Fire Rises

Archer

When I awoke I immediately noticed the buzzing in my body had grown from the night before. It didn’t feel like poison though. It felt kind of… good. Not like I was a good person, but like the feeling was pleasurable. So, probably not a heart attack or poison. Definitely not sleep deprivation, given I had just experienced the best rest of my entire life. 

I started considering other possibilities when there was a quiet knock on the door and Clara entered. “Good morning, Eve! The prince has requested your attendance at breakfast. He said to dress for the day, though. He would like to show you the kingdom after you eat.”

“Good morning, Clara,” and I meant it. The morning was good. Aside from the unexplainable tingles there wasn’t much to complain about. I was no longer in the Dark Place, had eaten a full meal last night, made a friend, slept like it was my job, and was about to eat AGAIN for the second time in a twelve hour span. Pretty solid morning in my book. 

I entered my bathroom ready to start my day. The bathroom’s interior was exceptionally gorgeous, even with the pastels.

Oh lord have mercy, listen to yourself! These people are making you soft! Pastels? Really? But, yes, really, they were perfect in this room and this room only. The clawfoot tub was large enough to justify a small pool party. The marble countertops that housed the sink and vanity carried on straight down to the floor. The floor was heated to just the right temperature at all times. The large fluffy towels and robe were all I wanted to wear all day. And then there was the shower. There were eleven shower heads. ELEVEN. For a medieval castle, this bathroom was far beyond its years. The pastel pink walls would have been only a small price to pay, if I hadn’t actually thought they complemented the space so nicely. 

I took a bath and dressed in something that Clara swore was casual. I eyed myself in the mirror and decided my new friend was insane. I was in a royal blue short sleeve velvet dress that hugged my body until my waist before flaring out. I had panty hose on, ballet slippers, and a sapphire and diamond encrusted necklace that hung just low enough to meet the scoop neckline of the dress. Clara had so confidently placed a blackhead with a diamond brooch flower on my head. It seemed to now be mocking me in the mirror. I looked ridiculous and even this stupid headband knew it. 

Besides the outfit being off brand, to say the least, my fully tattooed arm was on display for anyone to see. Maybe no one would realize the depictions were of all the evil I had unleashed into the world, but I still knew and it bothered me. At very least, the pictures were scary and that didn’t seem like a nice thing to waltz around town with.

I took the necklace off and switched it out for the choker I had worn here. I swapped the white panty hose for black tights and pulled my boots on instead of the silly little slippers.

Much better. I would be much more comfortable in this. Clara giggled, but when I looked I could see she wasn’t laughing at me, but with me. ‘Princess’ wasn’t exactly her aesthetic either. This, however, was a compromise. 

She saw me eyeing my still naked arm and offered another dress in the same color and style, but instead of velvet, it was chiffon. It had sheer, billowing sleeves that didn’t hide my tattoos completely, but would keep people from looking too closely.

“I know it doesn’t make a difference, but for the record, I think your arm looks cool.”

“It isn’t.” I looked down, not wanting to scare her with my eyes. I was sure they were glowing.

“Did you get the whole thing done at once? That must have hurt so bad!” She didn’t mean to pry; she was just understandably curious. I silently debated ignoring the question, but decided that a friend would share this secret. 

“No, I get a new one every so often,” my voice softened to a whisper, “I don’t get to choose when I get them.”

“Oh… then who chooses?” I really didn’t want to talk about my arm. It gave me so much anxiety to even think about it. In the Dark Place I didn’t mind as much, but I still didn’t like it. I trusted Clara though. I knew that it was still all too possible to scare her, but I trusted that she would never be scared away. At least not by something like this.

“Maeve- my mother- seems to think of it as some kind of reward. Whenever I’d do something she was particularly pleased by I would ‘earn’ one of these bad boys. That’s the only way to get a tattoo in the Dark Place. Most people see it as an honor, but… they’re wrong. I hate it.” She was fighting herself not to give me that look that I hated so much. That fight seemed to have been won when realization seemed to dawn on her.

“They’re stories. They’re pictures of what you did. You made your mom proud.” None of what she said was a question, but the last part surprised me a little bit. Of all the things I had thought of my mother, ‘proud’ of me never made the list. Disgust ran through my body. I never wanted to do anything that vile woman would deem as worthy of her admiration.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat. The tightness choked me and smoke started pouring from my nostrils.

