Ick! No wonder her citizens hated her the way they did.
Trying not to think about it, Bink made it to the postern gate and then allowed them to leave first. He took one last look about to make sure no one saw them, then he ducked through.
Once they were in the meadow, he led them toward the king’s hunting lodge.
It’d been one of Keryna’s favorite places to meet with Bink when they’d first teamed up.
One day, imp, this will all be mine!
He’d never understood her mind set over that. It was a nice lodge and all, but nowhere near as nice as the palace. And while the lodge had servants whenever the king was in residence, it’d been isolated and lonely when he wasn’t there.
Not Bink’s cup of tea, at all. Having been a servant to the fey folk in Sagaria as a boy, he’d hated every minute of it.
But he found having others wait on him far more befitting the imp he wanted to be.
He curled his lip as old memories haunted him. Uppity fey bitches. They thought themselves so superior. They were just as backbiting and petty as anyone he’d ever known. He had no use for them. Other than to rob them and hone his skills at turning friends into enemies.
A little lie here, a twist on the truth there...
Mortal enemies for life.
He liked it.
“I wish we had a horse,” Fort complained.
Bink scoffed. “There’s a palace full of centaurs. I’m sure one of them would love to give you ride right back to your cell.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to return. Just saying I wish we had a horse. I have been tortured for the last few days, you know? It hurts to walk.”
“And what do you think I’ve been doing? Washing my spindles?” It’d been an absolute horror waiting to see if the imbecile would break and tell them who he was and where he was hiding.
Or worse, tell them that he had the horn they were all looking for. The stress alone had damn near killed him.
“Can’t you use the wand and make us a horse?” Dreama asked.
“Why are you whining? You’ve got wings.”
“Small wings,” she groused. “It’s tiring. Why do you think we like to catch rides on the backs of birds?”
Personally? He’d assumed they were lazy.
“Well, the wand can’t make a horse.” At least, he didn’t think so.
To be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure what all a golden horncoulddo. He only had a rudimentary understanding of that level of magick. What little he knew was what he’d picked up from the sidhe court where they both revered and reviled unicorn powers. It was there he’d hatched his greatest scheme.
Collect horns and sell those wands in Sagaria to the fey and wizards who lived there. They were far enough away from Licordia, that word had never reached the unicorns that he was poaching their precious body parts.
Thankfully, the fey knew that if they were caught with a wand, they’d be punished just as severely for purchasing it as he was for the illegal collecting. Because it wasn’t like they didn’t know the wand came from a unicorn that had been killed to collect it. Therefore, he’d never been afraid of betrayal on that front.
Granted it was a dangerous business, but one that had made him quite wealthy.
In the past, he’d kept mostly to green or purple horns. A few red ones, but those were hard to take as the bearers were fierce fighters and normally looking for someone to brawl with. White ones could fetch a good price, but not nearly as much as yellow or orange.
Then he’d seen the princess. The moment he’d laid eyes on her golden horn, he’d known it would be worth the price of a kingdom.
And that was before he realized it could be used to kill her half-brother, the king. If he possessed both a black and gold horn...
He’d be invincible. No one would ever be able to defeat him. He’d own the world and be the High King.
