“This is Nightmare,” Sitri said, interrupting my thoughts. “She is my personal steed. We shall travel with her today.”
As he introduced his horse, he brought her to a halt in front of me. I took a step back to give her space. She looked tame, as did the two horses still stabled behind her, but I didn’t want to risk startling the mare.
“Are you sure she can carry us both?” I asked, eyeing Nightmare cautiously.
Sitri chuckled. I threw another glare his way. He reached for my hand and seized it before I realized his intent, making me freeze at his touch. The Prince brought my fingers to the horse’s velvety muzzle, moving me despite my rigidity.I winced, expecting retaliation that never came. Nightmare stood still as a statue. Sitri pulled his own hand back, and my nerves settled as I regained control of my body. Her skin was soft under my near-chafed fingertips, and I couldn’t help but stroke her nose.
“Of course she can carry us. Nightmare could pull a cart, weararmor, and carry us both. All that, with plenty of strength to spare, so long as we traveled slowly.”
Sitri stepped up to his steed and prepared to mount. My heartbeat quickened as he knotted his fist into her flaming hair, but his face remained perfectly still. He vaulted onto her with unmatched agility. Once he had settled, Sitri sat against the back of the narrow saddle, leaving little room for me in front. He offered me his hand. It bore no burns, despite his contact with Nightmare’s burning mane.
“Your turn, Lillia. Take my hand, use this stirrup to step up, and then swing your leg over. If you fall, I will catch you.”
I grimaced at the offer. Sitri had been unusually pleasant today, but the reality of sitting with my body against his made my stomach churn. Being so close to the Prince of Lust and Lies was a risky affair, and I’d already had more of his hands on my skin than I liked. He’d chosen the right bait to tempt me, for even those fears failed to outweigh my need for understanding and a taste of freedom.
With a sigh, I took his hand.
I followed Sitri’s lead, though my ascent was not as graceful. I landed on top of the horse, but my momentum threatened to drag me back off. A squeak of surprise left my lips. Before I fell, Sitri’s arm wrapped around my waist.
The Prince tugged me closer than was necessary. His armored chest pressed against me from behind, and my pelvis settled tight against his. Once he was sure I’d caught my balance, Sitri loosened his hold, but he didn’t release me. The rigid warmth of his body against mine was unsettling and far too familiar. I knew how we must have looked—a Prince with a maiden atop his steed. The perverse distortion of my reality made me nauseous.
“I told you I would catch you.” I shuddered as his hot breath stirred against my ear, realizing my mistake too late.
“You can let me go. I’ve got my balance now.”
“I would rather hold you. We wouldn’t want you falling, would we, darling?” he asked, smile singing in his voice. “Hold on tight. This may get a little bumpy.”
Sitri’s legs flexed around his mount, and I braced one hand against Nightmare’s neck as she set off in a trot. She carried us down the decorative road and towards the gleaming demon city ahead. The clacking of hoofbeats filled the air, announcing our arrival as stone buildings sprang up.
Now that we were moving, maintaining my balance proved difficult. Each time I wavered, Sitri tightened his arm around my waist, only relaxing once I steadied. The rhythmic movements of the horse’s body pressed him against me with each step she took. I was uncomfortably aware of his presence, of my backside nestled between his legs. I was just as aware that dozens of demons watched us as we rode past. Some bowed or gave respectful nods, though most simply glared at me, eyes burning and jaws tight.
As we rode through Lantyca, I felt like an oddity on display. When we broke from the city streets, starting down a road that led from the western side of the city and into the darkness of Hell, my humiliation shifted to anxiety. My lantern and the demon steed’s fiery hair cast some light. In the Prince’s company, it wasn’t enough.
The mare slowed from a trot to a walk, allowing me to study my new surroundings. Small, shadowy shapes congregated on the ground, bunched up in clusters. Mushrooms, with long stalks and bulbous heads. Some of them littered the area in patches of inch-high mycelium. Others rose up several feet, forming fungal bushes. There were even occasional mushrooms that towered far above like trees, complete with branching trunks and leaf-like caps. They came in every color and pattern imaginable, from polka-dots to zig-zags, dull brown to vibrant blue. Their spores danced in the air, resembling fairies, and catching like glitter in the firelight.
The place was mesmerizing. Wholly unlike anything I’d seen before.
“It’s beautiful.”
I hadn’t realized I had said the words aloud until the Prince chuckled, his chest rumbling against my back.
“Even Hell can be beautiful, so long as you know where to look.”
We came to a stop. Sitri’s arm left my side, then he dismounted. His boots hit the fungus-covered floor with a wet thud.I sighed with relief. For a short while, he walked beside me in silence, the reins of his horse in hand.
This far out from the city, soft, muffled sounds filled the space between hoofbeats. My anxiety swelled as I placed them. Gunshots, angry cries, echoing clashes… the same distant warfare I’d heard when I first woke in Hell. It was faint here, barely even audible, but still threatening.
As the realization hit me, Sitri broke away from my side.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” I called after him as he faded from the light. The only thing I feared more than having him at my back was the threat of abandonment in uncharted territory.
“Just appreciating the view,” he shouted back. “Two hundred years have certainly changed this place. It looks nicer blanketed in fungus than it did bathed in blood.”
Two hundred years.Though the gravity of that revelation wasn’t lost on me, another question formed on my tongue, pushing any mention of his age away.
“This used to be a battlefield?”
From the shadows came a rustling noise and the crunching of mycelium beneath boots. When Sitri finally returned to my side, he held a mushroom bigger than my palm. It almost resembled a flower, with a rose-pink head and a delicate veil that fell from its cap.
