“Explain,” I demanded, aware of taking the bait but he was too eager to share whatever information this was that he ignored my lack of pleading phrases.
“When did I start calling you sprout?” he tilted his head to the side, offering me his full attention.
“The very first time we met, and I told you I hated it,” I replied with a pointed finger.
“We met in the forest, when I attacked you. Did I call you sprout then?”
“No…” I hesitated.
With a sexy raised brow, Rhylan continued. “No, I started doing it after the visit at the mansion, when you were pulsating so much green light around, you looked like a leprechaun chasing a rainbow.”
“Rhylan, I don’t care about your pretentious wannabe funny jokes,” I sighed and wanted to turn my attention back to the so-called contract, but his voice made me turn back to him in an instant.
“When I first saw you at the mansion, dearest Anwen, you had already met the prince. And green is the colour of love.” He let his eyes follow mine for a second, making sure I understood his meaning, then returned to positioning himself in his seat.
One of the women came out to make sure our seatbelts were fastened and stayed a while to linger by Rhylan’s side, offering me enough time to grab a pen and mark my name in the empty space, just by Rhylan’s cursive writing. Because he was right. I started loving Ansgar from the first time I saw him, from the moment he threw himself in front of Rhylan’s power to save me. Now it was my turn to do everything I could to get him back.
I returned the parchment, which the faerie took and spread out slowly, checking for a signature.
Once he found it, his face relaxed and he urgently crinkled the paper back into his pocket.
“Splendid,” Rhylan smiled in delight.
Chapter Eight
I didn’t remember the amount of times I’d been to Serpium’s workshop. There was no point in trying to, there had been so many and each time they ended painfully. According to the king, this would be my final one, the worst of all the torture sessions I had been through in the past year.
Once Drahden finished his speech and threats in front of the entire court, he ordered the two commanders to escort me back to Serpium. Not because I had any ability to resist or fight back, but because my body remained so beaten after I’d been squashed against the marble walls like an unwelcome bug, that I physically could not stand.
The king proved his power, I could not deny that and all my intimidation tactics failed miserably. Not that I had time to execute too many, in between insolence and instigating anger, Drahden lost control and everything I had planned for the evening crumbled into nothing, just like my wounded body.
I was escorted out of the room and back into the dark tunnel in between cheers for the ruler and heckles for me. The court members spat on me, threw food in my direction, or insulted everything I stood for. The only positive side to all of this were the food scraps slowly accumulating on Crypto’s shiny armour as he and Marreth flanked and dragged me away. I sensed the anger rising in the third commander and how he hated me for ruining his one night in their great hall when he had finally escaped tunnel digging.
Too bad for him, but I was about to lose everything if the king spoke true. I did not believe it at first, did not understand how they could just change someone, make them forget, and realign their loyalties in such a way.
“Is it true?” I pushed my throat into speaking and tried to turn my head towards Marreth, who held the left side of my body, with more gentleness than his companion.
I did not know if he truly heard me or if he anticipated the question, but the first commander started speaking, much to his companion’s contempt.
“It will hurt.” He took another breath and pushed me a few steps, then added. “A lot. The more you fight it, the more damaging it is. You just have to let the poison run its course, prince. There is nothing else to do beyond this point.”
His words sounded heavy. As though he still remembered what his transformation felt like and struggled to see me go through whatever waited for me beyond those tunnels, deep into Serpium’s workshop.
I didwonder many times about Marreth, but everything became clearer once I learnt about his origin. He had been a soldier in the Wind Kingdom, and by Drahden’s words, he must have been amongst the bravest ones, to be chosen for such an ordeal. It surprised me to learn that a fae that did not hold origin in this court became the first commander, the strongest and most powerful one amongst all three, the right hand of the king. He must have earned the right through sweat and blood, but during all this time, he kept an innate kindness.
That meant hope. It signified that whatever they put inside me, I could still keep a part of myself, just as Marreth had maintained part of his good heart. I would fight it with every shred of power remaining. They would not make me forget. They would not take my memories away.
I would not betray my family and my kingdom, not again.
“Change of plans, Serpium,” Crypto kicked the door open and announced our presence with an annoyed huff. “The king wants you to put the worm in this one.”
The second commander and my designated torturer frowned and immediately started protesting. “We agreed that we will chop him up! I spent the entire day sharpening my hunting knives.” His voice sounded gruff and tired, annoyance resonating across the dark room.
“What can I say, he was idiot enough to piss off the king,” Crypto raised his shoulders and released my body abruptly, making my right half splatter on the floor, barely held in place by Marreth’s firm hold.
“Easy now prince, things are hard enough as they are, no need to add more injuries,” he murmured softly.
“What happened to him?” Serpium asked with newly discovered interest, enjoying my gory state. He truly loved blood, this one.
