An hour after she left us to our own devices—mainly roaming about the eerie castle halls and ignoring the chills crawling up my arms at the gloomy atmosphere—Queen Gwenore summoned us to her throne-room.

She'd made up her mind. She was going home.

"I will join you for part of the journey back to Acewood, tomorrow," she said, while guiding us to her dining room where she stated we'd have dinner and discuss terms. "But I'm sure you have other queens to visit, and I won't be accompanying you for that."

Along with supper, she offered us lodging for the night. Her castle's comforts were...different from Diamond Castle. Not lesser, but without the abundance of glittering gems and the servants scuffling about, it felt less luxurious. Not to mention the negative aura about the whole place, either cloaked in darkness or illuminated by brassy sconces that sent sinister shadows to dance across the cracked walls.

We dined at a lengthy, black-wood table, with tall ebony candles in iron holders as the only decoration. There were no paintings or frescoes on any of the walls, no statues, no vegetation in sight. Each room had high ceilings and was majestic, yes; but so incredibly depressing.

The food was much more accommodating than the space. We ate clubs—which tasted as heavenly as Ysac had claimed—drenched in a spicy sauce that made my lips pucker and prickle. Ysac laughed at me when I took my first bite and hissed; and I laughed at him when his face turned red as a tomato. We also had fried buffalo, crisp greens, and a syrupy cream for dessert. Every morsel was succulent and left a sweetness on my tongue that made me tingle on the inside.

Gwenore, at the head of the table, sneered at Ysac between bites, and sometimes stared at me. She swished the burgundy liquid in her black goblet, and as she nibbled at her meal, she asked me questions; pressing queries about me, my home, my origins. Most of the questions I didn't know how to answer. "What is the preferred mode of transportation where you come from?" or "what is your most grown crop?" were the ones that stumped me most.

While Ysac and I had agreed earlier that we'd lie about where I was from, we hadn't created a detailed backstory for me. So anytime I attempted to reply, Ysac nudged me under the table, warning me to be wary. And every time he touched me, I froze—not because of the touch, but because of where it occurred. Always on my thigh, always high up, and always sending shockwaves through me that made me happy the table would conceal the hard issue developing between my legs.

Any contact with him—even something as brief and impersonal as an elbow jutting into me—woke up sensations I didn't understand.

Gwenore, unaware of our under-the-table situation, fixated me and chewed, her somber lips pressing together. But there was nothing seductive about the motion, like it was with Astrida. Gwenore carried little emotion in her icy eyes, and even less enthusiasm in her voice.

At least she didn't have a crush on me, like Astrida. The less animation my heart and cock went through right now, the better.

"I told you; she's reserved. She isn't used to having visitors, so when she does, she gets...curious. Prodding," said Ysac, as we guided ourselves down the open corridors of Club Castle. The middle of the building was a courtyard of half-dead plants and rock fountains spouting weak wisps of water. Its cobbled ground was uneven and unpleasant to walk on. The last remnants of sunlight shimmered over the tiny pools of liquid and shined over minuscule gems in the stone.

"I never said I didn't believe you, but...she was hostile." My words made me shudder. Though she'd slightly relaxed her demeanor, Gwenore still had a sense of distrust about her, a solid facade of negativity showering her in a grim glow. She was beautiful, but in a witchy, eccentric way. Like a smoldering sorceress hiding snakes under her sleeves. An exotic enchantress reserving judgment before she drizzled poison into the wine.

We passed under arches so cracked I worried they'd collapse over us, and headed up a spiraling staircase I wasn't sure could hold us both as it rattled with our every step. Was this where Sir Sym, the elegant Ace of Club Fields, had once lived? Or had his magic deprivation sent the building into disrepair, like the dying meadows surrounding the region?

Our rooms were on the third floor. They were identical adjoining chambers with little else aside from a twin-sized bed, fur-lined blankets, a somewhat sturdy dresser, a stained mirror—and no windows.

"She isn't hostile. At least...not on purpose. We were once friends, she and I, believe it or not. But she cursed my name the day I started working with the Aces." He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning against the wall near his door. "Look, I can't imagine this situation pleases her. Having to return to the place she despises to stake her claim, fight for her right to rule? I do think she's entitled to it...but her sisters won't play nice, they never have."

