Lord of the Night

Chapter 40: My Prince

As I packed up the tent, the sun crawled up over the horizon, and warmth brushed my skin. Two Guardians still stood watch some distance from us, crossbows hanging relaxed in their hands but eyes never leaving Isalio. Further off, tents flopped to the ground as poles were removed, and hushed voices murmured. Everyone prepared for the journey ahead—everyone except Isalio. He still sat on the ground, arms wrapped over his chest and shoulders shaking.

Holding the pole and tarp bags in one hand, I shifted my weight to prop my other hand on my hip and frowned at him. "Maybe I can negotiate for two less cuffs."

"You can't fucking negotiate, Remgar."

The venom in his voice knocked me back a step, and my fist slipped off my hip. "Why not? They need you to be able to walk, at least, and they must know they can block your powers with just two..." My chest tightened, remembering how he had somehow knocked down a dozen Demons while still wearing two cuffs—when the Demons were about to kill me. I shifted and cleared my throat. "Anyone would be able to see that you're weak right now. You're no threat."

"Just like at the rebel base?"

His face and voice were neutral, hiding all emotion and even the obvious sarcasm. I expelled a frustrated huff of laughter, but before I could decide how to respond, a small figure flounced toward us, hips waving and breasts and hair bouncing—Zuzette. She stopped a few feet from us and looked us both up and down. Then she flung a hand over one breast.

"Well, color me shocked, going from the Demons to the Guardians didn't change much! You two are still in a mess—you just switched who's wearing the cuffs. And I'm still being asked to serve."

Every part of what she'd said bothered me, but the last part was easiest to address. "Who asked you to serve, Zuzette?"

"Some fiery fire-head said everyone has a job right now. 'Universal voluntary contribution,' so we can win back our freedom together, and bla, bla, bla. Self-righteous asshat, is what she is. Thinks she's a real hero just because everyone calls her Leader."

"Fraschkit is a good Leader, with a good heart. And she's my friend."

She snorted. "Think that's enough to save your Prince?"

My stomach kicked up a flutter, and I instinctively snuck a glance at Isalio, but he did not meet my gaze. "My Prince?" I croaked.

She shrugged. "People are saying you're protecting him."

Not very well, I thought. Thanks to me, he was weak, cuffed, and awaiting trial among his enemies. "He's going to help us."

"Not if the other Guardians have anything to say about it. And the verdict on you isn't looking good, either. A Guardian serving the Demons is barely better than a Demon, you know." She hesitated, darting a glance left and right before lowering her voice. "They don't know I've been serving the Demons, too."

"I won't tell anyone," I promised. "But also, you don't need to worry about that. Fraschkit would not allow a human to be harmed for serving Demons."

She scoffed. "We'll see. I think your Leader is already suspicious of me, since I volunteered to bring breakfast to the Demon. Which reminds me..."

She dug something from her satchel and chucked it at me. Reflexively, I caught the offering—two packets of rehydrated rice and veggies, the same kind I had eaten at the base.

"The food here's terrible," said Zuzette. "Enjoy!" Then she turned on her heel and flounced off in the direction she had come.

I dropped down beside Isalio and offered him one of the packets. He grimaced at the food and flicked a dismissive wrist.