THE ONLY PRINCE [High Fantasy Quest Adventure w/ Fae Romance]

Chapter Twenty One

PRINCE NOADOK'S DRUNKEN grin widens as he pulls me towards himself, closing the remaining space. My left hand instinctually reaches to rest on his shoulder, my right hand in his own.

I have never danced with any of the men in the village. There have always been other things to focus on. As many villagers as there have been, as many travelers as we have gotten, the men have never interested me much.

But I suppose, the Prince is not a man.

My overthinking can only distract me so much, and my gaze that's been resting on the position of my feet finally dares eye contact. My head tilts back to meet his height.

It's a mistake.

I suck in sharply at the sight. The vibrancy of Noadok's iris's have dulled with intoxication, but the impact has not. Bright twinkling lights reflect in the expansion of his dilated pupils, leaving but a rim of blue, dark as night.

And just as I do, his cool breath blows over my face, sending goosebumps over my exposed collar bones and down my arms, making me shiver. I'm nearly convinced that we've already started spinning just staring at him so close. And inhaling his fae wine breath certainly isn't helping my state of mind. The coolness of his fingers gripping my own is the only thing that grounds me. I close my eyes for a moment to steady myself, and I might as well be dancing with one of the statues in our courtyards. His touch is as cold as stone.

There's a brief moment of gentle swaying between us as he lets me grow accustomed to the song. Rich strings are loudly plucked by our experts with nimble fingers. Deep wind pipes blown by strong lungs. Most musicians are from here, some visitors who are wanting to join in and play for the night, but this must be a bore to what the Prince is used to.

And there's just enough boldness in the inhale of his fae wine breath that makes me say it out loud.

"I can't imagine you find much entertainment in our music, living in the Fae Realm, and all."

His chest rumbles with a chuckle.

"Non'ense. Th's is a be'ter sen' off than most get. An' I can te'l they've been tau't by Orion. You' father's a mortal music'an, ya kn'w? Best on' in the Realms t'o. He pla'ed for m' whe' I was litt'e."

He spins us suddenly, and the world blurs. My stomach lurches as we whirl across the dance floor. Then in an instant I'm back, right up against the firmness of his chest, holding my breath so that his exhale doesn't make me any dizzier than I already am.

"He played for you, too?"

The Prince's head tilts to the side lazily as he nods. "He wa' the only on' who coul' put m' to sl'ep."

I remember all of my father's songs. He plays often for our village, still. Calloused hands, rough by years of toil, labor, and war, that prefer to put down an axe and pick up his pan flute.

There hasn't been a later summer night or early winter morning without his melodies somewhere in our village. Around a campfire, by the docks, in a courtyard.

His notes lulled me to sleep better than any cradle when I was a toddler. Wrapping me snuggly in the pelt of the Daenara, my father would play notes as sweet as honey, soft as clouds, until I could drift off. I recall earlier, when our newest addition to the village, newborn Liliana was crying. Prince Noadok must have known Orion would arrive to help aid the babe to sleep.

Orion's always been the best musician I've ever heard. I think being his daughter might make me slightly bias, though.

But Prince Noadok, Highness 'I know everything', agreeing my father is the best in the realms?

To think that the Prince himself had once been serenaded by my father's music, the same as me.

"Oh," I breathe out, a mix of surprise and warmth flooding my chest.

I steal a glance at my father as we twirl by, catching his dark, watchful eyes on me.

Orion's as protective as ever. Arms tightly crossed, before he briefly uncrosses, only to quickly cross them again over his chest. I can almost hear his voice in my head, telling me to be careful. To stay away from the Prince.

"Didn't kn'w if I'd ever get to he'r it again." The Prince's voice is soft, almost wistful.

I swallow deeply, before speaking softly with a surge of fae wine boldness. "Perhaps you'll have to visit our village sometime again then for another feast, Your Highness. After you and my father return from the quest."

I imagine Prince Noadok would smile at my words, maybe even joke back. Perhaps it wouldn't be possible because of his princely duties and he'd have to unfortunately decline my offer. Maybe he'd invite my father and me to come to the fae realm, where my father could play for him in his court.

But the Prince's grip on me tightens, a funny look appearing on his face. There's a sudden decrease to his pupils, the dark midnight blue of his iris's flooding back in at a chilling pace. The drunken haze that once clouded his features evaporates, leaving behind a sharpness that sends a jolt of fear through me.

"Another feast..." The somber change in him is so abrupt, I wonder if I had only imagined the relaxed, jovial Prince from moments before. But just like that, his pupils dilute again, and his drunken haze returns. "I'd lik' th't."

With a quick, smooth movement, the Prince spins me out before pulling me back in. My dress billows out with each spin, reflecting shimmering golden beams of light among the crowd. His sudden switch in behavior feels impossible to mention when we're back to dancing so quickly.

"Orion eve' tea'h you to pl'y?" The Prince asks, and I can't help but feel he's trying to distract from before.

"Of course. I'm not as good as him, though." I admit, feeling a sense of vulnerability creeping into my voice.

"Pract'ce makes pe'fect." The Prince chuckles softly, darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. It's his I know something you don't laugh. "I gue's we'll hav' to see 'f you really 're your father's daught'r."