The Poison Prince

XYLIA had never seen a thriving town before. Adavale stunned her. She found herself staring slack jawed when they passed through the iron gates and were instantly engulfed in throngs of people rushing about their daily business. Merchants hollered in the street, trying to lure in customers to purchase their goods. Some argued with each other, fighting over who had the better product and who was trying to con people out of their coin. The air was thick with salt from the sea which surrounded three quarters of the town, and every now and then Xylia's nose picked up the distinct smell of fish, but when she looked towards the harbour she was amazed by how many kinds she saw in nets and spread out in trays for people to buy.
Her unease was not unnoticed by the prince. "Adavale is one of Lyris' most prosperous towns outside of the capital. Merchants seem to do well here, and the fisherman make a good profit from their daily hauls. Although everyone seems to smell of fish no matter what they do." He wrinkled his nose as an old man in overalls walked by reeking of pungent tuna.
"It's making me hungry," Xylia mumbled, folding her arms over her grumbling stomach before flicking her gaze up to the still disgusted prince, "you ate the last of the rabbits I had two nights ago and didn't let me hunt again."
"There was no time for it." Taiden scrubbed a hand through his unkempt hair under the broad hood of his cloak, "but I am sorry. I guess I've grown accustomed to three course dishes and sides with my meat. We've had only rabbit and berries since we left your village."
A faint smirk ghosted across Xylia’s rosy lips. “One night we had a vole.”
“Are those even edible?”
“Meat is meat,” she shrugged, looking back at all the variety of fish being hauled to the market, “and fish is fish, I suppose.”
“Come; we can find an inn and treat ourselves to real beds for the night.” Taiden smile at the thought of a hot bath and a room all of his own, even if it was just for one evening. The novelty of sleeping under a canopy of trees and stars had worn off all too quickly.
Xylia wavered, wrapping her arms tighter around herself as a scarlet hue crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks. “I don’t have any coin for that.” She confessed so quietly that Taiden only just caught it.
“Consider it my treat – a thank you for joining me. And while we’re at it, allow me to find a healer to examine that neck of yours. I can still see some bruising.” His eyes darkened angrily at the memory of the abuse Xylia had suffered back at Skandar’s hand.
She quickly covered herself with her cloak, adjusting the raggedy material until it concealed any bruising and scratched irritably at her throat. “I’ll be fine. It doesn’t hurt.” Xylia didn’t want to be a bother, and she had almost forgotten about the fiery wrath of Skandar. Almost. Twice since leaving the village of The Draca she had awoken suddenly in the night burning up, convinced his hand was gripping her tightly again, and twice she had been mistaken, gripped only by her cloak and sleeping several feet away from the prince. He snored, she had discovered, but she didn’t know if it was punishable to tell him that.

Taiden led her through the streets with obvious recognition of them. He kept his hood in place so as not to attract any unwanted attention from the bustling crowd. Xylia had to work hard not to let the little things distract her or she knew she’d lost him in an instant. It was near impossible though to keep her eyes on Taiden and not let them stray to the tall church spire, or the gold etchings on the shop signs. Everything in Adavale was far more ornate than she had ever seen before and she wondered why on earth things were so decorated? It looked pretty, but what purpose would it serve? Her dagger wouldn’t do a better job if there were jewels in the hilt. She was thinking about that when she knocked into someone wearing powder blue robes. The man turned sharply and once he spied her dirt stained tunic and raggedly cloak his expression turned from slightly apologetic to total disgust.
“What where you’re going, revolting urchin.” Pride, it seemed, was not exclusive to The Draca.
“Are you okay, Xylia?” Taiden was back by her side the second the man was swallowed by the ever moving crowd.
“I’m fine. Although, he called me revolting when he smelt like he’d rolled in patch of lilacs until he was one.”
“He’s sick then.” Taiden’s voice took a sombre turn and she looked up at him in confusion. She didn’t understand how lilacs were linked to sickness. “Devil Hornsbane. It’s rare, and causes a very slow, but painless death. However, the stench is your body rotting from the inside out. So those fated to die by its leaves spray themselves in the perfume of lilacs. It’s overbearing and everyone knows the truth the moment they smell it, but victims can live up to a year once the poison is consumed. Would you rather smell of flowers or your own death?”
“I’d rather take my dagger and take my life into my own hands.” Xylia said confidently, knowing full well that she wouldn’t sit back and let a poison choose when her life ended.
Taiden smiled at her sadly, admiring her boldness. “Not everyone has the strength to do that. Or the option.”
Xylia wondered if he was talking about himself, or someone he knew once before. He seemed to know a lot about it – this Devil Hornsbane – and it sparked her interest. Rumours about the prince were always circulating. His madness, his fascination with poison and all things dark. She had overheard a passing merchant in the village once talking about how his rule might be worse than the queen’s. Xylia struggled to see that now. Taiden had been helpful, although he had moments of selfishness. She had put those down to him simply not knowing any better. He had been raised in a world completely different from her own. Almost the opposite, in fact.

