“Normally, the penalty for your actions would be death,” Queen Tana said, and Nero swallowed hard. He was sure everyone in the room could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. “However, taking into account your age and ignorance, I believe that punishment would be too steep. You’ve already been lashed, so your final penalty will be servitude. You will remain in Ombra until I choose to release you, and Prince Willowbrook will be in charge of you.”
A faerie off to the side went tense before he stepped forward.
He was tall and lean, with the same pale lavender skin as Tana, but with the blue eyes and jet-black hair of her husband. He didn’t wear the beetle armor like most of the men. In fact, if Tana hadn’t called him a prince, Nero might have mistaken him for a woman. His hair was long and straight, and he wore loose silky robes made of large blue flower petals, woven together and embellished with Nephila’s golden thread. His clothing and jewelry were adorned with tiny gems, as well.
He didn’t look at Nero at, and he didn’t look happy about what Tana had just said.
“I didn’t agree to this,” he told her. “What makes you think I want to be responsible for a Human life?”
“Consider him a birthday gift,” she said calmly, and her husband stepped forward too.
“You wouldn’t disrespect your mother and Queen by refusing such a generous gift, would you?”
Prince Willowbrook scowled at his father, then turned on his heel and stormed past Nero.
“Let’s go,” he hissed, grabbing Nero roughly by the arm.
Nero didn’t protest, nor did he complain that Willowbrook was hurting him. He was in enough trouble as it was—he didn’t dare say or do anything that might make it worse. He knew he was lucky to even be alive.
Willowbrook lived apart from the fearies in his own little home, nestled between mushrooms and flowers. The roof was overgrown and covered with dandelions, and honeybees buzzed quietly around the flowers, unbothered by their presence.
When they got inside, Willowbrook pushed Nero aside and went upstairs without a word. Nero stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs while he rubbed his arm where Willowbrook had grabbed him.
Past the staircase, the room opened up into a sitting area with chairs and a heart. Beyond that, there was a kitchen with wooden pots hanging between drying herbs over a clay stove. The whole house seemed quaint and warm and inviting, a stark contrast to Willowbrook’s cold demeanor.
When he came back downstairs, Willowbrook looked completely different. He definitely didn’t look like a Faerie prince. He wore simple clothes made from brown leaves, and he had his hair tied back in a messy bun. He stopped in front of Nero, looking over him with disdain.
“Give me your name,” he demanded, holding out his hand to Nero.
Nero hesitated, trying to recall any knowledge he might have about Faeries. He had to choose his words carefully, otherwise he’d lose his chance of every escaping Ombra.
“I can’t give you my name,” he said quietly, lowering his gaze as he backed away from Willowbrook’s outstretched hand, “but you can call me Nero.”
Willowbrook lowered his hand and laughed softly.
“I see you’ve done your research, little Human. Those little tricks can only get you so far though. You’re already a prisoner of Ombra, and Queen Tana has made me responsible for you. So, I own you, whether you give me your name or not.”
“What should I call you?” Nero questioned. He looked around the home curiously. “This doesn’t seem like a place you’d want to be called ‘Prince Willowbrook,’ does it?”
“Quiet!” Willowbrook struck Nero with the back of his hand so hard that Nero fell against the staircase. He stood over him, fists clenched, and the rage radiating from him like flames. “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about! Learn your place, Human!”
Nero knew he was right. He was in Ombra, and he wasn’t Prince of Anzino anymore. He couldn’t say whatever he wanted. He should be more careful with his words, and try not to offend anyone, especially the son of the Queen. Offending a Faerie could be a matter of life or death.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He avoided eye contact and clutched his red cheek. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Prince Willowbrook.”
Willowbrook sighed and moved past Nero, into the kitchen area. Nero sat on the stairs and didn’t move from that spot, listening to him moving around. Soon, the home was filled with warm air and the scent of a fire from the stove.
Nero leaned over to see what he was doing. He placed a small clay pot on the stove, and filled it with water by wringing out lavender petals, filling the room with their sweet aroma. When all the water was out, he hung them to dry with the other herbs above the stove. He added a bit of honey that he kept in a jar on a shelf, looking very content while he stirred it together. He didn’t look like a prince, just a regular person enjoying something small.
