The Fairy King and his Cursed Queen ✔

10 | FOR ME

"Oh, none be so merry as the Fae!" In my little cage above a huge pot, I cast off my immediate danger and continued to sing. It was less for my benefit and more so for my miserable companion. "Come, Majesty! Do not let me sing alone."

I wanted to keep all eyes on me and not on what was left of the princess as she was hoisted up by vines until she hung in a separate cage beside me.

Once then twice, our prisons bounced against one another. On the third strike, I caught hold of hers and reached in with my right hand.

"Majesty?"

Weak fingers gripped mine, but I felt great.

So, my cage pressed against hers, her hand in mine, I continued to sing.

"We swing and we sway as we cut through a nave. None be so merry as the Fae."

"Silence!" One elf shouted, then another, as they covered their ears and scurried around.

I ignored them and kept on. Once the room was empty, I surveyed our confines. We were in a tree of sorts because this resembled a smaller version of my throne room.

But there was no sense of Manoj, and most importantly, with us being off the ground, that weak grip on my hand strengthened.

That was a worry because now there was no denying that the dirt was literally consuming her energy. Manoj was after her. And because she could not fly, there was no safety.

In time, the princess squeezed my hand and I found myself making small circles with my thumb. My voice was hoarse, but now rather than sing, I hummed. It would be enough.

"We've failed."

I didn't look at her. "Nonsense. They've put us right where we need to be. Look. They use the sun to fuel their fire magic. isn't this lovely?"

My cage jumped as the princess sat up then looked around. Color returned to her cheeks, but that was probably from the anger.

"This? This is your plan? To get cooked!"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Listen, little miss ungrateful, I said I have a plan and you promised to trust in that plan."

Her hand still gripped mine. Despite her anger, instead of pulling away, she interlocked our fingers.

"Very well," she said, breathing steady for the first time in an hour. "How do we fuel the stones?"

"We let them cook us and—"

"Imbecile!"

I slipped from her grip and rested back against my own wooden cage, arms folded. "You know, the day you allow me to finish a thought, must be the day either of us die."

Far below, a big black pot of gray bubbled and simmered. With only one path leading in or out, my grand plan seemed hopeless.

"I'm sorry."

A lot of swallowed pride went into royalty admitting err. I allowed those two little words to linger between us.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I haven't been supportive; I've just been a bother."

Our cages swung close, and she caught hold with both hands. I wouldn't look at her, but I was relieved to see her able to move. Even now, she must have realized how warm it was.

"Please. Go on with your brilliant idea," she begged. "I'm sure it's perfect."

I turned with my back to her, knees at my chest. "Well, I'd rather not waste my breath."