Page 1 of This Prince Is Not Charming

CHAPTER 1

Cillian

It was a lovely dream. One where I ran through the stark green fields that had once surrounded Fairwitch Isle. The sun warmed my face. The grass was soft and springy under my bare feet. I was young. I was free. And Ceri was beside me, her round cheeks pink and her face glowing with happiness while her golden curls bounced. We went to the place we always had: a big, knotted tree surrounded by stones and rolling hills. There weren’t many trees in this area, and that made this particular one Ceri’s favorite. We raced, and Ceri won, mainly because she cheated. This time she threw a branch in my path. I never minded because she was so gleeful about it; I couldn’t even get angry. Not when she was so iridescent after everything she’d been through.

We collapsed under the tree, side by side, just able to make out the puffy white clouds through the canopy of vibrant green.

“There,” she said, pointing to a cloud. “It’s a rabbit.”

“Looks more like an old woman to me. See that crooked nose?”

“It’s the bunny’s silhouette,” she argued. “You’re not looking at it right.”

“Maybe I’m seeing it exactly how I’m supposed to.”

She turned her head and smiled, her dimples peeking out. “So we’re both right, and we’re just seeing it through different perspectives.”

“Exactly, Cerriwen. Now you’re getting it.”

She gave me a playful shove.

I looked over at her as she turned her gaze upward again, this overwhelming warmth spreading through my chest that made my insides feel gooey and soft, so impossibly soft. I opened my mouth to tell her something, something I’d been wanting to tell her for a long time, but her head snapped in my direction, her brows furrowing. A cold dread filled me. I’d never get to tell her. I wasn’t sure why, but as she scowled at me—seemingly out of nowhere—I just knew something was wrong and I’d never be able to make it right.

“Wake up, Prince Cillian,” she said, her voice not its normal cheery tone but low and accented. Her gaze narrowed. “I said wake up. Please wake up!”

I blinked open my eyes to an angry faerie shaking me, his owl-like face scrunched, wide black eyes boring into mine.

“Fargus,” I mumbled, head hazy and pounding. “What do you want?” I asked.

My adviser dug his sharp talons into my chest, and as I shot to my feet, the owl jumped off me and flew onto a chair.

“What was that for?” I rubbed my chest, which I suspected was now streaked with angry marks.

The room was dark, and I could only see the faint outline of a bed with rumpled sheets and empty bottles of liquor. I might’ve had a little too much fun last night.

Fargus hissed, his brown and white feathered wings rustling, small spectacles perched on his short beak that made him look as boring and serious as he really was.

I rolled my eyes. “You know, I was having a lovely dream before you so rudely interrupted.”

I couldn’t even remember what I’d been dreaming about, but it had been nice, filling me with a warmth I so rarely felt these days.

“Your Majesty, we are late,” he said. He had the same accent all the Fair Folk had. Normally, it was lovely and lyrical, yet somehow Fargus managed to make it sound severe.

“Not so loud.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “It is too early in the morning for this. I thought I told you we’d meet at our spot at dawn.”

Fargus flew from his chair across the room and nudged open the curtains with his beak. The glare of the bright sun spilled in, temporarily blinding me.

Well, fuck.

“I waited.” Fargus turned from his place on the windowsill, black orb-like eyes flashing. “And waited. And waited some more. You never came. Now we’re late. I knew I shouldn’t have gone along with this. I’ve helped you with this”—he flung his wing toward the empty bottles—“debauchery for the last time.”

“At least there’s no naked woman this time,” I said. “That’s an improvement. You should be proud.” There were usually naked women, but that had come to an abrupt halt a month ago, and my cock was suffering for it.

Fargus flew to the floor, swiping at my trousers and flinging them up toward me with his talons. They flew into my stomach, and I didn’t hesitate to shove them on, lacing them up as fast as I could.

“I hope you didn’t tear this fabric with those talons of yours. This is imported silk, you know. Not easy to get in Fairwitch Isle.”

Like all the Fair Folk, Fargus could shift into any creature he wanted, and unfortunately for me, his favorite form was an owl with sharp talons.