Prince of Then: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 4)

Holly

“Tell me about the curse.” I elbow Elden as our gang of four meanders down the stone paths that wind through the town, passing dwellings and storefronts tucked into the hillside, their glittering stone and crystal facades blinding my mortal eyes.

Since we left the hall, the weather has taken a gloomy turn. Puffy clouds, the color of darkest amethyst stones, gather on the horizon, and gulls cry in the distance over a restless sea. Shivering, I wrap my cloak around my body.

“You mean Gade’s curse?” says Elden, battling the winds lashing hair over his face. He snaps his fingers, and the breeze untangles his yellow locks.

“What other curse would she be referring to, genius?” asks Mern as she leaps from the top of one low stone wall to next, her steps light as a feather.

“No need to show off your air magic, Mern,” says Voreas, flitting over the walls in a similar unnatural fashion. He lands beside me with an ungraceful grunt. “I’m sure Gade has already shown Holly his many talents. No doubt she’s quite bored by magic.”

Mern and Elden snicker as I huff in response and kick a stone out of my path.

“Small, incidental curses are common in Faery,” Elden says. “But those like our prince’s shape kingdoms and often lead to the death of the afflicted.”

“What? You mean the curse will kill him?” I blurt out.

A haunting song floats from over the ocean, and I stop walking and peer out to sea, searching for its singers.

“Don’t mind the sea witches.” Mern tugs me back into motion. “The Sea Court recently lost their newest babe to a kraken. They’ll cry out their grief for at least a sennight.

“The poor things.” I grimace, longing to cover my ears and block out the noise. “It’s such a heart-breaking sound.”

“Oh, this is nothing. Their revenge song is a thousand times more terrifying.” Mern pats my shoulder. “But you’ll likely be home by then and won’t have to hear it.”

“I hope so,” I say. “All going well, in five days’ time, I’ll be leaving.”

“Six,” says Mern, sounding like her haughty sibling.

I glance up the hill at a lone, hooded figure lurking in the shadows of the castle, possibly glaring down at us. The drape of the hood makes it hard to tell.

“Is that Lord Serain up there gawking at us like a bitter, old crow?” I spin Mern around by the arm so she’s facing the figure.

She looks up and laughs. “Yes, it is. He often skulks about spying on everyone. Don’t think you’re special, Holly.”

“He’s creepy.”

“He probably thinks the same about you.” Elden jumps off the wall that he’s been reclining on while picking his teeth with the longest rose thorn I’ve ever seen. “Humans are strange.”

I push him down the hill a little, and he laughs as his pointy boots slide over tiny stones.

“Is Gade really cursed to die?” I ask, a feeling similar to sadness filling my chest.

Mern links our arms, quickening my steps. “Not if he can find his fated one.”

“Fated what? Sword? Boot?”

“Mate,” all three fae answer, their eyebrows twisting at me as if they think I’m daft.

“I’m sure we mentioned Gade’s fated-mate dilemma back in the hut,” says Elden, scratching his sharp chin.

“Oh, do you mean when I thought you were talking about some unknown heir and didn’t realize you meant Gade because you were all lying to me?”

“Fae can’t lie,” says Voreas. “They were probably being careful with their words and circling the truth.”

I sigh. “I’m learning to pay more attention to what faeries don’t say rather than what actually comes out of your mouths. So, Gade is searching for a mysterious partner?”

“A chosen bride,” confirms Mern, leading us through a tall, quartz-lined tunnel in the hillside that comes out into a wild cottage garden teeming with medicinal trees and shrubs.

A small rendered cottage with a dark thatched roof squats against the far wall, hewn from the same black stone the cliffs and castle are made of.

“Who chooses this bride?” I ask. “And how does she stop Gade from dying?”

“It’s a long story,” says Mern, bringing us to a stop under an oak tree. “The short of it is this—since we are Elemental fae, our kingdom and magic is fortified by our five mages, Ether, the High Mage whose spirit unites all, Terra, who rules the earth, Undine, water, Salamander, the fire element, and Aer, the Sorceress of the Seven Winds. It is the last of these sisters who cursed my brother, solely because when he came of age, he rejected her love and refused to make her the Queen of Five.”

Voreas dances around us, further explaining the curse in a lilting voice. “If Gade finds and marries the mate whom the air mage has chosen before his poisoned blood kills him, he will be free and may even live a long and healthy life. But the curse will lie dormant in his first-born son, and upon Gade’s death it will be revived to destroy the power and mind of the next Heir of Five.”