Nero’s stomach started to growl, and he sat back on the stairs. He clutched his stomach and sighed. The apples he’d eat from the Faeries’ tree were all he’d eaten in the last couple of days. He felt hungry and a bit faint. He hoped that Willowbrook couldn’t hear his stomach growling.
“Nero,” he called out. “Come here.”
Nero obliged, not wanting to anger him again. He approached him with caution, glancing into the pot on the stove. It smelled sweet, and he poured it into a cup and handed it to him.
“Drink.”
“Prince Willowbrook?”
“Don’t call me that.” He scowled, turning back to the stove. “Just call me Willow.”
Nero hesitated, clutching the warm cup in his hands. It smelled good, but what was he up to?
“I’m not trying to poison you,” Willowbrook said, as though he could tell what Nero was thinking. “I’ve been experimenting with different plants and ingredients. When I was younger, I ran away from here, and I was captured by a Human. He was afraid of what other Humans might do to me, so he kept me secret, but I learned a lot about them that way. He used to make different kinds of tea, which Humans make by boiling dried leaves in water, and would add things to it like sugar. Most of the things Humans use are hard for Faeries to get, and leaves are too big to boil here. So, I just wring the water out of the plants instead. The bees always share a bit of honey with me, too. So, when I have time—”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Nero couldn’t help but stare while he ranted on. He looked happy, and his voice was full of passion. It was strangely endearing, despite the fact that Nero was basically his prisoner.
“Nero?” Willowbrook’s voice pulled him out of his own thoughts. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to taste it?”
“Oh. Sorry.” Nero took a sip, and it filled him with warmth. It was smooth and sweet on his tongue. “This is really good!”
“Really?” Willowbrook smiled then. It was a big, genuine smile.
“Really.” Nero took another sip. “Do you do this often?”
“No.” His smile vanished as quickly as it had come, and Nero immediately felt guilty. He had looked so happy, and now he looked upset. “My mother doesn’t approve of my fascination with Humans. She says I should count myself lucky that I wasn’t killed or sold to another Human. Since then, I just keep to myself. I don’t talk to her about any of this, and when I’m in the Court, I act like everyone else. I pretend to hate and distrust Humans. I think that’s why she put me in charge of you. She’s either testing to see if I really do hate Humans, or she knows I don't, and she’s trying to show you mercy the best way she can think of. Anyone else in this kingdom would use you as a slave and abuse you. I’ve heard some Faeries say despicable things about what they’d do with a Human. They should all be ashamed of themselves, my father included. I saw him attack you. He’s always been that way.”
Nero kept quiet, drinking his tea while Willowbrook spoke. But after a few sips, he felt a sharp pain through his torso. His head was spinning, and he dropped the cup on the floor as he doubled over and clutched his aching stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Willowbrook asked, looking over him with concern.
“I feel faint,” he said, wiping some sweat from his forehead. What was the matter with him? “Maybe because I haven’t eaten much, or maybe it’s—”
Nero was cut off as he suddenly vomited.
“Maybe it’s the lavender,” Willowbrook said, helping Nero over to a chair. “I know humans use it in small amounts for medicine, but maybe it’s toxic in larger amounts. I should have taken into account that you’re Human, and you’re much smaller than me. I should have—”
Nero didn’t hear anything he was saying, and the next thing he knew, he found himself laying in a bed, staring up at the ceiling. What happened? Where was he? Had it all been a bad dream?
“I said I wasn’t trying to poison you,” he said. He was sitting in a chair beside the bed. “And then I went and poisoned you.”
“What happened?” Nero couldn’t make his body move. He felt so drained, and just trying to move took away what very little energy he had. His voice was low and groggy, and it took everything he had not to just fall back asleep.
“The drink I made knocked you out. I thought you might die. You stopped breathing a couple of times, actually. You’ve been asleep for days.”
It took a few more days for Nero to feel well enough to get up. He was in Willowbrook’s bedroom. It was spacious and colorful, and he had many items around the room that he must have collected from somewhere outside of Ombra—he had Human objects that must have seemed very strange or intriguing to a Faerie. Coins, cufflinks, buttons…
“You collect things that Humans lose?” Nero questioned, looking around the room. Willowbrook was sitting in his chair beside the bed, just like he had all week, watching over Nero. “Most of these are things that most Humans wouldn’t even care about losing.”
