[Fae Scandals 1]Prince of Submission (9 page)

One Year Later

“Corrin?” Richard called, coming around the corner and into the Seelie prince’s room. Richard was struck by the gorgeous picture the prince presented. He was standing by the large bay window that looked out over the Blue Ridge Mountains that wound their way through miles of open country. His pale hair was tied back from his face with a leather strap, and he wore a loose-fitting white shirt over a pair of tight dark-wash blue jeans. The easel in front of him held a large canvas, which he was painting with his discerning eye. He just wished he wasn’t painting
him
.

He’s painting that same guy again.
Ever since he’d come home early from New Orleans, he’d painted the same man, over and over again. He was painted as different gods, sometimes as Pan, other times as Poseidon, most often as Hades on his dark throne in the underworld, but it was always the same brooding male. It was very strange and the face was vaguely familiar though Richard couldn’t quite place it. If it were anyone else, Richard would be suggesting a cleansing for the boy. He seemed absolutely haunted by the man in the painting. If he wasn’t careful, Corrin would draw his father’s attention on the subject, and then they would all be paying for it.

“What is it, Richard?” Corrin asked. He stepped back from the painting, giving himself and Richard a full view. Piercing blue eyes stared out from the painting. Fashionable black spiky hair somehow emphasized the high cheekbones and aristocratic nose. A half smile played on his lips as he rested his chin on his hand in a carefree fashion. The man was sitting on a throne made of shiny black onyx, and the background was high vaulted ceilings and gothic architecture. On either side of the throne, Shades stood milling around and two dancers twirled with fire. To the left of the throne a figure knelt, his hand resting on Hades’s knee, his pale blond hair hiding his face. It was dark yet energetic. It was a beautiful painting. Yet, its subject matter was so wrong, thinly veiled or not.

“It looks like an Unseelie painting,” Richard said. “My lord, this is…obscene.”

Corrin’s eyes narrowed. “It is my right to display the gods as I see fit. Hades is the god of the underworld. This is how I picture him. If I need the opinion of one of my guards regarding the matter, you’ll be the first one I’ll ask.”

“Forgive me, my prince. I meant no insult.” Richard said the words, but they felt like ash in his mouth. Every day Corrin spent in this place, he sounded more and more regal but also more detached, colder, like he was falling into his nobility and losing the carefree boy all his guards loved dearly. It worried him.

Corrin nodded his acceptance of the apology and stepped back up to his canvas. “Now, what do you want, Richard?”

“Your father has requested your presence for tea. He has some news he wishes to discuss with you,” Richard said.

“Oh? And what news is that?” Corrin demanded, putting his brush in a vat of linseed oil. He’d recently started using oil paints instead of his acrylics. If he was cleaning his brushes, it meant that he was done for today.

“I’m not sure, my lord,” Richard offered. “He didn’t inform me.”

“Very well,” Corrin said, dismissing Richard with a wave of his hand.

Richard turned to leave but hesitated at the doorway. “My lord?”

“What, Richard?” Corrin snapped impatiently.

“What happened in New Orleans?”

Corrin froze for an instant, and pain filled his gaze. Richard’s eyes widened with understanding, but in the next instant the emotion vanished from Corrin’s expression. The guard knew that whatever had happened had given the Seelie emotional scars that still were unhealed. That imperfection was smoothed away, and in its place, the perfect Seelie prince was again in control.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business, Richard.”

“Of course not, my lord. Forgive me for speaking out of turn.”

“Get out.”

Richard bowed and let himself out of the room.

* * * *

“Father, the tea is especially excellent this evening,” Corrin commented, quietly sipping from the fine china the servants had set before them.

Seelie Fae loved compliments, and questions were deemed impolite. They had been sitting at the tiny tea table for the last several minutes, chatting inanely about the weather, political rumors, and Corrin’s latest paintings. He couldn’t bluntly ask what his father wanted. He missed the blunt honesty of Adrian’s kind.
Unseelie are always honest. It is our way
. Adrian’s words came back to haunt him in that moment. Corrin shivered from the memory.

