Ysac navigated the obscure hall, leading us to the enchanted bunker. Our footsteps were muffled, and I peered around us wanting to see something in the dark...but also not. The less I knew about this place, the better.

A harsh energy emanated from the end of the corridor, and I wondered if that was where Arden's lair was. Was it where Mother had been practicing magic for five years, while I believed she was dead?

Ysac knocked on the steel-plated door in a pattern I didn't recognize. Almost at once it whipped open, by magic.

We'd made it two paces into the room when a bundle of bouncing crimson locks jammed into me.

I battled the mess of curls as they shuffled into my mouth. The scarlet-haired beauty wrapped me in a too-tight embrace, the diamonds of her dress pressing hard into every inch of my body.

"Queen Astrida?"

"Oh, Teodric," she said, her timbre laced with gooey gratitude. She smelled like gardenias and fresh grass and I had to admit, it was soothing, if not suffocating. "I worried I'd never see you again! You'd disappeared, and I thought—" She whined. "Oh, I'm so glad you're okay!"

After sealing the door behind us, Ysac stood beside me, arms folded. "Cool, thanks for worrying about me, too."

I tried to worm out of her embrace, and ended up having to crouch to escape her. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm here. Alive, and confused, and upset." I hoped my sharp tone conveyed that I needed air, that I needed time.

Astrida pouted her lips and moved out of the way, allowing me a chance to view the room. The space was bare but for a worn-down love-seat in the rear, a chipped table to the left, and another closed door to the right. We were enclosed by stained stone walls.

"Ysac!" Tilda's fur-lined coat flapped as she popped up from a chair at the far-end of the space, her bob of brown hair frizzy and frayed. "Thank the heavens you're okay. And you, Teodric, oh goodness. What a mess!"

Ysac sent an unfiltered glare full of raw emotion at Astrida as she fawned over me, her hands hovering, not quite touching, her presence overbearing. I caught him snarling, and when he saw me, he fixed his face and fluttered over to Tilda.

I contained a smirk. Was that jealousy? Was he angry with Astrida for her affections towards me?

He huffed as he hugged Tilda, but made the gesture brief. "We bumped into Sym, Ossenna, and Gwenore, upstairs. They sent us here after we raced across the castle to escape—" He paused, eyes narrowed on Tilda, then Astrida. "Are you aware of what's happening out there?" He took the seat the youngest princess had vacated, sprawling out and fanning himself.

"A little," said Astrida, squeezing against me, as if her every heartbeat depended on being attached to me. "When I arrived by flying carriage, Sym and Ossenna were in a panic. They claimed Otho and Arden were missing, and you two were also gone, and they perceived a shift in energy or something. The castle was empty, and it was so cold. Almost colder than in Diamond Valley." She nuzzled into the space between my jaw and shoulder, sniffing at my skin.

Tilda grimaced at her sister and waved at her. "Give him a breather, Astrida." She patted my shoulder and offered a weak smile. "We were hunkered down in the meeting room, and Gwenore...she stepped up to the task at hand. Astrida and I cowered—"

"—hey!" The red-headed beauty snickered at her sibling.

Tilda snorted. "Don't pretend like you weren't." She leaned into me, whispering, "she'll say anything to impress you, but trust me." She raised her voice again. "Anyway, we were cowering, unable to provide any means to help with this situation. Gwenore...she offered her fists, her sword, if she could find one. She has no magic, but she was bold, brave, using herself as a shield to us as she marched behind Sym and Ossenna. It made us rethink...everything."

"Everything?" Ysac blinked at her.

"Gwenore is most deserving of the crown," said Astrida, tipping her chin down. She'd finally moved aside enough to give me some space, but I felt her trembling. Were she anyone else, and not obsessed with me, I'd have reached out and taken her hand. She was evidently shaken by all this, and it couldn't be easy to admit defeat.

"Astrida and I decided to forfeit our claims." Tilda didn't come off as disappointed as her sister, but her shoulders weren't as squared and proud as usual. Compared to the vivacious woman I'd met the day before, here she was demure, more mature than I'd expected from her. "It was the best option in these times. If we're at war, if there are culprits after us, she's the most knowledgeable of us all. And physically, the toughest. She has proper training; we were only trained to walk with books on our heads."

"It was the appropriate thing to do," said Astrida, never removing her bright blue gaze from me.

Her affections flattered me, though they were engulfing. Overwhelming. Had someone like her confessed her lust to me back in Springport, I'd have jumped on the occasion, jumped on her. I couldn't lie; she was tremendously beautiful, and would have made for a fun time in the sheets, I had no doubt.

But I wanted someone else. Needed someone else.

I again pried from her bedazzling claws and approached where Ysac sat.