“Here we go! The Water Sun Inn. This should be perfect. It’s also not the main one by the town hall where I’ve stayed previously, so we should be a little more inconspicuous here.” Taiden ushered her inside and Xylia hovered uncomfortably by the bar while he negotiated two rooms and meals for the both of them.
She took the time to lower her hood at last and look around. It was quaint, not as lavish as some of the places she had seen as they walked down the busy streets. Oil lamps lit up the large room even in daylight, and the bar itself seemed to be separated into quarters by supportive columns. Groups of afternoon drinkers seemed to have claimed each area and none looked as though they had plans to intersect. Burly labourers sat closest to the bar, tankers clutched in their fists, while furthest away were the more finely dressed gentleman with glasses of tan spirts Xylia had never tried herself but had seen in The Draca’s own small bar. She was looking at an oil painting of the same harbour they had passed upon arriving at Adavale when Taiden’s voice startled her out of her thoughts.
“Two rooms at the top of the stairs. You finally get a break from me.”
“Perfect.” She was looking forward to a hot bath, which she hoped would be in her room. Even a sink would be enough to scrub the grime from her skin and wash her clothes some.
“Am I that bad?” He laughed, pretended to be offended. She had noticed he seemed a lot more jovial since arriving in a town filled with people.
They reached the top of the stairs and the rooms there. She paused for a moment, hand on the brass knob, thinking her words over. Dare she say them? It turned out she did.
“You snore.” And with that she slammed the door on the prince.

It was the first time anyone had ever slammed a door on him and he was stunned for a long moment before the laughter erupted from his chest, loud and warm. He liked it. Not once since the moment he had met Xylia had she called him “prince” or “your highness”. He didn’t actually recall her using his name at all. She hadn’t curtsied or shown him any kind of royal respect. If she had behaved this way in the heart of Lyris she probably would have been looking at the executioner’s block by now. Taiden had enjoyed it though, which surprised him. He had liked sitting on the earth, warming himself by a campfire, watching her cook her catches. He might have been able to do without her skinning them before his very eyes, but every high had its lows. A lot of the time she had been silent, walking ahead when he stumbled behind, but it was a pleasant change not to be watched by castle guards or pestered by Julius.
Taiden let himself into his room and looked at the modest space. It wasn’t much but it was more than enough for their time in Adavale. He had ulterior motives for passing through here, and he would put them into effect once night had fallen.

Across the hall, Xylia had already stripped out of her clothes and had thrown them into the basin which was now full of hot water. She had grabbed a bar of curiously pink soap, sniffed it, and recoiled when she realised it was fragranced with rose and something else she couldn’t quite place.
“Jasmine?” She asked, though there was no one around to answer her.
She shrugged and dipped the bar into the basin of water and began to scrub herself clean while her clothes soaked in the hot water. It wasn’t going to be perfect, but it would have to do. She didn’t have anything else with her besides the off white tunic and brown woollen trousers that she had spied another hole in the left knee of as she stripped them off. Xylia decided to worry about that later once her hair was free of mud.
She washed and dried herself before scrubbing down her clothes with the soap, wringing them out and hanging them out over the ledge of the open window to dry. She hoped the sea breeze might dry them a little quicker so she wasn’t trapped in her undergarments in an inn room for too long. Being alone she started to worry about her uncle. She wondered if a healer was on the way yet, or if he had even survived this long. His injuries had been catastrophic, and though she was clinging to hope she couldn’t help but be realistic about it. It would take a lot for him to be restored to full health.

A knock at her door had Xylia hastily reaching for her still damp clothes, stumbling into her trousers first and cursing the world when the button popped off them.
“Just a minute!” She tugged the tunic over her head lastly, twisting the soggy fabric into place before her hand clasped the knob and tugged.
Taiden greeted her with a beaming smile before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “You appeared to be, uh, wet.”
Xylia coughed and crossed her arms over her chest awkwardly, “I had to wash my clothes.” She noticed that he had changed into a fresh, clean outfit entirely. Of course his satchel would contain clean clothes and things a prince would need whereas she had packed for survival, not to impress.
The realisation of that fact must have dawned on Prince Taiden, because she saw his confusion dissipate and turn into obvious recognition. It did nothing for her embarrassment though. Xylia felt like more of a mutt in that moment than she had done in her entire life. She was an outcast with nothing but a poorly constructed bow and a hand-me-down dagger to her name, travelling in the temporary company of the heir to the Lyris throne.
“I’m aware it’s still early, but we were travelling for some time, and you said you were hungry...shall we eat? The innkeeper told me that they serve a hearty soup, a fish pie – of course they do – and a blackberry pie for dessert.”
Xylia blinked up at him and shook her head. “No. No, I’m not hungry.” She didn’t want to eat with him. It would only serve to remind her just how worthless she was. She wasn’t anything special and she never would be.
“Shall I have something sent up for you?” His dark eyes clouded over in confusion.
She closed her door over, moving her gaze away from his. “No. I don’t want anything.”
“Xylia-“
The door slammed in his face.

For a long time, she just lay on the bed in the silent room, staring up at the white ceiling. Xylia let the darkest of her thoughts take over, whispering painful words into her mind. The things she often ignored or told herself were lies came bubbling to the surface feeling as real as Skandar’s burning touch. More than once she wiped away angry tears as they started to fall and ignored the grumbling of her stomach as it tried to break through her stubbornness and force her to give in to the smell of food wafting up from the bar below.
The sky was black when she finally snapped herself out of it. Xylia didn’t know what did it. One minute she was still alone with the gloomiest of her thoughts and the next she was alert and back to her usual serious self. She felt guilty for how she had spoken to Taiden earlier. He hadn’t deserved her abruptness, and she was feeling painfully hungry now. She picked herself up from her bed and quietly let herself out of the dark inn room. She knocked once on Taiden’s room door, but got no response.
“Hello? It’s me,” she tried again, knocking louder this time, “Pr- I mean, Taiden?” She thought shouting ‘Prince’ might be a little too attention catching.
There was still no sound from the other side, so she gently tried twisting the knob, surprised when it gave way. Peering into the room and gripping the hilt of her dagger instinctively, Xylia found her heart racing by what she saw.
Taiden was gone.
And his cloak was folded neatly on the bed.