The Child Prince (The Artifactor) (31 page)

“Mistress Emma.” He owed the woman a major favor too. “I requested a variety of finger foods, so she made meat pies with a variety of sliced fruit, cheeses, and breads.”

Hana lit up in anticipation. “Sounds delightful. She’s a very good cook.”

“I know.” She had in fact stayed on longer than she needed to and no one had discouraged her, as they all preferred her cooking. “In fa-act—” he stopped abruptly when his voice cracked, grimacing.

Hana paused a moment, looking at him in concern. “Is your voice still cracking?”

“Only rarely.” Fortunately. Rubbing at his throat, he explained, “Sevana says it’s the bed’s fault, in a way. Because it’s forcing my body to grow so rapidly, my hormones are being mixed up a little in the process.”

She didn’t need him to spell it out to see the effects. Eyes tight with concern she said quietly, “So you’re going through puberty in a month’s time.”

“Physically speaking, yes.” This time he truly grimaced. “I don’t recommend doing that, by the way. Aside from being painful, it’s…frustrating. The random mood swings alone are frustrating.”

“I can only imagine.” She hesitated before slowly venturing, “You could slow down a little. Not force yourself to grow that fast.”

“Sevana said the same thing.” Although not that politely. “And you’re both right. I just can’t help myself. After ten years of not having the option, with the bed in front of me, I just can’t resist growing while I can.”

They entered the woods surrounding the river at that point, the thick shade of the forest making the air slightly cooler. He considered the atmosphere more closely. The woods were alive with the sound of insects, rustling leaves, and the smell of water. It didn’t feel nearly as sweltering in here as it did in the village. Perhaps he didn’t need more than one cooling charm after all. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach the right spot, a pretty clearing that sat on the riverbank and had a nice, flat, sandy surface for them to spread a blanket on. They traded instructions and quips as they went about unloading the basket. It took two attempts before Bellomi could figure out how to turn on the cooling charms, but once he did, the air become noticeably cooler in a short amount of time. Perhaps he only needed one to do the job after all.

Hana devoured half a meatpie with gusto, but after that first half was eaten, she slowed considerably, chewing on her bottom lip in open hesitation.

He picked up on it and stopped as well, swallowing the mouthful he had before encouraging, “Ask. You can ask me anything.”

“Bellomi…I’m just wondering
why
it took ten years before Sevana came to help you. Did your family try to break the curse?”

Ah. Hmm. How to answer this? He didn’t believe for one minute that Hana would ever betray him, but he’d also promised to keep his true identity a secret for as long as he could. Perhaps, if he were vague enough and kept his answers general? “Hana, I’m from a rather…well, a rather well to-do family.”

“Aristocracy,” she corrected instantly. “Oh, don’t look surprised. I figured that out ages ago. Your speech, conduct and education are too high for you to be common born.”

Just how much had this woman figured out…? Probably better not to know just yet. “Well, I am the only son of the main family. The only child at all, actually. I believe that’s the reason why I was cursed to begin with.”

Her attention completely focused on him at that point. “To keep you from inheriting,” she breathed, eyes wide with alarm. “Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.” He tried to smile, but it felt very forced and rigid. “But that’s why ten years passed without me ever being truly helped. No one around me wanted that curse broken. It gave them a better chance of taking over my title and position.”

She reached and grasped his hand, holding it tightly. He returned the grip, but had to look away from her for a moment. Talking about this brought it all back, making a hot surge of emotions squeeze his heart and almost choke him. He’d like to blame this on his body’s hormonal fluctuations but intellectually, he knew he couldn’t. Bellomi closed his eyes, hard, to force budding tears back.

Hana perhaps sensed he needed a moment because she just held his hand for a long time, not saying anything.

He took in a deep, cleansing breath, let it out again, and reopened his eyes. The scene in front of him helped to push the anger, grief and pain away. Sunlight danced along the water’s surface, birds chirped and flew in and out of the trees nearby, and the faintest hint of saltwater floated on the air. Being outside like this anchored him to the present, reminding him poignantly that he was no longer caged in his own home.

