King of Always: Chapter 17

with you,” calls a voice from the aviary’s entrance. The loud, grating tone frightens the bluebird on my shoulder, sending it fluttering and chirping into the branches above my head.

Excellent. Just as I’d hoped, my new buddy, Temnen, has come seeking another friendly tryst.

Over the past week, we’ve had quite a few cozy chats, which is thrilling for him, droning on and on about his favorite person—himself. But for me, it’s about as fun as one of the lectures Max gives me when I leave the grill on overnight after a shift.

So, yeah, I kind of sorta lied to Raff—I’ve only been staying away from of the Merit princes, and that’s only because I’m still working out how to get Riven alone. Once I do, I won’t be staying away from , either.

“Human?” says Temnen as he opens the aviary’s curling metal gates and prances inside.

Hiding behind a feathery gray bush that’s dotted with bright-gold berries, I stay silent.

.

“Human, I know you’re in here. The bird attendants saw you enter.”

Because I made sure they did.

I paste a phony smile on my face, then pop out from behind the branches like a demented jack-in-the-box. “Good morning, Prince Temnen. I am aware which species I belong to. No need to keep reminding me.” I force a tinkling laugh.

“Ah, I see you there by the stream!” He struts forward, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a haughty expression and a black cloak made of noisy, swishing fabric covered in green-copper points.

He looks impressive until you notice the mile-high platform heels at the end of his black boots that tell you he’s overcompensating for something—most likely his tedious personality.

As he kisses my hand, I suppress a grimace and arch a cheeky eyebrow. “If I addressed you as Prince Temnen all the time, it might start to annoy you eventually.”

“True. It would become a bore and you would need to be dealt with.”

Dealt with? Hm. That sounds unpleasant.

“When I decided to look for you after breakfast, this was the first place I came. You seem rather fond of the birds.”

“They’re amazing.” The aviary is a wondrous place, strange and beautiful, teeming with exotic, colorful birds like macaws and parakeets—the whir of their mechanical wings a comforting sound as they flit through the pastel trees.

“And these little guys are hilarious.” A group of otter-like creatures with long fangs frolic in the stream that meanders through wild grasses, shrubs, and rambling flowers, leaping and rolling as they dunk each other under the water.

“Yes, the river reapers are most entertaining.”

“Reapers? That’s a ridiculous name for the sweet, little furballs.”

“If you saw what they change into at night time, you would not say that. The cage around the aviary exists to keep more than the birds in.”

The entire complex is roughly the size of a large concert arena. Under the spectacular, metal-filigree domed roof are bright sections, expansive and alive with color, while others are dark and shadowed and riddled with secrets.

While I wait for Temnen most days, I like to spend a little time in both areas, listening and watching closely. Light and dark—they both have things to teach me.

After my first meeting here with the Merit prince the day following the horrific Blood Sun ceremony, I realized the aviary is the perfect place to continue to lure him to—the birds and tiny animals keep me from falling asleep while he prattles on about himself and his ever-rising statistics.

“This is beautiful,” I say, for once not lying to him. “Where’s Olwydd today?”

“He eats too many of the smaller birds, which is amusing but nearly always gives him indigestion. Therefore, I’ve banned him from accompanying me today.”

Shame. Olwydd is better company than his master.

My arms splay wide as I spin in a circle, stopping to watch a group of fluorescent-orange birds fly through the twisted branches of a golden oak. “Most of the city’s outdoor spaces are ordered and industrial, but the aviary is wild. Untamed. It’s perfect.”

For a moment, he looks annoyed by my opinion, then his creepy eyes scan my pendant again. “Your statistics are marvelous! Your approval rating has tripled this week. I admit I am surprised a human has become so popular with my people.”

I smile, turning toward a sculpture of a sundial so I don’t have to look at him. Every time I do, I can’t help picturing his violent expression as the blood gushed from that poor pixie’s throat.

Swallowing my rage, I say, “Well, I guess you Merits have good taste.”

He gestures to a woven-branch bench seat nearby. “Do you wish to sit?”

“I’m happy standing.” That way I don’t have to get too close to him.

“What do you imagine your next fabulous invention might be as our change-bringer?”

