Signs of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 1)

The wedding happened two weeks ago. It was everything a royal wedding should be. Opulent. Lavish. Ridiculously expensive. The bride looked stunning, the groom was handsome. There were so many toasts to the beautiful couple that the king eventually cut it off because he wanted to “get on with it.” I shared his sentiment.

I watched them consummate their marriage on their wedding night, and Princess Soora went to sleep that night feeling happy and loved. It’s like that saying, “ignorance is bliss.” It’s totally true in her case. I dreaded to see that look wash away when she found out the truth.

Since the prince’s indiscretion against his bedroom door, I’ve been on him like a beetle on dung. And he’s screwed a total of fifteen other women. Fifteen. Five and ten, in only two weeks! I’ve never felt like such a failure.

I’ve done everything I can think of to make things better. Every single time he’s with Princess Soora, I pounce on him with Flirt-Touches until I’m sure my invisible fingertips would be bleeding from contact. I’ve exhaled enough Lust into them both to impregnate the world. And don’t even get me started on the Love Arrows. I’ve lost count on how many of them I’ve let loose.

It doesn’t seem to matter. As soon as he’s away from her, the hound goes sniffing, and the hares spread their legs and go belly up for him to devour them. I watch the prince at dinner, ever the cool, pretentious royal. When I see him look at a woman down the table, I know he’s plucked his fruit for the night. He glances at his guard with the barest of nods to let him know. If I hadn’t learned to pay such close attention, I never would have noticed the exchange.

Sure enough, when the meal is over, he kisses his princess sweetly on the cheek and then retreats to his room. At a decided timeframe later, the guard escorts the woman to the prince’s rooms. I sigh and wait in the corridor as she disappears behind his bedroom door. I’m depressed. I really wanted this realm to be different. I wanted to at least be the reason for one perfect love. Just one perfect love. Couldn’t I have that? I mean, what kind of cupid am I? I suck.

I slump to the floor in front of the prince’s door and shake my head at one of the guards. “You’re a handsome fae, aren’t you,” I say thoughtfully. “Are you cheating on your spouse, too?”

One of the other guards starts telling him a story about last night’s drinking debacles that involved a magical brew responsible for giving someone named Himiny uncontrollable glitter flatulence. Yep. Sparkle farts. Apparently it’s a thing. 

“I don’t understand,” I say miserably, ignoring their laughter. “If you want to sex around, that’s fine. Just be honest about it. There’s plenty of love to go around. But I can’t get on board with the secrecy stuff. The disloyalty. The lies. I thought you guys were better at this here,” I say with a sigh. They might not be human, but I was wrong when I thought they were really any better at love. They just have a lot more adventurous sex.

The guards are still chuckling about the glitter farts, totally messing up my brooding, so I blow an uncomfortable amount of Lust at one of their faces. He gets all sorts of uncomfortable looking and quickly makes an excuse to leave his post. He practically runs down the corridor with his armored hands covering the front of his pants, while his compatriots howl in laughter. I hope he gets blue balls. Prince Elphar doesn’t get that. His balls get more attention than nipples in a wet t-shirt contest.

“I’ve only been here for four weeks and you guys have already pissed me off,” I say. “I could really use some cupid backup.” I tilt my head in thought. Yeah, that would actually be awesome. Maybe I should try to get yanked and make the suggestion to a superior? Instead of singles, they could start assigning us in pairs. Cupid Couples. Partners in Love. Desire Duos. It would make this whole job so much more tolerable if I had someone to do it with. Too bad the superiors wouldn’t listen to a thing I say.

I’m still considering my brilliant idea when I hear the worst sound in the world.

“Princess Soora?”

I snap my head up and look in horror at the princess coming this way. “Oh no.”

The guards standing outside the prince’s rooms exchange a look. “Princess Soora,” one of them says again. “How can we be of assistance?”

The princess stops in front of him. “I’ve come to call on my husband,” she says with a shy smile.

The guard clears his throat uncomfortably. “The prince is indisposed, my princess. He has asked for no visitors.”

