Playing with Fire ( Redemption Saga Story)

Chapter 3

After the Prince is out of sight, I take a moment to breathe.

The fawn continues to hold onto me, she's crying again.

I pat the top of her head. "You're going to be okay, kid. What's your name?" I ask her.

"Elsie," the fawn whimpers.

"What a pretty name, Elsie," I say in a kindly voice. I don't know how I'm doing it after what just went down.

"Are you really going to kiss the Prince for saving me?" Elsie asks, her large dark brown eyes staring up at me.

"I don't know," I say, I hope not.

"I don't like them, the Cursed, or anyone else in power really," Elsie says, and sniffles back tears.

"Me either," I tell her. My fingers feel as if they are going to fall off. I rub my hands together and the sensation is almost painful. "But the Prince was right about one thing. It's cold out here and we should get inside before we freeze."

I take her hand and detach her enough from me so we can begin trudging through the drifts toward Uncle Maurice's.

"Come on, let's get you to my cabin," I say, "I share it with my Uncle. He's not a bad guy. He wouldn't hurt anyone. You may not believe me, but he raised me right."

"I'm so scared," Elsie says, she's shaking, but I don't think it's from the cold. "What will happen when Grogan tells my herd that I refused to go with him?"

"What do you mean?" I ask her.

"He said he'd duel my father if he didn't keep up his end of the grazing grounds agreement, and Grogan is much stronger than my father," Elsie explains, "Last summer, Grogan had the best fields. I--I didn't want to be his wife, but Grogan got a pick out of all the unmated does in my father's herd who were of--of age."

Ugh, this story is unfortunately not uncommon. There is no one to protect the weak in Hyland. Trying to protect the weak only makes you weak. And now I've made a deal with a Cursed Prince in exchange for helping someone who feels guilty about being helped.

Oh, the irony of life.

"Elsie, do you want to go back to Grogan in order to save your father from dueling?" I ask stonily. We approach the cabin and the warm light burning inside is a declaration akin to finding treasure for two cold souls in this freezing storm.

"No!" Elsie cries. "I never want to see Grogan or my father again! I can't believe he didn't want to save me."

"Your father should have protected you. That's what fathers are for. And all our actions lead to consequences, so now he's just going to have to face them, and we shouldn't require others to pay for them. And who knows? Maybe he'll beat Grogan," I say.

"The Cursed Prince is right, you're stupid, that's not how life works." Elsie sobs.

"Hey!" I say, not taking offense because she's a thirteen-year-old who has just been traumatized, but I give her a stiff shove because giving her a normal shove would crack the frozen blood in my veins. "Don't worry, kid. I know how to handle myself."

"But you basically traded my problems for some of your own," Elsie says. She's a bright teenager, if not a bit annoying.

"That Cursed Prince will get what he wants from me and then I'm sure he'll be on his way," I assure her, "With you, it would be a life of servitude to that nasty old buck. For me, it's a simple peck on the lips. No harm there. I'll just make-believe I'm kissing a tree."

To that comment Elsie giggles.

I won't let on to her that wonder what it means for Prince Raoul. Does he expect me to do more than kiss him? Does he expect me to do what Grogan suggested?

I shiver as I try to recollect what Prince Raoul's human form looks like. His hair is black and his skin pale white, like the coloration of his Cursed form. He'd been wearing a smart black coat with gold trim and dark brown fur. He wasn't tall, he was kind of short for a Cursed, a few inches taller than me maybe, but then, I'd seen him from a distance while he and his father had announced how they'd dethroned Willem and expected our immediate fealty.

I assume his human form is the one I'm kissing him in.

At least I hope it is.

My stomach twists in a knot and I fear I'll vomit if I keep thinking about the cruel Prince Raoul and my promise to him.

The Cursed King had taken my father to fight for him in his army the day after we'd gathered in the city center. That was the last time I'd seen my father and I'd been only eight years old.

Calder, my brother, was too young to fight at that time. They didn't come for him until last year.

How I'd begged them not to take him... and how the soldier in charge of recruitment had beaten me for defying the Cursed King's ruling.

My free hand fists into a ball at my side, cracking my frost-bitten skin painfully as I do so. The Cursed need to be stopped, but there is no way of killing them. No way of penetrating their defenses.

Perhaps the world will end with the Cursed killing everyone off in their wars until they are the only beings left in Axus.

I open the door of the cabin and walk with Elsie inside. Uncle Maurice limps in his usual way out of the kitchen to greet me. His withered brow furrows when he sees Elsie with her hand in mine. "Who is this?"

"Elsie," I say without explaining anymore. I let go of her hand. "Go on, warm yourself by the fire. Uncle Maurice is a fine cook. Every summer we keep a vegetable garden, so we have a lot of preserves that keep us through the winter."

Elsie gazes up at me wide-eyed. "A vegetable garden?" She licks her lips at the thought. "Did you grow beets?"

"Of course," Uncle Maurice says, his eyes crinkling at the corners warmly as he smiles. "I have some cooking over the fire right now."

Elsie removes the ragged fur coat she wears, and I notice just how skinny she is for the first time. She sniffs the air and frolics into the kitchen.

"I'm sure there's a story involved with this," Uncle Maurice says, folding his arms over his chest and setting his withered lips in a grim line. "Because you know we don't have much food leftover."

"I'll buy us more," I say to him with a shrug.

"With what money?" Uncle Maurice asks, his brow creases in not judgment, but sympathy for my statement of denial. "How about that story first, love? What happened?"

"I saved her from a horrible marriage arrangement," I rush out the words and cough, I'm breathing in warm air too quickly. After I finish coughing, I continue, "We're giving her shelter at least until winter is over and—and that's the end of it, Uncle."

"Oh, holy goddess, she's a child," Uncle Maurice murmurs, his gaze turning to the door of the kitchen.

"Indeed," I say, and I stomp the snow off my boots at the door before removing them.

"How did you get her out of that situation? You're no weakling, but Stogs can be quite dangerous, even if they are unarmed." Uncle Maurice is suspicious. I don't know if I want to tell him the whole story and risk his worrying about me or make something up to settle his fears.

"Aye, they can be," I say with a nod. "But I had an axe."

"That old axe can barely cut through a stump," Uncle Maurice says, crooking a shaggy eyebrow at me skeptically. He's not dropping it.

"Look, I saved her from being raped and abused by a nasty buck, it doesn't matter how I did it, just that I did it." I take the shawl off and wince as part of it is frozen to my long white-blonde hair. I got my hair from my northern-blood father.

"Well, maybe this is just what we need, I see no reason why we can't have an extra hand around, it's been very difficult to keep up things without Calder," Uncle Maurice says, and then he looks at me with a vague smile. "You are too good for this world, Yana."

"I know," I reply dryly, but I don't feel as if I'm good. I'm angry. I want revenge.