“Well…let’s see…” I have no idea, so I say the first thing that enters my head. “I think I’ll design special airplanes and an airport.”

His orange eyes widen and glow. “The flying machines from your world? Yes, I have heard tales of them. Father will adore this new venture.”

To stop myself from laughing, I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing Raff in that lonely, dark cell. When I open them a moment later, Temnen is way too close, his black-tipped fingers reaching for my hair.

He picks up a long strand and tugs it painfully. “For a human, you are exceptional. My father and Lidwinia are extremely impressed with you. Do not mind what Riven thinks. His opinion is worth less than the cooks who toil in the kitchen.”

Little does he know he’s speaking to someone whose favorite pastime is in a kitchen.

Expression intense, he clutches his pendant like it’s his most beloved possession, his gaze sliding over my body. “Isla, even now, as the pet I stole from the Elemental court, you add great value to my status. But if you were to be my bride, I would be the envy of every male in the court, and my father would have no choice but to reconsider which of his sons truly deserve to inherit the Throne of Merits.”

“But I thought your laws specified that only the oldest son can—wait, did you say ?”

“Yes,” he whispers, antennae pointing at me rather vulgarly. “I am suggesting you become my betrothed. It will be advantageous to us both and a perfect revenge against the Elemental Court.”

Oh sweet Lord. If on pain of death, I had to choose a Merit to marry, I’d pick Lidwinia every time. We’d get along fine.

He steps forward. I step backward, stumbling over a tree root. The backs of my knees hit a bench seat and I sink down onto it, grim reality heavy on my shoulders. Why did I beg Sally Salamande to send me through that portal?

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

“Are you quite well?” Temnen asks as he sits next to me, his hand draping across my thigh like a limp octopus tentacle.

I can’t get a word past my seized-up throat muscles, so I just nod.

“Good. Good. It is understandable that you are overcome with excitement, for it is a great honor to secure the affections of a Merit prince. Now, what was I saying?”

I can’t remember. No doubt something shockingly boring. Or just shocking.

“Oh, yes. I was pointing out that since you are a change-bringer, you will bring me great renown and fortune. Are you pleased with the idea?”

Nope, terrified. And extremely cheesed off at this bizarre turn of events.

Antennae bristling, he leans in, his lips parting like moist black slugs waking up and rolling over for breakfast.

“Noo…” I turn my head away and attempt to look flattered, but shy, as if my greatest desire is to lock lips with the dreadful prince if only my virtuous nature would allow it. “Please, Temnen. You mustn’t do that.”

I use my best judgy tone, the one that makes rude customers at Max’s diner turn red and apologize for their half-sweet, non-fat, vegan caramel macchiato orders. Just FYI, I never guilt trip the polite customers, no matter how annoying their orders are.

“You do not find me attractive?” He pouts in disbelief.

I’ve never been more grateful for the ability to lie. “Of course I do! It’s just that…we don’t do that back home. I mean, before the…ceremony. If my mother found out, she’d murder me in my sleep.”

So, so, so not true. I swallow quickly as I realize how close my comment cuts to his mother’s death at the hand of the king. Luckily, he’s too obsessed with himself to notice.

His pupils dilate to the max, turning his eyes a creepy black. “Your people do not enjoy their partners prior to marriage?”

“No,” I lie again. “And we don’t kiss each other either.”

“But I’ve heard reports from fae who have visited your world, Merits even. They say many humans indulge in bed sports without marriage vows.”

Crap. “I didn’t think you could travel to my world.”

“I admit it is difficult, but not impossible. Your moving films—wonderful inventions, a true melding of magic and technology—provide evidence of humans’ love of debauchery.”

“Really? You’ve seen a movie?”

“No. But when I was a child, I met a fae who had been to a mortal house of films.”

“You mean a movie theater.”

“Yes, a moving theater; that is what I said.”

I stifle a laugh, and he leans closer, extinguishing my tiny flash of humor.

“We Merits follow our passions wherever they may lead us. The more depraved the better.”

My heart flips, then sinks to my stomach as my frozen smile melts away. “Where I come from, our traditions are different. Suitors who force unwanted attentions onto their betrothed are reviled and looked down upon.”