I hadn't met the other princesses yet, but I had no doubt Astrida would bare her teeth and claws to get the throne. "I can absolutely see that happening."

Ysac patted me on the shoulder, his fingers resting there a few extra moments as we established eye-contact. It was dark, but still, his iris-imbued gaze melted me to the core. His touch was warm, unlike the jabbing nudges from earlier.

Something spilled inside my gut, heating me up, and my lips parted gradually as I felt a flutter in my heart...

He removed his hand and set it to his torso, issuing me a bow. "Good night, Prince Teodric." His voice was soft, cushioned. "Oh, and no rude awakenings tomorrow, I promise." He winked, then sauntered into his quarters, sealing the door behind him.

When I fell onto my hard mattress, I cringed. I felt dirty—and not just from wearing the same clothes several days in a row. I was deranged, distraught. Never had I been so confused, not only because I was stuck in a distant realm that I had no idea how to escape, but also...because of my emotions. Out of control, new emotions that I didn't recognize, towards a sex I never thought I was attracted to. These emotions developed in me without my approval, and I wasn't certain what to think of them, nor how to make them stop.

Never had I felt such physical sensations towards a man.

And by physical, I meant sexual. I'd been stirred by that tingling in my gut, the pulsating of my cock whenever a beautiful woman walked by, smiled at me, talked to me. And I'd fucked my fair share of delicious serving girls who shared my bed and did things most women of their eighteen, nineteen, twenty years of age shouldn't have known how to do. My craving for lovely ladies with necklines that made me salivate, I was used to. But a yearning for a man...that was foreign territory.

The men in Springport—such as the guards I played cards with—were people I'd considered underlings or friends. I'd never thought we were sexually compatible.

But that blond jester and his lavender eyes, his ease of speech, his perky pep-talks, his never slumping shoulders... He'd activated something in me. Some dormant desire for the same sex that had amplified my already near insatiable appetite. Since I'd met him, I wanted—no, I craved everyone I came into contact with. Woman or man, it was difficult to control my thoughts, to not to act on my urges.

I snorted, wondering how Gwenore would react if I tried to seduce her, to pull myself from this ominous lust for Ysac, convince my body otherwise. No matter her dark and dreary exterior, I couldn't help it—what did this queen look like underneath her layers? What would it be like to—

"Argh, no more, Teo!"

I pulled the covers over my head and groaned.

***

I woke early, sore and sour from my dreams. Or were they nightmares? I couldn't tell. Damsels dancing in diamond dresses. Crow wings flapping, feathers transforming into obscure temptresses wearing black lace. And all these creatures had prismatic purple eyes that haunted me so much I forced myself awake, sweating and swearing.

I garbed myself in the same attire, wrinkling my nose at first; but the fabrics smelled like a field of lilacs. A trick from the Aces, perhaps? To keep us clean and polished to present ourselves to the queens?

As I fastened my boots, a knock came from the adjoining door. "Yes?"

Ysac entered, nimble in his shiny leggings and tinkling bells. "Ah, good, you're awake. Queen Gwenore waits for us in the entryway, I'm told. Let's go."

I had seconds to throw on my cloak before Ysac seized my wrist and dragged me down the dizzying steps. Were they making me dizzy? Or was it Ysac's proximity and the warmth of his touch?

The queen awaited near the doors, and at the sound of our footsteps, she spun to us. Her raven-and-navy hair was up in a high ponytail, pulling at the edges of her eyes, creasing them to icy slits. She sported a white leather and lace riding ensemble—pants, for a woman?—with black accents on the sleeves and boots. She held a chunky saddle-bag in one hand, and a smaller satchel in the other.

"Gentlemen," she nodded as we bowed, "are you ready? Our rides are at the stables."

At the animal enclosures, she scowled at our clubbers.

"I detest magical creatures almost as much as magical humans." She patted the silky ivory mane of her horse. "Forgive me, but I'll be riding this. Magnificent and majestic."

Once mounted, she towered two feet above us. Ysac grimaced as he looked away, and I shrugged. Not that I hadn't seen what the clubbers were capable of and now respected them more, but I myself was more used to horses, too.

We departed, passing by the slumbering fields, then through the city as its community slowly awakened. It was an hour or two after dawn, which was early for me, too. I yawned.

