Page 50 of Tricky Princess
Azzy ignored his comment as they all got seated.
“I would say she’s flourishing here; she practically took your arm off.” He sipped his wine, looking thoughtful and devilish. “A fifteen hundred-year-old demon prince, son of one of the most powerful witches—”
“Don’t talk about her,” Ros cut in.
“Why not?” He leaned forward, staring at his son. “She was my queen, my only love—”
“And you couldn’t save her!” Ros interrupted again. “The same won’t happen for Ellea.”
Ellea leaned back, cradling her glass of wine as they dove right into the family drama part of dinner. Azzy didn’t back down, and she felt grateful for their discussions of Esmeray.
“Reaver,” she whispered as Ros and Azzy continued to bicker.
“Yes, my prin—Ellea,” he said, clearing his throat.
“I know Duhne is partially mad at me.” He may have been helping her, but he didn’t like it. “But did he sneak in some tequila?”
“Actually, he did,” he whispered back, pulling at his collar uncomfortably.
“I would like some tequila, please, with something citrusy,” she requested, handing him her goblet of wine.
“Right away,” he said before disappearing.
She regretted giving him her glass; she didn’t have anything to hide behind as their bickering became more aggressive. They should fight it out; someone should get them some clubs and her some popcorn. She bet the others would enjoy it too—except maybe Garm.
Sam.
She sent up a silent plea to anyone listening that her puppy of a friend would be okay. The healer had mentioned possible scarring and permanent damage from the poison. The little wine she’d had soured in her stomach, and it all but came up when Azzy began shouting.
“I think you should let her decide for herself.”
“I think we should eat before the food gets cold,” Ellea added.
Both men glared at each other. Did they forget she was here?
“How’s Sam?” Ellea asked Ros. Billy and Garm being in Hel wasn’t hard to see, but Sam and Devon? She wanted them on the next train out of here.
“He’s sleeping in a new room, and Devon is by his side. I checked on him before I came here, and he’ll be excited to see you when he’s more lucid. Then we can get you home.”
Ellea chewed her lip and looked down at her empty plate. How was she supposed to tell him she wanted to stay, that she finally felt she was doing something good, something right? A nagging feeling reminded her she had her parents to deal with on top of the messed up rules of Hel.
“Good,” she said, grabbing some food for her plate to do something with her shaking hands. “My parents?”
She hated to ask, having buried them in some dark part of her mind. Reaver appeared with a tall drink.
“Thank the Gods,” she said, quickly taking it from him and taking a tentative sip. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”
She gripped his small arm, and his big green eyes widened to saucers. He quickly pulled away, and Ros let out a growl across from her. Reaver stood tall and took a step back.
“If you need anything else, my prince, my, er, Ellea, my king…” He bowed and shimmered away.
Azzy shook his head and huffed a laugh. “Stop scaring the poor demon.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Ellea whined.
She’d thought they were finally getting past his initial fear of her. Her powers manifesting on their own weren’t helping. It was fun in the beginning, but now she wanted the demon to trust her, especially now that he had access to her favorite drink.
Ros cleared his throat. “There have been some disturbances. Minor accounts that we can’t quite place on them. Your grandmother and uncle are worried about you, but they are safe.”
