Out in the Open

It was late, and Poppy was tired.

She nullified the levitation spell and allowed Magick for the Predisposed to slap down onto the duct floor. It’d taken Poppy well over an hour to find her way back, not including the twenty minutes of brainstorming a way to return with the book in tow.

It was completely unfair that she, possibly the only person in the library, was unable to check out a book. So she was borrowing it in her own way. She planned on returning it, of course, but that would only be after she memorized all the spells and recipes the book held.

It couldn’t possibly hurt anyone if she were to keep Magick for the Predisposed for a short, indefinite amount of time… it wasn’t like any of the giants would find it useful anyway. This was how Poppy reasoned with herself to shoo away feelings of guilt for having stolen a book.

Not that she hadn’t been stealing food on a weekly basis for over three years, but that was that and this was this. Food was essential for survival, but taking this book came from Poppy’s own selfish desires. Surely, she could work a way in her mind to tell herself learning spells would greatly increase her chances of survival, but this was also just her making herself feel better.

Poppy slid her hand across the treated leather cover with hardly-restrained zeal. There were limitless possibilities now that she knew books such as these still existed. So long as there was magic flowing through her veins, there were countless opportunities laid out before her.

She could even change her size into that of a giant’s, although temporarily. Still, just the thought of being able to step out into the world and communicate with others regularly was such a grand and preposterous idea that Poppy felt butterflies fluttering within her stomach.

This was the end of her loneliness.

The room was dark below, save for blue moonlight entering through the paneled windows and leeching onto the floor. Normally the prince would be asleep by this point, but perhaps he was still awake in his room. She decided to be as quiet as possible.

She descended from the vent as she normally would, carefully floating to the floor like a dandelion seed. She decided it’d be best to leave the book in the air vent, so as to prevent the prince from finding it. Although he doubtlessly knew of her midday excursions due to her blunder today, she figured it’d be best to keep the book secret.

The moment her feet hit the floor, she felt the uncomfortable presence of someone watching her. Poppy squinted her eyes and looked around, her vision not yet adjusted to the lack of her glowing ball. Green eyes caught the moonlight, looking directly at her.

The prince watched her, and for an instant Poppy believed he wasn’t there at all, sitting at the end of the couch. However, after what was too long a time, he reached toward the lamp atop the side-table and pulled its chain.

Golden light swarmed the room and Poppy blinked against the sudden onslaught to her pupils. The prince remained sitting there, observing her with that keen, unreadable gaze. He looked tired, with bruise-like circles beneath his eyes.

Poppy opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the prince beat her to the chase. “It’s late,” he spoke.

She looked down, looked back up. Heard the constant ticking of the grandfather clock, similar to some kind of countdown. It unnerved her. “I fell asleep.” Her excuse sounded lame, but it was the truth.

The prince’s eyes flashed. “You fell asleep? Where? Up there?” He pointed to the ceiling. Clearly, he was angry. “Or perhaps somewhere a person could find you? You do realize what would happen if you were found, right?”

Poppy pressed her lips together. “Yes, I do.”

“Well then, I must say I’m disappointed. Because let me tell you, if anyone but me had seen you in the kitchen that day, you wouldn’t still be alive to recall it. I would have hoped that since you realized this, you would be more careful.” His eyes were sharp enough to pierce her, and Poppy couldn’t help but look away. It was painful to stare back.

“I never meant to fall asleep,” she muttered while looking at the floor. “It was an accident.”

“Accident or not, your life is not something you should take so lightly. You think I don’t realize what you’ve been doing these past few weeks, but I’m well aware of your shenanigans. Practicing magic and disappearing into the vents? Not to mention your leg!” He gestured to her ankle. “I’m pretty sure your limping around has all been an act too. Am I wrong?”

A moment. She shook her head.

He sighed and leaned back, covering his eyes with a hand. “I thought so. I knew some time back what you were up to, but I didn’t say anything because I wanted you to tell me yourself. I hoped we were getting to open up to each other more, but I suppose I was wrong. You don’t trust me.”

“That’s not--!” Poppy hesitated “--true. I am growing to trust you, but what you don’t understand is that it’s hard for me. I can’t simply open up to people, much less tell them everything about myself.”

She squeezed her hands together and the prince watched, waited. His silence seemed to goad her on. “I just,” she began, “don’t have trust for people in general anymore. After my family abandoned me, it’s very difficult for me to go back to how I was before. I’ve been alone for a very long time, you know.”

Poppy felt pathetic, having to explain this out loud, but for some reason she didn’t want the prince angry at her. Or for him to think she didn’t trust him. She couldn’t explain to herself why she felt this way either.

The prince thought about this and nodded. “I do understand that. It’s my own selfishness that was speaking just now, so I apologize for that. However, this doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been careless. What if someone saw you while you were sleeping?”

“I was hidden,” she argued.

“Still,” he said and leaned forward once more, hands tented in front of him. “If you can’t promise me that you’ll be more careful, I’ll be unable to continue letting you go. I’ll have wire netting put over the vents if need be.”