“You will have to compliment the servants for the tea this evening. I had little to do with it. Now, to the matter at hand,” the king of the Seelie court said.
Finally
. His time around humans had not done much to increase his patience. “I have seen your progress over the past year, Corrin. Your mother and I have noted the ease with which you have made yourself quite a following among your peers here at court. Apparently, I was wrong to assume being among the humans would hinder your abilities to socialize with the courtiers. You’ve formed alliances with several crucial peers. Your tutors have told me you have mastered most of the concepts of the monarchy and your history is excellent. The weapons master even said you had improved. Thus we’ve decided that it is a good time to give you more responsibility. We’re putting you in charge of Seelie and Unseelie relations.”

Corrin froze and stalled by taking another long sip of tea followed by a bite of pastry. What was he supposed to say to that? He chewed slowly, mulling it over. And what did that entail exactly? He strained his mind, trying to remember if they’d covered it in his tutoring. Finally he had to speak. “It is a great honor, Father. Though I am curious as to why we have the position at all. As far as I am aware, we have no real relations between our court and the Unseelie court.”

His father waved a hand, and one of the white-clad servants brought over another dish of butter for their use. Corrin stole a look around the hall. The white halls were immaculate as always because of their diligence. “In your lifetime, that is very true,” his father said. “However, I was contacted recently by the king of the Unseelie court. They want some land in the Blue Ridge Mountains for their festival rites. The humans are running them out of the cities. I don’t really blame the humans, mind you. Unseelie for the most part are filthy savages. Those Unseelie degenerates are lower on the proverbial food chain than the humans.” The comment struck a chord in Corrin, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from correcting his father. “However, I am reminded by my advisors that I must show some degree of civility in the matter. I find the task somewhat…arduous. Your teachers tell me you have done extensive study on Unseelie culture, so I pass the task onto you.”

Corrin opened his mouth to say thank you only to snap it shut. Older Seelie did not take kindly to someone thanking them for some reason. “This is an incredible opportunity,” he said. “Am I supposed to be writing to an emissary or something?” His father’s gaze snapped to his own, and he realized his blunder instantly. He’d asked a direct question. Corrin pursed his lips and took another sip of tea.

His father let it slide. “No. You are going to be meeting with an emissary. An Unseelie prince is coming to stay with us for a two-week stretch to negotiate the terms of the agreement. He is the highest ranking prince after King Sardis.”

Corrin mentally sighed in irritation. This was just what he wanted to do, play host to some Unseelie Vampire who would dredge up all his memories of one hot night with Adrian. The sarcasm of his internal voice would’ve made his father spit nails.
Adrian
. The name slithered through his mind like a physical caress. His arousal stirred.
Not here
. He prayed his body would listen to his wishes.

His father continued speaking. “Once you finish with this, your mother asked me to ask you if you would be willing to begin seeing some of the eligible ladies of court? Not that we’re pressuring you, but we want you to try them all before making your decision.”

Corrin gritted his teeth, but he gave his best practiced smile. His arousal withered at the thought. “Of course, Father. I look forward to it.”

* * * *

Corrin adjusted the collar on his shirt for the fortieth time. It had been a week since his and his father’s “talk,” and the hour had finally arrived. Well, the hour had come and gone, and now the bloody Unseelie prince was over forty minutes late. The gentle spring weather of the mountains wasn’t too harsh, but it annoyed Corrin to no end that he was standing outside in his best suit.

He was decked from head to toe in white. His pants were a soft cotton material that hugged his ass, a bit too tightly to be honest, and his jacket was the same with delicate green accents that caused his eye color to pop. His hair was done in elaborate braids to take the heavy mass out of his face, and the rest tumbled down his back in a pale wave that went to midthigh. He embodied the essence of the Seelie court, displaying both the purity of the race as well as the delicate beauty that was so highly prized.