"I'm glad to hear it." Ysac sighed, scrubbing his face. "But there's so much more to this than you think. We gave Sym and Ossenna the condensed version, and hopefully they will relay it to Gwenore. There's more to this than you know." He tensed as I parked beside him, and he continued addressing the princesses. "Your father...he spoke to no one. He never came to you. It was Otho," he covered his face with his hands, "who fooled you all into thinking the throne was yours. Luned knew, she saw through his disguise...and she allied with him. And then Jack killed King Hendry, and I couldn't talk, I couldn't—"

I hopped off the seat to kneel before him, and cupped his knees, encouraging him to continue. "Let it all out."

Astrida belted out a few unladylike grunts. "Luned is involved in all this? And Jack, too? Was that why he was gone?" She crashed against the wall nearest us, allowing me to see her as she gawked at me. "And you? You're involved?"

"Me?" I shook my head. "Coincidence. My arrival took Jack out of the equation, temporarily. It's a long story." I waved at her, hoping to dismiss her gaze; it grew too heavy.

"Otho." Tilda swore, then in complete opposition to her earlier composure, she spat. "That prick. That explains why he wasn't checking in with me as he was supposed to. He abandoned Hartland, his home...but my citizens told me they'd seen him sneaking about in the jungle. I didn't want to believe it, but it makes sense now."

"Yes." Ysac blanched, staring at my hands as I pressed harder to his knees. "And Teodric is right—he was coincidental, but I might have provoked that. I pushed Jack into another dimension, which brought Teodric here, in his place." The ladies gasped, but Ysac ignored them as he glanced at me, regret and rage and resentment racing through his lavender eyes, aimed at the culprits who'd abused him for years. "Arden was another dimensional traveler in disguise—Teodric's mom—and has returned to her home. Otho tried to punish us, probably kill us, but we—"

"—Ysac saved us," I said, not removing my gaze from his. I was drowning, dropping, disappearing into his soul, away from the dangers, away from our impending death. Feeling his warmth under my palms, remembering the soft skin I'd seen beneath his clothes, my entire body awoke as I crouched before him. So close, so close, and I shouldn't have been. I should have demanded distance between us, time to heal from his lies...but I couldn't stay away.

I heard Tilda fall against the wall. "And Luned, then? She's with Otho? Ew." The disgust in her voice was so tangible, I felt like I'd spoken the words for her. "I mean, I always knew she wasn't right in the head, but...going up against us? The nerve."

Astrida's skirts swished in the background. "It's outrageous. Well...this further confirms our decision, Tilda. I will not deal with all this drama. I'm not suited for it. Our own sister betraying us? It's too much." She sniffled. "I preferred being away from all this nonsense, in my snowy castle. I think..." she let out a lengthy breath, "I think I always knew Gwenore was the rightful heir. Good for her, then. I refuse to govern such an unruly mess of a kingdom!"

"Good luck to her," said Tilda, and I spun to watch her rise and stomp to the other side of the bunker. "She deserves it, but she has her work cut out for her. Astrida," she snapped at her sibling, "Gwenore can take the throne—she's the eldest—but we must stick around to help her."

"Agreed. She's the strong-headed, mature one, always was. But that doesn't mean she won't be crumbled by the weight of her role," added Astrida, who kept her back to me, though her profile revealed a slight snarl. "She's the true queen. She can handle this, but we'll be there for her should she need us."

I heaved up onto the chair, beside Ysac. He weaved his fingers between mine, sucking his lips in as he gazed at his shoes.

It took all my might not to smile through our troubles.

***

Gwenore blasted in thirty minutes later, breathless, cheeks swarming with sweat. "They're gone, as predicted. Likely scurried off to Luned's watery estate, and now protected with her ocean magic." Her lips curled, and she looked ready to spit. "That fiend."

Ysac and I deserted the love-seat at once so she could sit.

But instead she puffed, roared, stomped her feet. "Those traitors! I will have them all hanged—" she sealed her lips and peered at Astrida, then at Tilda. "Well, if I win the vote, that is. If I'm elected queen."

"About that..." Astrida brushed over and curtsied before Gwenore. A surprising sight, and an action that couldn't have been easy with how weighty her gown was. "I retract my claim. This throne isn't mine to take."

Gwenore's eyebrows shot up and locked in place as she stared at her sister. "Huh?"

Tilda also prostrated at her eldest sister's feet. "I agree. You're the monarch, Gwenore. And we were wrong to protest it. Only you can take on this enormous task and all it entails."

Having met these two princesses days ago, it almost seemed too easy. I thought they were conceited, confusing, crown-hogging children; but it turned out they did see reason. My judgment of them had been harsh and impatient.

Gwenore stared at them, wide-eyed, genuine shock prompting her to hop up and wave them up from their curtsies. "Thanks, I guess?" She squinted at them, her lips twitching. "But you're conceding because I can fight, and you can't, right? Because I can stand up to that bitch, and you're both too afraid to do so?"