Right at that moment, a very feminine squeal comes from behind the closed door. I see it happen. I watch Princess Soora’s eyes flick from the guard, to the closed door, and then back again. I see the embarrassed flush that floods her body, turning her a deep purple. I see the look of betrayal that fills water in her eyes. And thanks to my cupid powers, I can feel her heart breaking right there in front of me.

It’s a struggle to keep her composure, but she manages it somehow, because that’s how princess-like she really is. She lets out a low breath. “I see,” she finally says.

“You’re too good for him,” I tell her. “Don’t give that dog another thought. I mean, you didn’t even orgasm last time,” I remind her. “So that means he’s greedy. And inattentive. You could do so much better.”

“I’ll come at a later time,” she says.

I can’t help but snort with laughter at the double entendre. “That’s the spirit. Take care of yourself. You don’t need no man.”

She turns around and walks away, her two ladies trailing behind her. When she disappears around the corner, the guard visibly relaxes and turns back to the others. “Shit,” he says.

The second guard shakes his head. “That didn’t take long, did it?”

“Feel bad for her.”

The third guard shrugs. “She would’ve found out sooner or later.”

The first guard slaps him upside the head. “That’s our princess. Show some respect.”

Just then, the prince’s door opens, and all three guards jump to refill their proper positions by the wall. The woman slips out of the prince’s rooms with a giggle, winking at the guards as she goes.

“Hope you’re proud of yourself!” I yell at her retreating back.

I float through the wall and go into the prince’s rooms. With my hands on my hips, I scowl at him, ruffling my feathers and I fly towards him. Of course, he’s drinking again. “You suck, you know that? You have a lovely, beautiful, nice princess, and you go around screwing anything with a skirt and break her heart! If I could, I’d punch you right in your dangly bits.”

As usual, he just pours himself another drink.

The following weeks are terrible. Now that the princess knows, it’s like the prince cares even less for being discreet. Not that he was terribly discreet to begin with. But now, he openly flirts with the women around the palace. I’m forced to watch Princess Soora retreat into herself, like a drooping flower.

      During the days, she keeps up her polite princess duties, oftentimes forced to be in the company of the women who have cheated with her husband. During the nights, I watch her cry herself to sleep. When he visits her, their exchange is quick and completely one-sided. She participates only as part of her duty to produce an heir.

I do whatever I can to make the princess feel better, but I really can’t do much. She isn’t responsive to his flirting anymore, and lust is totally rejected. I even try to get the princess to fall in love with someone else, but she isn’t interested in that, either. No matter what I do to try to help her broken heart, I can’t keep the pieces from falling. I watch her weighed down with betrayal, hurt, and embarrassment, the dark circles under her eyes are proof of her sleepless nights. Instead of bringing in marital bliss to the monarchy, I’m watching matrimonial disaster.

I’ve had it. I thought I was bitter in the human realm, but this ordeal has taken me to a whole new level of resentment. Why do so many take love for granted? If I were corporeal, I’d love the shit out of someone. I’d take care of that love. I certainly wouldn’t toss aside someone’s love to have secret trysts in my bedroom.

It’s early afternoon and I’m standing in one of the prince’s studies where he’s set to have tea with the princess soon. Their conversations lately has been stilted and uncomfortable, although that’s mostly because of Princess Soora’s lack of talking. The prince, of course, acts as unmoved as ever, even though he knows she knows. I think he might be some kind of sociopath. Sometimes, it almost seems as if he likes rubbing his indiscretions in her face, like he’s daring her to say something. She doesn’t. I seriously consider leaving several times. I’ve even gotten so far as to fly out of the palace, but I keep coming back. I don’t know why. It’s not like I can do anything at this point.

The prince arrives in the study first, followed by another high fae. He’s around the prince a lot. I think he might be his advisor, although I don’t know his name. He’s slightly older, with pointy cheekbones and chin that make him look harsh. He has hair the color of pine needles and light green skin.

The princess still hasn’t arrived, so the prince and his advisor talk about some politics. Something to do with a race of unruly fae called alven. Apparently, they’ve decided to try and break away from the high fae’s rule. I decide I like the alven immediately.

