The Fairest (Sample)
Chapter 11: Inner Joy

ERON SHADAR

A part of him didn’t want anything to do with the Purple Thief. But the mystery behind those beautiful eyes, her quick healing, and her snappy tongue only aroused his curiosity. If the incompetent king hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve enjoyed burning her flesh in front of everyone. Even the king had come to forget how powerful he truly was.

He growled, fueled to the bones with anger towards the ridiculous sentence from the king.

Mercy? Curse mercy!

Eron clenched his hands, wishing to turn every Royal and noble in the room into ashes. They were nothing and meant nothing to the Diviines. Only he was born with a gift from the Diviine Six and should have the last say. He glared at the Purple Thief as they escorted her back into the Doomed.

Mercy! He gave an inner growl. Death is for those who defy the Crown, not mercy. However, if they would be spending more time together, then he’d show her no mercy.

For too long, he had received an overwhelming number of complaints from his noble and middle-class sponsors concerning the little thieves and how much valuables they’d lost over the years. He gripped his sword, proudly called Yadonesar, meaning Last Scream in the realm’s tongue of Valeera. Yadonesar had taken many lives in its time, and many more to come. Perhaps the Purple Thief’s.

The next prisoner entered the throne room. Eron took that time to approach the throne, where the king took a note from his Knight Escort Ser Garret and read it intently. Whatever the message said, it didn’t sit well with the king. He shook his head and gave it back to his Knight Escort, who went to one of Prince Grisonce’s servants. That’s when he saw the quick exit of the Strange Prince himself and felt the hairs along the back of his neck rise.

“Eron, do you want something?” Dimitri asked, his bear of a voice partially masked by the rising chatter of failures who wanted to gossip about what had just occurred.

Eron returned to his first intentions to approach the throne.

“Your Majesty, I do not agree with the sentence you gave to that Strange.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t, Eron,” he said, giving a disgusted tone to his name. “You’d burn every single person who’d have the audacity to enter this hall if I left you in charge.”

Then why appoint me as head of your army? Eron held his tongue.

“I am only saying. That girl could’ve been the greatest example to keep resisters at bay,” Eron said.

“The last I heard, resisters only resist due to the fact of sentencing executions,” King Dimitri pointed out. “It wouldn’t make them stop, but only add fuel to their anger if I sent her to die. No. I give you permission to see what she is. Do not kill her, do you understand?”

Eron gave a nasty snort from within. Oh, how much he despised this man. Describing it would be too hard and by far too idiotic to express.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied through clenched teeth.

Eron faintly recalled short, friendly encounters with the king of Ardania. Most of the time, the man either tolerated his presence or avoided him. But one thing was sure to Eron’s realization, an unknown tension had formed between them. Who knew what matter of time would pass before one of them cracked.

“Also, never touch anyone in a court appearance and never speak of sorcery unless in a private audience with me,” Dimitri growled.

“I apologize for my recklessness,” he said, forcing a bow, but really, he wanted to turn him and his family of blondies to ashes.

“Good. Now return to your seat or leave, for all I care.” King Dimitri leaned back in his chair and waved a dismissive hand.

You will regret how you speak to me one day, Eron wanted to say but knew better.

He gave a decent bow and eased his way to the doors and into the Doomed. He didn’t want to linger in his stay in a place he wasn’t needed.

He descended into the Doomed and its dimmed and gloomy aura. He decided to begin an introduction to his inevitable sessions with the Purple Thief in one of the private chambers, then have her paraded back to the Taefo with new bruises. He knew many ways to get her to talk without claiming her life. It would be enough to reveal the location of her hideout, figure out what she was, and prove why she shouldn’t joke with him in a matter of hours. However, today, his interrogation couldn’t be long. It was custom to make an appearance at the Royal Luncheon and to prepare for the ceremony’s holiest of nights.

Within the packed cell, the Purple Thief stood out like a shining jewel. Everyone’s eyes widened in horror. They either stood or sat frozen in place, and when he caught eyes with the thief, the realization that crossed her face told him she knew who he was coming for.

“Release her,” he commanded the two guards.

“What for?” The Purple Thief’s eyes narrowed with fury.

“We need to finish last night’s conversation,” he said, and the twinkle of fear in her eyes made the fire in his blood spike.

