Chapter3
"You spit at him?!" Alondra wasbeside herself, all but chewing off her freshly manicured hot pinknails. They'd been sitting on her bedroom floor for the lastseveral hours, Alondra freaking out just as much as Gyllian was. Thevibrant pastels and Victorian style decor was a welcome distractionfrom the horrors of the morning, it was partially why she'd racedhere after getting out of the prince's manor house, surprisinglystill breathing. Gyllian had barricaded herself in Alondra'sapartment, still not entirely convinced the prince wouldn't changehis mind and send someone after her. If she might still die todayshe'd rather it be in Alondra's beautiful apartment. PrincessAbigale paid Lon very well for the job she did, it was the only wayshe was able to afford a place like this.
Alondra made her breakfast and put ona kettle the moment Gyllian arrived, as if tea would somehow sootheher nerves. When Gyllian told her what had happened Alondra dumpedout the tea and made mimosas instead.
Alondra was her best friend, eventhough they couldn't have been more different. Alondra was acute, petite blonde satyr who always did her best to make sureeveryone around her was comfortable and happy. She never had a harshword to say about anyone and her eternal optimism was annoyinglyinfectious.
Gyllian punched an incubus that waspicking on Alondra about her horns their first day of kindergarten. Gyllian had been admiring them, and how cute they looked pokingthrough her blond ringlets, wishing she had them too. It was amoment that she wished she looked more fae as a child and lesshuman. It made her angry that anyone could tease the female aboutthem and she'd punched the snotty little male right in the nose. They'd been inseparable ever since.
For the first time ever, she wasregretting her decision to join the Unseelie Court rather thanfollowing Alondra into the Seelie. Gyllian hadn't even botheredapplying to the Seelie Court. She much preferred knowing who herenemies were. When someone in the Unseelie Court didn't like you,you knew it, and that was not usually the case on the other end.
Alondra was much better at thetwo-faced, back handed politics of the Seelie court than Gyllian evercould have been. "Spit ON him." Gyllian buried her facein her hands. "I spit on the Prince!" She couldn't believeherself. "He was taking some liberties but still..."
"A 'No' probably would have servedyou better. You're lucky you weren't arrested."
"I think I'm lucky not to havebeen shot frankly. He could have had me executed."
"Thank the gods then that his egowouldn't allow him to admit he'd been bested by a female, and astudent still at that." Alondra grinned.
That wasn't quite how it happenedbut fortunately for Gyllian the idea that it could be misinterpretedas such might have saved her life.
At least she wouldn't have to facehim at all again today. It was her day off and she had no intentionof going within five miles of the barracks or the palace or his houseif she could help it. It was the only reason she'd chosen toperform this stunt this morning to begin with. Gyllian had hopedthat he would be so impressed with her resourcefulness and brazenapproach that she'd be deep in an interview process most of theday. She planned on hiding here at Alondra's for as long aspossible now, not how she had envisioned today going.
It had been how Altar got the job,getting the drop on the prince, proving he was just as good if notbetter. Everyone knew the story, how Altar had stalked the princefor days, foregoing sleep and food, waiting for an opportunity, andwhen he did, he'd gotten the prince on his back and weaponless withgun to his head. Malfinn had been so impressed he'd hired him as apersonal guard on the spot.
