“She told me.” He paused, head tilting slightly. “A secret, she called it. As if the day of her birth was something to hide.” Those luminous eyes blinked. “Curious creatures, humans. They ache so quietly.”
My chest tightened. “What does she want, Chester?”
The grin softened—just barely. “I suspect, Mad King, she’s forgotten she’s allowed to want anything at all.”
I fought through the angry pain in my side, willing myself to stay upright. Beads of sweat rolled down my temples. “We’re in a cavern, Chester. What the hell am I going to give her?”
“Belonging.” He stretched the word out, savoring it. “Such a small thing. Such a hard thing. What makes one belong, I wonder?”
“I don’t have anything—” I stopped. My hand drifted to my chest. To the ink over my heart.
Chester’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming in the dark. “Ah. There it is. The Mad King remembers he has a heart after all.”
“She’s not one of us.” I kept my voice flat. The less they knew about what I felt for her the better. Feelings were weaknesses. And weaknesses got people killed.
“No? How curious.” He leaned back, arms folding loosely as he studied me. “Tell me, Darius—how many times must a little witch save a king’s life before she belongs to him? Once? Twice?” His head tilted askew, as always. “Three times she’s dragged you back from the brink, and still she washes your blood from her hands like you’re no one to her.”
My jaw tightened. Chester always spoke in riddles, but in this case, he was hitting the mark. She had saved my life, risked her life for me without asking for anything in return. And I had no idea what to do with that.
“The men won’t accept it.”
“Won’t they? Or is it the Mad King who won’t accept it?” His form flickered, fading at the edges. “We’re all mad here, Darius. The only question is what your madness will cost you.”
Chester wasn’t looking at me but past me. Something flickered in his golden eyes—amusement maybe, or something warmer—and I glanced over my shoulder.
Alice approached us. Her hair was damp, cascading down her shoulders in soft waves, and she had on a different tunic—brown—and green leggings. Simple. Plain. And yet I couldn’t look away.
Three times she’s saved your life.
Chester’s words echoed in my skull. I thought of her hands on my chest, washing away blood. The way she’d said never been accepted like it was just the way things were. The way she’d toldChester that today was her birthday like it was a secret too fragile to speak aloud.
And here she was, checking on me. Again. As if I mattered.
Something twisted behind my ribs. Something I didn’t want to name.
“How are you feeling?” Her voice was gentle. Careful. Like I might break.
I swallowed hard, shoving the feeling down where it couldn’t reach me.
“Why did you change your clothes? Did you bathe?”
The deflection came out sharper than I intended. Easier to ask questions than answer them. Easier to focus on her than the ache building in my chest every time she looked at me like that.
“I’m sorry. After scrubbing and washing laundry I needed to change. I didn’t mean to irritate you. If you’ll excuse me…”
Damn it. That came out wrong. Everything I said to her came out wrong. “Wait…”
Chester faded away, allowing me to stew in my own stupidity.
“What?” She put her hands on her hips.
Defensive. Guarded. I'd done that—made her feel like she had to protect herself from me. “Chester tells me it’s your birthday.”
She hung her head. “Yes. I’m twenty-one today.” She looked up, and I thought her eyes glistened. “Old enough to drink.”
The fight drained out of her so fast it startled me. One moment defiant, the next... broken.
My chest ached. Twenty-one. Alone in a cavern full of Unseelie and one demon who’d treated her like a prisoner. And still she tried to make a joke of it.
