"A hunt." Calliope screws her nose up. "I think I may abstain. There's been enough blood spilled of late." She heads toward the palace. "You'd be wise if you take my advice. I don't think any of us should be alone out there with... certain princesses."
I'm supposed to distract the prince today. Soraya wants a closer look at the palace. Besides, with so many guards suddenly at attention, the bright light of day is no place to make a move. Patience is a thief's best weapon, and there'll be plenty of time to make a move when the furor dies down. "I think I'll take my chances."
If Narcissa had anything to do with Altrea's death, then I want to know more.
We're led to the courtyard, where saddled horses await. Over a dozen vicious princesses fight for the most pleasing mount. I watch with faint amusement. Fae politics can be brutal, and I can't be bothered playing back.
I'm left with a fractious gray gelding named Ghost that tries to bite me when I take his reins. I snap my teeth at him. "Don't annoy me. It's barely a civilized hour."
"Not fond of morning?" Prince Keir murmurs to me, as he leads his stallion past.
Of course it's enormous. And black, with a long silky mane and feathered fetlocks. One would think he had something to prove.
"I had trouble sleeping," I mutter. "I'm surprised you look so cheerful this morning. Someone did summon a Banewolf to your castle, after all."
His smile doesn't slip. "And I will find them."
There's no time to ask more, because he's instantly surrounded by a swirl of lilac-scented silk.
"What are we hunting?" Princess Ismena calls, as she whirls her blood-red bay in tight circles. She's one of the few in leather breeches and a trim little leather corset that displays her narrow waist to best effect.
"And what is the prize if we're the first to bring it down?" cries another princess, one with flowing blue hair that looks like she's just stepped out of the waves.
Keir swings into the saddle, his leather breeches creaking over his thighs. It's a sight to behold, despite the fact I should not be even looking in that direction. "The woods to the north are wild and untamed. They're the haunt of one of the last unicorns in the land. It's an ancient, mighty beast, and it can only be brought down by wiles."
Or a noose made from the hair of a virgin.
"Capture the unicorn," he calls, "and you will win a private dinner with me tonight."
The squeals are deafening.
The loosely knotted bridle hanging at my saddle suddenly makes sense. Some brunette somewhere has lost a length of hair.
"If I capture it, can I have its horn?" asks the Princess of the Dawn court.
Keir's smile fades, and I can sense that Princess Dawn just fell highly out of favor. "Am I not prize enough? It would be a shame to destroy such a mighty creature for the mere sake of a horn. No. If brought down, he'll be released at the end of the day. He is one of the last, after all."
It makes me like him a little more.
No beast should be hunted for the sake of a body part that cannot be eaten or used for warmth. Some say to grind a unicorn's horn into their drink will increase their fertility, but its never been proven. And unicorns are rare creatures. There used to be more of them, but now all that's left is worthless scepters scattered through the fae courts.
"You should stay behind, Worm," Princess Ismena hisses as she drives her bay into the path of my gelding. "You'll never capture his attention. You're not worthy of him."
It's a good thing I wasn't planning on winning.
But despite that fact, I cannot help snapping back, "I think it falls to the prince's whim to decide who's worthy."
She bears her teeth at me. "Don't get in my way."
"Or what?" I refuse to let her cow me. "Usually these warnings come with a threat."
Princess Ismena's smile is merciless. "Oh, I'd hate to ruin the surprise. Why don't you try me?"
Maybe I should convince Soraya that Ismena needs a good dose of bitterroot.
It might improve her personality.
Capture the unicorn and win the company of the prince.