“I see. They are disliked and unpopular. Since you are such a prize and your approval rating is soaring, I will cede to your wishes, my dear mortal.”

Relief flows through me. “You will?” I bite back my elated smile.

“Yes.” He stands and struts around like a rooster, flicking his cape behind him. “If you will seal our betrothal with a chaste kiss, then you have my word—I will wait until our wedding night to avail myself of your charms.”

Ugh. Do I really have to kiss him? I’d rather make out with a cockroach. Or an iguana. Am I really going to go through with this and pretend to be betrothed to Temnen?

A pair of amber wolf eyes appear in my mind. A Wild mane of chestnut hair with delightfully pointed ears peeking through it. Warm, soft lips. That intense haughty stare. Raff.

I mentally push those images away and let a plan form, one that involves banquets and guests and distracted pompous Merits. This may be the best chance I’ll ever get. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it slip by.

“Have you fallen in love with me?” I ask, fluttering my lashes like a dummy.

His gaze flicks off mine and dances over the leaves of the golden oak tree. “I have fallen in love with the idea of what we can become together.”

Ha, ha. Good save. I pout. “Do you at least think I’m pretty?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You are plain but pleasant enough to look upon, for a human.”

“Under your guidance, perhaps I will improve in time.” Ugh. Vomit. “Will there be a feast to celebrate our betrothal?”

“Yes, of course. The grandest affair you can imagine. Everyone in the land will wish to attend. Sea witches. Brags and boggarts. Shades. Pookas. Ogres and skinwalkers. All the kingdom’s Dark Bringers! What a triumph it will be.”

I peer around his shoulder, pulling an amazed expression at the sundial behind him. “Oh! The time’s gone by so fast. I’m so sorry, Temnen, I have to race. I forgot your sister is expecting me.”

“Lidwinia? What could she possibly want that is more important than speaking with ? My sister can wait.”

“Actually, she can’t. She wanted help to choose a design for a Solstice festival gown. There’s a particular fae coming from the Shade court, and she wants to impress him. Exciting, isn’t it? Maybe she’ll be betrothed soon too.”

It’s not exciting. Utter baloney is what it is. Lidwinia couldn’t give a fig about gowns, and as I suspected, Temnen doesn’t know his sister very well because, if I’m correct, annoyance is making his antennae wriggle, not anger at my latest lies.

I feign wide-eyed innocence. “Would you like to come with me and help? I’m sure she’d appreciate your advice. She’s deciding between two awesome designs. One is a russet organza with tiny machines—”

“Enough! I have no desire to hear the details.” He sinks back onto the bench and waves me away with both hands. “Hurry along. You are already late.”

“I understand, my love. I can’t wait to tell Lidwinia our news.” Ouch. Those words scalded my tongue—now I know how Raff must feel when he tries to lie. “You have more important things to do.” Like tear wings off helpless creatures.

My skin crawling, I leap up, curtsy, and then lean in to peck him on the lips, nausea churning my stomach.

Forcing a saucy wink, I step back and say, “There. Consider our betrothal sealed.”

He grips my tunic, pulling me into his face again. He bites my bottom lip, drawing blood.

“Ow!”

Licking blood from his lips, he smirks. “I look forward to announcing our engagement to the court after dinner tonight.”

I smile sweetly, wiping my mouth. Then I lift the hem of my tunic and dash through the aviary and exit into the walled garden surrounding it, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Outside, the sun blazes high in an azure sky scattered with puffy, purple-tinged clouds. I draw the sultry air deep into my lungs and walk quickly toward the wall and a set of thorn-covered gates, closing them behind me with a loud click before I rush along the ordered streets that surround the Meritorium.

Then, with my gaze fixed on black spires and the massive ornately framed glass panels that make up the back wall of the castle, I scale the winding alleyways, crowded with fae going about their business, and head for the servants’ entrance.

When I enter the kitchens on the bottom level, the smell of roasting meat makes me dizzy, and I yell cheery greetings to the cooks, so I’ll be heard above the clank of pots and general hustle and bustle.

Thankfully, no one stops me as I duck up the servants’ stairs and breeze along back passageways until I reach the floor Lidwinia’s wing is situated on.