Clara took a step forward instead of back and placed a hand on my right arm. The one without the proof of my inner evil. 

“Eve, it’s okay. You did what you had to. No one needs to know where these came from if you don’t want to share that piece of your history. Without the backstory they’re just cool tattoos!” She was staring at the smoke coming from my face, “But maybe don’t let anyone see this,” she gestured to the smoke, “this might earn you more than a few funny looks.” Clara giggled and just like that she had brought me back down from my anger. She wasn’t judging me for any of my oddities. She was my friend. A friend who was already really good at knowing how to talk me down. 

“Honestly, I don’t know what the f**k this is.” I waved my hand through the smoke causing it to dissipate. “It happened for the first time last night at dinner.”

“Hmm… it is interesting. What about your eyes?”

I shrugged my shoulder and casually answered, “Dragon.” Clara wasn’t going to let that answer go like the royal family had the night before.

“Um excuse me, what? Dragon? You’re a dragon? And you’re just going to casually drop that into conversation?”

“I don’t actually know. That’s just what Maeve always says. I guess it makes sense with the smoke now, too.” Clara’s face told me I was still being entirely too cavalier about the dragon bombshell. I quickly added, “My brother’s eyes glow, too, so it’s not that weird.” She raised her eyebrows telling me that that did not, in fact, make it any more normal.

“Uh-huh. Sure. I guess it’s not that weird.” She rolled her eyes and opened the door for me. “Wait, so you can, like, turn into a dragon?”

“I wouldn’t know. Our powers were suppressed under the mountain so I wouldn’t have been able to shift.” 

“But your eyes still glowed.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s just some sort of residual power leftover? Who knows. You should see Lucian’s eyes though! They’re bright-”

“Lucian? Whose Lucian?” She had stopped walking and turned to face me. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed. 

“My brother. Why?”

“What? I… I don’t know. I just- whew- we need to go to breakfast.”

“Okay... I might be a dragon, but you’re definitely the one being weird now.” I side eyed her as she still stood frozen and breathed too quickly. “Clara? What’s up? You’re like hyperventilating. Are you good?” 

“What? Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just… I don’t know. Hmm. Strange. Let’s go.” She started moving forward but still seemed to be lost in thought. Whatever had distracted her had kept her from probing me any further so I dropped the issue. 

As we walked to breakfast I decided to change the topic of conversation to something light hearted. “Clara, what do you do all day at the castle if I leave?”

She looked at me like I had two heads. 

Fuck, is that the cause of the tingles? Am I growing a second head? 

Her answer made the thought disappear as quickly as it had come. “No one has asked me that. Ummm, it depends on the day. Today I will go to the market and pick up more bread. We are running a little low,” oops, that may be my fault, my self-blame was quickly replaced with gratitude when I realized she was probably the one that stocked the bread that saved the prince’s gorgeous fingers the day prior. I knew I was right for adoring the person responsible for those phalange saving snacks. “Then I’ll probably pick out your clothes for dinner, clean your bedchamber, I think they need another person in the library for the weekly dusting today, the princess has a ball later this week so a few of us are helping with preparations for that…” my mind started to wander as she spoke. How many hours did this girl work? Did she ever have free time? How does a good royal family work their staff so heavily? 

“Clara, do you ever have a day off?” 

She looked a little offended when she answered, “I have half days on Monday and Thursday,” she must have misread my incredulous look because she quickly added, ”but don’t worry someone else will fill in for me during those times.” 

“Girl, I come from a place where torture is the norm, but your work schedule is a special brand of evil.” She gave me a look that said I should move ‘evil’ to the ‘don’t say’ side of the mental list I was keeping.

“It’s really not that bad! I get to live in the castle and I met you! We even had wine last night, so I don’t mind the crazy hours.” That gave me an idea.

“Clara, you’re my handmaiden, right?”

“Yes,” she didn’t look like she trusted me at that moment.

“And you have to do what I say, right?”

“Y-yes… but-”

“Clara, I demand you take the rest of the day off.” She looked shocked. I didn’t think she looked thankful, but she didn’t look disappointed either. 

