Page 23 of Tricky Princess
“This isn’t magical?”
She snorted and shook her head. It was something, but she wouldn’t use the word magical to describe it.
“Florence can help you with fighting. I need you ready to take on the rest of the kings and their courts.”
“By dancing?”
“If I took you to a ball, what would you do?”
She thought of the only dancing she usually did and winced. It involved some type of fire, limited clothing, and being under the stars.
“Okay, sure, but what about my powers?” She wasn’t going to have much time with him, and she wanted to learn what he knew. He was ancient, and it seemed a bit easier to learn from someone you weren’t fucking.
He paused and then smirked. “Turn my pocket square into anything you can think of.”
Ellea glanced down to the satin square. As soon as she thought about turning it blue instead of green, she tripped so hard she almost fell on her ass. Azzy held her and laughed. “How about you learn the steps, then we can work on magic while moving?”
So they continued, turning and striding around chairs and tables. She half expected her powers to churn and be erratic. But they were peaceful, almost lulled by the music playing quietly from a small record player. It was an ancient melody that seemed endless and breathy. There was no singer, only instruments Ellea couldn’t place, and Azzy hummed with it. They only spoke of trivial things as he continued to be graceful for such a large man. And he was so very patient despite the amount of times she’d messed up or almost tripped him. But she was slowly picking up the movements and had finally stopped stepping on his toes.
“Is there anything else you plan on teaching me?”
What else would she need to learn to deal with all that she hadn’t seen yet? She didn’t want to be left out blinded to reality ever again. She wasn’t an ignorant child.
“I would like you to learn the old language, the layout of our realm, politics, and magic specific to Hel and its rulers. You seem to have history covered with the book you snuck to dinner last night.”
Ellea cocked her eyebrow, not able to find the words.
How does he know?
“I know your lies, even your magicked ones.”
“That must have been annoying for Ros while he was growing up.” She couldn’t help but smile, and Azzy answered with his own. “Did I do something wrong with the books? Borrowing them, I mean.”
He shook his head and guided her through one final rotation. “I need you to learn as much as you can. We’ll go over things while you’re here. Train with Florence when you can and meet me for lunch or tea, then we can work through things together.”
“Why?” Why did he want her to learn so much outside of magic? Why the history, the politics? She knew her reasons for it, but what were his?
They stopped in the middle of the room, and he searched her face. It felt like they stood that way forever, and she wondered if he’d forgotten what she asked.
“You need to have access to as much information and power as you can if you expect to survive this place.” She was about to interrupt him, reminding him she would be home soon, but he didn’t let her. “Don’t. I know I took you from your home, from my son. But you should trust me on this and utilize what I’m giving you.”
She shouldn’t, but it was hard to find a reason not to. Ros had ruined demons for her, and she was becoming too trusting. Looking at him, this powerful being and demon that had stolen her away, there was only trust and a feeling of comfort. It was strange, but she would go with it…for now.
“Okay, Azzy. What’s next?”
“Tea and talking.” He guided her toward a small table, and Reaver walked through one of the walls, a tray of drinks and snacks in his pale hands.
“Princess Ellea prefers coffee, my king.”
Ellea gifted the little demon a grin, one that had him almost dropping the tray.
Azzy pressed his lips together. “Thank you, Reaver.”
“Yes, thank you, Reaver,” Ellea said a bit too sweetly.
The demon slowly backed out of the room while they both fixed their drinks.
“Politics, history, or kings?” Azzy asked.