“You don’t scare me, jester,” she said through clenched teeth as one guard shackled her.

But then she socked the guard in the nose so hard it cracked. The guard yelped and lost his footing as she shoved him right into the other guard. Eron flinched from her swiftness and watched her retreating form in a moment of shock and admiration. Her stunt aroused every prisoner, now cheering her along.

“Wait,” Eron ordered to the recuperating guards preparing to chase after her.

They gave him a strange look, but he ignored them and ran a few steps ahead. He summoned his fiery sooth and focused on the lit torches ahead of the Purple Thief. He gave a wicked grin as he waved both arms, then aimed his right hand at the girl’s back.

Instantly, the flames in the torches closer to the Purple Thief came to life. Their yellow blaze turned red as they grew and licked the air across the hall. The clever girl squealed as she slid to a stop to avoid being burnt. And when she turned to run back, he skillfully waved his hand, and his sooth shivered through his body as he formed another fiery barrier, pinning her in.

He chuckled and passed a satisfied grin to everyone now staring at him in silent fear. Calmly, he approached his flamed cage and realized it had been a week or so since he last used his power in this capacity. He sighed away the gush of excitement and relief as if he’d caged his sooth for years, focusing on the task at hand.

“Stop this!” the Purple Thief shouted.

Eron allowed the barrier in front of him to evaporate into the air. Tiny red embers dripped to the floor and fizzled out. He placed one hand on the hilt of Yadonesar, and with the other, he stroked the trimmed beard along his chin.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?”

A hint of red from the flames flickered in the girl’s purple eyes. She glanced between the barrier and him with pure disgust, hatred, and fear.

“I have her from here,” he said to the guards. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

He dissipated the barrier of flames, returning portions of it back into the lanterns. Then he led the girl through the Doomed to a lone cell by an exit, where two guards stood laughing at some unknown joke. When they spotted him, they quickly hushed and stood up straight and tall.

“Commander,” they greeted.

“Open this one,” he said, and one of them fumbled with a ring of keys and the lock and managed to open the cell.

He shoved the girl inside and snatched the ring of keys. “You two, go beyond the door.” They fearfully obeyed.

Once they were gone, he closed the door to the cell and turned to face the girl.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

Eron frowned. He tilted his head and scanned her from head to toe, already growing aroused by the countless things he could do to make her talk. After a minute of this, the Strange shifted with unease, but she kept those eyes glaring.

“Mageia,” he tasted her name. For some reason, it made him hungry. “May I admit something?” he whispered.

“Like what?” She stood tense and on guard.

“You are strangely beautiful,” he confessed. “Your eyes are mesmerizing.”

This caught her off guard; he could tell right away. The glare in her eyes turned into a confused look, and her shoulders tensed embarrassedly. She scowled before she responded. “Don’t expect a compliment in return.”

Eron gave a deep-throated laugh and edged closer. Her guard went up again, bounded hands raised, prepared to defend herself.

“So, you’ve never tried figuring out what you are?”

She shrugged. “I’m not power hungry like you.”

“Still. Purple eyes are not normal.”

“Nor are red,” she said.

This one has a quick tongue, he thought, and he somewhat enjoyed it.

“You heal quickly, so there is magic in your blood,” Eron said, stepping closer.

“What do you want? Really?”

“To help you, of course,” he smirked.

She spat at his boots. “Go defect yourself.”

Anger resurfaced within his veins, and the two lanterns within the cell and those in the hall flickered. The girl startled and strengthened her guard.

“I’m not scared of you,” she said, though he sensed and could see the very opposite.

“Not yet,” he mumbled.

“I don’t need your help to figure out what I am.”

“The king has appointed me—”

“I don’t give a flying fut about the king and his damn sentence. I’m getting out of here one way or another.”

“With the coroners too, huh?” He fought the urge to charge her and give her a good beating.

She gave a dry chuckle. “You need to work more on your jokes.”

His smirk dropped again into a snarl. He didn’t like this little thief calling him a joke or jester. He clenched his hands and took a few steps closer. She backed away, but kept her fighting stance. Her eyes scanned the bars and what lay beyond him, and he smirked.

“Don’t come closer!” she shouted. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, I want to see you try,” he jeered, then swiftly closed the distance between them.

