Page 18 of The Pastel Prince

I stared at him in awe, my respect for him growing more every day. “You have seen so much, done so many daring things, battled with kings and wardens. Why did you recluse yourself at the temple when you are so vibrant and powerful yet?” His gaze slipped from the night sky to mine. “Apologies. That was invasive again.”

“Please, ask what you will of me without fear of retribution.”

“The village elder druid always chided me for speaking out of turn and being far too curious and reckless,” I said, my ears growing warm. “Please, do not reply to that crass question. Why you chose to retire to the temple to tend to it and the gem it holds is an honorable and devout calling for an archdruid.”

He sat there for the longest time, his sight holding mine, the flutter of moths attracted by the fire filling the cooling air.

“I retired when my wife died,” he lifelessly said, his gaze resting on my face. “I was unable to face the world after her passing, and my son was…my son was venturing down a path that I felt was unsettling, so I asked for the temple guardianship when it became available and took my son there with the hopes of guiding him on a holier path but he rebelled even more strongly with the solitude of that life. We fought daily, the battles growing harsher as he pushed from the druidic ways into less favorable magicks.”

I wanted to ask what kind of magicks. Dark magicks? Evil spells? Necromantic? I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from asking.

“I’m sorry you fought with your son,” I weakly offered as I had no idea what else to say.

“As am I, Kenton. He left the temple one day, cursing me, the druids, and the goddess.”

I gasped in shock. Insulting Danubia was unheard of among our people. “What became of him?”

“I do not know. That was many years ago. I have heard whisperings…”

He seemed to drift off then. I studied his profile. A son. A wife. Both gone. My heart wept for him. Lost as to what to say to offer him succor, I tentatively laid my hand over his, keeping my left arm wound tightly around my shins. His eyes found mine. I could feel my heart beating in my chest just as the caged birds back at Castle Willowspirit would. He rolled his hand over, slid his long fingers through mine, and continued to regard me.

“Your skin is as soft as lily petals,” he softly said, his thumb moving ever-so-gently over my wrist. “If I had known I would be traveling with a man so alluring, I would have taken time to trim my hair and freshen my wardrobe.”

“You are fine just as you are,” I replied, my words shaky as I floundered in his blue eyes.

“Ah, Kenton, you are a joyous, inquisitive, beautiful male that I fear has found a way into the jagged cracks of sadness that encase my heart.” He sat up, lifted my hand to his lips, and kissed each knuckle as he held my sight. “I think it wise that I return to my bedroll before I push my suit and end up kissing those plush lips of yours.”

“I would not object,” I whispered, hand shaking, pulse thundering. I would welcome him to my thin bedroll wantonly despite having no knowledge of what to do with him once he lay down with me. Surely it could not be too hard to work out the logistics…

“Yes, I know.” He turned my arm over, placed his lips on my palm, and then rose, letting my fingers fall softly to my bedroll. “And it would be glorious indeed, but I cannot acton my attraction to you when you’ve lost family. It would be unscrupulous of me to do so but know that I shall dream of sharing a pillow with you.”

I blinked dully as he made his way around the fire to curl up under his blanket, his wide shoulders turned from me. My body vibrated with desire, which conflicted terribly with the sadness and worry in my breast. How could one soul contain so many vast emotions?

Sleep was not going to come easily, I feared…

“Hey, hey, can we talk?”

My head snapped up to see Tezen flitting about in front of me, her wings beating furiously. I rubbed at my eyes, the mare under me trotting along at a steady pace. We’d been riding them harder the past two days, nothing that would exhaust them, but at a clip that would cover more ground. Reaching my home was a crushing need that weighed more greatly on me with each mile covered.

“Yes, of course,” I replied, coming awake thankfully before I fell off my horse. I’d been correct a few nights ago. Sleep was fleeting now. I warred with myself steadily, guilt gnawing at me like a fiend. What kind of person found themselves yearning for a man when their village, hell flames, the whole of their people, was in dire peril?

“Okay, so for the past two nights I’ve been sacking out with the horses.” The pixie took a seat on my shoulder using my braids as the dwarves used climbing ropes, tying one around her waist, then clinging to it. “Not that I mind because they’re peaceful beasts other than their rancid gassy explosions. Which, after that meal of beans on toast a few nights back, put them in contest with your love interest back there.”

“He is not a love interest,” I hurried to clarify. She hooted so loudly Beirach shouted from behind, asking us if all was well. Since we were in my homelands now, I was the lead. I knew these wooded acres as if they were the lines on my palms or the freckles on my shoulder.

“Right, and that’s the issue, isn’t it?” She shimmied up a braid to speak into my ear. “What the good bloody hellfire are you two waiting for? It’s not that complicated. He puts his sprocket into your socket and pumps. I even strained a gut shoving that flicking tin of grease he rubs into his boots closer to your bedroll and nothing.Nothing!Do you two need me to take your danglers in hand and tie them together?”

“By the goddess,” I hissed, spinning in the saddle as a light rain began to fall. The leaves cupped upward on the praying elms, catching the drops, then allowing the water to dribble down to the earth. The cool shade combined with the fresh rainfall felt good on my overheated skin. “Would you stop saying such things?!”

“Why? I mean, I do not fathom why you two aren’t rutting like mountain goats every night.”

“It is not the time or place to be rutting like goats. Every elf in this forest is in danger, every druid who calls this woodland home has a mark on them, and you want me to…to…to…”

“Yeah, I want you two to to-to.” She grabbed hold of another braid and yanked. So hard it made my eyes water. “Sometimes a little slap-and-giggle is the best thing for taking your mind from your worries. Life’s really short, you know?”

I huffed as I tried to disengage her tiny hands from my hair. It was akin to trying to remove a flea from a wooly wolfhound. Nin cawed from overhead, his form appearing and disappearing as the leaves dumped their raindrops downward. Seeing him above us spiked my worry. He’d been sent off with a missive about my aunt’s village a day ago. That he was back so swiftlymeant that Umeris, and perhaps his council, had thought our news warranted a speedy reply and the raven had been sent back out immediately. I prayed that they did not feel an armed strike force would be needed or even contemplated. The vills of Melowynn did not tolerate plagues brought into their borders by “others” as was evidenced by how many humans had been eradicated during the sleeping sickness outbreak several eons ago. Hopefully, given that Verboten was not under the direct rule of the king but governed by our own people, something as rash as riding into the woods with purge clerics would be illegal, or at the very least, heavily litigated and argued in the courts. It was on us three to do what we could to avoid such an outcome at all costs.

Atriel skidded to a halt so suddenly that I had to scramble to keep my seat. Her ears swiveling toward the burial copse ahead and to the left. I patted her tense neck, feeling that she was anxious about something. Many druids believed animals could sense the dead and were frightened of them. Perhaps it was the smell of decay or the scent of the predators that visited the ancient redwoods trying to reach the bodies of those placed in the tree branches.

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