We found Peter in the dining hall finishing his breakfast and conversing with a few of the older Lost Boys. He was wearing a long-sleeved tunic despite the day's warmth, and it was open at the top, revealing his chest. His hair was unkempt and his eyes twinkled as he smiled, making him look more boyish than monster.
When he spotted me, his smile grew, and he immediately left his seat to come meet me, his bare feet patting quietly across the stone floor.
I returned his smile as he pulled me into an embrace, picked me off my feet, and swung me in a circle before setting me back down and kissing me deeply.
"Good morning," he said, gazing down at me, his green eyes soft instead of sharp and scheming. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before tilting my head up and kissing me again.
"Good morning," I finally replied, feeling slightly dizzy. Between the morning's events and Peter's sweet demeanor, it felt like the world was completely backwards. Still, I tried my best to smile and seem as smitten as he looked. I slid my hands over his chest and gave him my most flirtatious smirk. "Nice of you to finally join us in the waking world, Your Majesty."
Peter's eyes twinkled and he chuckled, lacing his fingers through mine. "You left me no choice, Princess. You slipped away this morning before I could convince you to spend the day in bed with me."
I smiled and ducked my eyes, feigning the shyness I knew he loved. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what he would say if I suggested we did spend the day in bed together, but then my stomach clenched. I pushed the thought away, unsure of why it popped into my head in the first place.
Instead, I said, "I'm not sure I would be able to handle such an endeavor, Your Majesty. Last night left me… sore." I whispered the last word, and even though I knew that what I was saying was a lie, it felt dirty to say it. Every part of my skin prickled with embarrassment, and it intensified to a buzzing under my skin when Peter smirked, proud of himself.
"My apologies, Sweetheart," he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. "I'll make sure to be more gentle next time."
My breath hitched in my chest at the predatory twinkle in his eyes, my skin on fire where his fingertips began to dig into my skin.
Images of all the nights spent in Peter's tent on the Lost Boy's island flashed to the front of my mind: one candle burning next to the pile of furs that was our bed, his hands wandering over my bare skin, his breath hot on my face as he rested on top of me, kissing down my neck, across my shoulders, over my chest…
Always stopping before things went too far.
"I don't want to spoil it," he would whisper into my neck, both of us breathing heavily. "Not too soon." My head would be spinning, my skin on fire and I would feel myself wanting to melt into him and run all at the same time.
And now, standing here with him after a night that didn't actually happen, I was feeling the same way. It would be easier to melt into him, to forget, but I knew that I couldn't. It wasn't sustainable. Sooner or later, he would turn back into the monster that I knew he was, and I would go back to hating him and wanting to save myself and my kingdom.
Benj cleared his throat, bringing me back to the moment, and I felt my blush deepen. "I hate to interrupt," he said, appealing to Peter, "but I believe you two have quite the day ahead of you."
Peter turned his attention to Benj and nodded in agreement before snaking an arm around my waist and guiding me back to my seat at the table.
After pushing my chair in for me, Peter took his seat at the head of the table, and Benj took his seat at Peter's right hand. A servant girl filled my goblet with wine, and I tentatively took a sip, settling in as I listened to Benj and Peter discuss the day's plans and events. I listened carefully as they discussed what was going on within the castle, the living arrangements for the younger boys, how there weren't enough servants to take care of all the boys in a timely manner, and how they were quickly running out of breakable things to use for target practice. The list of mundane things went on, and I found my attention slipping until I heard Peter mention how he and I would be addressing the commoners later that day.
He laced his fingers through mine and rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. "What do you think, Sweetheart?"
"I—I…" I couldn't form the words. No, I didn't want to address the public, not for any reason, especially with Peter by my side. I didn't want them to see me standing at Peter's side, his hand interlaced with mine. "What about?" I finally asked.
Peter's mouth ticked up in one corner and he chuckled, bringing my knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss before he said, "Well, for starters, they should know that their princess has returned to them."
I thought about the eyes of those that had seen me when I arrived, those that had seen me drop my hood. "They do know," I stated, hoping to deter him. I took a sip of my wine, trying to act nonchalant.
"There are rumors, yes," he replied, "but a majority believe it is a ruse, a way to get them to comply." Peter and Benj shared a look, and Benj smirked. When Peter's eyes returned to me, the smirk immediately disappeared. "We should give them all peace of mind that you've returned to them, that you are safe and sound and with your king."
The wine turned rancid on my tongue.