Dawning horror chills my blood. “Why would one of your mages do such a terrible thing? Risk your kingdom like that?”

“For a simple reason. She’s insane,” says Elden. “Most Seelie fae resonate toward the light. But not Aer.”

“Where is this horrid Aer and the other mages you mentioned?”

Mern shrugs. “Everywhere, Holly. The breeze that caresses you now—that is Aer. The fire that warmed you in your chamber last night—Salamander. And the water you enjoyed at luncheon—Undine.”

My skin crawls as I scan the nearby shrubs, searching for a pair of wicked eyes.

“Do not worry,” calls a soothing voice.

In the cottage doorway, stands a creature no taller than my waist. “Close your mouth, girl. Haven’t you seen an elf before? Come closer so we can inspect each other better.”

I obey immediately.

She leaps onto a log that rests beside the door, which raises the top of her head to my collarbones, then takes my hands in hers. Her skin is brown, her curls black, and tiny horns curl at the side of her intelligent face.

“I am Mapona, matriarch of the clan of moss elves, and as you’ll soon see, a giantess among them.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Holly, a human captured by Prince Gadriel—”

“Captured?” Her golden eyes narrow. “That part of the tale is news to me. I heard you saved our future king’s life, and for that, I’m most grateful to you.”

Mapona ushers us through the cottage door, and Mern has to stoop to fit her horns through without catching them on the frame. The moment I step inside, an atmosphere of calm and order envelops me.

The white-washed walls and ceiling are barely visible through the drying racks, herbs, and healer’s tools that hang from them, but the round, pungently scented room is clean and tidy.

Light from the rear garden flows through a circular window, illuminating the measuring scales and bowls on the long, rectangular table in a wash of molten gold. The ceiling is high, but the furniture is set low to the ground to accommodate the elves’ height.

It’s a beautiful space, and I could easily occupy many hours here, digging through drawers, opening pots and jars to investigate their contents.

“Good afternoon.” Mern squats down in front of the table, greeting seven moss elves who are smaller in stature than Mapona, but wear similar bark-textured, gray-green clothing, have the same adorable curved horns, and peer out of matching curious golden eyes.

The elves speak fast, bantering happily with my friends who joke back in the same strange tongue, their gazes regularly catching mine as they openly discuss me.

“Please sit,” the healer says.

We perch on a wooden bench pulled up to the table facing the fire, our knees jutting high from the odd angle of our low seats.

Mapona sends the elves out to weed the garden, and then sits opposite us. “Holly, Aer cannot harm you within the city without risking exile. She may be unstable, and she often puts her own desires before our people, but she has recently sworn to protect all who live behind Talamh Cúig’s walls. But you must take care when you are beyond them.”

“Thank you,” I say. “That’s reassuring to know.”

With a flick of her fingers, Mapona sends an arc of green light spiraling around the room. Open-mouthed, I watch its dazzling path, my jaw dropping as the ladles in the pots hanging over the fire begin to stir themselves.

The healer chuckles, leans toward me over the table, and plucks my new necklace from the folds of my clothing. “Ah, I see you’re wearing the Morgana pendant. Nestera has protected you well. Be sure to heed its warnings.”

“She will,” says Mern, reaching into a bowl of nuts and seeds, stuffing a handful in her mouth. “Gade says she isn’t stupid.”

“Must you always talk with your mouth full?” chides Elden, shoving his own pile of nuts in his mouth. “I alone have been given leave to be so uncouth.”

“By who?” asks Mern.

“Myself.”

Mern throws a dried berry at Elden, and he opens his mouth and swallows it whole.

“I’m glad your brother acknowledges my mind is sound,” I tell Mern. “At long last, I can rest easy.”

Voreas bursts into laughter, thumping my shoulder and nearly shoving me off the bench. “You are jesting, human—”

“I have a name,” I remind him. “It’s Holly, and you should try using it.”

“I find your words very amusing,” he replies.

Elden shakes his yellow head. “We can see that.”

“They’re reversed truths,” says Voreas. “Too close to a lie for fae to easily duplicate the style, but nonetheless, entertaining.”

“I’m glad to be of service,” I say, dishing out another serve of the sarcasm he’s so fond of.

Voreas claims it’s difficult for fae to speak in mocking ways, but I recall hearing Gade do it more than once, but never without painful consequences.

