Page 21 of Fae Lost

I fell asleep on Bleddyn’s chest, utterly exhausted. At some stage during the night, he took off the rest of his clothes and got back under the covers, enveloping me in his arms.

A knock broke our sleep before the sun had risen. Bleddyn sat up, immediately alert. “What is it?”

The innkeeper’s voice sounded through the wooden door. “Make haste. The prince will be here within the hour.”

Bleddyn faced away from me so I couldn’t make out his expression, but his shoulders tightened, and his back stiffened. When he turned around, his face was devoid of emotion.

“Let us get dressed and eat before we meet the prince.”

I was glad he assumed I didn’t want to meet Prys by myself. Today I might learn whether I had a family, and if there was a place for me here in Faerie. I might also finally learn where Luke and Kenzy had ended up.

I missed them like crazy. It had been such a shock when both of them had disappeared from the Academy, and an even bigger shock to discover they were kept captive in this realm.

If I played it right, the prince would surely be able to help me track them down. I glanced at Bleddyn, and my stomach lurched at the wave of guilt. Luke, Kenzy, and I had had an open relationship, so I knew they wouldn’t hold it against me if I found solace in somebody else’s arms.

But Bleddyn wasn’t aware of the other two. I’d never been in this situation, and maybe my lovers were already dead. My stomach twisted at the thought, and I drew a shuddery inhale to dispel the idea. The Fae warrior deserved to know about my baggage. I would tell him after meeting the prince.

Slipping out of the bed, I shivered when my bare feet hit the wooden floor. The rays of the rising sun floated through the window, but provided no heat yet. The day before, I’d dropped the new clothes on the ground. Last night, they’d been the last thing on my mind.

Damn. I’d forgotten how hideous that outfit was. I wasn’t exactly a fashion queen, but seriously? Shapeless and ugly, they weren’t fit to meet people in, never mind the royal family. But I had no choice. They were all I had, and I had neither time nor money to get better ones.

So I slipped on the rough-spun pants and shirt. Ignoring the scratchy fabric, I rubbed my stomach. If the prince was going to be here soon, I needed some warm food to anchor myself.

Bleddyn stepped up behind me, nuzzling his face against my neck. “Fear not. I shall be by your side.”

I leaned against his chest, grateful for the creature comfort. I didn’t trust him, but his words soothed the anxiety building up inside of me. When we left the room, he went down the stairs ahead of me, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

We were the only guests at this hour of the morning, and Olwen had already set a table for us, complete with wooden bowls of steaming porridge.

I sat down and sniffed. It looked a lot more appetizing than the gruel I’d been offered in the last tavern. “What is it?”

Bleddyn picked up his spoon. “It is breakfast. Try it.”

I waited for him to put the porridge in his mouth. He didn’t gag, so it was probably safe. The sweet smell of honey helped my decision. When I took a bite, I moaned at the taste of roses, of jasmine, and honeysuckle. Floral without being obtrusive, sweet without being nauseating.

I finished my portion in record time, savoring the feeling of warm sustenance in my stomach. Halfway through, Olwen brought two jars full of steaming liquid.

“This ischai,” she said and placed the drinks in front of us.

The jugs contained a dark beverage, very similar to tea in my world.

Bleddyn waited until Mistress Olwen was out of earshot. “You will recognize this. It speaks of our common heritage.”

I took a sip and knew what he meant. My dad’s favorite restaurant had served Indian cuisine, and we’d often enjoyedmasala chai. There was the same taste of sweet cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and the spicy bite of black pepper, all tempered with hot milk. Smacking my lips, I marveled at how well the chai went with the porridge.

Now that my belly was full, I couldn’t wait to meet Prince Prys. Yet the more my mood lifted, the more Bleddyn’s soured. Gone were the easy smiles and glances from last night. He fidgeted, glancing at the door to the street with apprehension. His nervousness fed my anxiety until my good mood was evaporated.

And then the door opened, and a group of men entered. I dismissed them initially—they were probably customers, dressed in simple garments like me. To my surprise, Olwen curtsied to the ground.

“Prince Prys, welcome to my tavern. It has been too long.”

My head shot up. This was it. I’d expected an entourage, dressed in jewel colors or some sort of royal attire, befitting this realm. Bleddyn rose to his feet to greet his liege lord. The men spread out in a semi-circle, leaving the prince standing in the middle.

Prys was striking, his raven hair tumbling down his back, held by a silver clasp. There was a bird-like quality to his features, his eyes piercing and his beak nose sharp and prominent. His lips were thin, but well-shaped. Like all the Fae, he was incredibly handsome. But unlike the men surrounding him, he demanded attention, even if disguised like a peasant.

Prys lifted Olwen off the floor and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Get up, my dear servant.”

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