I knew that this was coming from the moment I stepped into the throne room and saw my father's crown on his head, when he didn't immediately whisk me away on a ship back to the island he and the Lost Boys had called home the minute I was back in his possession.
I had hoped he would change his mind.
Smiling at Peter, I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table, trapping his hand between both of mine and kissing his fingers. "Of course, but…"
He arched a brow, his face suddenly guarded, anger brewing just beneath the surface that I may possibly argue or defy him.
I kissed his fingers more, doing my best to keep the fear from my voice as I pouted slightly. "When are we going home?"
Peter let go of a breath that I hadn't noticed him holding and the anger disappeared. "I thought you'd be happy to be back in your own kingdom, Sweetheart."
"I am," I reassured him, maybe too quickly. "It's just…"
"It's just, what, Sweetheart?" He asked patiently.
I let go of his hands and leaned back in my chair. "It's just not the same as our camp," I stated with a shrug of my shoulders. "I feel like a princess here." I gestured to my dress. "I don't feel like a Lost Girl."
That seemed to catch his attention. It almost seemed like it pained him to hear me say it. He leaned back in his own chair, his brows drawn together in thought. He absentmindedly traced his bottom lip.
As Peter thought about my words, it was difficult for me to sit still. I felt the need to squirm, to shift to get comfortable as I fought the itch of my constant lying. The more I spoke to Peter, the larger the web of lies became, and that meant that it would be harder to keep track as time went on.
But the more I lied, the more I had to convince Peter that everything coming out of my mouth was from the Lost Girl he thought he knew, the more I started to believe my own lies.
It wasn't that I actually wanted to leave Mystasia, but it felt strange now. The kingdom that I had known my entire life now felt foreign to me, and I worried that trying to navigate it while trying to figure out a way to bring down Pan would prove to be too much for me.
Finally, Peter turned his attention back to me, his eyes searching mine. "Mystasia is the best place for us right now," he said, and I felt my stomach drop. "I'll prove it to you. Just give me some time to think about it." He gave me a small reassuring smile, and I returned it as best I could.
Content with my response, Peter stood and leaned over to give me a soft kiss on the forehead. "Benj and I have some business to attend before addressing the commoners this evening. Take the day to rest. I expect your return to be quite the celebration."
Or quite the disaster, I thought as they made their exit.
If I had learned anything during my time with Peter and the Lost Boys, it was that my definition of disaster and their definition of celebration were exactly the same thing.
###
Sasha found me sitting out on the balcony watching the ships come into harbor. I had spent most of the afternoon watching crews unloading their goods and reloading for their next excursion, but none of the crews had returned to their ships after. They spoke to someone on the docks and then made their way into the streets, disappearing from view. When I asked Sasha about it, she said that it was an order from Peter that everyone stay and welcome the princess of Mystasia home.
"Everyone who has come to the city today is being asked to stay. All the sailors, all the merchants… No one has left through the city gates and no ship has left the harbor. I've heard they're not letting anyone leave until tomorrow."
I watched her lay out an emerald green dress and matching shoes, as well as black satin gloves and one of my most decorated tiaras. I had worn it only once to a ball my father held for the winter festival when I was just beginning to change into a woman. It had been a gift from my father, and it had made me feel like a queen.
How fitting that Peter would tarnish it.
Sasha caught me staring at the arrangement, and she asked, "Do you like it? His Majesty picked it out himself."
"Green is his favorite color," I responded without much thought. I saw her glance at me strangely, as if she had never given it much thought that Peter would have 'favorite things'. She recovered quickly, though, and continued to get things ready.
I tried to make conversation with her, but her answers were short and left no room for more questions, so I went back to watching the harbor.
My thoughts drifted across the sea to Starryview, to Nora's cooking, and the hot springs. I thought I saw a ship that looked like the Jolly Roger, but when I blinked the ship had changed. The masts weren't inky black; they were billowing and white like the clouds on the horizon. No pirate flag flew above the crow's nest, and no mermaid stared out from the ship's bow.
Eventually, Sasha began to help me get ready. We started with my hair, Sasha running a brush through it until it was soft and shiny. She left it down, but pulled the hair that would normally fall around my face back in two small braids, giving the illusion of a diadem without actually wearing one.
I cleaned my face, and Sasha rubbed rosy pink rouge onto my cheeks. Then, we carefully placed the diadem on my head, the silver laying in the nest my two braids made, before stepping into the gown.
Sasha was just finishing lacing up the back, my ribs hardly able to expand as I tried to breathe, when the door to my room burst open, the door swinging so hard and fast that it bounced off the stone wall with a dull thud!