Before either sister could protest or agree, the door blew open, for what I prayed would be the last time in a long time.

We all swung towards it, stances widened, arms braced for an attack none of us could halt.

In the threshold were Sir Sym and Lady Ossenna, with bruises along their foreheads, gashes in their cheeks, their luxurious threads ripped. They whooshed in and slammed the door behind them.

"Otho is gone. We scoured the castle for him, but he left us a few traps." An up-rush of loathing loaded Sir Sym's timbre. "I imagine he's holed up with Luned and Jack in that dreadful water castle of hers."

Lady Ossenna nearly crawled up to the love-seat and flopped into it. "Once we've recovered from his tricks, we'll enchant the castle, then the city. We can't let them get away with this."

Gwenore cleared her throat. The skeletal, witch-like hermit she'd once resembled had evaporated. Now she was a fearless queen about to take on a responsibility that might get her killed. "By the way, we...uh...we've decided that I will take the crown. Well, my sisters decided for me, but I won't deny the opportunity."

Sir Sym bowed, frowning as he clutched his ailing hip. "Despite our past animosity, this pleases me, Majesty. You are the right woman for the job."

"I agree," said Lady Ossenna, struggling to rise and curtsy. "You were always, in my mind, the one true heir."

Sir Sym readjusted his posture, but grimaced. "But...Arden is gone, and we..." He unfastened his locks and they swept down around his cheeks, fluttered past his chin. "We need a third power to defeat those criminals. The two of us alone, against Otho's array of secret abilities, and Luned's apparent mermaid magic..."

"Ah, but remember, friend; the veil is what gives Arden their power," said Lady Ossenna, limping over, cajoling her elbow. "I doubt Teodric's mother took the fabric with her. We can find a new Arden. It won't be easy, but we have to locate someone willing to take on the task."

To my utter detriment, all eyes—the azures of Astrida, Tilda, and Gwenore, the amber yellows of Sir Sym, and the galactic orbs of Lady Ossenna—landed on Ysac.

No...was he their idea of a perfect candidate? Someone who knew both sides of the story, someone who had private knowledge of the king, someone who owed them? He didn't have magic in him...but then again, neither did Mother.

Of course. It made sense. That would be his punishment; to replace Arden. Lose all ties to the person he once was, and develop powers to confront any who would dare to blackmail him again.

My heart tumbled into my gut, drowning in lakes of hurt. If he became Arden, he would probably have to make some vow of chastity, give up his friends, his family...his lovers.

I made for the door, gritting my teeth to swallow my sobs. "Right, so you don't need me, then. I should go cloister myself in a room somewhere I won't get in the way—"

A soft tug on my sleeve swerved me away from my intent. I whirled around to crash into a sturdy body garbed in shiny black silk and a satin scarlet shirt.

Him. He was stopping me?

"Wait," said Ysac, his flowery scent rippling across my skin, sinking into my pores, yanking my aching heart back to where it belonged. "No." He caressed my arm, my shoulder, making his way up to my cheek. I shuddered as goosebumps lined my flesh, and I flushed at the notion that he might see it, feel it. He turned to Sym and Ossenna. "I can't take on the role of Arden."

I melted. No story I'd ever read mentioned falling so fast for someone. No book in my possession ever clarified how one could spiral into such a whirlwind of emotions and enjoy it.

"Why not?" Sir Sym's voice was stern, but I saw Lady Ossenna smack his arm and mutter something under her breath, prompting him to widen his eyes, watching us. "Oh."

"I can't commit to the role," said Ysac, his gaze back on me, his body somehow closer, pressing into mine.

Oh. There was a bulge down there, rubbing against my thigh, and my mouth watered.

He wanted this. He wanted me.

And I was terrified.

I took a shaky breath. "Because you're...with me?"

His response came in the form of the long-awaited kiss I'd been envisioning for days.

It was everything I'd hoped for, and more. The world faded as our lips met, his smooth and supple and tasting like a tangy fruit. Sounds surrounding us muffled, thoughts paused, the air itself no longer moved. Nothing else mattered; nothing but this jester's fingertips cruising through my hair, his tongue tying with mine, our breaths as one. The pulsating of his cock against my thigh, further proving his desire for me.

We couldn't take things any further here, now; the promise of more to come made my heart flutter, erupt into hard beats that slammed against my rib-cage.

He's mine.

Someone grumbled, someone laughed, someone whispered. I didn't want to let him go, wishing to mold into him for the rest of my life. To feel his lips on mine and his skin on my skin and our souls uniting—

But our moment ended too soon.

Gwenore separated us, eyebrows elevated. "Well, that was a display." As we wiped our mouths, her fists found her svelte waistline. "This is adorable, and yes, I consent to it. But how do we stop my half-mermaid sister, the brute bodyguard knave, and the heartless impostor-mage from annihilating Efura?"

♥♣♦♠