I put on a t-shirt and my boots, and strapped on my other blades for comfort. Arthur followed me as I made my way to the door. I paused with my hand on the doorknob. He had put on his boots, but was still shirtless. I enjoyed the view, but I didn't want anyone else to enjoy it. I scowled.

"You're not going to put on a shirt?"

He grinned. "Why? Afraid you'll be distracted?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're definitely Burak's brother."

With insufferable smugness, he put on a t-shirt. My steps echoed in the quiet hallways. Arthur moved like a ghost.

Our wing was private, and guards kept out of it. But as soon as we left it, the hallways teemed with security. They must have reported our exit the night before to Rion, but there was no rule against taking a stroll outside at night.

The courtyard was empty, safe for the patrolling green and gold guards. The golden fae emblem in their uniforms winked under the rising sun.

The pathways cutting through the garden criss crossed in the center, in a square span of ground covered in smooth flagstones. The perfect spot.

Arthur's t-shirt stretched across his chest as he took position across from me. As one, we unsheathed our swords and threw the scabbards aside.

I took a side on stance that left very few openings and raised my sword. Arthur just stood there, wide open, swinging his sword lazily by his side. Arrogant ass. I had held that sword, and it was so heavy I could barely carry it using two hands. And here he was, swinging it around like it weighed nothing.

"Confident, aren't we?" I asked, circling him. The weight of the sword and the sudden sharpness of my senses took my mind off things. I felt better already.

Arthur moved. The world slowed down to a crawl. The tree leaves rustled in my ears. The cool breeze pricked my skin, bringing with it Arthur's heartbeat and warm scent.

I dodged his single handed lunge and swiped his blade aside with mine. Metal against metal. The sound echoed in the morning air, hailing the beginning of another bloody day.

We jumped back. Arthur's foot barely touched the ground before he flew my way again. I almost lost my balance when his sword went through the gap between my arm and side. It would have grazed my side had I not twisted out of the way. I lowered myself with my turn and aimed a kick to the back of his knees. It connected. But he didn't even budge. Ugh. He swung his elbow. I ducked under and aimed my sword at his middle.

Arthur slid his sword against mine and leapt away, but I followed. He was stronger, bigger and faster than me. My lack of strength and speed compared to him was a definite weakness. But my smaller size didn't have to be. Uncle Robert's teaching guided my movements.

Take advantage of your smaller stature.

Arthur and I exchanged blows, the sounds getting louder and more frenzied as the sun rose, our long shadows dancing on the ground. Sweat beaded my forehead.

I refused to use my magic to land a hit. We went blow for blow, Arthur having the upper hand. He tempered his hits to not hurt me. I chafed at the knowledge, but I also knew that if he hit me with his full strength he would break me in half.

The opening came when Arthur swung a little too wide because he thought I was going for his back. I took advantage of the hole in his defense and stepped into his space. My small body fit perfectly against him. The short range meant my sword was useless, but I already had my steel dagger out and planted in his side.

Arthur groaned. I felt a tickle in my side, an echo of his pain. Arthur wrapped an arm around me before I could dance out of his reach.

His breath tickled my ears. "Well played."

I breathed air like a fish out of the water. Slowly, my senses returned to normal with a rush of blood in my ears. My head was fuzzy as the thrill of the fight wore off. I was aware of the presence of several immortals around.

"Are you okay?" I pushed away from him and eyed his shirt. Blood stained his side. My dagger was still there. I pulled it out so the wound could start healing, wincing as new blood expanded the stain on his clothes. Thank goodness I had the presence of mind to reach for my steel dagger instead of the silver. I tucked the dagger into its sheath.

He gave me his sword. I almost keeled under the weight. "Damn it."

He smiled and the sword left my hand to float nearby. He pulled off his t-shirt. "I believe we've attracted a fair bit of attention."

His words made me take in our surroundings. Apparently, the castle had woken up during our fight. The gardens hosted a dozen individuals other than the guards. Most of the castle guests had come close to watch our fight.

Among the spectators were my father, Amelia and Rami. Eva and Molly, the twins I'd met at dinner the previous night, stood nearby, too, with a few other females. Their eyes were wide, part fearful and part fascinated. And when they settled on Arthur, I swallowed down a growl. They had spoken about him yesterday like he was a heathen beneath them, but they sure stared at him now like he was a fine male specimen. Which he was, but I didn't appreciate their ogling.

Hussies.

Okay. That was mean, but still. I wished I could pluck out their eyeballs. Arthur chuckled and tugged on my hair. I glared at him. "Why didn't you bring a spare shirt?"