“Um… okay, what should I do with this day off?”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing today, how am I supposed to know what you should do? Um, OH! I know! Let’s play a game! Whatever you do, make the goal of the day to do something interesting. I’ll do the same and tonight we can see who did the more interesting thing?” Competition was second nature to me. Even the mention of it made me suddenly feel in my element. Clara’s face lit up. I could see she was now thankful for the direction I had given to my very vague initial demand.

“You’re on!” We arrived at a different set of double doors than the ones I had eaten behind the night before. “The breakfast parlor,” she answered my unasked question. “See ya later! Have fun!”

I gave her a quick wave and wink before once again laying eyes on the prince and once again almost fainting from the shock of this man’s existence.

Who made this creature? I knew the answer to that. I had met his parents the night before. It still didn’t stop me from internally asking the question, though. He was just so perfect. When he noticed my presence he turned dramatically. He jutted his chin forward and placed his balled fists on his hips again. 

He bobbed his head a bit as he spoke. “Goodday, Eve.”

“Goodday, your highness.” Excellent start! This is getting easier. Say something else, I urged myself. “What’s for breakfast?” That seemed like a normal, nice thing to say. Two for two, yas b***h!

“The chef is bringing pastries and fruit. Your tea is waiting for you here,” he pulled out my chair for me and I tried my best to be graceful as I sat down. He scooted in my chair and I was beaming at myself for how well this was going. I wasn’t sure what fruit was, but I was excited to find out.

“Thank you, Charming.” I gave him my best smile.

“Please, we’re friends now! You can just call me Charlie.” 

Um, what the hell? He has a real name? And it's that? That is not the name that goes with… him. I was floored, and my face must have said as much. 

One of his eyebrows was c****d while he leaned forward to address my silent question. “My real name is Charming II, but it’s also my dad’s name and I refuse to go by Junior. I mean, does this face look like a ‘Jr.’ to you?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me before continuing. “It gets a little confusing. A childhood friend nicknamed me Charlie to make it easier,” I couldn’t help but assume that friend was Sophia. That girl clearly had no respect for the perfection that was this man.

“Hmmm, it’s just a nickname?”

He smiled and answered with an eyebrow still c****d, “Yeah.”

“Can I come up with a different nickname?”

He looked a little shocked, but not offended. Then he looked curious. “What did you have in mind?”

Adonis, Mr. Perfect, Sexiest Man Alive, Cocky as all Hell, none of the things I had called him in my mind seemed appropriate to say out loud now that I was being directly asked. The chef brought in our breakfast while I was thinking. I took a piece of what I assumed was fruit and popped it in my mouth. I was not expecting the rush of juice and sweetness that filled my mouth. I almost giggled at the novelty of it, but then I choked. The prince leapt from his seat to help, but didn’t seem to know how. Instead he just stood there with his hands out to the side as if he was trying to corral me. I swallowed the fruit without assistance and caught my breath.

Smooth. Real smooth! I tried to move past the incident by redirecting his attention back to the nicknames. With my face still red and my breathing still labored, I did my best to regain some semblance of dignity.

“Well, you are a prince,” and dreamy beyond reason, I silently added, “So you need a good strong name. I supposed Charles would be a more serious version of Charlie, but I don’t really love that one either.”

His mouth quirked into a side smile as he leaned towards me with slightly pursed lips, “And what name would you love, Eve?” I almost choked again. There was no way I was going to live through a full day with this man, especially if he kept being so damn charming.

I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the flush in my cheeks, “Um, maybe, something like…” He was still looking at me with that adorable half smile. My brain seemed to be short circuiting under the current conditions.

Luckily he saved me by interjecting, “What do you think of the name Archer? I’ve always thought that name was cool. Do you want to see if that sticks?” With the way he was looking at me he could have just gone with Charlie and I would have been content. Hell, he could have told me to call him ‘Steaming Pile of Gargoyle s**t’ and he still would have made it sound sexy.

“Archer.” I repeated. 

What a bizarre name to pick for yourself. I was into it, though. “I’m into it.”

“But do you love it?” His eyes were trained on mine and I couldn’t think of words. I shook my head trying to come back to reality.

“Sure. It’s great.” I meant it to sound confident but it came out a squeak. “So, Archer, what are our plans for the day?”

He tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh at my quick use of his new nickname before diving into our very well thought out itinerary. I tried another piece of fruit and managed to avoid asphyxiating myself this time. The more he spoke, the more I ate. By the sounds of it, I was going to need a lot of fuel to make it through this day.