I raised my chin and laughed at his dramatics, lifting my caster-spelled ring right in front of his face. “Do not pretend that we’ve been completely removed from civilization. We go out almost every night to town and have fun when the urge takes us.”
Caspian’s lips twitched. He peered down at his own caster-spelled ring, the rings explicitly made to hide the call that takes all of Fae’s created children by carnal storm. It only happens when the person might be a potential soul match, and the rings hide and protect the pheromones that lash out at everyone, except the two—sometimes three or four—specifically involved. And when the urge strikes, those affected never escape.
Caspian chuckled, and muttered, “Well, I can’t argue with that. I thought for sure that pink-haired beauty last night would have been my soul mate.”
I hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward the summer home behind us and proceeded to finish my cup of wine. “Did you know she ate all of my strawberries? She’s still in there stuffing her damned face with our treats!”
“Hopefully, she’ll get the hint and leave soon if we stay out here long enough. And don’t give me that look. That one fellow you brought home a few months ago, freakishly sang while you two screwed. I had to listen to “Oh, How Pretty Your Tits Are” to the beat of your headboard banging against our adjoining wall.” He shook his head in horror. “Andothersongs. That night of nightmares will forever be embedded in my brain.”
“I did knock him over the head and pull his body outside once the urge wore off. I didn’t even wait to put his clothes back on him,” I pointed out. I wiggled my cup at my servant, but, damn, did I feel bad. “I’m sorry we kept you up. You and I should have picked a different house where the bedrooms weren’t so close.”
“Like King Traevon would have allowed that to happen.” Caspian sighed and rested his head back on his blanket, closing his eyes. “With any luck, he’ll be forgiving soon. I really need to kill someone again.”
“So says the assassin,” I grumbled, drinking half of my new cup of wine in one large gulp. “I have no idea if he’ll even let me start any royal duties. The last night we saw each other wasn’t wonderful. I hope he knows that I’ve grown up by now.”
“You are still young,” Caspian mumbled, peeking at me with his one visible eye. “But you have changed. He will see that.”
“I hope so.” I dug my toes lower into the hot sand. “Like you, I am sick of this place.”
“As I said before, to Fairy and back for Sugar Cove!”
* * *
“IloveSugar Cove,” Caspian slurred later that night. He draped his right arm over my shoulders and waved his tankard of ale at the crowd, sloshing the dark brown liquid all over our small, circular table. His cup was now empty. “I love all of you backward bitches!”
The crowd inside the tavernroaredtheir love back.
My ringing laughter tickled the air, then I shouted to the barkeep, “We need another round!”
King Traevon’s coffers had been spent aplenty at this particular tavern over the past twelve years. No apologies would ever be given from me. Or Caspian. If the king wanted to call this a ‘vacation,’ then we treated it as such. With much,muchale most nights.
We kindly splurged for our guards, too.
We handed them coin for the night, and they pretended not to notice when we snuck out the back of the summer house for our nights of jolly fun. It did help that my people had not a damn clue who I really was, or who Caspian was. They believed we were simply acquaintances of the king’s soul mate, Minnie, and we were renting the royal summer abode until King Traevon deigned to visit again. The perks of being a reclusive princess and the king’s secret assassin, no one was the wiser—as long as they never snuck into the stables and saw my Fae-gifted pegasus, seeing as only rulers and their heirs had them.
One poor fellow had done just that.
I still wasn’t sure what happened to him.
My guards quietly handled the issue, thank the Fae above and below. Even though I had taken care of ‘business’ once with Father, I was in no rush to smell molten flesh again. There were nights when I swore the stench was still stuck in my nostrils, even if Caspian had sniffed at my nose and told me he only smelled pampered bullshit.
I smelled the air carefully. There was no hint of burned anything tonight if you didn’t count the wooden logs aflame inside the large rock fireplace in the corner that heated the tavern. That smelled like chestnuts, pleasant and unassuming.
Jenavene set our new tankards down on the table in front of us, her ample bosom spilling out of her low top directly in front of my eyes. Flirting, always flirting with me, even though she knew I was only interested in men. She never gave up. I had to give her that.
She winked. “Is there anything else you need?”
I hiccupped through my drunken chuckle. “I think we’re good. Thank you, Jenavene.”
“Actually, I would like some stew…” Caspian’s voice trailed off, an irritated scowl promptly gracing his pretty features.
Jenavene was already walking away, her hips swaying.
I snorted and grabbed my new drink. “There, my friend. I’d like to say she doesn’t do that on purpose, but I’m pretty sure she does.”
“It is so annoying. She doesn’t treat any of the other men like that here.” His belch was long and loud. “I don’t understand.”
I bumped the side of my head against his. His arm still slung over my shoulders; our posture sloppy drunk on our wooden chairs. “It’s very simple, Caspian. I just don’t think she likes you.”
