Mendax
“Be sure she gets whatever she wants to eat. I don’t know the last time she’s eaten,” I told the maid as I walked into the large kitchen.
“Yes, of course, Your Highness.” The petite Fae nodded.
What was I thinking?
I quickly raised my hand to reverse the generous command but hesitated, and the lady’s maid left.
What was I doing? Feeding her? I should starve her. Get her away from me all the quicker. Still, I think it’s been a while since she’s had a nice meal—it will give her more stamina, which will provide more entertainment.
The moment the trial began yesterday, I felt nothing but pure relief, believing this roach would be dead instantly.
It had been a sure thing.
No one, not even the fastest Fae, outran the nocturneye with their tracking abilities, let alone a human with no skills, no strength, no magic, and no help.
“Food, sir?” asked the thickly mustached chef from behind the kitchen fire, startling me from my thoughts.
“No,” I snapped as I grabbed the nearest bottle of Faerie wine and poured it into a large glass.
I had told myself yesterday not to worry about my enticement with her. What was the point of worrying? She would be dead, and my people would be thrilled with me for the savage entertainment I provided them with. Only the latter proved to be true in the end.
I knew what she was.
I knew how trained she must be to possess such toned thighs. Even covered in filth, her silhouette was mesmerizing. No one but a trained assassin could possess such a figure. It was obvious she was chosen to be a trained killer because she was the most beautiful human created. Perfect for distracting and disarming.
I knew how successful she surely was in her position as a mercenary.
Never had I witnessed such a fast-working and clever mind as hers. They had most definitely trained her in the art of persuasion and seduction. Never had I been so captivated and enchanted in all my centuries. My suspicions were only further solidified when I watched her quickly alter her dress to avoid the tracking of the nocturneye. I watched her with pure awe when she knew exactly where to land the killing blow beneath the nocturneye’s wings.
She wished me to believe her a simple, insignificant human, but anyone that looked at her could see she was so much more than that.
When I witnessed my little pet lamb execute the killing blow to not one but two aged nocturneye, my intrigue evolved into something much more dangerous. It only made me need her dead faster.
A chill overcame my body as I ran my fingers over the small tooth that hung from my neck. The molar was hers. She had spit it at me in all her fiery magnificence in the blood room. I had pocketed it without thinking.
Then later, arguably still not thinking, I had it made into a souvenir to wear always. A memento from this enchantress to remember long after she was dead.
She could not live, but already I feared I would not draw breath without a part of her near.
A shiver racked my spine, threatening to unfurl my wings.
Hours I had paced the halls, attempting to understand how this maggot had wriggled into my mind with similar fervor as if she had impelled my mind. The foreign feelings she sent into my mind were severe and intolerable.
Before I had entered my bedchamber after the trial, I had wholly decided that she would be moved back to the dungeon. To the stone walls where her scent of lavender and honey could no longer trail along and blur my senses. It was admitting weakness to send her away, but I was without choice. Her pure existence had somehow infused my mind in a way I couldn’t tolerate.
But when I had opened the door and saw her lying on the floor of my bedroom under the duress of the other women, all I could think about was slitting their tiny throats for carelessly handling her.
I would be the only one here to touch her.
Even then, I had still planned to send her silky hair and soft flesh back to the dungeon. I would carry her myself if I had to and enjoy the last checked touch before she would be gone forever.
But then . . . then she had grabbed the candlestick ready to bludgeon me, and I saw a bloodthirsty fire burn like an unyielded torch behind her eyes—for me. No longer masking to be the lamb I knew she pretended to be. She revealed a murderous serpent every bit as dark as myself.
The thought of being the one—the only one—to control and feed that fire sent an absolute inferno through my mind, taking with it every sane thought I had held.
Then when her body had softened in response to me—when her muscles slackened, and the flame in her eyes settled at the touch of my hands—I was lost to her. It was as if a part I had never before utilized suddenly began to function. The thought of her soft, yet dangerous, body sleeping on the hard floor bit into my soul like a knife, and the next thing I knew, I was giving her a blanket—my blanket—to sleep on!
I was so distraught I had spent the rest of the night pacing the library, trying desperately not to think of the way her small hand imprinted upon my arm when she touched me. The way her fingertips felt as though they were lined with satin. If I weren’t careful, I would do something very, very stupid.
