True North [True North series book 1/3]

I took a step back in shock, and looked at Warrian. “But you said—”

“He lied,” Thoridor said, “he heard me coming, that much is true, but he didn’t leave. He stayed, in my quarters. Where he was about to spend the night with you.”

“The way I spent it with you,” I countered, “one of us would have spent the night on the floor. And he was only doing it so I wouldn’t have to stay in the servants quarters.”

Thoridor looked at Morai. “Is that true?” he asked, his voice so low it was barely audible.

Morai shrugged. “She’s not staying with me,” she said plainly.

“Morai…” Thoridor threatened, dragging out her name dangerously.

“Then open up a gateway,” I pleaded, “please. No one is more sick of me being here than I am, I promise. Please, Sire, let me go.”

I didn’t even really know which royal I was addressing at this point — Thoridor, Morai, or the Queen. I just hoped one of them would hear me, and help me.

“I am not the subject the prophecy is about!” Morai yelled, kicking a piece of wood. “Go bother someone else with your human stupidity.”

I squared my shoulders. “Solving the prophecy seems to be in all of our best interest, Sire, respectfully.”

I closed my eyes, reciting the prophecy in my head — all parts I could remember. Then, I thought of something.

“The other human,” I said, grabbing Warrian’s arm, “you mentioned there was another human here. Has she never tried going back to our world?”

Morai scoffed. “Myrtha?” she asked, “what use would that be? She knows no different. She came here as a youngling, it is thought her kin sacrificed her.”

My eyes widened. “She who has known loss, agony and sacrifice like no other shall be the bearer of peace,” I recited, “what if it’s her? What if her parents were royals in the human world, and she’s the prophecy’s subject?!”

Everyone stared at me for a second. “What about feathers for hands?” Morai asked skeptically.

“A soft, gentle touch,” I said, “her skin is wrinkled, right? So are her hands, probably. I know no one with a touch softer than my grandmother’s — that must be it!”

“Is this human still in Aquatic Ardanis?” the Queen asked.

Thoridor shook his head. “She should be on her way to the Terrestrial palace,” he said.

“It’s worth a try,” the Queen said, you should go tomorrow. Rest now, all of you. Thoridor, where do you wish to stay?”

“I will take your quarters,” Thoridor said plainly, before walking toward the Queen’s tent. I waited for the Queen and Morai to follow him, but they didn’t.

“Warrian, clear the servant’s quarters,” Morai commanded. My eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What’s going on?” I asked, following Warrian as he approached the servants quarters.

“The Queen and Princess need a place to stay,” Warrian replied. I halted my step, and then ran to catch up with him.

“You don’t mean Thoridor can just break down his tent and then demand others to leave their place because he… threw a tantrum, do you?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Warrian said, “now go find a place to hide, I don’t want the servants seeing you.”

I grabbed his arm. “His mother is the Queen,” I emphasized, “surely she’ll hold more power than the Prince does?”

Warrian turned to look at me, and sighed. “No, she doesn’t,” he explained, “the Crown Prince is first in line for the crown. He is the most powerful one in the monarchy, second to the King of course. But the Queen, no, even if she hadn’t rejected the mating bond, she’d follow behind her children.”

“What does that mean, ‘rejecting the mating bond’?” I asked.

Warrian’s eyes darted back and forth between me and the Queen, clearly trying to figure out if he had time to explain all this to me while she waited for him to clear out the tent. He apparently decided against it, as he turned around and entered the tent. A few moments later, a string of Ardanians exited the tent, each looking less human than the previous. I held my breath and hoped they wouldn’t see me, just now realizing I was still standing there, fully visible, despite Warrian’s warning.

About half of the servants started carrying furniture from the Queen’s tent to the servants quarters, and the other half gathered around the rubble, and started quietly rebuilding the tent Thoridor and Warrian had destroyed. They seemed to have all the materials on hand, from the tent cloth to the logs that made up the wall. It made me wonder if this had happened before. Warrian came out of the servants quarters after a while, and let the Queen know her new place was ready. She and Morai disappeared into the tent without another word.

I stood there, baffled. I couldn’t believe Thoridor had acted the way he had — destroying his tent as if it was nothing, and then demanding his families’ quarters instead, making sure he himself had a comfortable place to stay, disadvantaging everyone around him.

I looked at Warrian. “Do his people actually like him?!” I asked, nodding in Thoridor’s direction, “what a despicable…”

Warrian’s eyes widened, and suddenly, Thoridor’s new tent blew open, and he exited, storming my way. Warrian got in front of me, but Thoridor shoved him out of the way as if he weighed nothing.

“Someone needs to be taught some respect,” Thoridor hissed in my face, as he wrapped his gloved hands around my shoulders and started pushing me into the forest. My mind started racing with all possible scenarios.

“Wait,” I whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh, but you did,” Thoridor countered, “You think I’m despicable.”

I bit my tongue.

“Don’t you?” he pressed.

“I do,” I blabbed, “I think you’re awful.”

A dark smile spread onto Thoridor’s face. “So much fire in such a little body,” he drawled, dragging his eyes up and down my front.

Then he wrapped his gloved hand around my throat. “I wonder if I could snap this little neck with just one hand,” he mumbled, and then leaned in to drag his tongue up the side of my neck, from my collarbone to my jaw.