Page 49 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

We had to stay standing for a few minutes longer until his head cleared enough for us to run again.

“Well, that was interesting,” he noted with a hint of slur to his voice.

“Are you okay?”

He stared at me.

“Are you okay now?” I asked, more forcefully this time.

He continued to stare.

“Damn you, Steele! Tell me you’re okay.”

But he didn’t tell me he was okay. He told me something so much better. “I love you, Millicent Merchant.”

My Steele. My beautiful, wonderful crowned prince Aereus, the prince who loved me, moved his hand to rest on my cheek, stroking his thumb slowly over the apple as I soaked up the remnants of the glowing light’s warmth. The drunkenness turned to seriousness.

I swallowed hard and whispered, “We have to go now.”

He nodded once, then glided his hand down to link our fingers together and we set off in a run once again. Our moment had ended, but my hand continued to heat where we connected.

The trees once again opened up a path for us.

Except for the light shining down on the path at our feet, the tone of the forest grew darker and darker. It reminded me of something I couldn’t quite pull from my memory until we found ourselves surrounded by millions of dots of light.

One of the dots danced forward and I came to realize it wasn’t a dot of light at all. “Imelda?” I asked, knowing now where the memory came from.

Distracted by her fairy light, I neglected to hear the rustling of the shrubs behind us, shrubs I really wished I had paid attention to, because now it was too late.

A man stepped out from the bushes, a tall, bulky man wearing a curled lip and an eye-patch.

Stipator.

Nineteen

I knew you’d convince her—stupid girl.

THE LITTLE DRYADS SCATTERED IN A BRILLIANT FLASH of light, leaving Steele and me alone with the man who was not loyal to the prince, but to the monarchy itself. My only memories of him consisted of being attacked at the club in Detroit and then backhanded in the king’s chamber.

It was safe to say I didnotlike that man one teeny, tiny, minuscule, little bit.

“Your Highness,” he spoke formally. “You’ve recaptured the prisoner. I told your father, if any could recapture the putrid flesh, it would be you. Despite your sister’s treacherous antics.”

I noticed Steele wince at the mention of his‘sister’s antics,’ but Stipator being so full of himself and of hatred for my position glared at me, thus thankfully missing the look that might have given Steele away. As for me, I didn’t much care for the way Stipator spoke the words ‘putrid flesh’ with such disdain, and I pointedly glared back at him. This douche-nozzle clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with. Just because the other fleshes didn’t live up to their full potential didn’t mean I was going to make that mistake.

Though, now we were left in a precarious position without the element of surprise on our side. No longer were we sneaking into the lion’s den, but being marched there by point of spear.

“Lead the way,” Steele ordered. Stipator bowed his head and moved in front of me. The trees no longer cleared the path for us.

I set off, stuck in between my captor and my love. Steele, for his part, took hold of my hand to run his finger up and down the fleshy part between my thumb and pointer finger once before he let me go. The gesture meant the world to me. It was his promise to me that we were still a team, and Stipator had no idea. That would be our only defense at this stage of the game.

The forest grew darker and darker as we walked, to the point that I began to doubt whether sunlight even still existed in this land. Hard, packed dirt and mud replaced the groundcover of moss and clover. My hands, I found, began not to tingle, but to sting. Sting and burn with… withpower?

It hurt and the pain caused me to fall off pace. Stipator noticed and must have thought I was going to try to escape. He whirled around, and spinning his spear in his hands, he rapped me upside the head with the wood end so hard, my ear began to bleed.

“Ah!” I screamed, grabbing my ear and stumbling to the ground, clipping my chin before I was able to push up and shift to my knees. The tears pooled then fell down my cheeks. Steele took a step forward. Using only my eyes, I stopped him. We couldn’t risk him giving his position away. If his father didn’t know about us yet, then we were better for it.

“Halt,” Steele ordered regally. Stipator flipped his spear back around and tucked it under his arm.

---