She panicked and swung her bound arms, trying to strike him, but he easily blocked it. As she tried to slip past him, he grabbed her around the waist and turned her around. Gripping her hair, he flung her against the side wall. Her elbows struck him in his shoulder and upper chest, but with his lighter armor, he barely felt it. He pressed his elbow into her spine.

She yelped in pain, and her body’s instincts kicked in. She froze long enough for him to slam her face into the wall and lock her still. She screamed, her arms pinned and unable to hit back, but she still squirmed. He pressed his entire body into hers and felt his groin harden at the sudden heat of her struggle.

“Get off of me!” she yelled. He grinned, feeling her body tremble.

He put his lips close to her ear, almost touching it. “Know this, my lady. If you don’t behave yourself, I will, indeed, enjoy our future sessions.”

“Fut you,” she cursed as a sob escaped. “Get off, please. You’re hurting me.”

He sucked in the spicy aroma from her curly black hair and grunted. “You smell so good,” he said, a warm feeling igniting in his chest.

The disgusted sound she made urged him to add more weight on her. Despite the chill in the cell, the heat of their bodies was intoxicating.

“Please, stop,” she begged. A single tear escaped an eye and disappeared into the brown of her chin.

“Give me the location of your hideout, and I will release you.”

“Ice over in hell,” she said.

“Oh, I’ve never heard that one before,” Eron said. “How about a little heat, seeing that you can miraculously heal.”

He gathered their forming heat and let it rip through the pores in his left hand. He slapped his hand against the wall just inches from her nose. Her eyes widened in horror, and she squirmed again, stronger. He kneed her in the back of her left knee. The girl buckled, unable to move an inch now. With his other hand, he gently removed the strands of hair from her face and touched her smooth skin. The residue of that runaway tear kissed his fingers, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Why are you doing this?” she said, squeezing her eyes closed.

“To get what I want.”

“I’m not telling you anything until you get off of me,” she said, screaming the last few words. “Why can’t you just leave them be?”

“They must face the consequences for their crimes.”

“What about you and what you’re doing to me?”

“I received permission from the Crown to see what you are,” he said. “I do not recall any specific limitations other than not killing you.”

A slight chuckle escaped her throat, and it caught his interest.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re a fool.”

He moved his flaming hand inches towards her shoulder, and she shivered. “Why so, my lady?”

Her upper lip twitched until she finally said, “I recall in history when Soothers once held crowns.”

“Are you trying to mock me again?” He stared at the bright reflection of his flames on the stone wall.

“No. I’m just amazed by how someone said to be a gift from the gods is torturing someone who may also be a fellow gift from the gods.”

Eron cocked his head so she couldn’t see him from her peripheral.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what you were?”

“I don’t, but my eyes are purple for a reason, right? There just has to be a reason. I’ve always wondered. Yet, here you are, a Fiisen in such an important position, given the job lower of his status, deciding to torture what could be a great ally.”

His sooth drew into his pinkened skin; an uncomfortable feeling compared to when he would release it. This Strange’s words had captured him.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I don’t know. I just feel as if all of this is for naught.”

Eron licked his lips and felt an unusual flutter in his gut, and suddenly wanted to kiss this girl. Her words did align with parts of his own belief and knowledge, but something told him she couldn’t be trusted. At least not yet.

“Honestly, Commander, people claim they’re Fair, but at the end of the day, they still bruise, they still wither. But I’ve become aware that I can heal quicker than anyone else. That means I must be something. Right? But I heard a Soother is supposed to be like the Elves, with power and immortality in their blood. Under this roof, Commander, who’s the Fairest of the Fairs?”

He rubbed his nose against her ear, and she trembled, but a smirk grew across her face. A mischievous smirk?

“Mhmm,” someone cleared their throat. “Should I interrupt?” the familiar voice slipped into the silence like a shadow.

Eron cut his gaze to the soldier, who was leaning against the bars with his own playful grin. His sky-blue eyes were haunting under the lantern lights. Eron released her from his body weight, and she inhaled a lungful of air as if she had been holding her breath the entire time. Her words … The girl was toying with him, trying to make him change the subject, but her words didn’t wash away entirely.

“Don’t do anything stupid. I will burn you alive,” Eron threatened and approached the bars.

