Page 55 of His Dark Delights
More than once I narrowly avoided a guard, but something inside of me, a primal, magical knowing, guided my path. Maybe the gods were on my side, lighting my path. Surely it was their power infiltrating my bones and reinforcing my confidence.
The stench of the cells reached me before I saw them. Many had suffered here in ages past, crushed under the heavy boot of one king to the next. The walls dripped, and an oily fluid reflected on the stone beneath my feet. I hated to think of the blood, piss, shit, and bile staining the ground I walked on.
A dim light flickered at the end of a narrow path. Cells with iron bars walled me in, and a metallic bitterness tainted the back of my tongue with each inhale. Enough to make me dizzy and cloud my head, but I didn’t stop.
In the last cell to my right, a figure jerked upright at the sound of my footsteps. Ice-cold, enraged gray-green eyes gleamed with malicious intent when his head snapped up. A breath vented past my lips as if his glare had struck me.
His features softened a fraction as awareness flooded his gaze. He tipped his head to the side, observing me. The scrutiny of his stare made me feel like I was the one behind bars left as an exhibit.
A black and purple bruise circled one of his eyes, and blood was smeared on almost every visible surface of his face and neck. Sticky crimson matted the coppery ends of his hair, and his clothing was ripped and shredded in multiple places as evidence of his beating.
“You.” He spoke first. “What are you doing here? The guards will return at any moment.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, warily eyeing theiron bars. After a second hesitating, I passed the parcel of food through. “I… I brought you this.”
The fae man rose to his feet, giving me an eyeful of his wings—still intact and faintly glowing with their own inner light. He could have illuminated the cell without the help of the sole torch burning on the wall.
His cautious gaze lingering on me, but he reached out for the parcel. A spark jolted through my hand when our fingers accidentally touched. His brow jerked with intrigue, but he retreated into the cell.
“So, I wasn’t mistaken earlier. The Fairy Butcher is a hypocrite. Wetting his wick with a fae woman while he kills the rest of us.” The man scoffed, but that didn’t stop him from tearing into a strip of chicken. While chewing, he added, “Well, have you come to pay your respects before they murder me, then?”
Shame dipped and surged through me, and heat colored my face.
“Pay my respects?” I stuttered. “I’m just here to help, and maybe—maybe talk.”
He leaned against the wall, crossing his ankles. The fae man was tall, lean, and carried an air of dignified arrogance strong enough to rival Soren’s. He didn’t look like a prisoner, despite the filth, blood, and straw scattered on the floor. Instead, he gave off the impression of a magically inclined, disgruntled noble.
“Talk? What’s there to talk about, brave but foolish girl?” He popped a cherry tomato in his mouth, casting his eyes at the ceiling. “Tomorrow the Fairy Butcher will burn my wings as he did my father’s, and my mission will have utterly failed.”
“Your father’s wings?” I gasped.
His brows pinched as he peered up at me. Heslowly, pointedly, swallowed the bite of food before responding. “You didn’t hear all the commotion in the castle after I stopped screaming, then? Your Butcher caught the Prince of Fairy today.”
“You’re the Prince of Fairy?” I stumbled back, nearly tripping on my feet.
“The one and only. Prince Lunaric, at your service.” He bowed with a dramatic flourish. “The only son of the late King Oberyn and heir to the throne. Well, I suppose that won’t matter after tomorrow. There will be no heir because he will have no head.” A cruel bark of laughter cracked out of him.
As sorry as I felt for him and awed as I was, I couldn’t leash back my tongue. “The war might have ended had you not shot that arrow. This could have been avoided.”
Prince Lunaric looked me up and down. He stepped forward, exhaling hard from his nose. “I was going to shoot theFairyButcherthrough the heart and end the war to save my mother from the battlefield. Who are you to end the war, girl? You’re not one of my people.”
Indignation reared within me. My nose flared, and I stepped forward, inches from the iron bars. An odd feeling rippled from the iron, like heat waves reflecting off metal in the summer sun.
“I had the ear of the king—”
“Likely his cock, too.” The prince crossed his arms, wincing from an unseen wound. “Or are you one of my mother’s spies?”
Panic collared my throat, and my next breath rushed in, thin and lacking. I looked over my shoulder, down the long damp corridor of cells. I shivered from the chill seeping through the dungeon and from the ice in my bones.
“I am no spy. I don’t even want to be here.” To stop myself from grabbing the iron bars, I squeezed my hands together. “Just a half-fae in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You don’t seem half-fae, but maybe that’s why that witless king hasn’t noticed,” he said dismissively.
“I am. My mother was a nymph and my father a human.” My tone rose again, defending the magical half of my blood.
“You appear almost completely human.” Lunaric shook his head before tilting it to the side. “Hm, but color me intrigued. The Fairy Butcher would have easily spotted a halfling. Either your parents lied to you, or someone locked up your essence.”
Prickles flared over my skin, and I rocked forward. My heart pumped harder and faster while my world trembled beneath my feet. Father told me that my mother was a flower nymph, and I believed him. He was the most trustworthy man in the entire realm. I wouldn’t stand there and accept that he’d ever lied to me about my heritage.
