I slung my arm around her back and hoisted her up, bringing her a little too close. The smell of coffee and vanilla clung to her hair. It activated sensations inside me that heated my blood. Cerri paid me no mind, though. Her attention remained on the window with a hole through it.
Cerri kept one hand carefully pressed to my chest while she raised the other. The warmth of the summer sun radiated across my skin, teleporting me back home through memories long buried. I lifted my face and welcomed the heat of the Seelie Court while my heart clenched tight with a new kind of longing.
“There. Now they’re going to have to come inside if they want to take another shot.” Cerri shoved away from my grasp.
I snapped back to the present. A wall of thick greenery covered the window. It completely obscured visuals. There was no looking in or out now. I scowled down at Cerri.
“How am I supposed to see who’s targeting you now?” I turned to head towards the window.
Cerri caught me by my sleeve and pulled me back. “Let them come inside to us. Until then, let’s drink.”
The princess ordered another round for the both of us. We reclaimed our stools, but I kept glancing over my shoulder. The assassin never came inside, though. Whoever they were, they preferred long range.
I was starting to get an idea of who Beryl might have hired. If I was right, then we were in for a world of trouble. At least, the assassin gave us a bit of space for now.
8
CERRI
Ididn’t tell Rhoan that I’d sent my arcana rushing along the ground outside. With it, I’d found a pair of feet touching the earth. I conjured great vines to climb up the person’s legs and wrap them in place so they couldn’t do the annoying step-between thing that Rhoan did to disappear on me. Whoever they were, assassin or otherwise, they would be preoccupied for a while.
See? I could take care of myself on my own. I didn’t need a drunk fae warrior to look out for me. Never mind the fact that he’d saved my ass by pushing me off my stool. He could have done anything else, though. He shouldn’t have knocked the air out of my chest.
Together, we drank ourselves into oblivion at the bar. I had a bit too much tequila, stood, and walked myself to the bathroom where I could throw up in privacy. On one hand, I was proud of my ability to hide my drunken sickness. On the other hand, that was twice in one day that I’d thrown up.
My stomach ached from heaving. I leaned back against the stall wall and looked towards the ceiling like there might be a conveniently placed assassin waiting for me. There was nothing, though.
Still, the fear brought my arcana curling out of me. It spread through the bathroom. Little vines poked out from the drop ceiling panels. Tiny bell flowers unfurled overhead. I grimaced and went to clean my face and wash my mouth before I created a garden inside this little bathroom.
How had I lived my whole life without unlocking this arcana? I’d tapped into it when I started potion brewing, but it’d never felt as powerful as it did now. Something about meeting Beryl had triggered an awakening inside me. It was as if my arcana acted on its own to protect me.
Or like it’d been locked behind the closed doors in my mind. My memories and arcana had been trapped in the same place. If I tapped into more of my childhood, there was a chance I’d be able to access more of my arcana.
I swallowed hard. There was more of this power? Staring at my open palms, I marveled at the capabilities waiting, dormant inside me. Was this mine? Did I even deserve it if I wasn’t going to use it to save the court that Beryl oppressed?
Why was that even my job?
There was a knock at the door. I opened my mouth to tell the person that the stall was free.
“Princess?” Rhoan asked on the other side.
I scowled. The name was sweet. Had it been said by any other man, I would have melted a little. Rhoan wasn’t trying to be kind or gentle or loving. I doubted he was even capable of such things. The man had taken a vow to war. He was a weapon, and he probably enjoyed it.
Just another reason why we would never get along. I didn’t want to fight. It was the very last thing on my list. In fact, it went on theI’d be happy if I never had to think about this againlist.
I sat silent for a long moment. On the other side of the door, Rhoan grumbled to himself. He wondered out loud if I’d passed out on the toilet or if I’d crawled out the window to escape him. I heard the soft thump of him falling back against the wall outside.
Curiosity brought me closer to the door so I could listen as he talked to himself.
“I wouldn’t blame her,” he muttered. “The court always said I brought the mood down. I doubt that’s gotten better since then. Woman is tired of fighting for her life, and here I am, probably making things worse.”
Still emboldened by the alcohol in my veins, I whipped the door open. “How could you possibly make things worse?”
Rhoan rushed forward. I didn’t even realize I was falling backwards until he caught me and pulled me back into his arms.
“You’re in no shape to escape,” he said with a shake of his head. “Can’t handle your liquor, can you? I never should have let you drink so much.”
“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” I shoved away from him and lifted my head high. “I’m theprincess. Shouldn’t you be listening to me?”