"I'll be sure to walk around with spare clothing from now on."

Smartass.

My father approached, leaving his mate and the witch behind. His long legs ate the distance between us. Dressed in a white dress shirt rolled to the elbows and black dress pants, it was the most casual I'd seen him. A glance around told me that everyone was dressed in suits and formal dresses. Thank goodness I didn't have to live here. I couldn't spend my days all trussed up in stiff clothing. Arthur and I must look like savages.

"Is the wound healing?" I asked Arthur.

Arthur wiped his bloodied side with his t-shirt. The skin looked smooth beneath the smeared blood. I breathed out.

"Thank you for not using silver," he said. "It makes things much less uncomfortable."

My father heard him as he stopped next to me. His eyes looked me over. "Are you well?"

Our scabbards drifted through the air toward us. The swords tucked themselves inside. Arthur and I plucked our sword from the air. I smiled. "You do realize Arthur is the one injured, right?"

"Yes." My father eyed me carefully. "You fight like Robert."

That was the best compliment anyone could ever pay me. My mood lifting, I beamed at my father. "Is that so?"

He nodded. "Except for the fact that he wouldn't have used that little trick in the end. Winning a sword fight using a dagger isn't exactly... orthodox."

"You want to say it's a dirty trick. It's okay. I don't really care about formalities." I said with a devious grin. "If I don't cheat, I won't win against Arthur."

The honor of a swordmaster wouldn't let them use tricks like mine. Except this was the real world. Honor alone wouldn't keep me alive.

My father looked at Arthur. "What if she was injured?"

"Your daughter is much stronger than you give her credit for, Orion."

Orion sighed and looked at me. "I see. It is a shame you didn't have an education fit for the royal that you are. But I see that Robert has taught you much more practical skills."

"And I'm glad he did." I didn't know if life as a royal would have suited me. But then again, had I been raised here, I would have been a completely different person. If I'd stayed alive, that is.

Orion hummed in agreement. "So am I, in a way. Although having guards around is always a good idea."

"Elle's security is my concern," Arthur said in his cold Lord voice.

Orion put his hands in his pockets. "It was a simple observation. Although now that you mention it, you do realize the simple fact that she is your mate will make her a target."

I rolled my eyes. Now they were just looking for whatever reasons to provoke each other.

"I'm well aware of that fact," Arthur said.

"She would have been better off with someone else," my father said. "Someone less... conspicuous. There are a few I could think of."

Arthur smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Why don't you tell me their names?"

My father blinked. "You cannot mean to get rid of every single prospect my daughter has. Those are innocent men."

Ah. I saw what my father was doing. Unfortunately for him, I already knew that Arthur's moral lines were murky, at best, if he even had any. That didn't make me love him any less. I wasn't blind to that flaw. But I would do my best to keep him from being so far gone down that bloody hole.

"Anything that threatens Elle's relationship with me should not exist," Arthur replied coolly. "If that bothers you, your highness, then you're free to keep your matchmaking efforts to yourself."

I sighed. "Would you two ever get along?"

"No," they said as one. Well, at least they're in sync on this matter.

Amelia and Rami had disappeared when I turned around. Too bad. I had wanted to have a chat with Rami, see if I could glean any information from him.

After a promise to have a bout of sword fight with my father later, Arthur walked beside me to the castle.

"Don't kill any innocent men," I told Arthur once we were in our room.

His only response was a bland look. I narrowed my eyes. "I mean it, Arthur. I don't want the weight of innocent deaths on my conscience." Or on yours.

His jaw worked. "I will try."

That was the best I would get. Arthur closed the distance between us. "The only reason I'm capitulating on this is because I know you will not forgive me the transgression."

Would I not forgive him? The answer should be a firm no, but I hesitated. And wasn't that just peachy? I had only been with him for months and my moral compass was already shifting. I needed to get my head on straight.

"However, I am serious in my earlier threats. If a man comes close to you with the intention to take my place, I will end him," he continued, bending down so his head was inches from mine. A cloud twisted the bond, sending a dark feeling of possessiveness and ire roaring through the bond like an angry lion. It matched the look in his eyes. He was deadly serious, quite literally.

The flicks of light brown in his irises were nowhere to be seen despite the sun shining through the window. The smell of his blood and sweat mixed in my nose, an addictive scent that softened the edges of his words and ignited fireworks in my stomach.

I flicked his forehead.

The dark filling the bond lightened, turning the lion from angry to annoyed.

I smoothed my finger on the spot that I hit on his forehead. I bet he hadn't even felt it. "I shouldn't be the one telling you killing innocent people is wrong."

