.

I left my undergarments on the ground next to my bed, praying Olea wouldn’t make me remove another pair for further proof. Then, I dressed in bedclothes, curled up under the massive canopy, and prayed for sleep.

I felt the tug of sleep and a soft picture came into focus. I was back in the Adimon Mountains, before our coupling. I stood facing him—the green-eyed warrior—sheer silk draped over the curves of my body, lavender and soft pink wisteria flowing from the canopy ceiling atop the room of my making.

Ezren stepped closer, still towering over me despite my newfound height. My breath grew heavy with anticipation, acute awareness of my bareness beneath the silken garment lancing my core. His eyes searched mine, and I stared right back, unable to move. “You have no idea how much I want you, Terra,” he said, his voice low.

He took his middle and index fingers and placed them on my lips, gentle in his touch. I intuited his meaning and parted my mouth, tracing them with my tongue. After a moment he pulled them out, trailing his fingers across my lip, dragging on my chin. His fingers moved to my neck, traveling down the center of my chest, and lingering on my abdomen. And then, when they were just below my stomach, he leaned in and whispered, “Moan, when you like something, squeeze my shoulder if you feel pain.”

He let his finger brush where I parted, and I convulsed, nearly falling, but Ezren’s forearm wrapped around my waist, steadying me. And then he let his fingers slip into my opening so slowly that I writhed, standing in the position he held me in.

The moan came whether I was commanded to or not.

I raised my hands to his neck, gripping him for stability while I felt the pressure of his fingers inside me, his thumb drawing circles on my spot of pleasure. “Ezren,” I half breathed, half groaned. “I. Can’t. Stand.”

He chuckled and nipped my ear. Then he withdrew his fingers and squatted down, tossing me over his shoulder and making his way towards our grassy earthen bed.

My fingers pressed into the Dragon scale that pulsed from my hip bone, sweat and the gods knew what else drenching my shift. They’d allowed me to sleep through the night, and soft light peeked through the drape cracks. Predictably, Olea busied herself around the room, preparing the fire and bath. I sat up, strings of disrupted hair framing my vision.

The realization that I’d awoken in this bed for only the third morning sat heavy on my chest.

“Ye were moanin’ quite a lot, en yer sleep, miss. Te be sure, et sounded more like… pleasure, than pain, but are ye alright?” Olea’s cheeks colored with a faint flush.

I slumped back into the pillows and sighed. The question conjured the image of Leiya, and it sent a pang to my chest. “Good morning to you, too,” I grumbled, staring at the canopy above me.

She busied around, fluffing chair pillows and dusting surfaces I knew she’d cleaned the prior morning, before turning to face me, hands on her hips. “The prince—he wilna satisfy ye? He has a reputation ‘at one. But me suppose he’d be more proper wi’ hes bride.” She looked at me as if about to share a secret. “Dinna worry mistress, me hath somethin’ for yer problem,” Olea whispered, winking.

I covered my face with a pillow and groaned into it. Cas’s words rang through my head, the truth in them searing. What did I want?

Fayzien dead, Gia safe, Leiya and co returned, my family back, Cas’s respect.

Ezren’s naked body tightening around me, his soft co ? —

I stopped the image before it consumed me, removing the pillow to see Olea hovering over me. “Yes?”

“Here ye go,” she extended her hand towards me. In her palm, she held a long and round glass object, resembling a small cucumber.

My face scrunched. “What is it?”

She raised her brows, and then it dawned on me—a tool to pleasure oneself. My cheeks reddened.

Olea giggled. “Ah, yes, I forgot yer former ken es ‘uman! And they dinna value female pleasure.”

I just looked at her in disbelief, and she continued. “Though, I dinna know ef the Fae would either, ef there wasna need for et. But et isna like ‘umans—ye canna bed a male once an’ swell weth a babe. For the Fae, they say et takes an average a’ five hundred times. The males realized them females had te enjoy et, ef they were gonna get em’ te do et ‘at many times! Many a couple use thes fer… how shall I say, starten’ the fire. Dinna worry, thes canna crack, the glass es the strongest made. And, et es spelled te move weth vibration when ets en ye.”

