"Oh, none be so merry as the Fae!" In my little cage above a huge pot, I cast off my immediate danger and continued to sing. It was less for my benefit and more so for my miserable companion. "Come, Majesty! Do not let me sing alone."

I wanted to keep all eyes on me and not on what was left of the princess as she was hoisted up by vines until she hung in a separate cage beside me.

Once then twice, our prisons bounced against one another. On the third strike, I caught hold of hers and reached in with my right hand.

"Majesty?"

Weak fingers gripped mine, but I felt great.

So, my cage pressed against hers, her hand in mine, I continued to sing.

"We swing and we sway as we cut through a nave. None be so merry as the Fae."

"Silence!" One elf shouted, then another, as they covered their ears and scurried around.

I ignored them and kept on. Once the room was empty, I surveyed our confines. We were in a tree of sorts because this resembled a smaller version of my throne room.

But there was no sense of Manoj, and most importantly, with us being off the ground, that weak grip on my hand strengthened.

That was a worry because now there was no denying that the dirt was literally consuming her energy. Manoj was after her. And because she could not fly, there was no safety.

In time, the princess squeezed my hand and I found myself making small circles with my thumb. My voice was hoarse, but now rather than sing, I hummed. It would be enough.

"We've failed."

I didn't look at her. "Nonsense. They've put us right where we need to be. Look. They use the sun to fuel their fire magic. isn't this lovely?"

My cage jumped as the princess sat up then looked around. Color returned to her cheeks, but that was probably from the anger.

"This? This is your plan? To get cooked!"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Listen, little miss ungrateful, I said I have a plan and you promised to trust in that plan."

Her hand still gripped mine. Despite her anger, instead of pulling away, she interlocked our fingers.

"Very well," she said, breathing steady for the first time in an hour. "How do we fuel the stones?"

"We let them cook us and—"

"Imbecile!"

I slipped from her grip and rested back against my own wooden cage, arms folded. "You know, the day you allow me to finish a thought, must be the day either of us die."

Far below, a big black pot of gray bubbled and simmered. With only one path leading in or out, my grand plan seemed hopeless.

"I'm sorry."

A lot of swallowed pride went into royalty admitting err. I allowed those two little words to linger between us.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I haven't been supportive; I've just been a bother."

Our cages swung close, and she caught hold with both hands. I wouldn't look at her, but I was relieved to see her able to move. Even now, she must have realized how warm it was.

"Please. Go on with your brilliant idea," she begged. "I'm sure it's perfect."

I turned with my back to her, knees at my chest. "Well, I'd rather not waste my breath."

"Come. Don't be like that. I'm sure it's a rather clever plan. Go on. Tell it to me. We let them cook us...."

After a grueling five minutes, I turned to face her and caught her hands in place.

"After I'm dead, you wait for them to swallow me down, then call on Manoj to restore me. Then, as all remnants of me slide down into their narrow gullets, boom! I am reborn, and I tear through them."

Wide eyed, she stared me down. It started with a heavy exhale, then her lips twitched. Finally, she opened her mouth to yell.

"You—"

I pressed my lips against hers. She melted into me. I had meant only to quiet her as to not alert anyone to us, but I couldn't say why I chose this avenue.

Even when I was satisfied and decided to pull away, she snaked her hands through the gaps between the twigs, held my neck, and drank me down.

Now, I never did see great value in a kiss. With these barriers between us, there was little else we could do. So I'd thought until she rooted up my kilt and stroked up between my legs.

When I stood tall and stiff, I lost my own senses and brushed the scarf from her shoulders. I was pleased with tracing the outline of her warm breasts until my fingers discovered something strange.

My eyes flew open and I leaned away. The groan to leave her echoed my own hunger well.

"Majesty," I breathed out.

She ceased in stroking me long enough to look down at the area above her left breast and gasp.

"Shh. Don't cry out." Embedded in her skin, the latest hearthstone glowed yellow. "Does it hurt—?"

"Can I get it off?"

"It's better if we do." In the minutes following, I kissed her again—kissed her several times, not for passion but comfort and to stifle every sharp shriek.

The moment the hearthstone fell away, I scrambled to catch it, but it slipped through my fingers and landed in the soup below with a plop.

My concern lay there. That hearthstone was fully powered in minutes, and with little effort. For the princess, however, her concern was elsewhere.

Tentative fingers traced the scar. "I suppose I deserve this."

Surely, it wouldn't have happened if she weren't dressed, holding it against her skin for so long. We both knew that to be true. So what was the sense in saying it?

Instead, I caught hold of her cage and pressed myself against my own as I guided her to me.

"Come here."

Her eyes left her wound and instead settled on me. The moment she was close enough, I kissed what I could of the scar.

"There. It's your first battle scar with me." She gazed down at me, so I added, "Hopefully, one of many." My focus was less on her smile and more so on something I hadn't seen all day—her breasts. "Come a bit closer."

She complied, allowing me to take the left nipple into my mouth. Her fingers running through my hair encouraged me on.

"Blast this cage," I groan, now more than ready to take her up on the offer of putting our bodies to good use.

After shedding her clothes completely, she leaned closer to the wooden bars. "How creative can we get?"

My mind ran along the same lines. "As creative as a princess as yourself would allow." I pulled myself up as well until our lips met.

"I'll take care of you...."

"And I'll certainly take care of you," I agreed.

For that, I held our cages together with my left, while she did the same.

Our groins couldn't touch with these barriers, but she went to work, stroking me expertly. To be fair, as a king, pleasing women was never really my concern. Therefore, I wasn't sure why I was so good at this. Perhaps she was faking each moan into my mouth. But as for the instrument of her body, I felt confident that I knew how to play it well. I knew when to simply stroke between her legs until my fingers were slick, when to insert, when to add another digit.

And anyone could see she was no stranger to the male form, either. Again and again, she rubbed me with vigor until I nearly buckled, only to stroke my hip to allow me calm.

I wasn't used to being led but I enjoyed following her lead. When she stroked the top of my member, I slid two fingers between her crevice and caressed the bud there.

While I allowed her to toy with the promise of my orgasm, she was not as forgiving. My one attempt at stopping led to her biting my lip, ordering, "Don't you dare."

I took her advice. The subtle length of her fingernails traced my shaft. I rubbed her now with three fingers and she let go of the cage and held my hand in place, moving her hips against me.

That left me holding the cage on my own and although my fingers burned, I dared not let go. In fact, I feared for my very life.

And then she made a sound. Her muscles around my fingers tightened and I had to lean back to take her in. She looked ethereal, hungry, and anguished all at once.

I fell in love, and that was not the right response to have with someone holding my hand steady, helping to guide my fingers into herself. On anyone else, I was sure it would appear distasteful, but here...I didn't mind it at all. In fact, I loved it.

She moved like something wild and once she calmed, all blood rushing to her cheeks, she remembered me and that anguished look faded, petering down into something else.

Shame. But I wouldn't let it as I grabbed the back of her neck and took another kiss.

"And he was singing and singing, sire, so it must be him." A voice closed in.

Blast. Everything in me cried out.

I took little comfort in the princess's concern. "Later," she promised.

With my eyes on her, I sucked my three fingers into my mouth then turned and sat awaiting our audience with the elf of the hour.