Page 2 of This Prince Is Not Charming

“This is going to look bad, Your Majesty.” He peered up at me through his spectacles. “I can only do so much to protect you.”

I grabbed my shirt from the bed and stretched it over my head. “Protect me from what? We live in an invisible city at the top of a mountain.”

Voices whispered in the back of my mind, reminding me that there were many things I needed protecting from. That was the whole reason today was even happening. For my protection. For Fairwitch Isle’s protection.

“From the wrath of the Fair Folk.” Fargus’s wings twitched. “Since your city landed on our mountaintop, we’ve struggled to blend our communities, but we’re finally on the right path.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

Fargus’s magic whirled on the floor in front of me, a small portal opening that sucked my boots in. The portal reappeared in front of my stomach as the boots flew out and right into my abdomen, making me let out an oomph. That was the other thing the Fair Folk could do—create portals. Very useful most of the time, except right now when Fargus was using the ability against me.

“And if you’re late”—he paced back and forth like he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me—“that will be a blatant sign of disrespect. It will make the Fair Folk think you’re unhappy with this arrangement.”

I lifted a leg, wobbling as I yanked on a black boot. “I’m not unhappy.”

Fargus’s head swiveled in my direction. “Yes, that’s part of the problem.”

This conversation was making my head hurt. “Fargus, please at least be consistent. One minute you’re telling me I shouldn’t be unhappy, and then next you’re saying I should?”

“I’m saying I want you to feel something. Anything at all. You’re always just so . . .”

“Charming? Easy to get along with? Fun?”

“Apathetic,” he said, an edge to his voice.

I swallowed at the word. It punched the air from my lungs. Apathetic. If only Fargus knew that was exactly the way I preferred it, that I couldn’t allow myself to feel things because if I did, everything would fall apart. That the only way I could go through with today, I could be the high prince everyone needed me to be, was exactly because of how numb I was. How numb I made myself.

Fargus sighed heavily, the tip of his wing touching some sticky substance on the ground. He grimaced as he pulled it away. “This place is disgusting. I don’t know why you come here.”

I shoved my hand in my pocket, feeling for the empty vial that I needed to get refilled. The plan had been to do that last night, but I’d gotten sidetracked, stopping by Ceri’s apartment to play cards with her and her father. Ceri had won, of course. She always had to win. It was a fun night, but there was a sense of heaviness, too, all of us knowing that after today, I wouldn’t be able to just pop in and play cards whenever I wanted.

So maybe I’d stayed a little longer than necessary, making Fargus cranky when I was late and he’d wanted to go to bed, not portal me somewhere across the continent.

“You smell like whiskey.” Fargus leaned his beak forward, then jumped back like he was offended.

I held up a finger. “Expensive whiskey. Can’t get whiskey like this in Fairwitch Isle. Some of the best stuff.”

“And I take it you drank far too much of it.”

When I’d arrived in Cambergé, the plan had been to get my tonic and go to bed. But I suppose I’d needed more than my tonic last night. I needed to let go completely. Unfortunately, I’d let go so completely that I hadn’t had time to visit the local apothecary. “Can’t a man celebrate the night before his life is about to change forever?”

Fargus flew toward the door, and I followed, the hole-riddled floorboards creaking under my boots. “Let’s just portal out of this room. We can close the curtains and no one will see you disappear.”

Every time Fargus portaled me out of Fairwitch Isle, there was a risk that someone would see. And the possibility that they’d run to the Brotherhood of Magic, who’d become far too powerful. They had eyes and ears everywhere, and they were looking for us. It would only be a matter of time before they found Fairwitch Isle again. I knew my secret activities heightened that chance. But I couldn’t stop. It was the only way to get my tonic.

The cold, empty vial pressed against my palm, still tucked away in my pocket.

“You could just drink in Fairwitch Isle, you know. We do have a perfectly nice tavern.”

I snorted. Hardly. I was under so much scrutiny, and my sentient castle would likely hide all the liquor from me. Fargus thought it was the booze and women I came for. He’d have a heart attack if he knew the real reason I wanted to portal out of Fairwitch Isle every month.

He lifted a wing, magic swirling from it.

“No,” I said, and the magic disappeared.

“We have to go, Your Majesty.” His tone took on an urgency.

“I need to do something first.” Surely the apothecary would be open by now. “An errand I have to run.”