“So, you are a healer,” says Mapona.

“Of sorts. My mother is remarkably skilled with herbs, and I’ve done my best to learn as much as I can from her.”

The elf snorts, shuffling over to her cutting bench. “What are these?” She points to dried plants hanging from the rafters.

“That’s mugwort.”

She sniffs and rubs her long chin. “Used for?”

“Among other things, it aids digestion and improves energy.”

“Yes, and this?” A bunch of dried roots are thrust into the air, dirt spraying everywhere.

“It looks like valerian, for sleep and to calm the nerves.”

“And this?” She shoves a mortar filled with crushed pink leaves under my nose, the sharp scent stinging my eyes.

I wrinkle my nose. “I haven’t smelled anything like it before. It’s unpleasant, but also rather appealing.”

“Good. For a human, you are truthful. This here is bone’s blush. With the right dose, it will bring a man to his knees. It has no effect on females, but if there is a certain male you wish to enslave… well, it is very efficient.”

Leering, she wraps three generous pinches in a square of muslin and presses it into my palm. “Take this. If I told you the exact quantity required, would you eagerly sprinkle a measure in some lucky fae’s goblet at tonight’s revel?”

I shake my head, placing the package on the table. “You’re very kind, but I wouldn’t use it.”

Mern laughs and pats Mapona’s hand. “Holly has no need for attraction magic. I know of at least one male in our city who is already enchanted by her natural charms.”

I frown at Mern, wondering if she might be referring to Elden. He’s very friendly and takes every opportunity to touch me in an incidental but, I suspect, likely innocent way.

Voreas folds his arms over his silver-studded leather jerkin, grinning slyly at me. Could Mern mean him? It wouldn’t surprise me at all if the mischief maker wanted to bed a human and satisfy his curiosity.

Gade’s advice upon arriving at Castle Black flashes through my mind: trust no one, he said. But my instincts tell me that Voreas, Mern, and Elden’s friendship is real and they would never hurt me on purpose.

Mern lifts a bowl of mixed herbs, passing it to the healer. “Care to show Holly your remarkable skills, Mapona?”

“Of course, Princess.”

Holding the bowl in her right hand, Mapona closes her eyes and raises her left. She cocks her head and sniffs the air. “Ah, Holly must view my tricks another day. The prince comes.”

“What?” I quickly scan the room, searching for somewhere to hide.

I’m not ready to see Gade again so soon. The business in the Great Hall earlier was enough face-to-face prince time to last me until the end of my visit.

“Mern, Elden, Voreas, come and help me in the garden,” says the healer, beckoning them toward a door covered by a thick tapestry curtain.

My friends troop after her, disappearing into a room beyond, and I follow. Mapona stops me on the threshold and pushes me backward. For an elf whose head only comes to the top of my pelvis, she’s remarkably strong.

“Not you, Holly. Someone must remain to greet the prince.”

“But why me?”

She smiles. “Because it is you he wishes to see.”

Before I can object or question her ludicrous statement, the curtain whips closed on her backside.

A moment later, a bell chimes, and the prince strides through the door alone, no attendants or courtiers in sight.

Instead of the formal, fur-embellished midnight doublet he wore at luncheon, he is dressed in heavy fighting boots, black leather trousers, and a vest studded with metal spikes that could take my eyes out if I happened to get too close—which I don’t intend to do.

“Prince Gadriel,” I say, dipping my head.

Since he’s practically a king, a curtsy would be a more appropriate greeting, but I can’t bring myself to fawn over the fae whose brow I spent sleepless nights wiping herb-infused cloths over.

His dark hair flies like raven feathers as he surprises me with a dramatic bow. “Greetings, human,” he says, a smile flickering on the edges of his mouth.

“How many times must I tell you to call me Holly? Would you like it if I called you by the name of your species all the time?”

“When first we met, you did exactly that. But likely, I wouldn’t mind what you called me as long you were thinking of me.” He smirks and struts around the room, hands clasped behind his back. “Seven,” he says, nonsensically.

“Pardon?”

“Seven more times you must remind me to call you Holly. After that, I will try very hard to never call you human or mortal again.” He goes over to the bone carvings and pots of medicine dotting a shelf and gives them a thorough inspection.

When it becomes clear he’s not going to explain his presence, I finally ask, “What are you doing here?”

