Page 70 of Royal Captive
“She is not your darling,” Ellis sneered at him.
The fae tilted his head to the side, a slow grin curling across his face. “You need—”
He stopped short, eyes falling onto the wound on the side of my neck.
“Interesting,” he breathed out.
I put a hand up to my throat, self-conscious about the mark and Alihandro’s betrayal.
“Hayida,” the fae offered, nodding once at me.
I snuck a glance at Ellis, not understanding the fae word.
“It’s his name,” Ellis replied softly, not taking his eyes off of the figure in front of us.
“Ah. I—”
“Eve and Ellis. I know. Everyone knows.” Hayida offered me a fang-filled grin, bowing lightly. I nodded back, since it felt appropriate. It took an elbow in Ellis’s side, but he stiffly inclined his head as well. “Welcome to prison. I see you already met Strumo and his gang. Best to stay away from them. They’re all prisoners here in the …classicsense.”
Ellis snorted. “And you aren’t?”
Hayida gave him a mild look, his index and middle fingers twitching. A small, homemade pipe appeared betweenhis fingers, already stuffed with tobacco. “Criminality is all perspective, is it not?”
He leered down at Ellis, sniffing him as if he stank.
“You’re a fire mage, yes?”
Ellis blinked at the non sequitur, storm clouds brewing in his eyes. “My magick is fire, but the cuffs—”
Hayida darted forward and grabbed Ellis’s wrists. Ellis jerked as a flare of red burst from his fingertips, enough of an ember that it sparked the end of Hayida’s pipe. The fae drew back, satisfied.
“Don’t try that on your own. Took a few decades to get right,” he cautioned Ellis, one eyebrow furrowed in a memory.
Ellis winced, rubbing his wrists which were covered in angry red burns. I glared at Hayida
The older fae puffed away happily, clearly not intending to say anything else.
“You said Strumo was a prisoner in the classic sense,” I pushed, unable to handle the silence and likely to punch him in his face if I didn’t distract myself. “What do you mean?”
Hayida took a deep draw on the pipe, then gestured with it toward the other groups spread around the yard.
“You have the worst of the worst here: violent criminals who’ve killed and raped. You also have the unfortunate political prisoners.” He gave a little twirl and a bow, then returned to his pensive expression as he puffed away.
“Political prisoners mixed with violent criminals. That’s monstrous! Why would the king do that?” I gasped, realizing we were in trouble.
Ellis huffed. “Father mentioned how our grandfather used to do it as king. Mix in a few inconvenient, loud-mouthed nobles with a murderer, and if one or both of them die in a prison fight, well, that’s two problems solved, isn’t it?”
I gaped at Ellis, shocked. “That’s not—”
Hayida said, “I wouldn’t think you’d still be so innocent and full of ridiculous ideals after surviving the Hunt.”
I glared at Hayida. “Maybe clinging to them is what kept me alive.”
He grunted. “You didn’t win, either.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to argue we’d won by shutting the whole thing down, but what was the point?
Political prisoners … like Peri? Her dying moments filled my memory. Had she spent time here in this very yard? Did she know Hayida?
