Page 16 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

“They can see me just fine from where I was,” Skylar argued, all too aware of the curious glances thrown their way. “I’m not part of the royal family.”

“I want them to see you here. Next to me.” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous edge creeping in. The rumble of his words seemed to vibrate through her, settling low in her belly. “Where you belong.”

Skylar’s breath caught. She swallowed hard, suddenly very conscious of how she must look next to the resplendent Crown Prince. Without thinking, she reached up to adjust her coat, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” she replied with a slight nod, guiding Noire to fall in step beside Arye’s mount. As their horses drew close, she added under her breath, “But if your father asks, this was your idea.”

Arye’s lips curled into a smirk, “Worried about getting in trouble, Sky? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Skylar rolled her eyes, fighting back a grin. “Your protection is always appreciated, Your Highness,” she said, a hint of playful sarcasm in her tone.

As they progressed deeper into the city, Skylar’s gaze drifted over the crowd behind her. She watched as burly warriorsmelted into the arms of wives and children, their faces streaked with tears of joy. The lump in her throat grew, making it difficult to swallow.

But amid the joy, she couldn’t miss the heartbreak. The sad faces. The sobs. Some had already heard of their sons’ deaths; others searched desperately for loved ones they’d never find. It was only a matter of time before the mood shifted, before the whispers started.

Monster. Devil. Cursed.

The unspoken words echoed her own doubts, the self-loathing that threatened to consume her. She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin defiantly. Let them whisper. Let them fear. As long as it kept them safe, she’d bear any burden.

Suddenly, she noticed movement from the corner of her eye. Arye’s arm was reaching toward her, his muscles visibly tense even beneath his ornate jacket. Skylar’s breath hitched, her heart rate spiked.

Did he notice something?

Time slowed as his hand approached her head. With careful, deliberate movements, he plucked a red petal from her silver-white hair. His fingers brushed her temple for the briefest moment, sending a jolt through her body.

Her pulse thundered, drowning out the crowd. She couldn’t discern if her racing heart was from the fear of her wig being displaced or from the electricity of Arye’s touch. Their eyes met, and for a moment, she wanted to grab him by his collar and show him how she really felt.

“A souvenir,” he murmured, tucking the petal into his pocket. His words ghosted across her cheek, warm and intimate.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they continued their slow progress through the streets. Skylar’s thoughts turned to her own family—to her mother, waiting at the Anathemarkestate. Soon, she would visit, a prospect that filled her with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

Pushing aside her musings, Skylar glanced at Arye. Despite the victorious atmosphere, tension radiated from every line of his body. His jaw was set, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he waved to the adoring crowd.

“How did the peace negotiations go?”

Arye’s expression darkened. “My father made certain… demands,” he bit out, his tone cold enough to freeze the summer air.

Before Skylar could press further, the procession slowed as it approached a line of ornate carriages carrying the kingdom’s nobility. The somber mood shifted as a melodious laugh cut through the air, drawing their attention. Lady Emma, resplendent in a gown of emerald silk that complemented her golden curls, leaned from her cushioned seat in one of the carriages.

“Oh, Duke Anathemark!” she called, her voice dripping with honeyed charm. As their horses drew level with her carriage, she continued, “It seems you’ve quite the following among the ladies… and not a few gentlemen as well.” Her gaze raked over Skylar’s form, lingering a moment too long.

Skylar felt heat creep up her neck, suddenly very aware of her body. She resisted the urge to check her breast binds, praying they were secure.

“My lady,” Skylar replied, forcing her voice into a deeper register and nodding respectfully toward the carriage. “You flatter me. But surely it’s His Highness who commands the crowd’s attention today.” She gestured toward Arye, grateful for the chance to deflect attention.

Lady Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, but Your Grace, you underestimate your own allure. Why, half the court has been abuzz with tales of your heroics on the battlefield.” Sheleaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at your… beast in action. They say it’s quite impressive when unleashed.”

Great heavens!

If there was a good day to die from embarrassment, it was today. Skylar’s mind raced, caught between the fear of her secret being discovered and the absurdity of the situation. No matter how Lady Emma meant it, Skylar had no intention of revealing either her summoning ability or her lack of manhood.

“I’m afraid my beast is not for public display, my lady,” she answered, pitching her voice low and hoping the ambiguity would suffice.

As they moved past, Arye’s lips curled into a smirk, though Skylar didn’t miss the way his knuckles whitened on the reins. “It seems you have admirers in every corner of the kingdom, Sky,” he teased, though his knuckles whitened on the reins. “Perhaps we should arrange a ball in your honor.”

“Surely not, Your Highness. Your admirers far outnumber mine,” Skylar replied, her tone light but laced with unease.

It was all so wrong. So very, very wrong. How had it come to this? She was only meant to play this role until her parents conceived a son. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

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