I stride through a grand hallway that’s lined by green columns marbled with gold, thinking of Raff bored out of his mind on the stone floor of his dark cell, the cruel contrast of the castle’s luxury making anger swirl hot through my veins.

As my supposed fated mate, how will the fire prince react to news of my fake engagement? Truth be told, I’d rather be stuck with arrogant Raff forever than horrible Temnen. Even in a cell. And especially in the dark.

In fact, if I didn’t know about the dumb curse and the prophecy Raff is obsessed with, I’d probably have a major crush on him. But I have no desire to be with a guy who only wants me because I can allegedly fix all his problems.

I don’t have a savior complex. I want to be loved in my own right, on my own terms—and maybe for the rhapsodic delights of my baked pastries.

By the time I reach the princess’s chambers—a series of black crystal-lined rooms decorated with tumbling green vines and deep-red furnishings—my mind is full of images of what life with Temnen might entail. Sitting next to him at every single meal for the rest of my life, his sour features my first sight each and every morning, kissing him while those slimy antennae-things stroke through my hair or suck out my marrow. No thanks. I must take great care I don’t end up living in that particular alternate reality. I’d rather die.

Me a Merit princess? Nope. No way.

When I burst into Lidwinia’s sitting room, she takes one look at my face and sends her ladies scampering like mice out the double doors, their giggles trailing behind them.

“What has happened?” she asks as she stops sharpening a bone arrowhead, laying it down on a pile of split shafts and feather fletching.

The girl loves her weapons, and going by the leather outfit she’s wearing, I’d say she’s not long returned from a hunt.

“Temnen wants to marry me,” I announce without preamble.

“What?” She covers a laugh with one hand, the other beckoning me forward. “Come sit beside me. That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.”

“For me, it’s the most disgusting. Sorry, no offense meant to your family. You’re perfectly wonderful. Your brother, not so much.”

“None taken.”

I contemplate the metal spiders decorating her leather corset, while she frowns and scratches her neck. Long gold legs wriggle as the largest one crawls to her shoulder. “Lidwinia, I don’t want to freak you out, but that spider’s moving.”

“Oh that’s just Rothlo. He only hurts flies. Do not fear him.”

Eight emerald eyes swivel my way, each one of them glaring at me.

“Hi Rothlo,” I say, just in case he can understand me.

Lidwinia gets up and paces across the room. “Isla, this is grave news indeed. I cannot let you marry my brother. Cruelty is his greatest pleasure, and I will not let you suffer at his hand. You must speak with Riven tonight and put a plan for escape in place. It is decided—I must tell you how to find him.”

“But Riven has barely bothered to look my way. Why would he care what happens to me and Raff?”

“Believe me, he cares. He desires lasting peace with the Elemental princes and their heirs. He will help you. As soon as he rises from the dinner table this evening, you must do the same. Move quickly and go to the arched stairwell behind the dais. It is on the left as you look at it. Wait there and Elas will meet you with a torch. After Riven passes by, take the torch and follow at a safe distance.”

“Where will he be going?”

“Down. I can say no more. When he discovers you, plead your case. He will listen, and I promise he will not hurt you, Isla. I know my older brother well. He is nothing like Temnen.”

“Thank you,” I say as I approach Lidwinia. I place a hand on her shoulder, and the spider races up her neck, disappearing into her green hair. “Sorry, Rothlo. I didn’t mean to squash you.”

Lidwinia draws me close, squeezing the breath out my lungs with a quick hug. “Don’t worry about Temnen. Ultimately, he’s a coward.”

“And very strong.” I laugh, rubbing the ache from my ribs.

Leaving the princess to tinker with her weapons, I hurry back to the White Tower. Once there, I make strawberry crepes for an afternoon snack and then move to my bedroom to consider the clothes in my over-stuffed wardrobe.

Tonight, I need a special outfit. Something charming to wear on the dais beside Temnen but practical enough for chasing Riven into the cobwebbed bowels of the castle. I hate to think about what I might find him doing down there, but I’m praying it’s nothing violent.

Either way, I think a dress with a floor-scraping train is out of the question.