Page 104 of The Lost Prince
“Thank you, Amaryllis. It’s beautiful. Didn’t Wisteria need help with the loom?” Shava came up behind us and addressed the little girl directly, taking the flower gently as though it were a priceless manuscript. More importantly, the girl nodded and scurried along, leaving us alone.
“Thank y—”
“Don’t you dare curl your lip at a little girl. That crushed flower was the only thing she had in her pocket when her mother took her and fled from the palace. It’s likely the only thing she’ll have from the outside world for a while. It’s priceless.”
She stared down at the tiny, flowered weed like it was a gold coin. I could see her point. I should attempt to be more diplomatic since the people down here were looking at me as a leader of sorts. A prince, even.
Ironic, considering I was the king’s bastard. I may not have the ability to change into a fire-breathing dragon, but I also wasn’t beholden to the queen with the same strange magick, either.
And yet … I would have been a good prince, given the chance. I was the oldest, technically. Did I deserve to be the prince? Did I even want it?
It didn’t matter. If anything, I was the prince of ash and bones.
“My … apologies,” I managed.
Shava smirked, patting me patronizingly on my shoulder. “Next time, don’t grit your teeth or sound like Zariah is breathing fire up your ass. You might be half-convincing, then.”
I shook her off, scowling.
“I’m going to take one of the new girls up to patrol near the east entrance. She’s been restless and this might be a good way to calm her down,” Shava said, frowning.
Wisteria was rejected from the latest marriage trials for being unpure. Yet it had been nothing but pure luck that Shava had taken to memorizing the passages and secret tunnels under the castle, patrolling and listening. She’d heard them dragging Wisteria away and snuck her out of her cell.
Which was all well and fine until too many people went missing. The queen knew we were out here. She knew it was us. Stupid marriage trials. All in the hopes of finally pairing Prince Zion off. Poor sod.
“Very well. Go on your patrol. Try not to pick up any more strays. We’re at our limit for the week.”
Shava didn’t care about the risk. She’d rescue as many as she could, and storm the castle if she had to. How could I explain to her that more people could be saved if she was careful about who she took?
Her lips twitched at my dry humor. She was one of the few who understood it was humor, and not a callous disregard for others. Mostly.
“Be back by dawn.”
She rose to her tiptoes to give me a give peck, but I swung her around into a deep kiss, dipping her down in my arms. Her lips were sweet.
“You know, your nighttime wanderings leave me cold in our cot,” I complained. Shava had her own tent near the other women, but usually stayed with me.
She grinned, tapping my nose with a finger. “Tomorrow night, then. I promise.”
The flower fell from her hand to mine, and I clutched it in reflex. It was impossible not to watch her ass as she sashayed down the row of tents, stopping in one to pick up her new friend. Her night time wanderings were bringing too many people, but the hobby kept her busy and left me to my own diversions.
The flower slipped from my fingers, its delicate petals crushed under my boot.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Ihad saidno more strays. I thought I’d been pretty clear. And yet here she was, bringing back another mud girl. At least I recognized this one: Mari, Shava’s friend from the mud quarter who I’d knocked out and left in the tunnels.
By the look of awe on Mari’s face, she didn’t remember any of that.
Good.
Like Shava, she’d survived her reaping. I supposed she could stay. What harm could one girl do, anyway?
* * *
I stood in the desert surrounded by refugees, glaring up at the cave where I knew ZariahandZion were holed up with Mari.
What fucking damage could one girl do, eh?
