Beautiful Torture *Book Two of the Beautiful series*

5) Caspian the Great

Lucy flared at his words, rolling her shoulders and brushing a lock of long hair that clung to the side of her neck. "You do realize I survived a whole eighteen summers before meeting either of you, right? I think I can cross a square and climb a flight of stairs without falling to mortal peril."

Hunter eyed her with an insulting amount of skepticism, but his gaze kept pulling back toward the three maidens and he looked torn. "Hmpf. Why not? You and Alexander get to have all the fun. It is my turn. You sure you will be alright?" He took another long drink from the blue liquid in his cup. It stained his bow-shaped lips in an almost comical way. Lucy reached up, wiping the bit that ran off his lower lip. He froze under her touch, his eyes churning with some unnamed emotion.

"I promise I will be fine. Go enjoy yourself."

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Lucy pushed by the rambunctious crowd towards the tavern inn, all the while stuck in her own thoughts that drifted to several different subjects from the night. Firstly, she fixated on Alexander's mention of a superior queen taking Mary's spot. She had been too embarrassed to ask if he meant her...or if it was possible he had someone more worthy in mind. The thought was followed by Hunter's declaration that the king was hiding something. Was he really? And did it have to do with that statement? An intense pain radiated out from the spot just beneath her sternum. Her heart shattered at the mere idea of him with another woman at his side.

She shook her head, sighing. She was the daughter of a god for goodness sake. There would be no crumbling into a mess of tears and snot over something that had not even happened.

A serving woman brushed by her, carrying trays of roasted meat on skewers and baked Bannocks. She smiled kindly as she passed and offered a stick in exchange for three coppers. Lucy gave a weak smile in return, but shook her head. Her stomach still did not feel right. She did not think it wise to try to eat again. The servant nodded and continued forth into the waiting customers.

The inn was only yards away. Moving forward, she passed a dark alley and felt a ridged chill sweep over her shoulders. A crumpled form sat huddled at the alleys mouth, adorned in a filthy brown cloak. The old woman's pointy, crooked nose and gray hair stuck out from her hood as she muttered something manic and indecipherable. A pulling in Lucy's gut split her feelings in half. Part of her wanted to quickly get to the inn door, but a much more insistent part urged her to check on the poor, frail woman.

"A-are you alright?" She asked, inching closer to the woman who continued to rock back and forth, muttering as though she had not heard.

Lucy moved closer still, her trembling hand reaching towards the woman's shoulder, ready to tap her. The heart within her chest thundered so loud she could scarcely hear the ranting words. Before she knew what was happening, the old woman shot up, hood falling back and her bent, gnarled fingers captured Lucy's outstretched wrist. The woman's eyes were cloudy white and glowing slightly. Her sallow skin wrinkled with age and her blackened teeth glinted behind her sinister smile.

Lucy gasped and tried to jerk away, but the hold was like iron, cold and unrelenting. The jaw of her withered face fell open and a weeping green mist leaked out. "I taste..." she croaked in a broken voice, as though she had not spoken in ages. "I taste the blood of a god." Her tongue flicked out, licking hungrily across her cracked lower lip. "I smell...I smell the skin of a dragon."

Lucy stumbled, trying to lean back with all the weight and strength she possessed, but the old woman did not budge. A lump of horror blocked the back of her throat, clogging her scream of terror. "I feel a prince." Her other hand moved towards Lucy's belly. "A prince that grows within you. Caspian the Great, son of the God Slayer, Alexander the Unmoveable, who's prowess will blot out the sun in its unhindered form...be warned child," she sputtered, coughing, and her jagged nails bit into the soft flesh of Lucy's wrist. " The king...However bright your love shines for him, however gold he gleams, do not forget his fire, for it burns hotter than both."