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

Chapter Twenty Three

OF COURSE MY father catches me in time.

There's no doubt. The moment my eyes register his form, I know I will not fall to the ground.

I'm swung to Orion's righthand side, where my right arm naturally loops around his and our arms link as I stumble forward. Then, I can only assume the Prince has pulled my father towards the clearing with Orion's left arm, setting the both of us up for a spin.

I can not find where the Prince has gone as the two of us twirl once, twice, before Orion rearranges his hands, taking over guiding the previous dance from Noadok.

My father's movements are nothing like the Prince's erratic steps. Instead, there's a steady rhythm to his dance that grounds me. His touch is familiar, warm, and safe.

The second we have garnered enough distance, Orion speaks quickly.

"Are you alright? What did he say to you?" His gaze meets mine with concern, a stark contrast to the intoxicated smile that had graced Prince Noadok's features.

"I'm fine... just a little dizzy from all the spinning," I reply, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the Prince's dance. "His breath a bit too, Gods."

Orion's expression darkens at the mention of the Prince's intoxication, a crease forming between his brows. His gaze flickers to where Noadok now stands. The Prince speaks lively, even excitedly, with villager, Isadora, his movements much more exaggerated than before.

"What did he say to you?" My father repeats.

"Not much. Just some nonsense riddles." I answer with a half truth.

The Prince had, in fact, actually said a lot... A lot of nonsense riddles.

Orion sighs under his breath, an edge to his tone. "It wouldn't suffice The Only Prince to be known for his simplicity."

The Only Prince. 

It's Noadok's epithet. 

It's how he's referred to in the prophecy but... what does that even mean? 

Adorned in snow, the pelt of prides,

The stolen child, where tamer of the swift resides

An eater of apples shining of gold,

The Only Prince must find the one not told 

Surely there are other princes in the Fae Realm? My own father is a prince.

Before I can ask, Orion speaks again. "We should probably start cleaning up soon," His gaze drifts towards the scattered decorations and empty goblets littering the clearing. "And we have to prepare for the village meeting tomorrow. We'll be missing a jeweler for some time, our best bet right now is to hope we can talk one of the visitors into staying. Until then it'll be difficult to pawn anything worth more than a couple gold coins."

His talk of tomorrow clenches something tight within my stomach. My father doesn't know he's leaving yet. When will the Prince tell him? What will the Prince tell him?

What could convince my father to leave our village? To leave me?

How much time is still left?

Judging by the moons position, just hours. It's long past midnight, but not yet creeping on dawn.

How do I say goodbye?

I feel my throat restrict at the thought.

"I'll speak to the blacksmith as well to see if she has anything in stock that we can trade in place of the missing jeweler," Orion continues, his voice taking on a more business-like tone as he begins to plan for the village meeting.

His words pull me back from my spiraling thoughts about his departure, the prophecy, and the Only Prince. I nod in agreement, trying to focus on the practical matters at hand. As if any of this will matter when he'll be hunting Shivnook with the Prince.

"Liliana too. Poor kid," My father takes a deep breath before looking up to the stars. "She'll need someone to play for her tonight. I might need your help."

"Of course." I answer with a forced smile. But I know the truth. My father will be leaving with the Prince.

"You seem distracted," Orion says softly, his hand gently squeezing mine. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I force the lump in my throat down. "Yes. Just tired. It's been a long day."

He nods, understanding in his eyes. "We'll take care of the mess quick. Just a few more songs to close out the feast and send the drunks home."

Then he suddenly offers, "You should use my pan flute. For Liliana, I mean."

I blink, surprised by the offer.

My father's pan flute is as prized a possession to him as his pelt. It has been a rarity throughout my life to have touched it, let alone played it. I can count on one hand the times, all on either birthdays, or Storm Rites. Seven pipes, arranged from short to long. All tied together with thin strips of worn leather. I can almost feel the cool of the wood against my fingertips, how the pipes always seem to hum before a note is even played. The offer catches me off guard, and for just a moment, I forget about the impending departure and the Prince's riddles.

"Really?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Orion nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You've grown into quite the musician. It's a shame you aren't with them playing right now. And I think Liliana would appreciate hearing you."

I want to tell him everything - about the Prince's plans, about the prophecy, about how scared I am to lose him. I want to hug my father. Cry on his shoulder. Wish him goodbye. Hold back my begging for him to stay. But I can't bring myself to break this precious moment.

Instead, I simply nod and whisper, "Thank you."

He pulls me in tight, before we continue our dance, moving across the clearing. The music seems to fade into the background, replaced by the distant howl of growing wind. I steal a glance towards where Noadok converses with Isadora.

The hardened weapons trader seems unusually pleasant faced. I've never known a smile so wide to have ever graced her features. Circe always jokes the woman was born from scowls and grimaces, but not a day of anger shows now.

"He's getting along well enough with the people." I try.

Orion's grip tightens briefly around my waist as he follows my gaze to where Noadok stands, eyes narrowing. "Yes, the Only Prince certainly has a way with words."

There is it again. 

The Only Prince.