At that point, Olea must have been tired of my gaping at her extended hand. She put the glass object into a table drawer next to my bed. “Yer nervous, ets okay. But I’m tellin’ ye, ets normal for a female te take her pleasure en her own hands. Ye canna think straight unless ye relieve yerself. I’ll leave et here, ef ye wanna try.”

With that, she winked at me and pulled me up from the bed, bringing me to the bath.

“Do the Fae always insist on bathing this frequently?” I asked, hiding my wince at the hot water on my still-healing foot. “Or do I just particularly smell?”

Olea giggled as she brushed my dry hair, which fell out of the copper tub. “Naye, te either. But ye’ve been a bet down since ye came here, and my ma’ always said baths are key en settin’ the mind right again.”

“Olea, where are you from? Your accent… reminds me of someone.”

“I’m from the North, miss! Panderen born n’ raised. Me voice es akin te the, ehm, well the lower classes. Ets got a’ bet more grit n’ es a bet less refined.”

“I’m not sure if this is a personal question, but do you have magic? Like some Fae do?”

“No mess, I dinna have Fae powers. They say only the Fae weth the ol’ blood have the magic en em. But, ef yer askin’ me, et seems to be random,” she answered, resign in her words.

“I see.” I sensed she didn’t want to continue on the subject. “I have a favor to ask, a bit of an odd request. Is there a way for me to go underground? As you know, I spent the last few years in a forest, surrounded by Earth. The Earth calls to me, and here, well, I’m surrounded by stone and sea. Even if it’s just a dirt pit in the ground under the castle, being closer to the Earth would comfort me, I think. It would help me to, em, how you put it, get my head right.”

I closed my eyes and prayed to the gods that she wouldn’t see through my request. She stayed quiet a moment, either considering me or evaluating any ulterior motives. But she huffed and said, “I dinna know ef et will work, but me thenks there es an old chamber, deep under the palace, ‘at was used by practitioners a’ the old ways. I dinna know ef ets blocked off now, but I’ve ‘eard of Faeries playin’ down there in the dirt. Ef ets not blocked off, et could work for ye. But what’re ye gonna do there? Just sit alone en the dirt fer hours?”

I smiled at the convenience of her question. “Hmm, now that you mention it, perhaps I could read? Is there a library anywhere around here?” I asked, feigning all the innocence I could muster.

Olea put me in a simple riding dress, not free of a corset, but at least complete with a set of britches beneath the skirt, which I could tie at the hip if needed. Several layers of gauze also padded the britches to catch the flow. I faked a grateful smile when she gave them to me, cursing my choice in illness, for I realized I’d have to sacrifice a bit more blood if I were to keep the ruse up.

Apparently, the prince had requested I be dressed and delivered to him when ready, but since I awoke much earlier than usual, I would have a few hours until he expected me. And while the thought of speaking with Cas again made me see red, my mind wandered elsewhere.

Olea waited for me at the library entrance, which was marked by sweeping brass doors, citing that serving maids were not permitted to enter. I frowned at the rule but didn’t spend much time considering it. It only made my task easier.

I breathed in the scent of the parchment, and a wave of nostalgia came over me. I hadn’t been in a library since I’d come here last, and like typical Faerie children, Cas and I used to play hide and seek amongst the stacks. I would chase him around, trying to plant kisses on his cheeks, and he would run solely for the purpose of making me pursue him. The memory sent an ache through my chest.

Quiet stillness commanded the library, given the early hour, which meant any noise echoed through the large hall. The wide room housed maybe a dozen rows of books that ran towards the back of the hall, which quickly went from light-filled to dark, as the upper levels covered the back half of the room. Massive stained windows that told stories of the old Fae, casting prisms of color over the bookcases, adorned the front half of the library. In the middle of the room, separating the front from the back, a spiraling wrought-iron staircase wound up to the second and third floors. And if I remembered correctly, a trapdoor hidden somewhere in the library led to the lower levels.

