Page 51 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
“Oh. That brand he had, you know, with the pony, it’s faded.” It was black like a fresh tattoo, but now only a faded scar is left, as if the ink has evaporated from the corpse.
“A kelpie.”
“What?”
Sylvan pushes some hair off his forehead and looks up at me. He’s so serious I can hardly believe he’s the same guy who moaned and cried out under me just an hour ago, drooling all over the rug.
“A kelpie. It’s a monstrous steed which tempts unfortunates to pet it. Once your skin sticks to their coat, they force you back into the ocean where they drown and eat you. In the sea, its hind legs transform into a fish tail.”
“So like a merhorse?” I ask, grinning at him, and approach to offer my assistance when he climbs onto a stool to grab a large crate from the top of the pile in the back of the storage space. He still can’t reach it.
He frowns at me, and I worry we’ll be having the ‘ask-for-help’ conversation again, but he huffs, rubs his face, and gestures at the crate.
“Yes, I suppose like a ‘merhorse’. The point is that the brand would have alerted the Lord of the Nocturne Court if he crossed into the Nightmare Realm, but since he’s dead, the magic has faded as well. Fortunately, the brand I had was on my collar, so we should have time to get to the palace on our terms. I know of several secret entryways.”
I place the crate on the floor, but then approach him and slide my arms around his waist before burying my face in his nape. Whatever’s bugging him, it’s high time to put an end to it. “Are you this smart, or is alchemy common knowledge where you’re from and dissolving a body is as easy as boiling an egg?”
He stiffens as if he wasn’t a marshmallow in my arms before.
“I… hmm… I am, in fact,verysmart,” Sylvan says, making me chuckle and kiss his head. “I know I may have seemed incompetent to you at times because of my lack of knowledge when it comes to the human realm, but I assure you I am highly educated. In fact, I know more about alchemy and specialist ingredients than most scholars at the Nocturne Court.”
“Really? Why?” I ask, greedy for more information, but he twists out of my embrace and steps off the stool, popping open the crate. Inside are leather bags the size of a pound of sugar, and I reach for one, curious what they are.
“What do you mean ‘why’? It’s important to get any advantage you can over your opponents. And don’t touch that before I read the label and tell you it’s safe!” Sylvan slaps my hand away, and the rejection is much more hurtful than any physical pain he can cause. He takes a deep breath. “In fact, could you please wait outside this room? I need to focus.”
I open my mouth, wanting to protest and tell him that he isn’t being fair, but I know from experience that nothing good ever comes from pushing another guy into a conversation when he isn’t in the mood. Still, it stings to be pushed away right after the amazing fuck we shared, and a conversation where I gave up on all posturing and told him how I felt.
I’ve often been told that I get too intense too fast, and that it pushes guys away, but I couldn’t help myself after he pretty much confessed that he loves me.
Come to think of it, his demeanor rapidly changed after he decided to shower, andthatwas right after I told him the stupid dream I had. Was he upset by something about it? Should I have lied and claimed I sawhimin my dream, not just someone with similar features?
I was only honest with the guy who claims he wants to get hitched within the next twenty-four hours.
I’m about to say all that and many other things, but I watch him browsing the labels with focus all over his face and decide against it. I retreat like a scolded dog.
I hate that he has so much power over me.
And yet, all I still want is to prove to him that I can be useful for more than my shadow and dick. I can help him find more ingredients and bring them to him, I can rummage through the smith’s place and find who knows what.
I go back to the living room and glance at the unfinished letter, in case it contains some information important to us, but it’s all cryptic bullshit addressed toLord Kyran’s eyes onlyabout him having somethingof importance, and that hewill negotiateonly with the Lord himself.
Sadly, the letter is unfinished, and since Tassarion’s body is stuck in a tub, it never will be, so this plan he had is as dead as him.
I rummage in the living room and find some trinkets in a small box hidden inside a suit of armor. I hate myself a little for thinking one of the dark rings studded with what might be precious gems would fit Sylvan’s dainty finger, but I still take it.
I grab a sturdy silver sword off the wall, in case I’ll need it where we’re going, but as I head to the forge, I glance back at the window through which I can still see my world. The only world I know. Am I ready to leave it behind?
I might be going to a place with no plumbing, internet, or modern medicine. On the other hand, I would no longer need to worry about the cops dragging me back to prison, and could spend my days satisfying a very hot twink and lazing around in a palace.
Though right now, I feel that my boy might just resent me for reasons I don’t understand. Which is a load of bullshit.
I kick the pretty cabinet standing by the nearby wall, and stall when something inside it clicks. Frowning, I look it over beforegetting to my knees to see… a box. It must have fallen out of some secret compartment when the position of the dresser changed.
There’s nothing unusual about the box, other than it being the size of a microwave and made of rough, undecorated iron, but as I open it, my jaw drops at the sight of a mask shaped like a wolf skull.
It’s made of gold or some other metal very similar to it. I’m no specialist, and it does have an iridescent sheen to it like nothing I’ve ever seen. Its eyes are two smooth black stones, and the sharp teeth are carved out of some kind of crystal. From the part at the very top, several thin rods made out of the same metal as the mask stick out.
I knowexactlywhat to do with it.