He took my hand and kissed the back of it. "As I told your father, they're not innocent if they threaten your presence beside me."

I shook my head. "When we go back home, you and I need to sit down and have a long chat about your sense of right and wrong."

His face softened. "Looking forward to it, my love. Meanwhile, you can be my conscience."

After shower and breakfast, Arthur and I parted ways again. I wanted to pay a visit to my mother's village near her cottage, and he had a few meetings with Rion, my father and their top officials.

Since he couldn't come along. He saddled me with Irene, Charles and Noah. Marianno stayed with him after I threatened to give my guards the slip if he didn't take him. It was a dirty trick, but it worked. He took Marianno along.

Yesterday's horses waited for us in the stable, saddled and ready to go. I thanked the stable boy with a smile, a young fae barely over twenty. He looked surprised. He bowed his head and watched as we trotted away.

"So..." I eyed Irene. She seemed slightly calmer today. "What did Charles do to deserve getting his face clawed?"

Irene glared at me. Charles was within earshot in front of us, his blond head bobbing to the rhythm of his horse. Noah, in his big black wolf, took the rear. The sun had disappeared behind thick, gray clouds, and the shadows in the forest melted into one another, basking the place in darkness despite the early hour. I took a deep breath. It smelled like rain.

"No, seriously, what did he do?" I asked Irene in a whisper.

Irene looked at Charles, pursed her lips. Heat rose to her face. Was she actually blushing? My eyes widened. I gave a low whistle. "Well, then..."

"It's not like that," she said hotly.

"Aha."

"I'm serious, Elle, drop it," she said. "It's not like you and Arthur are braiding each other's hair all night."

It was my turn to flush. My scowl made Irene's eyes twinkle. I was glad to see the heavy expression disappear from her face, even if it was at my expense.

"Fine. I'll drop it." For now.

We passed by my mother's cottage. It looked haunting under the clouded sky, standing all alone, tucked between hills. Or maybe it was the knowledge sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach, that my mother was somehow involved in the corrupt scheme to open another gate and drown the world in horrors of millenia past.

We found the village easily. We had consulted a map before leaving the castle, and a dirt road led straight to the village itself; an organized scattering of low, peaked roof cottages. The houses were all gray stone and windows. The road cutting through to the village was paved, and I spotted a few cars as we tethered our horses in a tree just outside the village bounds.

It should have looked gloomy and dull, what with the gray houses and road, but the flowers budding near the buildings and in the ivy climbing the walls added life to an otherwise dreary place.

Noah emerged from the cover of trees, human and dressed. Charles had stuffed Noah's clothes in his saddle for the trip.

Minutes later, we walked through the village where my mother had spent part of her life. I took everything in, the small coffee shops, the gardens, the streams cutting through the roads and the small bridges arching over them. The place was charming.

I would have enjoyed it if not for the inhabitants. The people of the village didn't do anything. They simply looked. They were all fae, children and adults, men and women, and they all stared at us like they never saw an outsider before.

And maybe they never had, especially the children. It would probably be their first time seeing shapeshifters. Irene, Noah and I got the majority of the looks.

I rolled my shoulders against the weight of the eyes and the whispers. Some spoke English, most spoke Irish. But I was fluent in Irish thanks to uncle Robert. The fae either didn't know how sensitive my hearing was, or they didn't care.

"Is that her?"

"She doesn't feel right."

"Why did they let her live?"

"She's a royal, they're not going to kill one of their own."

"Madness..."

"I wonder when she'll lose it..."

My fingers twitched. I closed my hand on the hilt of my sword, breathing my magic inside where it didn't threaten to lash out. I was now grateful for the blood Arthur had me drink this morning, and for the training session.

I was getting sick and tired of everyone looking at me like I was going to snap out any moment now and drink them dry of blood.

The unknown breeds fear in the hearts of the weak.

Arthur's words made sense. I shouldn't blame the fae, their fear was logical, understandable even. That knowledge didn't make me feel any better, though.

"I think that's the library." I followed Irene's gaze. A wooden stand lined with shelves stood in front of a shop a few buildings down the road. It was the first library we'd seen here.

I peeked through the glass door. A typical library, with rows of dark wooden shelves lined with books, and dark wooden floors. A couple of tables and chairs occupied the space right under the windows. A counter stretched along the wall to the right of the door.

Dark blue eyes.

I met the gaze of the man sitting behind the counter. His eyes were wide, his lips parted and his freckled face pale with shock. His mouth formed one word.

Orla.

My mother's name. I guess I was at the right place.

I pushed the door open.

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Much love <3

M.B.