I had spent much more time here than Cas. Books had been an escape for me even then, as they later were in Argention. I climbed to the second floor, sensing an undisturbed layer of dust upon everything. Luckily, I found a lit torch I could take to the back of the level. Just like I remembered, a sign marked the final shelf. Maps .

I let my fingertips brush the fading spines. Bunches of maps on parchment were bound and organized by region or topic. I found the Valfalla section, the largest booklet labeled City Layouts Over the Years . I opened it and flipped to the last page, the most recent city map. I ripped it from the string binding and tucked it into my corset. I kept looking, letting my eyes run over each spine, each section-marker, but nothing near what I needed appeared. I almost gave up, wandering through the other aisles, not sure what to look out for. Eventually, another section-marker caught my eye: Architecture and Buildings .

I picked out my next target— The Palace of Valfalla and Its Thousand-Year Transformation . The booklet had many iterations of palace blueprints, but I settled on one from the mid-millennia, when practicing the old ways was commonplace. I scanned the parchment, finding three underground chambers similar to what Olea described, connected by a series of tunnels.

I tucked the paper under my corset with the other map and made my way through the stacks. As I turned the corner, I ran smack into a firm body I identified right away by the sinking feeling in my stomach. My blood went cold, and I looked up to piercing blue eyes.

“Well, hello there, Princess,” Fayzien purred.

I stepped back from him. “You,” I growled, attempting to shove down my desire to wipe the smug look off his face with the curvature of a dull knife.

It didn’t work.

“I will kill you.” My voice was gravel.

“Oh? I’m assuming that won’t be for some time, given I know Cas has advised against something so foolish.”

I wanted to tell him he wouldn’t see it coming, that he’d finally know peace one day, and on that day, I would take everything from him. But the thought only brought my mother’s dying face to the front of my memory.

“Why did you do it?” I whispered, fearing my full voice would crack. “You made them my family, you .” I jabbed my finger at his chest. “And then you murdered them. They were innocents.”

Fayzien’s smug face turned serious. “Listen to me, you privileged, complaining whore. I picked your mother and father up out of a gutter in Laharam. Two boys and no money—I paid them handsomely, and they knew the risks. They knew I’d have to alter their boys’ memories. And I always told them if you were discovered, I’d clean house,” he sneered. “They agreed anyway. Humans can be so… desperate.”

I launched at him and he portaled out of my path. He was fast, his dodge so instant I had no time to recover before colliding with the opposing stack of books, sliding to a pathetic lump on the floor.

My head pounded from anger and the impact, but I could still hear Fayzien’s laugh ringing out. “Fell for that little trick again, did we? Here’s a tip—I have the fastest portal in all of Nebbiolo. It makes me exceptionally hard to kill.”

If I’d hated Fayzien before, I didn’t have a name for the emotion I was feeling now.

“What are you even doing here, lapdog?” I spat blood. “Are you following me, a glorified babysitter now?”

Fayzien laughed, a humorless mocking sound. “You really do think of yourself as highly important, don’t you?”

I rocked back on my heels, peering up at him. “No, but I think you see me that way. It must be distressing to see the letters of my name inscribed over the heart of your lover. Am I in your head, every time you see Cas bare? Do you wonder if he’s thinking of me when he lies with you?” I revealed my teeth painted with fresh blood in a murderous smile.

Fayzien’s face contorted. My blade-less weapon had struck true. I laughed out loud, delighted in his reaction, which only angered him more, and he grabbed me by the throat with one hand, hauling me up, tipping my head to his.

“You little bitch, think you’re so smart, do you?” he whispered, his hand tightening on my airway, spit flying from his mouth and landing on my cheeks. “You’re an overvalued twat, with no aspiration, and little more talent than raw magic. Raw magic means nothing if you don’t have the skill to use it. And unlucky for you, I do. I am coming for you, Terra of nowhere , of nobody . We’ll see who sits beside Cas at the end of this.”

He released his grip, shoving me into the stacks, and stormed away.