The Cruel Prince (The Folk of the Air #1)(38)
Growing up here, in Faerie, will he learn to scorn mortals? When I am old and he is still young, will he scorn me, too? Will he become cruel like Cardan? Will he become brutal like Madoc?
I have no way of knowing.
I step off the toad, foot in the stirrup as I swing my body down. I pat just above her nose, and her golden eyes drift shut. In fact, she seems a little like she might be asleep until I yank on the reins, leading her back toward the stables.
“Hello,” Locke says, jogging up to me. “Now, where might you have gone off to?”
“None of your business,” I tell him, but I soften the words with a smile. I can’t help it.
“Ah! A lady of mystery. My very favorite kind.” He’s wearing a green doublet, with slits to show his silk shirt underneath. His fox eyes are alight. He looks like a faerie lover stepped out of a ballad, the kind where no good comes to the girl who runs away with him. “I hope you’ll consider returning to classes tomorrow,” he says.
Vivi continues to chase Oak, but Taryn has stopped near a large elm tree. She watches me with the same expression she had on the tournament field, as though if she concentrates hard enough, she can will me into not offending Locke.
“You mean so your friends know they haven’t chased me off?” I say. “Does it matter?”
He looks at me oddly. “You’re playing the great game of kings and princes, of queens and crowns, aren’t you? Of course it matters. Everything matters.”
I am not sure how to interpret his words. I didn’t think I was playing that kind of game at all. I thought I was playing the game of pissing off people who hated me already and eating the consequences.
“Come back. You and Taryn both should return. I told her so.” I turn my head, looking for my twin in the yard, but she is no longer by the elm. Vivi and Oak are disappearing over a hill. Perhaps she has gone with them.
We get to the stables, and I return the toad to her pen. I fill her water station from a barrel in the center of the room, and a fine mist appears, raining down on her soft skin. The horses nicker and stamp as we leave. Locke watches this all in silence.
“May I ask you something else?” Locke says, glancing in the direction of the manor.
I nod.
“Why haven’t you told your father what’s been happening?” Madoc’s stables are very impressive. Maybe standing in them, Locke was reminded of just how much power and influence the general has. But that doesn’t mean I am the inheritor of that power. Maybe Locke should also remember that I am merely one of the by-blow children of Madoc’s human wife. Without Madoc and his honor, no one would care about me.
“You mean so he can go stomping into our classes with a broadsword, killing everyone in sight?” I ask, instead of correcting Locke about my station in life.
Locke’s eyes widen. I guess that wasn’t what he meant. “I thought that your father would pull you out—and that if you didn’t tell him, it was because you wanted to stay.”
I give a short laugh. “That’s not what he’d do at all. Madoc is not a fan of surrender.”
In the cool dark of the stables, with the snorting of faerie horses all around us, he takes my hands. “Nothing there would be the same without you.”
Since I never intended to quit, it’s nice to have someone making all this effort to get me to do something I would have done anyway. And the way he’s looking at me, the intensity of it, is so nice that I am embarrassed. No one has ever looked at me this way.
I can feel the heat of my cheeks and wonder if the shadows help cover it up at all. Right then, I feel as though he sees everything—every hope of my heart, every stray thought I’ve had before falling into an exhausted sleep each dawn.
He brings one of my hands up to his mouth and presses his lips against my palm. My whole body tenses. I am suddenly too warm, too everything. His breath is a soft susurration against my skin.
With a gentle tug, he pulls me closer. His arm is around me. He leans in for a kiss and my thoughts slide away.
This can’t be happening.
“Jude?” I hear Taryn call uncertainly from nearby, and I stagger away from Locke. “Jude? Are you still in the stable?”
“Here,” I say, my face hot. We emerge into the night to find Oriana on the steps of the house, hauling Oak inside. Vivi is waving to him as he tries to squirm free from his mother’s grip. Taryn has her hands on her hips.
“Oriana has called everyone in to dinner,” Taryn informs us both grandly. “She wants Locke to stay and eat with us.”
He makes a bow. “You may inform your lady mother that though I am honored to be asked to her table, I would not so impose myself on her. I only wanted to speak with you both. I will, however, call again. You may be sure of that.”
“You talked to Jude about school?” There is trepidation in Taryn’s voice. I wonder what they spoke about before I returned. I wonder if he persuaded her to attend the lectures again, and if so, how he did it.
“Until tomorrow,” he says to us with a wink.
I watch him walk off, still overwhelmed. I don’t dare look at Taryn, for fear she will see all of it on my face, the whole day’s events, the almost kiss. I am not ready to talk, so I am the one who avoids her for once. Skipping up the steps with as much nonchalance as I can muster, I head to my room to change for dinner.