The Unicorn Thief by R. R. Russell

Author:R. R. Russell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2014-03-13T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Ben’s old room was exactly as he’d left it—except that somebody had tidied it up and kept it clean all these years. The same bed with its deep blue comforter, a rich color fit for a prince. A prince he’d never wanted to be. He’d jumped on it like a child of the wilderness. He remembered begging Griffin to join him. But Griffin was too princely to stoop to that level.

His father had stretched out on that bed next to him at night, after his mother had tucked him in and kissed him, when Ben begged him to stay a few more minutes, just the two of them. He’d tell Ben stories about the old days, about herding, about wild unicorns. Stories his mother didn’t approve of.

“I want to be a herder like you, Father,” Ben would say. Then his father’s smile would fade. Sometimes he’d remind Ben, “Your mother used to be a herder too.”

Ben always found it hard to believe the stories about his mother herding. They were great stories, but it was like they were about someone else.

“This was your room?” Twig’s question was near a whisper, but it startled Ben out of his memories.

“Yes. I haven’t been here since I was small. Since I ran away to find my father.”

“So…I guess we’re supposed to get dressed. Do you think there’s any girl’s clothes in there?” Twig pointed at the wardrobe. Its doors were painted with twin unicorns, leaping so that their horns touched where the doors met.

Ben opened the wardrobe. Little suits hung there, freshly laundered and perfectly pressed. Had he really been that small? Had his mother really thought he’d stayed that small? More likely she’d simply ordered the maids to keep his room ready when he’d first disappeared, then never given the wardrobe another thought or the maids another direction about it. Ben pushed the child’s clothes aside. A new suit of clothes, just his size, hung on the other side. It was far too fancy for his liking, but at least it was green, and not some garishly bright combination that would make him look like a walking flower. But what about Twig?

As if in answer, someone rapped briskly on the door.

“Come in,” he said.

Neal stood guard at the door as a young maid entered with a pale blue gown draped over her arm. “For the young lady,” she said curtly.

Twig made no move to take the clothes, so Ben swept them out of the maid’s hands. He gave her a good glare for turning her nose up at Twig.

Once they were alone again, Ben pointed to the dressing screen in the corner, a silverwood frame draped in heavy tapestry. “You can change over there, Twig. I’ll dress out here.”

Putting on those clothes felt like putting on someone else’s skin. A false self he’d fought to shed all those years ago. He’d never felt he’d belonged here in the castle. Neither had Darian. He’d always known that. Was that why Ben had felt the same way? Because he was his father’s son?

He couldn’t stay here.

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