A flare of anger heated up within Poppy. “No one is asking you for your protection,” she seethed. “I never even wanted to be here!”

If something had merely flashed in the prince’s eyes before, now there were green flames in his irises. She’d never seen him this angry before, much less so obvious about it.

“So what do you want?” the prince demanded. “To return to that cold, desolate room with nobody to keep you company? All alone?” He flinched, like he said something he hadn’t meant to.

Poppy’s heat turned to cold. “You saw the guestroom?”

He looked away from her, his expression grim, but he nodded.

She wasn’t sure what to say. Poppy was filled with a mixture of both anger, for him not telling her, and embarrassment, because he saw how she used to live. The rags she wore for clothes, and the furniture made of others’ trash. The useless yet priceless baubles she’d found and kept for no reason in particular. It probably looked like she’d stolen them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Poppy asked, stuck between the heat and cold.

He clenched his jaw and Poppy could see the muscles working beneath his skin. “I didn’t want you thinking about your old life anymore. I wanted you to forget about that room and live here,” he admitted with a forced tone, not looking at her. “It’s not like there was much to miss anyway. The way you were living was not fit for someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she questioned, lethalness beneath the calm. “I think that lifestyle was perfect for someone like me. A thief and someone worth abandonment. Why do you care so much about me, Prince? Do I remind you of someone? Perhaps I look like a past lover.” Poppy’s tone was verging on cruel at this point, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was like a different person entirely had exposed itself within her, and was now shedding her old skin.

“Actually, this is great, because there are plenty of questions we’ve simply left unanswered between the two of us. How about we unload right here and now? What do you say, Prince?” Poppy’s smile was wicked. “Let me start first. Why am I here?”

The prince’s expression was grim. He also looked slightly pissed off, probably from one of Poppy’s cynical accusations. He hadn’t commented on any of them though.

“I’m a resourceful person,” the prince said. “While I was curious about you at first, I also thought about how I could use you. I--” he hesitated “--wanted you to spy on some people for me. I also wanted to know about your heritage.”

Poppy furrowed her brows and went to ask a follow-up question, but the prince held up his hand. “A question for a question. It’s my turn.” Poppy closed her mouth and jerked her head.

He cleared his throat. “Why were you abandoned?”

“Because I’m a fairy without wings. A pixie,” Poppy said with the emphasis of a cuss word. A brand. “We’re looked down upon and rejected from pursuing magic. Since we are born without wings, our magic accumulates in other ways, so at a young age we’re often unstable, as our powers decide how to free themselves.

“Due to this, from the time I was born, I was typically kept locked away. They’d occasionally drain my blood in order to keep the magic in my veins from growing too potent. It wasn’t until the age of five I was able to perform the smallest, most basic spell in order to release and control my magic.” She flexed her fingers. “But that was the only spell I was permitted to learn or use. Anything else was deemed too dangerous.”

“Why do you need a spy?” Poppy countered without waiting for a reaction. The prince’s expression had flickered with pity and she couldn’t bear to see it.

He was looking directly at her now, actually seeing her instead of avoiding her gaze. “My father favors my brother to take the throne, despite the fact that I'm the eldest and the heir. He hates that I remind him of my mother, and so he resents me for it. My brother is easier to manipulate, too, so my father wouldn’t have to worry about him taking any actions he wouldn’t like.”

The prince ran his fingers through his pale hair. Despite his haggardness and exhaustion, or perhaps because of it, he looked handsome in that moment.

“I wanted you to go through the vents and see if you could find any dirt on my father or brother. I hoped making you feel like you owed me would guilt you into doing it, but then I realized I actually did enjoy your company and no longer wished to take advantage of your feelings. This was a while ago, mind you. I’ve actually been battling with the idea of requesting this of you, preparing myself for whichever answer you give me

“Finally, I found myself pushing off the question,” he admitted and clicked his tongue. “Tonight really almost sent me over the edge. I thought you’d been found out, and I’d been wondering why I ever thought asking you to spy for me would be a good idea.”

Poppy wondered at all he’d said. So he really did have ulterior motives in the beginning. Poppy had guessed as much, and felt satisfied for not completely falling for his good charms. She didn’t feel good, though.

“How long have you lived here?” the prince asked.

“As long as I can remember,” she promptly answered. “Although it wasn’t until a bit more than three years ago that I started living alone. Before that, my family lived in the gardens. It wasn’t until after they left that I realized travelling between the gardens and the kitchens would take far too long without wings, so I moved into the castle. Not to mention, I didn’t have the kind of spells to keep me warm outside in the winter.”

“What was your mother like?” she returned.

This question caught the prince off-guard. He hesitated and sighed. “I don’t remember much myself because I was very young when she died. Although, I do recall that we shared the same eye color. My hair is also a closer shade to hers than my father’s, although his silver hairs are beginning to make us look more alike.” He chuckled humorlessly.