“So how did Sevana come into this?” Hana asked softly.

“She kidnapped me.”

Hana squawked unintelligibly at this answer, eyes bulging.

Seeing her reaction, he couldn’t help but chuckle, and the reminder of those nightmarish days faded back to memory. “Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? But that’s exactly what happened. Morgan came to her and convinced her that breaking my curse would be the ultimate challenge. She was just bored enough to give it a try.”

Hana put her face in one hand, shaking her head in resignation. “That sounds so like her.”

“I’ll be forever grateful for her hatred of boredom.” Not to mention for Morgan’s silver tongue.

She didn’t ask what he would do when the curse was properly broken. Probably because she already knew the answer. Thankful for her discretion and sensitivity, he changed the topic to a lighter one, asking about funny childhood memories. He swapped tales with her, although his were more recent than the ones she shared. He had her especially captivated at his recounting of being kidnapped by the Fae. But he found her stories of growing up in a family with an absentminded parent and protective older sister to be just as interesting, giving him insight into a life he had never known.

Several hours passed without their notice, and it was only as the sun threatened to disappear over the horizon altogether that they realized the hour. Belatedly realizing that he shouldn’t have kept her out here this long, Bellomi walked her home.

The village still had some life to it, with people going back and forth, but at this hour of the evening, most of the stores had closed up for the evening. Almost everyone had retreated to their homes and were in the midst of preparing dinner. They encountered very few people as he escorted her properly to her house.

At her door, she paused and looked back at him, her hand lingering on his arm.

He looked back at her with his heart in his throat. Did he dare ask…? No, in this circumstance, he
had
to say something. “Hana, I would very much like to repeat this day.”

“I as well.” Leaning in, she said in a confidential tone, “But I think we should take turns on deciding where to go.”

Thereby inferring…that she wanted to do this on a regular basis? He perked up hopefully. “That sounds fair.”

“Good. Then I will let you know where we should go next.” She looked very satisfied with herself, like a cat that knew how to get into the cream. Without warning, she came in close enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Then with a wink, she disappeared through her front door.

Bellomi stayed frozen in place for several seconds. He didn’t know what he did, but it must have been something right, for her to react so favorably. With a silly grin on his face, he turned about and headed back for the mountain, whistling as he went.

~ ~ ~

Of course, he couldn’t return to his magical bed without being caught by
someone
. He’d returned the basket properly to the kitchen, and retreated back down the hall and toward his new bed when he noticed his father standing in the doorway to the research room. “Father,” he greeted.

Aren had an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re just now returning?”

“Yes.” Bellomi stopped two feet away, put a hand on one hip and waited to see what this could be about.

“Where were you?”

“Milby.” More or less.

Aren let out a long sigh. “Son, shouldn’t you be training? I know that we can’t really come up with a precise plan yet without more information, but spending all day in the village is not the best use of your time.”

So…he hadn’t seen Bellomi return the picnic basket to the kitchen? Good. That was something that he didn’t feel like discussing just yet. “Father, part of training to being a good king is learning how to interact with people. I still have room for improvement in that area. So I will go into Milby, or any other place in Windamere, whenever I feel like I should. You’re not going to be able to stop me.”

“It’s dangerous out there,” Aren argued, face flushing with anger. “If anyone should know of your identity—”

“A fact I’m well aware of and have taken precautions against,” Bellomi cut him off, not wanting to get into a fight with him. After the perfect day he’d had with Hana, it would be a shame to end it on a sour note.

“How?” Aren demanded.

“In several ways. My cover story is that I’m a cursed boy Sevana took in as an apprentice, partially to break my curse. Morgan has explained to anyone that inquired that I was unable to grow until recently. But Sevana has found a magical cure, hence my insane growth spurt.” His father failed to look convinced. With a sigh, he tried again. “To the people of Milby, I am simply ‘Bel.’ The existence of the first prince of Windamere is almost a forgotten thing, Father. Only the Council really cares, but I’ve walked past the guards searching for me without them suspecting who I was. I know what I’m doing.”

