Crimson Lace

Chapter 2

ALEC
CHAPTER TWO

The beauty Rivara possesses is nearly suffocating. Our black limousines are practically drowning amidst the glittering skyscrapers and verdant walls of bright green foliage. The Northlands look like a lousy blacksmith compared to the enchantress that is Rivara.

We drive over a bulge in the road that jostles the vehicle. I nearly spill my drink as I take another sip. The ice in my glass helps numb my nerves, or maybe it's the scotch that has mastered that trick.

"Do the Northlands have a younger legal drinking age than Dottera?" Josephine asks, eyeing my glass.

My eyes flicker to her, observing the bird pattern of her dress as she sits cross-legged in front of me, staring like one of her eerie pet owls. I am so glad she didn't bring one of those birds into the fine upholstered seats of our limousine. I prefer not to be covered in bird fecal matter and feathers.

"No, I think our legal drinking age is the same." I say, pretending to read the magazine cover next to me. The two of us occupy this limo alone, apart from the chauffeur of course. It wouldn't be smart to have the whole royal family ride in one vehicle. Hell forbid if something were to happen to us along the ride, my kingdom would be left without a ruler. Except for little Posy, but I know that they will never let my sister rule. Not in her "condition," as my father likes to call it. But the way I see it, there is nothing wrong with my baby sister. She can rule just like anyone else, even if she is blind.

The princess's arch shaped eyebrows raise in surprise. "Then you are drinking . . . what do you say in your language? Not allowed?"

"Illegally?" I ask, helping her find the Northlan word that she is trying to describe. Josephine nods. "I suppose I am drinking illegally." Saying it out loud doesn't make it less illegal. But who is going to punish me? The Order Patrol? They wouldn't dare. My father doesn't care much either.

A real man knows how to drink some respect, he always says.

I swirl my glass in my hand, eyeing the way the liquid forms a whirlpool. I can sense her eyes on me, staring with distaste and judgement. I meet her gaze. Josephine's dark copper skin glistens in the light coming from our windows as the sun shines it's dying breath upon us. Her brown eyes sparkle like stars. Out of all the wives my father could have chosen for me, Princess Josephine Augustus is most certainly one of the most breathtaking of brides.

"Underage drinking is a nasty habit, you know?" She pauses, smoothing out the skirt of her lavish black and white gown. "In my kingdom we have this saying about alcohol. A man who hugs the bottle, is a man whose heart has been throttled."

My eyes snap back up to meet hers. I hope she can't see the reality behind those words. I fiddle with the cufflinks of my navy blue suit. When I have no response she takes that as an opportunity to pry.

"Has your heart ever been broken, Tyrus?"

Only once.

I really wish she wouldn't call me by my first name. Call me Alec like everyone else does, I want to say, but I hold my tongue. It's not polite to correct a lady.

"Has it?" she asks again, impatiently. As my mother would always say, a strong woman doesn't wait for a man. Mom would have loved Josephine. I smile at the thought of them becoming friends, teaming up together in a mission to make me a better person. But I am not sure how to answer Josephine's question. My throat contracts as I remember the type of pain that only one kind of weapon could deliver. Love. Love as strong as a knife.