Page 29 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
“Then you will have to deal with the monster. Alone.”
I glared at him, reaching for anger but coming away with a budding curiosity. Obviously there was only one option for me, because I didn’t have enough magic to hunt down and fight a monster. “Why do we have to leave? Why go back to your home, especially if they banished you?”
His expression darkened. “I was sent here to face a darkness, and I did. I have done what I set out to do, I met the requirements of my exile and now I need the weapon of my people to defeat the monster.”
I listened to the calmness of his tone and wondered, who was he trying to convince? Me or himself? “How do I know you will keep your word? How do I know you will return once you’re home?”
“Because my fate is tied to that monster, it is my mistake that set it free, and only my actions will ensure it is locked up again. It is out there. In the desolate places of the world, it will bid its time and then it will come. It’s not the beasts on the other side of the Boundary you need to worry about, it’s the one that’s here, within.”
For a moment, I wondered if he were speaking about himself, and the monster was only an allegory for magic. The way his words whispered in my mind andthe rough tones of his deep voice made my skin prickle. “What happensifI go with you?”
“It’s simple. We find the mirror and take the portal to my home. From there we seek the weapon, knowledge on how to use it and I will teach you Mirror Magic.”
He made it sound so simple. “And your people, how will they accept me—a mortal?”
He leaned forward. “Marry me.”
I stood up so quickly the chair fell over with a crash. My face felt hot and that desire I refused to name rushed to the surface. But no. He couldn’t mean it. He didn’t want methatway. “Did you just propose marriage?”
A wicked light danced in his eyes, as though he were enjoying my discomfort. “I did not expect to bind myself to a mortal, but the bonds of marriage will protect you in my land. I suspect you’ll have many offers . . .”
To my embarrassment, tears gathered in my eyes. “Why do you joke this way? Your offer is meaningless. I’m not yours to offer marriage to.”
A flash of white came as he grinned at me. “Why does my offer make you angry? Is it because you want more than hollow words? More than protection?”
He raised his eyebrows, daring me to respond. I’d expected to eventually marry, but not because an immortal prince offered me his protection. His offer was both insulting and demeaning. I scowled down at him. “I reject your offer,” I snapped. “I have Mirror Magic, I can protect myself.”
His laugh was deep and guttural, almost a snarl. When he spoke, the words were under his breath, but in the kitchen’s stillness, I heard them clearly. “Yes, the same way you protected yourself from the Venators.”
I spun on my heel, anxious to escape before I burst into tears.
Had Lyra known about this? She’d mentioned the prophecy and the fact that we were leaving. Had she known he’d also propose? All this time, everyone in this crumbling castle knew exactly what was happening but they’d left me in the dark while they planned and plotted. Just like my father. I was always the last to discover the truth.
“Esmira, wait.”
Grabbing my shoulder, Methrin spun me around and pushed me up against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of my head and angled his head down, leaning over me. The color of his eyes arrested me, the hues of purple, similar to the Boundary yet darker, enchanting. His pupils were large, round, crowding out the color of his eyes into a dark orb. It was only then I recognized what I looked at.
Orbs of desire.
My breath came short, but it wasn’t me he craved, it was my magic.
“If you change your mind . . .”
“I won’t,” I interrupted. And then, because I desperately wanted to change the topic of the conversation. “Show me the prophecy.”
But he didn’t move. His gaze flickered down myface, lingering on my lips, then returned to my eyes, a question in his. “You will come with me?”
“I will,” I breathed, because despite my anger and the feeling I’d been forced into a situation I had no control over, part of me was curious. I had nothing to lose.
Methrin led me into the depths of the castle, carrying a flaming torch. Old symbols were carved on the wall, an ancient taste tainted the air. We walked a labyrinth of winding halls and stone staircases until I felt as though I’d been buried under layers of old rocks humming with arcane magic.
Eventually the passageway widened and torches flickered on either side of the wall, guiding us into a cavernous library. Books were stacked on stone shelves, scrollstucked into crevices, to the side a stone table with a few chairs and in the middle, a pedestal. On top of it lay a tome, illuminated pages open. Lyra and Rydlin stood in front of the book and both looked up when we entered.
Rydlin stepped back from the tome, knobby fingers resting on a staff. “It is done?”
Methrin placed the torch in a slot near the doorway. “Yes, will you show Esmira the prophecy?”
“Come,” Rydlin beckoned, making room for me.