“She was willowy and elegant. Everyone loved the empress, in some cases even more than they loved the emperor. This helped fuel my father’s disdain for her, but I don’t believe this is why he hated her so. There were rumors that her blood was a bit… muddy. These rumors led against my father’s beliefs and the overall image of what he stood for.”

A connection formed in Poppy’s mind. “Prince… why did you want to know what my heritage was?”

The prince didn’t admonish her for asking two questions in a row. “I don’t like how you’re so far away,” he said. It was scary how natural it was for him to lay down his hand and for her to walk onto it. She got off onto the armrest of the couch and here they were able to easily look at each other.

And make weighing each other’s reactions simpler, Poppy thought with little enthusiasm.

The prince was still wearing his day clothes, but his top several buttons were undone and his tie was loose around his neck. It was a pattern of green and gold vines, and it went brilliantly with his eyes. Most likely a strategic piece chosen by whoever tailored his clothing. Poppy could imagine several people being involved in the planning of the crown prince’s wardrobe. After all, how could the man himself possibly find enough time to pick out and purchase his own clothes?

“The reason I asked that is because I don’t have much knowledge on the world of magic,” the prince explained. He folded and unfolded his fingers. Poppy sat down on the armrest and crisscrossed her legs. Waited patiently for the rest of his explanation.

“The rumors I mentioned, against my mother that is, were that her blood was muddled with magic. She was a quarter elven, to be more exact.”

Poppy felt her eyes widen, but hid any other reaction. “Oh,” she said. “Then that would make you…” she trailed off.

“One-eighth elven, yes.” He shook his head and looked off across the room. “This is the first time I’ve ever spoken of it since I argued with my father about it years ago. Well, it was more of a screaming match in which he accused me of being that fucking bitch’s magical whelp, but he was also under the influence so I try not to take it to heart too much.”

A chill went up Poppy’s spine. She’d never heard the prince say something so cruel before, even if he was only recalling what someone else said. His current expression could cut through steel, and she was thankful he’d diverted his gaze. He looked so cold. Hurt, even.

She felt for him. It seemed that both Poppy and the prince had been denied by their parents. A warm kernel flickered within her, not like the rage she felt earlier, but she couldn’t exactly identify it. It wasn’t a bad feeling.

“Since my mother died when I was so young, I thought I’d never find out more about her. Not to mention, without her I felt ostracized. My siblings were born from different mothers, so I never knew anyone else who had magic in their blood.” Their eyes met. “With you around, I don’t feel so lonely.”

Poppy swallowed. Her face felt hot. “You’ve made me feel less lonely too,” she said, embarrassed.

The prince smiled and his dimples revealed themselves. It was like the frost had melted. “That makes me happier than you can imagine.”

Poppy stood up and set her hands on her hips. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

He scrunched his brows. “Do what?”

She scoffed. “Spy on your brother and dirtbag of a father, of course. But I won’t do it for free! I demand pay for my efforts, and please acknowledge I’m not cheap.”

“Dirtbag?” he snickered, his eyes bright. “Yes, I suppose that is a suitable expression for a man such as him. A convictable one, too.”

Poppy rolled her eyes. “What he doesn’t hear can’t be used against us.”

“That’s not a good way of thinking,” the prince pointed out. “Keep in mind that the emperor has eyes and ears everywhere. My chambers are safe, of course, but no matter where you go outside these walls, even the air ducts, must be treated like enemy territory.”

He paused. “I’m still unsure whether it’ a good idea for you to spy--”

“Well, that’s not up to you anymore anyway,” Poppy waved him off. "I’ve already heard the job description, so I expect payment for my labor.”

The prince screwed his lips--he was trying not to smile. “What would you like, Fairy?”

She smiled. “I’ll have to think about it, but I have something in mind.”

“Going to keep me hanging, are you?” he huffed out a laugh. “How typical of you. I must say I’m intrigued, though.”

“That’s the plan.”

He raised an amused brow but didn’t respond. Then, “Fairy, I feel as though these pet names of ours are no longer suitable. I’ve been fairly patient, but I think it’s far past time you finally tell me your name.”

“Oh. I hadn’t already done that?”

“Definitely not. Lest, I would have been calling you by your name.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you’re worthy enough of knowing it. But keep in mind that I hardly ever give my name out to people with ranking less than that of a crown prince.”

He smirked. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“Good. My name is Poppy.”

“Poppy,” he repeated, as if testing how it felt. “I like it. No last name?”

“I dropped it three years ago,” she said determinedly. “Notice how I was also named after a highly toxic flower. My parents were sadists, I say.”

“Not necessarily,” he responded. “I mean, yes, they sound like awful people, but the poppy is actually a beautiful flower. The fiery yet elegant red color suits you. Not to mention, some people would say instead of toxicity, it’s better known for being a desirable drug.”

Poppy felt as red as her namesake at that moment. The prince observed her shade of pink and burst out laughing. “I’m teasing you,” he pointed out between shuddering breaths.

She frowned at him but couldn’t help the corners of her mouth from twitching. It seemed that she and the prince had finally broken this wall between them. Perhaps this warm kernel within Poppy had been a connection.