"Harlan," Sasha hissed, her hand flying to her chest as she swore under her breath. "You scared me!"
But he wasn't looking at Sasha. As far as I knew, he didn't even realize she was in the room with me. His hazel eyes were on fire, boring into me as his jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. "Tell me it isn't true." It sounded like a plea and an accusation all in the same breath. His fists were clenched at his sides, and he looked ready to charge me, but he stayed put outside.
I shook my head, confused. "Tell you—?"
"Tell me," he seethed, finally stepping over the threshold, "that you aren't going to stand next to that monster in front of our people and declare that he is our king."
My stomach twisted as he took another step toward me, his cheeks flushed in anger that I had never seen in him before. I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn't sure there was anything I could say to fix this.
"Harlan," I said, his name a croak. I cleared my throat, and smoothed the material of my dress with my sweating palms. I ducked my head and squeezed my eyes shut until I saw bursts of color. I would not cry in front of them. Taking a deep breath, I straightened back up and tried again. "Harlan, you need to understand—"
"Understand what?" He shouted at me.
Sasha took a step toward him. "Harlan," she hissed at him, but Harlan glared at her, and she didn't take another step.
Harlan took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face before meeting my gaze again, and while his eyes still burned, he looked more broken than angry. "Don't do this, Holly. Please."
How could I make him understand?
"I don't have a choice." I had meant to sound sure of myself, to be solid in my resolve, but it sounded like I was pleading for him to understand something I didn't truly understand myself.
He looked at me, disgusted. He scoffed. "Everyone has a choice, Holly."
The anger that boiled in my belly spilled over, traveling up my throat and out of my mouth before I could stop myself. "Did Saisha tell you that?" I spat her name, but I could see that Harlan wasn't backing down. He opened his mouth to respond, to defend her, but I cut him off. "Interesting sentiment for a girl who got her tongue cut out over the last choice she made."
Sasha flinched like I had struck her, sadness flashing across her pale face before settling into her own angry scowl. Harlan's lips were pressed into a tight line, his nostrils flared as he attempted to level me with his gaze. When it didn't work, he turned on his heel, and stormed away.
Once he turned into the corridor, I turned my gaze to Sasha. She was still glaring, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. Eventually, she bowed her head and folded her hands in front of herself as if deciding that being a good servant was better than taking the risk of following in her sister's footsteps.
"I'm sorry about your sister," I said to her, and she glanced up at me, surprised, "but I need you to understand that there are many choices I have had to make since the day I met Peter, and while you may not know them or understand them or agree with them, I make them so I can keep as many people alive as I can."
She studied me for a moment, looking torn. Maybe she believed me, maybe she didn't, and just as she was about to answer me, Peter entered the room, Benj entering just behind him.
He was dressed in black trousers and black boots that went up to his knees. His tunic was the same emerald green as my dress, his coat a black velvet with emerald threads. He still wore my father's crown upon his head, but he had at least combed his hair since this morning.
I dismissed Sasha, and she wasted no time in exiting the room.
I stepped closer to Peter, smiling up at him. I pretended to fiddle with the fabric of my dress, feigning nervousness.
"You look beautiful, Sweetheart," he said, his voice low as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to my lips.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," I replied.
He started to curl a piece of my hair around his finger, his eyes watching my face as he did so. My cheeks burned under his stare, and this made him smile. "The peasants are all gathered in the square. Are you ready to address them?" I felt him snake an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. While he waited for my response, he leaned down and placed soft kisses along my exposed collarbone.
My breath caught, and I felt him smile against my skin. Benj was watching us, which made me blush crimson as something tightened in my belly.
My legs felt weak as I breathed, "Yes, Your Majesty."
Peter hummed against my skin. "I will never tire of hearing you call me that, Sweetheart. And I will never tire of getting you out of these dresses." The hand that had been playing with my hair slid down until he was cupping my breast.
"Peter," I hissed as I covered his hand with mine, but not yet pulling it away. I didn't want to anger him.
He chuckled, and he entwined his fingers with mine. "Sorry, Princess. I couldn't help myself." Then, he turned and looked at Benj. "Isn't she beautiful like this?"
"Stunning," Benj agreed without hesitation.
I held my breath, waiting for Peter to lash out, to get angry. But he didn't. It seemed Benj was the only other boy in the world that was allowed to comment on my beauty without losing an arm or an eye… or his life.
Instead, Peter nodded, pleased that he and Benj agreed, offered me his arm, and stated it was time to give the people their princess back.
Alongside a new king.