“Enough so that flirting with a village girl is nothing that I should worry over?” his father challenged with pointed arch of the eyebrow.

Goblins and crows! So he
had
caught sight of Bellomi returning the basket. But how dare the man challenge him on this point, after what he had done? Bellomi felt his own temper flare up and he riposted with a harsh tone, “I don’t want to hear that from you, not after what you did.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Aren demanded.

“The right of choice where my bride is concerned is the one thing that only I am allowed to have.” Bellomi took a stranglehold on his emotions, trying not to lose his temper more than he already had. It felt like the blood had rushed to his head, so he took a few calming breaths before he spoke again. “But you robbed me of that.”

“What in mercy’s sweet name are you talking about?” Aren asked in genuine confusion.

Bellomi stared at him, aghast for a long moment. It felt like someone had doused him with a pail of icy mountain water.
He doesn’t remember
, he realized in shock.

“Bellomi?” Aren prompted, growing more concerned, anger fading.

It took another moment for him to push his anger aside and face this rationally. As calmly as he could, he asked, “Father, do you remember what you were trying to do before the curse hit you? There was one thing in particular, a contract involving me that you were trying to get out of.”

Aren leaned against the stone wall, rubbing his palms idly together, thinking hard. Then he let out an explosive breath. “It’s been too long. I don’t remember.”

“A certain betrothal agreement?” Bellomi prodded.

His father froze, whole body twitching in what might have been a flinch. “Oh gods and spirits above! I’d forgotten about that completely. Wait, do you mean that no one thought to cancel that contract?”

“How can they, with one king completely inaccessible to negotiations?”

Aren let out a pained groan. “That’s right. There was that clause in there, wasn’t there. How old is Winifred now? Eighteen?”

“Nineteen. She’ll turn twenty this year,” Bellomi corrected grimly. “Before, with me just sitting in that room, I wasn’t worried about it. No other kingdom would marry their daughter off to a cursed eight-year-old prince. But now? I look like I’m fourteen. I’m steadily growing because of Sevana’s aid. But if the Council took me away from her, I would go right back to not aging again and forever being a teenager.”

Aren pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’d have an eternal puppet to put on the throne. And there wouldn’t be a thing you could do about it unless Sevana came back in to break you out.”

Yes, and wouldn’t doing that repetitiously be expensive. Not to mention dangerous.

“It’s the only decision that I truly regretted. At first, I thought it a splendid idea. Winifred was close to your age, it would foster good relations with Belen, and you wouldn’t have to worry about political maneuvering later as men tried to foist their daughters onto you as your queen. But your mother nearly took a strip off my hide for making that decision for you.” Aren sounded half-amused and half-sour in remembrance. “She said I had no right to choose your happiness for you.”

“Why did you insist on a princess to begin with?” Bellomi asked, honestly curious about this. “I mean, Mother was a judge’s daughter.”

“Actually, it was Winifred’s father that talked me into the idea. I hadn’t even thought of a betrothal before that point. Now I know why, of course.”

Yes, hidden in that betrothal agreement had been a clause that when Bellomi died, the two kingdoms would merge and become a New Belen, where the children of the union would step forward and reign. A bloodless conquest, as it were. It was a little side note that had been overlooked during the signing of the agreement and only found about two years later.

“Is that why you’re pushing forward with the courtship of this young woman?” Aren asked with new understanding. “You’re afraid of the betrothal agreement?”

“Well, no. I’m very anxious to escape the agreement because of her, though.” Aren winced as he said this in a scathing tone. Bellomi had to take another breath to make his voice even again. “But Father, I want you to promise me here and now that you’ll honor Mother’s wishes. I get to choose who my bride will be.”

“She has to be intelligent enough to survive in court and gracious enough to not embarrass the royal family,” Aren warned. “I won’t accept her otherwise.”

“Of course.” Bellomi didn’t worry about that for one moment.