Chapter One
***Colin***
Colin stumbled up the stairs, doing his best not to make noise, but in his inebriated state, it wasn’t an easy task. Even with the deep pile carpet, his heavy steps seemed to echo through the silent castle, and he was sure his parents would come out of their bedroom any second. It was ridiculous that at twenty-five, he was forced to sneak around like a child, but he was in no shape for a confrontation with them just then.
His head swimming, he made it to the top of the stairs, wincing when his stomach gurgled threateningly, and nausea nearly won. Taking shallow breaths, he made it to his bedroom door, cracked it open, and slipped inside, then collapsed on the floor in a heap. He lay there for what felt like a long time as the alcohol worked its way through his system, wondering why he’d been so stupid.
There were few things in the human world that could bring the Fae down, and alcohol was one of them. Thanks to one of his so-called friends, he’d gotten his hands on some. What followed was a bit of a blur, but he remembered just enough to know that the whole Following would be talking about it in the morning.
His stomach lurched again at the thought of what his parents would say; it would take them days and days to wind down, to get tired of badgering him about behaving better.
It was a tired subject with them, and he just couldn’t understand why they couldn’t see that he was just living a little, having some fun before he was tied to the throne. This latest escapade would hang over his head for a little longer than usual, and he’d have to try to seem really sorry, he decided, his brain beginning to clear as the alcohol finally began to wear off.
He thought about getting up but decided a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt; then he’d have a nice long bath and come up with a plan. When he finally struggled to his feet, the first thing that greeted him was the huge mess he’d left in his room when he’d dressed for the party. Even the meal he’d eaten before he left was still sitting on the table by the window, the food shriveled and slightly nauseating. His temper flared to life as he looked around the room, and it only took three steps to reach the intercom on his wall.
“Simon, you’d better be dead!” he screamed into the speaker. “Get your butt up here and explain why my room looks like this.”
When there was only silence, he pushed the button again and screamed. “Simon, you’d better get up here and fast. I want this mess cleaned up and a hot bath.”
As the seconds ticked by and the intercom remained deathly silent, Colin felt anger building deep inside him. He punched the wall and strode over to the door, filled with outrage that Simon was ignoring him, that he should be forced to come home to a mess. Throwing the door open, he began screaming Simon’s name as he stomped down the hallway.
He’d only gone a few steps when doors along the corridor began to open, and his family began to pop their heads out. When he saw his mother, he stomped over to her. “Simon hasn’t cleaned my room; my dinner dishes are still sitting there, and I want a bath,” he spat.
His father stepped between them. “Have you been drinking?” his father asked, sniffing the air.
“No, of course not,” he said, stepping back from his father to put some distance between them. “Where the hell is Simon?”
“Simon is home with his wife and their new baby, a girl, I believe,” his mother said, eyeing him suspiciously. “I told you that at breakfast this morning.”
“Then why hasn’t someone else cleaned up my room?” he asked, scowling and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Because if you will recall, your mother told you to take care of yourself,” his father said, stepping closer again, his eyes full of suspicion as well.
Colin didn’t remember her telling him that and wouldn’t have agreed if he had. “I don’t see why I have to do that. We have plenty of servants around here; just assign me another one until Simon gets back,” he said.
“Simon won’t be back for a week, and I can’t spare anyone else right now,” his mother said. “Besides, I thought it would be good for you to take care of yourself for a little while.”
Colin could only stare at his mother. “That’s ridiculous. I’m the prince. I shouldn’t have to lift a finger. I want Simon back, and I want him now; he’s a servant, and he should be serving me,” he finally said.
His parents exchanged a glance. “I’m sorry you feel that way, son, but I’m afraid Simon will be gone for the next week, and you’re on your own.”
Colin threw his hands up in the air. “This is stupid,” he said, stalking back to his room and throwing open the door. “When I’m king, things are going different: no more special treatment for the servants, no more treating them like they’re worth more than they are.”
He slammed the door hard, feeling some satisfaction in the childish gesture, then saw his room and wished he could slam it again. Instead, he walked over to the bed and shoved all the clothes onto the floor, then took his repulsive dinner tray over to the window, slid it open, and dropped it. The satisfying crash it made when it hit the ground below was almost as good as slamming the door.
***Darby***
Darby slid the key in the lock, turned it, and let the door swing open slowly so that the comforting smell of her shop would embrace her gradually. Almost as good as that first sip of coffee in the morning, she loved this moment and always paused to savor it. Turning to look out into harbor, she saw the boats teeming with tourists just beginning to make their way out of the open ocean and towards the docks.
Looking down the hill toward the pier, she was glad that she’d been able to afford a shop a little farther into the village. Small compared to some of the other businesses on the main street in town, she had just enough room to display her soaps, lotions, and perfumes. Although there was limited space for customers, the intimate feeling it gave the shop pleased them and gave her the opportunity to interact with everyone.
She was just about to close the door when her assistant and best friend, Fiona, came sliding through. “I thought we deserved a treat today,” she said, thrusting a cup into Darby’s hands.
The wonderful smell of coffee wafted up from the steam escaping from the lid. “I’ve already had three cups this morning,” she said. “Did you see the sunrise? Summer is really here.”
But she took a sip of the steaming brew, unable to stop herself. Fiona grinned at her. “I knew you couldn’t resist. Besides, we’re going to need it. You know how the first day of the season is.”
Darby groaned. “We’ll be sold out by lunch,” she said.
“I don’t know why they always insist on having such big crowds on the first day of the season,” Fiona said, taking a sip of her coffee and switching on the lights.
“It’s so they can bask in their popularity,” Darby said, heading for the stock room.
“Oh, yes, the grand parade,” Fiona said, parading around the room with her nose in the air. “The one time of the year their highnesses come out of their lofty perch in the castle.”
She laughed as Fiona continued to prance around the room. “Oh, they’re not that bad,” she finally said. “And we’d better get to work.”