“They were right; she is beautiful,” the soldier said with a great sense of casualness. “Pardon my interruption, ser.” Sii patted his heart two times and offered it away to him in the Ardanian’s proper salute.

“What do you want, Sii?”

“Yes, ser,” he mocked, but Eron muffled his simmering sooth. The young man was a menace and utterly annoying, but considering the secret they shared, he had useful skills. Skills that could easily give Eron whatever he wanted on a silver platter with a simple “go.” No questions or hesitations.

He smiled brightly, but it didn’t match his frozen eyes. “A good letter flew in for you.”

Eron’s chest expanded, happy to hear those two words. It has been months since he received a good letter. The phrase was just a euphemism to trick people of the letter’s true existence; a letter from someone he should not be conversing with.

Sii’s smile grew wider. At least a few years older than Eron’s nineteen, Sii and his fellow companions had been appointed to work for him, to be loyal to him, to be able to tolerate bloodshed, and to work in the darkest corners of the palace.

“Give it to me,” he said.

Sii dug into the metal of his uniform and slipped him a scroll no larger than his pinky finger. A black ribbon had been tied around it, clipped with a red painted pin. This tiny useless item and the contents stored within it meant more to him than the damn Purple Thief staring across the cell as if uninterested in their conversation.

“You can leave now.” Eron removed the pin and stuck it into his pants pocket.

“Enjoy,” Sii said, referring to either the letter or the girl Eron now had no interest in.

As the soldier exited the side door to the foyer of the palace, a knight and a soldier approached from the opposite direction. Quickly, he slipped the scroll away and frowned. They were dressed in green and gold armor, each with the sigil of Ardania engraved into their breastplates: a bare tree within an elongated hexagon. By their full gold shoulder plates, it identified them as royal escorts whom he recognized instantly as part of Prince Gideon’s escorts. Their eyes bounced from him to the girl with questions they dared not to relate.

“Ser Merlin. Has Prince Gideon returned?”

“No,” said the redheaded Knight Escort. “I left him some hours ago with the blacksmith and some escorts.”

“Okay,” he said, then cut his eyes to the soldier. “And you’ve abandoned your post, Dargany.”

“I was relieved, actually,” Dargany said quickly and firmly.

“Has anyone stopped by the Doomed during the appearances?”

“No, sir,” the soldier said.

Eron pierced them with his gaze. “Okay, so why are you two here?”

“Word spreads fast,” Ser Merlin said with a grim expression. “Prince Gideon has requested to meet with her once he’s returned.”

“Who?” For a second, he’d forgotten the purple-eyed beauty locked in the cell with him. He glanced between the knight and the thief, who was just as surprised. “Why?”

“For company, of course,” he said.

“Hell no!” The Purple Thief edged further into the cell.

Eron didn’t like this idea either. He began searching for the cell key. “Give me a good reason why I should just hand this possible witch over to a Royal?”

“Because,” Ser Merlin arrogantly pointed at his gold shoulder plates. An arrogance that reminded the commander that he couldn’t order or push around certain knights.

He gave an inward growl and handed Dargany the key to unlock the cell while he went to fetch the girl. She struggled against him, but obeyed. Once they were released, he shoved the girl into the newly arriving knight. Ser Merlin cringed with disgust of the Strange filth, but took her nonetheless. Dargany took her by the other arm and didn’t look at all happy.

“Make sure you keep a close eye on her,” Eron said. “I want her returned here in this particular cell within two hours.”

“That would depend on the time of Gideon’s return,” Ser Merlin sneered.

“She should not be left alone.” Eron prepared to yank the girl away from them, but they were already moving for the exit.

“We can handle a girl, Commander. You go and do something worthy of your status.”

Eron heard a tinge of mockery in his statement, but he brushed it off.

The Purple Thief struggled against their strong grips. “No. No. Commander, don’t let them do this.”

A shiver of humor slithered up his throat, and stretched his lips into a smirk. Fear covered her face. He knew once the perverted prince had finished pleasing himself; she would cry for death instead of imprisonment.

As they exited the Doomed, he took out the scroll and unraveled it. He slid his eyes across the fancy cursive writing and sighed with inner joy.

“I love you too,” he muttered into the shadows.