Page 9 of Thief of Dreams
* * *
"Well,"says a voice by my side. "He's everything I've ever heard said of him. Whoever captures his attention is bound to find a wild ride. That prince won't take to the bit well."
It's the female who smiled when I called Narcissa inbred. Her hair is a riot of golds and reds, with a crown of brambles woven through it, but it's her eyes that are her most defining feature. They're the gold of a hawk's eyes, and her brows fan over them with a hint of a feathery curl.
She looks nothing like the others, in their silks and precious gems. Instead, she's wearing a gown of reddened autumn leaves threaded with thin gold chains.
"Whoever thinksthey'regoing to landhimhas another think coming." We both watch the prince, and I shake my head. "He's playing his own games here."
"Aren't we all?" She snorts.
And I glance at her a little more closely.
"Calliope of the Forest of Thistlewood," she says, in response to my unspoken question.
One of the Wild Fae who are owned by no court.
If anyone belongs here as uneasily as I do, it's her.
"The worm," I reply dryly, for that's what Narcissa and her friends have named me. "Though my friends may call me Merisel of Greenslieves."
"I think I'll call you Merisel," she says, scanning the gaggle of princesses who surround the prince, "as you have more than your share of enemies."
"You've noticed."
Another faint smile. "Pay them no mind. Narcissa's fighting for an ally to help her win her throne from her uncle, and Ismena needs to protect her brother's court. Apparently, Angmar's powers wane with the loss of his trident, and he has wolves poised at every door."
"Desperate means dangerous."
This time, there's a hint of a predator in her eyes. "I'm well guarded against their claws. And they've spent too much time in acivilizedcourt. They forget what it means to be the darkness in the forest. The huntress who bares her teeth. They're merely pretty dolls playing at court games, and when it comes time for bloodletting, they'll find my bite is worse than my bark."
Don't cross the Wild Faeis an old, well-known saying.
She looks at me. "But you're not a pretty doll. I can see the hunger in your eyes, and the baring of your teeth in every smile. We should be friends, you and I."
"Until the end?" I murmur, well aware that Calliope is playing her own games.
"An alliance until we're the last two standing?"
It won't hurt to have someone watching my back.
Until she thinks it time to remove me from the field of play.
"To hunting princes," I reply, with a smile.
"To hunting princes."
4
The first chance I get, I steal away through the palace to scope the lay of the land.
It's oddly silent in the lamp-lit hallways, and as I slip through them, I silently place myself on the mental map I have of the palace. Throne room, audience chamber, the gallery, the promenade.... There has to be a way to the lower floors where the treasury is sure to be. If anyone asks, I'll claim I'm lost.
Laughter echoes from above, startling me.
Apparently the prince is entertaining tonight.
Auditioning, I should say.
