The Hostage Prince by Jane Yolen Read Free Book Online

into adulthood, wrapping them within precious paper on which she’d printed instructions in her peasant script to the laundress on how to take proper care.
    He took a deep, slow breath and continued. “My life there is a distant and not particularly fond memory.” He lifted his chin, determined to look directly into whichever eye was looking at him. Surprisingly, King Obs seemed to have sensed something important was coming, and had both eyes on him now, clear and focused.
    â€œSire, I request that you adopt me as a noninheriting son and allow me to stay here.” Aspen had to force himself not to gulp visibly before the next word. “Forever.”
    It’s better than death,
he reminded himself.
    King Obs sat perfectly still, eyes locked with Aspen’s for just long enough for the young prince to fear that the king had fallen asleep with his eyes open. Then the king smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. But then he never smiled pleasantly. It wasn’t the Unseelie way.
    â€œWouldn’t that just make the pious old fart eat his own spleen!”
    Aspen forced a smile. “I suppose that is an extra bonus, sire.”
    â€œCome closer, boy.” King Obs reached out and took Aspen by the arm with a meaty hand. “I shall certainly consider it.”
    â€œThank you, sire.” Aspen bowed his head, trying to decide whether to feel relief or revulsion.
    â€œIt won’t save you if it comes to war, you know,” the king said.
    Aspen couldn’t help himself this time.
Gulp.
“Why not?”
    â€œLook around you.” The king turned Aspen to face the room, still full of Unseelie revelers. “Trolls, boggarts, drows, bogies—do you think they follow me out of love? Respect? Honor? Duty? Do you think Red Caps care about all of that? Or the Border Lords? Or the ogres? Or the Wild Hunt?”
    Dismally, Aspen shook his head. He was afraid he knew where this was going.
    â€œNo, my young prince. It’s fear and fear alone that keeps their spears at my command and their daggers in their belts instead of my back.” He spun Aspen back around and pulled him close. His breath smelled of honey mead and rotten meat. “If I show a moment’s mercy, a moment’s weakness, they will tear me apart.”
    The king released Aspen’s arm, and Aspen stumbled as he realized his legs had gone weak and the king had basically been holding him up.
    â€œBut, sire, if I were your
son
—”
    â€œNo,” the king interrupted. “Son or no, you would die at the first clash of swords between our kingdoms.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œBecause I swore an oath you would.” King Obs thumped his bowl on the table and a servant scuttled forward to brim it with golden mead. The king took a healthy draught and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “And a king keeps his word, no matter the consequences. You’d do well to keep that in mind,
Prince.
”
    Aspen nodded mutely, beyond words now.
    The king waved his hand, dismissing him. “I shall give your request due thought and give you my answer soon. Now off with you. I’ll not have anyone of your young age—whether my son or the son of my greatest enemy—see what the Border Lords get up to when they’re into their tenth bowl of mead.”
    Aspen turned on numb legs and staggered out of the Great Hall.
    Only an hour ago I was condemned to die. Now I’m to die as the son of my family’s enemy.
Now even if war didn’t come he had no hope of ever going home. He was stuck here at the Unseelie Court. Forever. Or as long as it took to hear the first horn of the first Seelie War.
    He cursed himself for believing any thought or plan of his could do anything but make things worse.
    But a worse thought quickly followed.
    If I run, then the truce is broken and I will be responsible for the death of thousands and as such will be a hunted man in
both
kingdoms.
    For the second time