Kitchen maids come inside the study and start setting the table for tea. One of them is a particularly pretty fae. Of course, as soon as he sees her, the prince stops the political talk and goes right over to her. His advisor pretends not to notice as he busies himself with a book from the shelf.

Prince Elphar corners the maid by the wall and soon has her giggling and blushing. But it’s when he stops a second maid that I really lose it. “Are you kidding me?” He has them both by the wall now, probably whispering all sorts of debauched things.

I can’t take it anymore. Something inside of me snaps. No. It explodes.

Screaming with all the terrible, consuming anger that’s been slowly boiling inside of me, I snatch up my bow and Love Arrows. Without hesitation, I aim and shoot. One after another. Set, pull, release, hit. Set, pull, release, hit. Over and over and over again, all of them hitting him right in the chest.

The arrows explode in puffs of black smoke, probably to match the color of his heart. I see them affecting him, but I’m too far-gone to stop. Every time I loose an arrow, my quiver fills with another. I see him shaking his head, as if trying to clear it. He stumbles away from the maids, but I keep aiming for him. I see two of his guards rush over to him. His advisor is shouting something, but I don’t hear anything because I’m still screaming and I’m still shooting. I hate him. I hate everything he does to love. I hate how many people love him, when he doesn’t deserve it at all. I hate everyone I’ve ever watched ruin love and take it for granted.

The prince has a murderous look on his face, and the next thing I know, he’s standing up with his arms raised, and sending a hurtling blast of high fae magic right in my direction.

The power smashes into me.

Not through me. Into me.

I feel it. Prince Elphar’s immense power crashes into me and I careen backwards, hitting the wall behind me like a rock. A loud crack fills my ears as I crumple to the ground, my bow and quiver crunching beneath me. Taking a painful breath, I shake my head to try and clear it.  That’s when I realize that my hands are touching the floor. I can feel pieces of splintered wood and broken glass stuck to my palms. I push against the floor and try to stand, but my limbs are shaky, the weight of my body completely foreign to me. I manage to stand on unsteady legs as I stare wide-eyed at my now solid body. There are sparks of white light crackling beneath my skin, running up and down my limbs like lightning bolts. “Holy shit,” I whisper.

I realize people are shouting. I look up to see the fae prince staring right at me. “You can see me?” I ask. My voice cracks, my throat raw and new. I look toward the doorway and see Princess Soora standing there, gaping at me. By the look on her face, I know she saw everything.

The prince snaps me back to attention when he shouts, “Guards! Arrest her!”

Oh, shit.

The guards across the room run for me. I don’t waste any time turning to the doorway to make a getaway, but the princess is blocking my way.

In a split second, I see her make a very deliberate decision as she takes an intentional step to the left to let me pass. Relief washes over me, but I don’t have time to stop and thank her.

I launch myself out of the room and skid into the open corridor. My legs don’t work properly and I stumble several steps, but I can’t stop going, because they’ll catch me and probably kill me. They probably don’t take kindly to people attacking the prince.

I reach the stairs just as one of the guards makes it into the corridor. My inexperienced feet falter on the steps and I fall and go rolling all the way down the marble stairs, landing in a painful heap at the bottom.

The only good thing about my fall is that it’s given me a head start from the other guards, but they’re already running down the steps after me.

I scramble to my feet and rush to the end of the corridor. I hear shouting as more guards start coming at me from downstairs, too.

I’ll be surrounded in seconds. I can’t go that way, and even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to handle going down another set of stairs, anyway. My legs are too new, my balance too inexperienced. But, seeing the window at the end of the corridor, I hope that maybe I can fare better with my wings.

I trip again, my legs shaking with exertion, and I slam into the wall. The guards are just a step behind me now. I hear a shout and I know they’re reaching for me, but I take one more running step even as my legs wobble and falter. With all the strength my legs have left, I jump and launch myself through the window. Glass shatters all around me, cutting into my arms, legs, and wings, and then I’m falling.

And falling.

And falling.

And falling.