Page 41 of The Ballad of a Bard

Altivar scanned her up and down, backing up a couple of steps to get a better look before a smile broke out on his face. “Well, hello there.”

His long brown hair was in a high ponytail at the top of his head, and his skin glowed with what seemed to be a pearl powder. He looked like his mother, even if slightly more masculine. He was dressed in a chiffon robe that fluttered with the breeze, draped over his shoulders in a garnet shade. Golden suns covered it, shimmering whenever he shifted. His fawn trousers came to his high waist, but he wore no shirt.

“Hello.” Crimson said warily.

West had warned her about him. And if West thought that the Prince was one of the most dangerous people to ever be known, then she wasn’t going to take his cautious statement lightly.

Altivar slunk around her, circling her like she were somesort of prey for a hunting game he’d cleverly concocted. “I was wondering when we’d eventually meet.”

“And now we have.” She went to excuse herself before she could become involved in whatever game he’d surely force her into playing. His long fingers wrapped around her upper arm and dragged her back to him. His nails were coated in a glossy lacquer that held a beige shade. They weren’t sharp, but trimmed enough that she bit back a wince.

“Not so fast. We’ve only exchanged pleasantries. I want to get to know you better.” Altivar’s voice was like liquid velvet. It was soft and silky with a hint of roughness. “Say you won’t deny me that.”

Crimson held back her barbed retort. He was the heir of the Empire, after all. Even if she didn’t like him, he still deserved that much respect. “What would you like to know?”

“Many things, so might as well make ourselves comfortable.” He chuckled and refused to let her go as he began walking in the opposite direction. The teal sash at his hips swayed with the movement, bronzed bells jingling with each step. “My rooms aren’t far from here.”

“I don’t think that West would like me to be in your rooms, Prince Altivar.” Crimson tried to flick each of his painted fingers off, one by one, but he held on strongly. There were a couple rings adorned on some of them, studded with square sapphires and round rubies.

“Nonsense. He’d want us to be well acquainted.” He waved her off, slinging her around the corner and into a new section of the castle. “Besides, considering this ismyhome firstly, not his, then I think I should get to know whom I’m living with, don’t you?”

She couldn’t argue with that logic.

Itwashis home first, then West’s.

West was a guest of the Empress and her son, and she was a guest of West.

Altivar led her like a dog on a leash towards his part of the palace, allowing her to trail behind as he brought them into his room. She supposed West’s chamberswouldbe small compared to this.

He finally let her go when they entered.

It was mostly open, with lots of curved windows that allowed the Prince to see every angle of the grounds if he ever so desired. There were plenty of lounging settees and a massive four poster bed in the second room, against the fattest wall. It was bedecked in gossamer curtains that hung over it, with all manner of creatures sewn into the sheer fabric.

Crimson took in the massive glass tank off to the side of the entrance and shivered as she saw the three scaly bodies that coiled around each other. They were black as pitch, shiny and hissing with forked tongues that flicked in and out with the rattling sounds.

“Do you like them?” He purred in her ear.

“I’ve never been a fan of snakes.” She responded, trying to look anywhere but at them again.

“I suppose most aren’t. Fascinating creatures though, snakes. They can shed their skin just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “And grow a new one, leaving the old one in the dirt.” Altivar strolled over to his curved windows and threw the citrine curtains open, tying them back with a turquoise cord. “How are you finding everything so far? I’m sure it’s vastly different from the Bronze Gate dwelling that he found you in.”

Crimson brought her gaze back to him. “It’s hard to know where to look. There’s so much colour here. Everything is beautiful.”

“Myself included?” He asked with a hint of a sly smirk. Hewas baiting for compliments, and they both knew it. But she gave into him, allowing one to slide across her tongue and over to him in the most simplistic form possible.

A single word.

“Yes.”

He was, but not in the sort that was warm, embracing or alluring. He was the cold kind, like a white winter that never ended. Or the coarse sand that refused to let up in the middle of a treacherous sandstorm.

“You flatter me.” He fanned himself with his hand as he feigned a blush. “But seeing you up close, in far better lighting than those dank, mildew infested Pits, I can most certainly see why our Captain of the Watch took an interest in you. You’re positivelyradiant.”

No one ever referred to her like that, not even Fitz when he was alive.

“Tha- thank you.” She stuttered, unused to taking any sort of compliment, let alone one from a Prince. Altivar adjusted and his robe slipped enough that she could make out both of his tattoos. The snake one that she’d seen previously, and a beetle along his opposing shoulder.

He followed her gaze and peered down at it. “Ah, you’ve found my scarab beetle. I find insects to be devious little creatures. They can spy on any conversation, blend into almost any space, fill almost any crack without ever being so much as noticed.”

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