Chapter 12

Alaric.

I wake up to daylight streaming in the cottage windows.

Beside me is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, nestled against me in the sheets. Her violet eyes are not yet open.

As the day begins to come on the events yesterday begin to come back to me. The image of Seraphina running her hands over her body in the firelight. The feeling of my cock inside her…

I turn to look at her. Her ruby-red lips are softly parted in sleep. She slowly blinks her eyes open.

“Alaric,” she sighs softly. She reaches her hand across my chest and strokes the soft hair in the center. Even the lightest touch from her is heaven.

I cast my eyes about the room. The simple hearth. The stacks of paintings in the corner. One is hung by the door, a wide and circling portal. I can’t help but stare.

“What are you looking at?” says Seraphina sleepily from the bed.

“Your painting,” I say. “What is it?”

She smiles, and the warmth on her face illuminates the room brighter than the creeping daylight. It’s a pleasure to see her smile for once. “It’s something that came to me in a dream,” she replies.

I don’t know what’s come over me. I feel exhausted but happy in the arms of this woman.

Surely this is too soon, too simple for love. It can’t be so easy. I don’t know what’s happening—I don’t want to be in love. Probably it was just a good lay…

Seraphina gives my bicep a squeeze. She sits up and looks around.

“Where’s Ivy?” she says, casting her gaze to the little cot in the corner. The sheets are rumpled and the bed is empty.

Her amethyst eyes widen, and the soft expression on her face is replaced by fear. She leaps from bed, throws a veil over her head, and strides quickly out the door still barefoot.

“Ivy!” I can hear her call just outside the cabin. “Ivy!”

Her voice sounds desperate.

I get up quickly and throw on my shirt, now dry from the hearth.

Seraphina has already run ahead of me into the woods. The air is crisp and cool, unusual for this time of year.

“Seraphina!” I call after her. I can hear her running not far ahead, and I run after her.

Ahead of me I hear a cry. “Ivy!” I hear Seraphina wail with anguish.

I sprint ahead to find Seraphina crouched over a small body. It’s Ivy. Tears are streaming down Seraphina’s face.

“Step aside Seraphina,” I say cooly, but I know I’m not disguising the pain in my voice.

I crouch down to look at the child. Her face is bloody, and a long gash runs down her arm. Her other arm is twisted at an odd angle. Bruises are beginning to bloom across her legs. I press my fingers against her neck and feel a pulse. She is unconscious, but alive.

“Oh gods,” whispers Seraphina through tears. “I should have never let her out of my sight.” She begins to pull up herbs with white fluffy tops beside her.

 “She’s alive, just badly hurt,” I say brusquely. “She needs a healer. We need to go to the palace.”

Seraphina’s eyes, the only thing I can see behind her veil, widen at this. “We can’t Alaric, we’re not welcome there,” she says.

“I’m the prince, gods be damned, and we’re going,” I say firmly.

Seraphina packs the herbs into the gash on Ivy’s arm, then tears off a piece of cloth from the bottom of her shift and winds it around the wound.

I gingerly lift the little limp body from the forest floor. “Follow me,” I say to Seraphina.

She nods wordlessly.

We make our way quickly through the forgotten wood, cross the river, and rush through the orchard into the depths of the palace.

We surface into the main chambers of the palace and are greeted by a shout.

“Who are these people!” booms a voice through the corridor.

It’s Sir Caleb Stormrider, the captain of the Royal Guard with a perennial stick up his ass.

“Stormrider, the girl is hurt. She needs to see a healer,” I say fiercely.

“Your Highness, the girls cannot be admitted. They are low-born. You know this,” comes the cool reply from Sir Stormrider’s stern, scarred face. The scar crosses the top of his brow and bisects his lips.

Seraphina hangs back, but I can feel her anxiety…

“God damn it Stormrider, can’t you see she’s bleeding?!” I shout. “I don’t give a fuck if she’s low-born or a fucking queen. Let us through!”

Sir Stormrider narrows his eyes. “Seek care for her elsewhere,” he says firmly.

“Fuck you Stormrider,” I shout and push past him. But I can tell he’s acquiesced. Seraphina follows me quickly.

“You’ll have to answer to your father for this, Your Highness,” comes Caleb’s voice from behind us as we make our way quickly down the corridor.

We arrive at the chambers of Sir Elias Humpston. “Elias!” I yell into the shut door. “Come the fuck out right now!”

The door opens and Elias’ green eyes grow wide. His face whitens.

“Oh gods…I’ll find the healer,” says Elias in a quivering voice. Even the big man is shaken by the sight of this bloodied little girl.

I lay Ivy across Elias’ bed. Without a word, Seraphina fetches water and begins washing the wounds. I look at her helplessly.

In a few minutes, Elias returns through followed by a graceful woman in white healer’s robes. Silver hair flows down her back.

She rushes to Ivy, her soft blue eyes blazing with concern. She holds her fingers to the little girl’s neck, then hovers her hands palms outstretched across Ivy’s body.

She looks to Seraphina. “You’ve done well to stop the bleeding with yarrow. Please bring more water,” she says.

“A low-born child,” says the healer beneath her breath, but I hear it.

“This is Lady Luna Silverthorn,” says Elias, “the healer I told you about.”

I watch the healer practice her craft on the child. She speaks words in a low tone that I don’t understand as she moves her hands across the girl’s body.

Ivy’s hazel eyes blink open. She lets out a whimper. “Seraphina…Prince Alaric…” she says softly.

“I saw…there are….”

“Monsters. At the river.”