Page 39 of The Hidden Fae Prince
“Absolutely terrible,” Tansy sighs. “Take this library. Obviously built for flying people.” He points accusingly at Nevander. “Flying people who refuse to help an adorable human in need.”
Nevander appears unmoved. Good. Tansy’s flirtatious tone of voice is uncalled for, especially half-naked like he is. Maybe Seren just isn’t used to fae customs, but he’s glad Nevander isn’t distracted.
“What books are you looking for?” Seren asks, latching onto possible common ground. Details to fill in his mental sketch of Tansy.
“Curses and bindings,” Tansy answers, promptly and alarmingly.
“You won’t find those in this library,” Nevander says, not sounding surprised enough.
Tansy winks. “I’ll find remedies and unbindings, though, which will tell me what curses to research… other ways. Don’t worry about that.”
“There’sanotherlibrary?” Seren asks, distracted. There are so many books in this room alone. “I mean, wait. Who are you trying to curse?”
“Myself,” Tansy says, like it’s obvious. “Something long-term to bind me to Summer before realm-sickness gets me.”
Tansy’s resentment spikes as he speaks. Seren replaced him once before. He doesn’t want to be replaced again.
Except this time is different. Tansy’s absence is a bruise in another world, another life. Seren has to fix it. With or without Nevander’s help.
Seren glances at Nevander. The guardian vowed not to force Tansy back, but said nothing of persuasion.
“Why don’t you want to go back?” Seren asks.
“And leave the best mead in all of Myria?” Tansy counters. “They say there’s barely any magic in the human realm. All my friends are here.” He looks Seren up and down. Jealousy flashes, bright and painful, not a hint of it reaching his smile. “You can be my friend, too. You’re pretty enough. Trust me, you’re going to love it here.”
Pain surges behind Seren’s eyes. Falsehoods and promises and hope. Painted copper above the door. The pain is Seren’s own, and he blurts out, “Edith and Alard.”
Tansy frowns. “What?”
“Your parents.” Seren shoves down the loss. They were never his. “Their names are Edith and Alard. She’s the villageapothecary, and he’s a traveling scribe. They’ve missed you all this time. It’s been… It’s been hard on them.”
Tansy’s lip twitches. For a moment, he looks as lost as Seren. Then he lifts his chin. “That’s very sad, but I don’t care.”
“You should care,” Seren snaps. Fuck. He forces his fists open, trying to control his emotions just like his magic. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed this magical fae castle, but my mother is dead. I’ll never meet her. You still have that chance.”
Tansy’s smile is far sweeter than his words. “You have a lot to learn about being fae, Prince Seren. Appealing to emotion? Try a riddle game next time.”
He sweeps a bow, chains tinkling, then snags one of the fur blankets. Whipping it over his shoulders like a cape, he stalks from the room.
Seren could probably stop him. He’s supposed to be the prince. But he doesn’t know what else he could say, and he’s never been good at riddles.
“How can he not care?” Seren asks helplessly. Mostly to himself.
Nevander gestures, and the library door swings shut. “Remember that he’s human. He can lie.”
And he’s young,rumbles a woman’s low voice.
The largest pile of furs shifts. Stretches. Rises to its feet, until its shoulders stand taller than Seren, and its massive head swings around. Tiny white flowers rustle in shaggy fur. Not a pile of blankets, but an immense brown bear.
“Nevander,” Seren says, backing away until his legs hit an armchair.
Nevander touches Seren’s shoulder, which is reassuring, but not as reassuring as drawing his sword would be. “She’s no enemy. Though hiding under glamour wasn’t very friendly.”
A sigh echoes. The rumbling voice continues, clearly coming from the bear, though her mouth doesn’t move.I dislike being bothered during naps. Then I awoke, and your conversation was too intriguing to interrupt.
After all the wonder and terror, Seren isn’t yet beyond surprise. He blinks stupidly into the bear’s warm brown face. Thetalkingbear.
Except perhaps he shouldn’t make assumptions. “Are you really a bear, or are you a fae in disguise?” Seren asks, then winces. “Sorry. Was that rude?”