“Really?” Willowbrook looked a bit disappointed. “What are they?”
“Well…” Nero looked around the room, then pointed at an emerald that was set in stone and stuck into the wall. “That was probably an earring. Most Faeries wear jewelry too, right?”
“We do,” he said, touching his own earring. “We make it from little bits of gems we find in the ground. I didn’t know Humans wore them too.”
“That’s a thread spool,” Nero told him, pointing at a wooden item Willowbrook was using as a bedside table. “Spiderwebs would never been strong enough to hold Human clothes together. We make threads from things like wool and cotton, and store it by wrapping it around those.”
“Oh, well.” He shrugged. “At least I found another use for it. What about that?”
Nero tilted his head curiously, trying to figure out what he was pointing at. It was large and black, with a strange, rounded shape. It was so shiny that Nero could see his reflection, and there wasn’t even a hint of a scratch on it.
“I think that might be a Dragon scale.”
“What’s a Dragon?”
Nero rubbed his chin. How could he explain Dragons to a Faerie?
“Have you ever seen a lizard?” he asked, and Willowbrook nodded. “They’re kind of like that, I guess. But they’re huge. Most of them are bigger than Human houses. Large, scaled creatures capable of using magic and breathing fire. They have enormous wings that carry them through the sky. There’s a kingdom of them, far to the northwest. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard it’s a beautiful place.”
“Have you ever seen a Dragon?”
“No.” Nero shook his head. “Well, I met one, once, but she had taken on a Human form.”
“I’m not sure I believe any of that,” Willowbrook said. “It sounds quite fantastical.”
“I suppose it does.” Nero laughed softly. “Well, if I ever get out of Ombra, maybe I could take you to Draconia someday.”
“Is that the Dragons’ kingdom?” Willowbrook’s face lit up when Nero nodded, but his excitement and his smile were gone as quickly as they came. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m the Crown Prince of Ombra. I have duties to my kingdom and my people. My love for Humans and the outside world have only ever caused trouble for my family. So, I can’t leave.”
“The Crown Prince…” Nero sighed and looked out the window. Despite their rough relationship, he hoped that Daemon was all right.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just thinking about my brother,” he said quietly. “The Crown Prince of Anzino.”
“You’re a prince too?” Willowbrook’s eyes went wide.
“I was, but I left. I can’t go back.”
“Why not? Were you banished?”
“No… it’s complicated. My family and I never really saw eye to eye on a lot of things. I would never be able to live the life I wanted there. So, I left.”
“Anzino is full of mages, isn’t it? I once heard that the Royal Family is all mages. Blood-born mages are a rare occurrence these days, but I was told that the Arnaldo Family is very strict about being pureblood Sorcerers.”
“It was, until I was born,” Nero said, and Willowbrook looked confused.
“You can’t do magic?”
“Nope.” Nero sighed, shaking his head. “My twin brother Daemon inherited all the power. I only know techniques to dispel and divert magic.”
“That’s an even rarer talent than being a Sorcerer,” Willowbrook said, looking over Nero curiously. “Where did you learn something like that?”
“The Keeper of Knowledge taught me many things before he died.”
Willowbrook didn’t ask anymore questions, and Nero sighed again. Was Faeryn’s death his fault? If he had never gone to the library, would Faeryn still be living a quiet life in Anzino Castle? His death weighed heavy on Nero, and he wasn’t sure how to properly deal with his feelings, so he just kept quiet about it.
“You shouldn’t get close to me,” he told Willowbrook. “I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.”
Willowbrook laughed softly, but Nero didn’t think it was funny. He wasn’t joking. He’d caused a lot of trouble, both for himself and for many other people. If he had just kept to himself and done what he was told, he wouldn’t be in the giant mess he was currently in. Faeryn was executed by getting involved with him… what might happen to Willowbrook if he got closer to him?
“I’m the Crown Prince of the Moonlight Faeries,” Willowbrook said, a hint of a smirk on his face. “I think I can handle myself.”