CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BETH
When I stepped outside of Olwen’s tavern, I walked straight into a Renaissance fair. At least, that’s what the street now reminded me of. It had gotten even busier. For a moment, I got carried away by the excitement, the novelty of the market.
Women dressed in brown sack-like linen dresses offered their goods to passers-by, their shrill voices heavy with an accent I struggled to understand. It was melodic, and I picked up the odd word, but often, they fell into a completely foreign language.
A group was congregating around a tent, excitedly muttering and waiting. When I got closer, I fought the oddest sensation of having been transported back in time. This was the stuff of the nineteenth century, of traveling freak shows in the bad old days.
There were two copper cages next to the tent’s entrance. A woman with a long beard in one of them, filing her nails with a bored expression. The other cage held a tall, muscular man with brown hair and eyes.
He was filthy, his facial hair covering most of his jaw and chin, but he was gorgeous under the layer of dirt. I checked his ears automatically, although the color of his eyes left no doubt as to his human heritage.
What was he doing here, exhibited like a circus animal? When one of the spectators got too close, trying to touch him through the bars, the man countered with a complicated hand wave. The Fae howled as he fell back, slapping frantically at the flames licking up his pants.
The human was a fire mage. But why didn’t he break out? He’d easily be able to melt the copper bars.
The owner of the tent cursed and stuck a stick into the cage. When it touched the prisoner, he gasped, his eyes rolling back and his jaw clenching so hard, I was afraid he’d break his teeth. He shuddered and collapsed, twitching and writhing on the floor of the confined space.
When the owner was satisfied with the human’s suffering, he withdrew the stick and spat at the prone body, before turning away and continuing selling tickets to whatever lay inside the tent.
I’d watched the scene spell-bound, shocked and utterly miserable I couldn’t help the man. But what was I supposed to do? I was alone, and if the Fae men found out I was a woman out by myself, I’d be in trouble again.
The human lifted his head and stared straight at me. I shrunk under the intensity of his gaze, his eyes more red than brown. And then he smiled. Despite his wretched appearance, the filth and scars on his skin, he took my breath away. Literally. I forgot to breathe until my lungs ran out of air.
I inhaled deeply and made a decision. I’d return tonight after dark and somehow, I’d free this man. He still looked at me, his hands gripping the bars of his cage, his hooded eyes boring into my soul. I mouthed silently, “I’ll get you out.”
I had no clue if he got the gist, but I needed to leave. I couldn’t afford to attract attention. Keeping my head lowered so people wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t, in fact, a young man, I melted into the crowd.
Walking slowly, I surreptitiously scanned every person that crossed my path. I didn’t want to end up in another situation with some randy Fae who thought they had the right to grab me.
Soon, however, I relaxed. The disguise did its job, hiding my true identity from the people surrounding me. The throng thickened the further I moved away from the tavern.
There was an even mix of men and women, but not a single female was by herself. Each was accompanied by a man who kept a close eye on his charge.
Once I realized that, I tensed up again. I tried to look over my shoulder, gauging how far I’d traveled, but all I could see were the chests of tall Fae trapping me in the wave of people flowing down the street.
Eventually, the noise and bustle became too much, and I left the main thoroughfare for a quieter side road. The sounds abated, and nobody jostled me to keep pace. I slowed down and inhaled deeply. There was so much to think about.
Why had I felt so drawn to the caged man? Yes, he was handsome, but so were most of the Fae. The connection went beyond our joint humanity, both of us strangers trapped in this strange realm. When our gazes had connected, I’d felt a jolt, as if my soul recognized the man, even though I was sure I’d never seen him before.
My mouth went dry. I’d committed myself to him, even though he might not have understood my mouthed words. I’d return tonight under the cover of darkness, and I’d try to free him somehow. Once he was free, I wouldn’t be able to help him further. I was barely able to look after myself, nevermind taking on a stranger with God knows how much baggage.
That was only one of my problems, though. My thoughts went to my immediate issue with my potential royal lineage. I was sure that Prince Prys was my uncle, my mom’s brother, but there was something off about him.