Ignoring the question, he points at his chest and indicates his clothing, drawing my eyes to the black and gold tattoos of ivy that circle his muscular biceps, then the long black sword hanging from his hips, his tousled dark hair, and the dirt smeared across his cheekbone. At present, a plain circlet of twisted, black metal graces his brow.

“I was training by the smithy and saw your party pass by in the distance,” he says.

“So you followed us here, then?”

“No.” He stares at the fireplace. “I came by my own pathway across the battlements, then through the coral hedges.”

Interesting. It’s not exactly a denial. But it is likely he saw us pass and could tell by our direction where we were headed. Also, it would be impossible for him to deny following us if he hadn’t paid close attention to which path we took to the apothecary. To me, it sounds very much like he did follow us.

“I see. And you’ve come to ask Mapona for a tincture to promote your healing?”

“Not exactly.”

“Perhaps you’re here to make your own tincture, then,” I suggest, teasing him with my words and a challenging grin.

“And risk dismemberment?” He returns my smile. “Certainly not. I wouldn’t dare encroach on the healer’s sphere of excellence, nor upon yours, Holly of Donore, since you undoubtedly possess similar skills.”

I don’t recall telling him the name of my village. But at some point during our time together in the shepherd’s hut, I must have done so.

My mind races. I’m not comfortable with a future king of Faery knowing how to find me after I leave his realm. I could pretend my village is far from Donore. I could lie. But I don’t.

The tattoo glyphs on his hand and arms flare to life as he steps closer. I walk backward until my calves hit the bench.

“I came here because I wished to see what Mapona made of you,” he says, his husky voice almost a whisper.

“She doesn’t appear worried by my presence in your kingdom, if that’s what you mean.”

“But did she name you a blessing or a curse?”

“Is she in the habit of making such pronouncements?”

“Frequently. In fact, she is known for it.”

“Mapona called me neither to my face. I suppose you must ask her directly for her true assessment,” I reply.

“Strange, but she isn’t here,” the prince says, looking over the walls, and then ducking his head under the table in a pretend search.

I swallow a laugh. “After announcing your visit, she swiftly disappeared. What reason would a healer have to hide from her prince?”

“Good question.” He taps his chin. “Perhaps because my magnificence is too painful to look upon.”

This time, my laughter escapes me. “Well, I certainly agree with part of that sentiment.”

Surprising me, he laughs too. “Let us ask her, then.” He lifts his chin and bellows, “Mapona, show yourself.”

“Your Majesty,” says the moss elf as she appears in front of Gade, bowing low. “It is rare to have the pleasure of your company in the apothecary. How may I be of service today?”

“I’d like to know your opinion of this mortal who helped me in my time of need.”

“As her name suggests, she is a bringer of peace, luck, and protection, a blessing if ever I’ve seen one made of flesh and bone.”

“But holly berries are poisonous, are they not?” Gade asks.

Mapona smiles. “Only if they are ill-used. The wise among us know how to bring out Holly’s best qualities.”

Gade turns to me. “So, it seems you have received Mapona’s approval.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What did you expect? Here you stand, living proof of my good nature. And should you wish to demonstrate yours, you can tell me what you and your councilors have planned for me. And while you’re granting favors, you can give me leave to be absent from tonight’s feast.”

“Unfortunately, at this moment, I can satisfy neither of your requests.” He cuts me a short bow. “I’ll see you at dinner. And do not be late.” Then he disappears through the front door in a blur of motion.

“Did he just vanish into thin air?” I ask Mapona.

“No,” says Mern as she enters followed by Elden and Voreas. “My brother can’t transfer like the Merits. But while he’s here in the kingdom, his power is stronger than when he’s traveling, and he can move with extraordinary speed.”

She dips her fingers into a bowl and flicks silvery powder on my face. It stings.

“Ow. What was that for?”

“A charm, so you can eat our food, including the fruits and treats that are known to beguile humans, and remain unaffected.”

“Very useful. Thank you.”

Mapona pats my hip. “I’m sure Gadriel will answer all your questions at tonight’s revel. But I warn you, you made a tactical error showing your eagerness to know of your fate. Never give a male power to manipulate you for his own schemes if you can help it.”

I cross my arms and shift my weight. “Which in his case are?”

“Our prince’s foremost wish is likely the pleasure of your company this evening, Holly. But after that, I cannot say what he wants from you because he doesn’t yet know himself.”

And that is precisely what worries me.