Her unblinking gaze pierces me as if blinking will unleash the tears she’s desperately holding back. “They meant everything to me.”
The thought that I’ve changed the course of her life with a single stroke of the pen and don’t even remember it tenses something inside me, strains it like the string of a bow.
“Am I a monster to you, Talysse Nightglimmer?” I step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. Everyone who came to me seeking a monster was not disappointed. Her eyes—strange, mesmerizing—reflect defiance mingled with sorrow. It’s the sadness and that flash of vulnerability among her fierceness that makes me want to trail a finger along her face, to wipe away the single tear she couldn’t hold back.
“You wear the skin of one,” she says, voice steady.
A dark chuckle escapes me. “Then perhaps you should fear me more.”
Silence stretches between us, and her hand slides to the pocket, where the Flint spills its iridescent magic.
“I am a monster, bred and raised by monsters, and I would do anything, absolutely anything, to get what I want, Talysse.”
She retreats, the shadows of the dead trees right behind her. “I won’t let you have it.”
“And how do you intend to stop me?” I challenge, taking a predatory step forward.
Without warning, she spins on her heel, darting deeper into the garden’s withered embrace. For a moment, I watch her run, grinning. Bold little thief. Then I tie my hair up, wipe the blood from my brow, and give chase.
I could never resist a good hunt; it’s in my blood. This game is so invigorating. She’s fast, but shadows are my realm, and it’s so easy to track her when she’s carrying a magical relic that shines like a miniature black sun. Avoiding branches and golden cages with dead birds inside, we get to the depths of this sad place. One leap, and both of us crash into a bed of brittle leaves. She’s pinned under my weight. For a moment, I stiffen, thinking that she hit her head too hard. Then she starts struggling beneath me, fiery and unyielding. The thick layer of leaves has softened the blow.
“Go on,” she hisses, breaths ragged. “Kill me like you did them.”
I study her strange eyes, noting every speck and nuance. She thrashes her head, trying to avoid my proximity.
“I have done a lot of despicable things, yes,” my voice is low, menacing, a reminder of who’s she dealing with, “and I’ve sent many people to their deaths, but I have done it all for a reason.” For some cursed reason I need her to understand, to hear me, so I restrain her, pinning her wrists over her head with my right hand. “It pains me that it happened to your parents, Talysse,” my voice drops to a whisper, “it pains me even more that I don’t remember what their crime was, but the law is a law, and a governor is nothing but a servant to his people.”
She’s watching me now, heavy-lidded, her mouth half-open. Her heartbeat races, palpable against my chest. For a fleeting moment, vulnerability flickers in her eyes before she masks it with renewed defiance. And just when I think I’ve made her understand, she skillfully aims a kick at my crotch.
A deep, amused chuckle rumbles from my chest. Vicious little thief. Touching an Unseelie royalty without their permission is punishable by death. Harming one of us is punishable by a prolonged, extremely painful death, and Elders know my kind could be very creative when it comes to that. And this little human, struggling to breathe under my weight, smacked me with a violin and tried to kick me in my most sensitive parts. Oh, how I wish my knights and sparring partners had half of her courage.
“Go on, Prince, Governor, or whatever title you’re hiding behind to justify your murders. Kill me and take it, as I’m not giving the Flint to you willingly.” Arms pinned up, crushed by my weight, and she still tries another kick.
I lean closer, our faces mere inches apart. “Death is too final. Where’s the fun in that?”
“Monsters like you don’t understand fun,” she spits.
I smirk. “Care to enlighten me?”
Well, that came out wrong, considering the situation. Probably Talysse feels the same way because her eyes, confused, drop to my mouth and linger there. Then, to my surprise, she blushes and whips her head to the side, dead leaves sticking to her hair.
“I am not going to kill you, Talysse. Where’s the glory in that? Robbing a human girl in a dungeon with no one to see?” I suddenly release her and push myself up, my gaze lingering on her. She gasps when I grab her hand, pulling her to her feet. My touch is rough and commanding, but I wince at the thought that I could’ve pulled too hard and dislocated her shoulder. “Power is about flaunting it, demonstrating it. You can’t do that without an audience. Come, let’s find another way out.”
Talysse rakes her fingers through her hair, which has escaped the braid, and brushes away leaves and dirt. Her scent—of hyacinth and sun-drenched gardens—teases me, and my nostrils flare, inhaling deeply the promise of happiness that was never meant for someone like me. That intoxicating fragrance is a cruel reminder that, in her eyes, I’m the monster who sent her parents to the gallows.
“Where did you come from?” she asks coolly, straightening her doublet. I cock a brow. Just moments ago, her life was in my hands, her body crushed beneath mine—heat stirs inside me at the thought, and I force myself to focus. Now she stands before me, her chin up, composed like a queen. This woman can take life’s punches so gracefully and transform them into possibilities. So resourceful. Were she a part of my court, she’d make it far.
“I fell through the floor. Or through the ceiling, depending on the perspective. That Elders-cursed mercenary dropped a wall on me. No way we can climb back from there,” I reply, my voice low and edged with another memory—that of the male scent that clung to her. The thought of some mysterious man touching her nearly makes me summon my Shadowblade. “And you?”
“That mercenary should not be a problem anymore. But the way I came in is closed too,” she answers simply, scanning the quiet garden around us. I keep my expression neutral, though my curiosity burns. “Did he follow you here?”
“A…part of him did. Look, there must be a ventilation system bringing in fresh air or water pipes—”
“Let’s look around.” To my relief, she nods.
We walk in silence, the crunching leaves and our breaths the only sounds in this garden of sadness.
“What kind of magic made all this possible?” I marvel, my fingers brushing the marble pools of the fountains, still full of dark water and dead leaves. “This water must come from somewhere.”