Maybe it was how he’d spoken to Mistress Olwen, or the way he’d ignored Bleddyn. He hadn’t immediately accepted my story and been rude about it. Was that why I didn’t like him? No. If I’d been him, I’d also have been suspicious if a random human girl had shown up and claimed to be the heir to the throne—
I swallowed hard. Was I the heir to the throne? Was I the person who’d be expected to rule over this entire world? And if I was, did I even want it? I halted as my thoughts overwhelmed me.
There was so much wrong with Faerie. The sun providing warmth but no life, the huge disparities between rich and poor, the medieval way of life.
I chuckled to myself and continued walking. It wasn’t as if in my world things were any better. We humans did a fantastic job destroying our planet. There were people sleeping rough and begging for something to eat in the richest places in the world. There were assassinations, repressions, torture of perceived enemies every single day. Why did I think the Fae realm was any worse?
In my world, I had very little chance of making a difference. But if I were truly the daughter of the Lost Princess, then maybe I could do something good. My thoughts turned to Kenzy and Luke. They were here, somewhere, and if I accepted my heritage, I could find them and send them home. A smile stretched my lips as I recalled the last time all three of us had been together.
That’s when I bounced off a man and stumbled back, about to fall on my ass. His arm shot out and steadied me.
“Slow down, Mistress. Are you lost?”
He spoke differently from Bleddyn. His voice was more singsong, and his vowels flatter.
He still held my elbow, and a pleasant warmth crept through my limbs. My eyes widened as I felt the slow charge take over my body. I looked him fully in the face, about to ask him who he was.
Our gazes met, and something clicked. His eyes weren’t silver like everybody else’s, but shades of red. Beyond the flickering heat, there were black shadows swirling around his pupil, drawing me in further. My mouth opened and closed, but words failed me.
His hands moved up to clasp my shoulder, pulling me close, until there was barely a foot between us.
“Little one,” he purred, his voice a delicious, smooth baritone. It flowed through me like treacle, softening my limbs, calming my heartbeat, and, to my surprise, sending a wave of heat through my lower belly. The longer I was caught in his gaze, the more my resistance broke. I had never reacted to any man like that. This Fae creature was more gorgeous than Bleddyn, and I would have let him do what he wanted right here, in this alleyway.
In the back of my head, a voice shouted, Stop it. This isn’t normal. You like Bleddyn. You don’t even know this man.
His hands tightened on my shoulders, and my breathing sped up as I swayed toward him.
And then he let go and took a step backward. “You must return to your home, little lamb. The market is a dangerous place for an exquisite female like you.”
Finally, my mouth worked again. “How can you tell who I am under these clothes?”
He chuckled. “I would know your delicious scent anywhere.”
Instead of weirding me out, his words traveled through my chest, making my pulse stutter. “Who are you?”
Without a word, he turned me around until I faced the main street. Out there, deals were made, and aurints exchanged hands, while here in this alleyway, my life was turned upside down.
I expected him to push me gently forward, but instead, his arms wrapped around my ribcage from behind. He stood so close to me, his breath caressed my earlobe as he whispered, “I hope to see you again, little lamb. Until then, return to where you are safe. Do not stop. Speak to no-one.”
And then he was gone, and I rejoined the throng, allowing the tide to carry me back to the tavern. The journey passed as if in a dream. I paid no attention, my feet moving without my input until they stopped, and I found myself outside of Mistress Olwen’s house.
The prince and his entourage had left. I went upstairs, opened the first door, and closed it. The moment the lock clicked shut, the spell was broken. The dreaminess disappeared, and I could think clearly again.
It felt so sudden, so shocking, that I dropped onto the bed, grinding my teeth. The man with the strange fiery eyes had put a mind whammy on me. I was sure of it. But how? Bleddyn had tried the same thing, and his compulsion had slid off me like quicksilver.
What if the man came back? He’d overwhelm me, make me do all kinds of things. So why did that thought not scare me, but excite me?