Page 105 of Somber Prince

Dread hollowed my chest as I whipped around to face a hunched-over figure shrouded in a dark-gray cloak. The royal hag stood inside the dining room, holding on to the frame of the door-window while keeping to the shadows of the wall.

“It’s a dangerous place outside these walls,” she chuckled, “especially for a sweet little morsel like you.”

I considered lying to her about my plans, but she peered at me with a knowing look in her pale-lavender eyes.

Keeping close to the banister, I wondered if I could just make a dash for it. Would she try to chase me, the frail old woman that she was? Surely, I would outrun her. But she could alert the guards. That would put a stop to our entire escape.

“What do you want?” I asked, not moving from my spot.

“I want to give you these.” From the flowing folds of her wide cloak, she produced a pair of tall boots, similar to those that shadow fae wore in the desert. “Those tender thighs of yours will need protection out there. I’m sure they suffered enough already during Prince Rha’s recent mating fever.”

She chuckled again. I found the sound repulsive, wishing I could toss the boots she held out to me back at her. The boots, however, seemed far more practical for traipsing a desert than the short ones that I had on.

But why would she care about me or my thighs? This felt like a trap.

“Do you want me gone from Teneris?”

“Not just from Teneris, Sweet One. I want all of you to get out of Alveari Kingdom and never come here again.”

Good. If she wanted me gone, she wouldn’t stop me. But I couldn’t help feeling a pinch of offense at her derisive tone.

“Why?” I asked. “What did we do for you to hate us?”

She blew out her breath and dropped the hand holding the boots. As much as I’d like to take them, I wasn’t coming any closer.

“It’s not what you do,” she said. “It’s what you are. Our First Priestess helped our shadows turn into people. Our ancestors built her a temple, and she filled it with joy, pure and precious. Joy Guardians pledged to keep it. They were supposed to preserve its purity. Instead, they’ve allowed it to be polluted. First, with the joy of other fae from the Above. And now, with that of humans.”

She wrinkled her nose, looking at me with resentment like I’d personally spat into her precious, ancient joy.

“Fine.” I stretched my hand out to her. “Give me the boots, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

She handed them to me. The scorpion tattoo on her wrist came into view again, and she didn’t try to hide it from me this time.

“What does your tattoo mean?” I asked, kicking off the boots I was wearing and putting on the new ones. Soft and smooth like butter, their leather slid easily over my legs. They reached all the way up past mid-thigh, like stockings that would protect me from thistles in the grass and the sand in the desert.

She turned her wrist to better display the tattoo.

“This is the sign of the Watchers.”

“Who are the Watchers?”

“The few of the Joy Guardians who realize their duty is not only to guard our joy, but to protect it from the likes of you. They will take you through the portal today.”

“Are you one of them?”

She scoffed at my ignorance. “I’m a hag, not a Watcher or a Guardian. I serve Prince Rha and can’t plot behind his back. I gave you the boots because it’s my duty to protect what’s his.”

“To protect, but not to keep, right?”

“Exactly,” she smirked.

“So, you won’t wake the prince when I leave, then?”

“It’d be rude to wake him up, wouldn’t it? The poor thing is exhausted after rolling in the sheets with you for days. You don’t look too bad, though.” She slid her gaze down my body. “Fit and healthy after helping to break his mating fever. And they say humans are weak.”

I shifted my weight to another foot, feeling uncomfortable under her assessing stare.

“Well, thanks for the boots, now if you’ll excuse me?—”

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