Like let her live.
The thought of her being gone already pestered me more than I could consciously admit.
I would not let her turn my brain into wreckage.
“You look like shit.”
“As do you, Mother,” I retorted before turning around and quickly tucking away the tooth under the edge of my tunic.
The queen grabbed my arm and guided me to her breakfast table by the expansive window that overlooked the gardens and the first edging of town.
I shook away her sterile hand immediately but continued to join her.
“The entire court, all of the Unseelie for that matter, are in an absolute uproar over the trial. Can you believe that dim-witted human did all that?” She gathered her large red dress to sit and immediately began to stab her fruit vigorously. She liked stabbing things.
“She is not dim-witted—” I growled before I caught myself.
My mother froze as if she had suddenly turned to ice, dropped the strawberry from her mouth, and stared slack-jawed.
“The human is most certainly a very skilled assassin. The only reason she has escaped death this many times is that everyone continues to underestimate her.” I tried to recover.
A smile crept onto my mother’s thin lips. “It is true, then. You banished the maids tending her wounds so you could do it yourself? I refused to believe the story when I heard it knowing it to be false. In all my yearning, not once have you taken to anyone. Your father and I quit forcing the issue after you killed all those princesses. Shame we never procured those alliances. Quite the mess you caused our line back then.” Her eyes danced in sharp fascination. “Tell me you didn’t touch the human, Mendax. I don’t think my mortality could take it. First, you refuse to take your rightful throne merely because you won’t allow me to bond you with another—”
“That’s not—” I tried to cut off her rambling, but she was much more skilled in that art form than I.
“To which I understood! The females here are severely lacking. But to then simply hurl your desires at a human? That is too much!” She laughed, but her cold eyes held a depth of seriousness.
“As you know, I will never take the throne and be king because I will never share my powers with another and, therefore, never bond to another, which furthermore excludes me from the ability to ascend the throne, dear Mother. I will admit, though, for the first time in my life, I am oddly fascinated.” I rubbed my arm, still feeling where she had touched it. “Still, she will be dead and out of my system as soon as possible.”
She stared at me, a wicked look on her face. She no longer did the work of a ruler, but she still enjoyed batting her prey around a bit.
“I could bond you to the human.” She leaned in, inspecting my expression for cracks. “It’s almost too perfect—I don’t know why either of us hadn’t thought of it.” She stood abruptly, brimming with excitement as if she would burst if she didn’t go to the window. “Your powers don’t divide until the marriage ceremony, but the bonding is what has barred you from becoming king.” Her blue eyes looked ready to pop from her face—the whites gleamed brightly against the dark walls. “Bond with the human and kill her before the marriage ceremony. It’s perfect. It’s never occurred to me before because we were dealing with immortal Fae, not weak human mortals.” She looked to me, hope manically pulled at her face.
“You’re wasting your haggard breath, Mother. I will bond with no one, especially not the human that, may I remind you, was sent to kill me.”
I rolled my eyes at her and shifted my body in the opposite direction dramatically. How could she even suggest this?
“The expelled Fae will eventually come for the throne. You and I both know a lightmire will be the only one strong enough to take it from you.” Her voice darkened. “If you think I will stand by and let a fallen Seelie take my kingdom before I would bond you to a human . . . you are a bigger fool than I thought.”
“They wouldn’t challenge a Smoke Slayer. Even the expelled aren’t so stupid.” I grunted, frustrated to be having this talk again.
“Don’t be so sure.”
I instantly craved blood at the mention of the expelled. No one wanted them. The fallen Seelie Fae had been banned from their realm and somehow formed a rebellion here. They were rumored to be incredibly powerful and in pursuit of taking over my court.
I rose to my feet, pushing the chair back with a loud screech. “Well, Mother, this was lovely as usual, but I have someone I need to execute.” My words dripped with sarcasm, and I began to walk away.
“At least do me the favor of letting her live long enough to compete in the second trial. The Seelie princes are rumored to attend, and I think it wise for them to see how you kill people that are sent to slay you,” she said, raising her brow as she remained facing the window. Her command was unconcealed.
“Fine,” I bit out as I walked away.
Someone else’s orders upon my tongue tasted bitter and unwelcome.
I held out my hands and shadowed back to my room, eager to see my wolf in sheep’s clothing one last time.