As we approached the Outer Gate, Queen Gwenore glanced at me. "After everything last night, I realize you never gave me your name."

I gulped. "Teodric, Majesty," I muttered, inclining my head. "I sometimes go by Teo."

She nodded. "Tell me, Teodric...what customs do they have in your southern forests? I've always wondered. In my youth, I was more of a northerner, in Acewood. Father didn't let us travel far south, let alone to other continents." She was pleasant compared to the night before, comfortable atop her horse as if she belonged in the saddle, swaying with the mare's gentle strides.

My tongue twisted in my mouth, and I peeked at Ysac, who flinched. We hadn't come up with a proper plan, and we certainly hadn't prepared to be in Queen Gwenore's presence for so long, for her to accompany us on part of our journey.

I shifted, irritating my clubber with my movements. "We...uh...rise at regular times, and...listen to the sounds of the woods, and chant—"

Ysac cleared his throat, interrupting my babbling. "His people aren't talkative about their ways, Majesty."

Gwenore's nostrils flared. "How convenient. Pray tell, what do our dear Aces do in their morning rituals nowadays? Summon demons to control our land? Blanket our territories with nefarious magic to subdue us?"

Ysac said little else after that, though I spotted his cheeks burning red and a nerve pulsating in his temple.

The ride was punctuated by Gwenore pointing out this or that landmark, specifying rules about her non-magical territory and how happy her people were. Anyone who saw us trot by waved, greeted her with delight, and some even presented gifts for our voyage. Her inhabitants loved her, no matter how she hoarded the province's main food-source and cut everyone off from Sir Sym's abilities.

We parted ways past the vivid green meadows, after climbing and descending the high hills.

"I wish you luck," she said, sneering. "Luned...well, she's a bit of a lunatic, isn't she, Ysac?" She steered her horse ahead, towards the narrow path to Acewood. "I'll be in town until you return. I'd rather not visit the Aces alone." She galloped off, and Ysac and I released collective breaths of relief.

We took a side passage down a dirt-riddled road shadowed by high trees with lurking, looming branches. Sunlight glimmered between the leaves and fluttered across Ysac's skin, like tiny twinkles from a chandelier.

"Lunatic?" I asked, as our clubbers found a steady rhythm next to one another.

"A strong term," Ysac winced, "but not untrue. Gwenore finds Luned odd, as most of Acewood Kingdom does. You see, Luned...she isn't like her sisters. She had a different mother. A mermaid, so rumor claims." He pinched his lips. "Maybe you don't know what those are...fantasy female fish-tailed fiends; that's the best way to describe them."

I snorted at his description. "That's a mouthful."

"And being half-mermaid...Luned has powers, which her siblings don't. It's never been proven, but she swears she communicates with beings of the sea." He struggled not to roll his eyes, I could tell. "Though there are under-water creatures in Efura, we've never determined how many, nor if any were, in fact, mermaids."

Mermaid wasn't a foreign term to me. I'd read tales of them in my monster books, back home. They were enraged under-water dwelling witches who lured sailors to their deaths with their siren's call. Eroan fairy tales portrayed them as mystical maidens with silvery curls and seashells covering their breasts. I'd also come across drawings where their bountiful breasts hung free, and I wouldn't lie and say I hadn't had a lusty dream or two about them.

"Luned states there's a kingdom ruled by white-haired women of the ocean...but none of us have lingered long enough near Spade Island or the ocean to confirm it. Her area tends to...well, to make one go a tad insane."

"Insane?" My grip on the clubber's mane tightened. I loved water, having grown up by the sea. But beings in the water? Oceanic kingdoms? Mermaids? The idea of such monsters being real didn't settle in my stomach.

"Because of the isolation. Being on an island, surrounded by waves and salt...it got to her head. It got to many heads. Even Arden had a hard time living there before they relocated to the castle." Ysac's shoulders rolled back. "We won't stay long. We can't spend the night near Luned." He kicked at his clubber's sides to go faster. "She's aloof and often seems elsewhere. I think she swallowed too much seawater while playing with her imaginary sea-creature friends."

Though I wanted to laugh at his quip, I stiffened. I had no clue what to expect from this mermaid-loving monarch.

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