All the Wicked Things

Chapter 16

The sun was not shining the next day. In fact, I would have slept straight through the morning had it not been for Elric's nipping at my neck and ear lobe, trying to entice me awake. I playfully swatted his arm away and pulled the covers up over my head. He followed me under, tickling me as he placed gentle kisses up my spine.

"Stop...stop," I giggled. His fingers were relentless.

"Not until you say it."

"I won't! You can't make me!"

"Say it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Never!"

"Abigail," he said, elongating the last syllable for theatrics.

But I could never deny him, hearing my name on his lips, and he knew it. I sighed and said, "King Elric is the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on."

"Annddd?" he cooed.

"And...I love him...ridiculously, fantastically love him."

Elric leaned down and kissed my nose. We spent the rest of the dreary morning rolling around in the sheets before taking a warm, much-needed bath. Once we were dressed and graced the rest of the castle with our presence, Elric was called away by his council: Leo, Nikolai and Raban. It seemed urgent and I didn't want to pry so I took my leave to the courtyard.

The courtyard was empty today, and part of me was glad for that—at least the questioning eyes would not be on me. I wandered through the large area, kicking pebbles and admiring the yellow and orange and red leaves on the trees. In another month or so they'd all be gone, I thought. The forest would become a barren wasteland. But at the moment, even my favorite twisted beech tree was looking particularly festive with its vibrant colors, and I decided that if it stayed like this, I would bring my sketchbook out here this afternoon and draw it.

I took my time as I walked over to the stables. Pyre was in his stall, pawing at the straw padding on the floor.

"Hello handsome," I said, reaching my hand through the bars on the stable.

He snorted a small spat of fire and steam, as if in reply, before burying his nuzzle into my palm. I still wasn't one hundred percent comfortable with the fire-breathing beast, but I knew he meant me no harm. He was beautiful—in the way that something so powerful and dangerous is beautiful. His black coat was shiny and sleek, and his long black mane and tail flowed off his body like a shadowy curtain. Though I was no horse expert, by any means, I'd suffer a guess that Pyre was a Friesian—strong, sloping shoulders; large, chiseled muscles; and the telltale tuft of hair that draped over the edge of his coronet.

In the stall next to Pyre was the beautiful white mare that I rode on occasion. She was a magnificent beast, completely white except for a small circle of black around her left eye. She looked as though she stepped out of an old Western, the prize horse of a Native American warrior. I called her Aureola. It was Spanish for halo, and that's exactly what the circle around her eye looked like—a halo. She whinnied at me as I pulled an Adam's rotter from my pocket—her favorite snack. I passed one through the bars of the stall to her, and pulled another from my pocket for Pyre.

I stood there watching the two creatures eat their rotten apples as I pondered. It was exactly one week away from All Hallow's Eve. One week from the anniversary of me falling through the portal and into this strange land and this strange time. It was a peculiar feeling to long for my home and to feel at the same time as though I was already there—where I was supposed to be. I missed my father and Aunt Meredith terribly, but if I was being honest with myself, the thought of leaving Elric cut deeper and truer than their absence ever could.