“Well this is starting off well,” he muttered to himself. “Probably going to get dirt on this damn thing before I even get to meet the damn emissary. How does one get lost on the way to the bloody Seelie kingdom? It’s the only one in America.” He could’ve sworn he heard one of his guards chuckle at his distress.

“Carriage!” one of the lookouts called from somewhere above him.

“About freakin’ time,” Corrin muttered. He pasted a courtier’s smile on his face and awaited the arrival of his enemy.
Er, not exactly enemy
,
ally
.

The sleek black carriage came to a halt a few feet from where Corrin stood. He hadn’t seen the color in months other than in his paintings. It wasn’t a shade often found in the Seelie court. It was in direct opposition to the “ideals” of the white courts. It didn’t surprise Corrin that the emissary chose to ride in on a black horse so to speak. Whoever had been chosen to negotiate with the Seelie court was making a statement. “We’re different from you, and what you think doesn’t matter.” Secretly, Corrin found the attitude titillating.

The door swung open, and Corrin waited patiently as the passenger disembarked.

“Terribly sorry, we got lost on one of the back roads on the way into the reservation,” a tall man in a pure black suit said, his face turned toward the driver. Corrin mentally rolled his eyes. “You have no idea how embarrassing it is to get lost.”

The man finally turned and looked at Corrin head-on. A familiar wicked grin caused Corrin to gasp audibly. Corrin’s mouth hung open like a fish as he struggled to breathe around the obstructive lump in his throat.

“Uh…” he stammered stupidly, drinking in the sight of his one night of passion like he was a man dying of thirst.

“Very pleasant to meet you, Prince DeMarco,” his once-lover said. “I am Prince Adrian Cadence of the Unseelie court.” He grabbed Corrin’s lifeless hand and laid a lingering kiss across his knuckles. Corrin jerked back his hand as if he’d been burned.

“It’s a pleasure,” Corrin said, clearing his throat to get the husky timbre out of it. He sounded breathless to his ears.

“Oh no,” the Unseelie prince said. “The pleasure is all mine.”

* * * *

Richard stared at the Unseelie emissary in shock. It was him. The man was identical to Corrin’s paintings. There were at least fifty paintings portraying him that were propped in the hallway outside Corrin’s painting room alone. The guard studied the Unseelie. Why did he seem so damn familiar?

Understanding dawned as the man smirked.
Good goddess
. Rage lit his insides like a match. So
he’d
become a prince after his exile. He’d changed so much since Richard had last seen him but there was no mistaking that devilish expression. Adrian had torn his family apart before his exile. Richard hated the man with a passion born of a long time grudge.

Was it a coincidence that it was him? Did Corrin have some of his mother’s gift of the future? He observed the way Corrin paled impossibly as the man came closer to him. He looked downright terrified. I’m keeping an eye on you
,
Richard thought to the Unseelie prince, even though he couldn’t hear him.
And I’m going to discuss this with Gael. If you’re here for mischief, you are going to be in trouble.
He just hoped he’d be able to keep his temper in the meantime. The man was a plague. He had to protect the prince from that, whatever means were necessary.

* * * *

Adrian couldn’t believe his good fortune. Corrin himself had come out to meet him. He allowed himself a little bit of a smug smile as Corrin nearly swallowed his own tongue greeting him. Adrian had been upset but determined not to let the greatest thing to happen to him in over a year pass him by. He’d hunted down Corrin’s two human friends only to be told he’d already left. He’d fled from New Orleans, cutting off his vacation almost five days early to avoid his Unseelie lover.

“You know he’s terrified of exile,” Mariah had said. “What he doesn’t understand is that he’ll never fit into that pure white world his parents belong to. He’s been wanting what you gave him for a long time now. If you hurry you may be able to catch him at the airport. The way he talked about you…He wants you as much as you want him. He needs what you have to offer more than he realizes.”