Page 55 of The Hidden Fae Prince
Seren grew up in a village on the edge of the woods. He’s no stranger to the violence of nature and cultivation, nor the sacrifice of one to save the whole. Years ago, illness struck a shepherd’s herd. She had to cull half her sheep to prevent the spread.
It just feels wrong in this land of wondrous magic. Seren is supposed to be a prince, but his every achievement is countered with helplessness. He may control his magic now, but he’s no closer to explaining his mother’s death. He’s no closer to sending Tansy home.
Maybe he can help this small creature.
“Please stay quiet,” Seren says, and tries to steady his mind. Just like when Nevander ordered the others to be quiet
The squirrel’s fear darts erratically, and once Seren would have flinched away. Instead, he tries to accept the fear, while securing his own emotions. He won’t retreat, but he won’t surrender either.
Back in Wymond, he couldn’t fix anything. He was the creature that didn’t belong. Here, he can make a small difference.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” Seren tries to sound soothing, in words and thought. “I’d like to help.”
The squirrel’s trembling slows. It stares unblinking past its fluffy tail. No longer terrified but not yet trusting.
Seren reaches for happy memories. Chiyo’s affection when he praised her apron. Summer’s fondness welcominghim home, the rightness in his heart. His relief at finding Nevander in the Winter haven.
“Why do I feel so calm?” Tansy asks, far behind him.
“Sorry,” Seren says dreamily. “I’m trying something.”
As he speaks, the squirrel uncurls. Nose twitching, it slinks from the statue to Seren’s waiting hands. Its fur is impossibly soft around the mats, its weight light as a feather. Yet the venture of trust weighs heavily.
Heart thudding, Seren holds it close. “Do you know what they eat?”
“I’ll find out,” Nevander says, his lip twitching. Almost a smile. And Seren feels a little more powerful than before.
18
A Tidingbird
Faintharpsongdancesinthe night wind, melancholy with distance. Courtiers enjoy their nightly revels, but here, the royal wing is quiet. Nevander stands invisible on his darkened balcony. Below, the garden blooms silver with starlight, fragrant with Summer’s eternal warmth.
The next balcony over is a haven of golden light. Partially obscured by honeysuckles, Seren plays with his new pet.
Mustardseed is posted outside the royal quarters tonight. Assigning other people to guard Seren feels wrong, though there’s no expectation that Nevander be by his side at all times. Most fae lords don’t keep personal bodyguards; being powerful enough to defend oneself is a point of pride. But most fae lords weren’t raised as human.
Seren’s laughter carries clearly as the squirrel darts through the greenery. A rare, private moment of happiness.Nevander’s invisible gaze is an intrusion, but he can’t tear himself away. And in the quiet, he can’t delude himself that this is his duty.
He never thought he would miss stalking Seren through Wymond. Back when he had Seren all to himself, even if leaving burned like cold iron.
Seren named the squirrel Harmony, because the people of Wymond give their animals aspirational names. A dog called Steadfast. A horse called Kindness. Nevander hadn’t known that. He was so preoccupied with watching Seren, he learned little about the world that shaped him.
Nevander wants to learn more in the most selfish way. This compulsion didn’t take root in Primrose’s haven, just revealed its nature. His desire aches like a second oath, except Nevander never swore himself to this. It’s simply the most natural response to Seren’s existence.
Nobody can know, especially Seren. Nevander must lock his emotions even deeper down as Seren’s ability grows.
Across the garden, Harmony scampers down the wall. Seren leans over the railing, ethereal in white. The loose shirt is too large for him, and arousal jolts Nevander before his mind catches up.
That’s the shirt he gave Seren in Primrose’s haven.
Seren suddenly squints into the night. Then Harmony lands on his head, and he staggers back with a yelp.
Heart pounding, Nevander retreats through his quarters. The rooms look much the same now that he’s fully moved in. He’s never been one for leisure or decorations, which never seemed a problem before. Now, he’s desperate for a distraction.
He must control himself. His duty is to protect Seren, and Seren’s place in this realm is so fragile. Nevander refuses to inflict his lust on his prince.
Even if Seren is wearing his shirt.
