Chapter 1.2 - Troublesome Princess

"If you’re born in a nest of snakes,

you either learn to bite—or you die."

Nest of Serpents

by E.S. Mare

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Cheers erupted from the crowd inside.

Vilas cursed—at me.

I glanced at Moelli still standing beside me.

“Did you hear that? I’ll tell the queen and have him hanged.”

Moelli roared with laughter. “Tell the queen? Honey, you’ve gone mad. And as for this White Snake...” He scrunched his nose. “...he won’t leave here alive.”

Won’t make it out alive, huh? Hmm...

Oh, Vilas. If only they knew you. If only they had the slightest idea.

I shoved a wad of cash into Fat Moelli’s hand. He was so thrilled I’d overpaid that he moved faster than a man his size should’ve and filled another glass.

Vilas took down the three men one by one, but more replaced them almost immediately.

The only ones not joining in were the White Snakes cowering in the shadows.

By the time I’d finished two more shots of that vile Black Snake brew, the others had formed an ugly patchwork of bodies on the floor.

Vilas turned to me, gray eyes blazing.

I stood up slowly, unsteady.

His figure swam in front of me, and when I stretched my arms toward him, he cursed again. At me.

When he finally scooped me up, I slurred, “You’re so dead. I’ve got serious ties with the queen. You’re getting executed.”

He clenched his teeth hard enough to reopen the gash on his lip. Blood trickled down. He muttered as he walked toward the door. “You'll pay for this.”

“What?” I gasped. “I didn’t do anything.”

At the door, the men lurking in the corners retreated further.

If Vilas hadn’t kicked it open with that much fury, I might’ve laughed at their cowardice.

Then again, the way he glared at me as he walked out—daggers.

“Death to the White Snakes!” he mocked me with a sneer.

Smiling, I began playing with the medallion hanging from his shirt.

I’d given it to him.

It held drawings I’d made.

On the back, one single word:

Forever.

He’d given me the pearl earrings I wore.

They had belonged to his mother. She died when he was too young to remember her.

Those earrings were all that remained of her.

Vilas and I... we were more than brothers.

I didn’t even like most of my actual brothers.

“Hands off,” he growled, and I let the medallion drop.

“You're very touchy.”

“Ever think of helping?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

My eyes went wide in mock offense.

“Help? Are you mad? I’m a lady. Ladies don’t brawl.” I lifted my chin. “They are graceful, beautiful, noble.”

“Then you're not one,” he grumbled.

“You’re so rude,” I said, wounded. I leaned my head on his chest. “I am a lady.”

“You’re drunk, Asra Marian.”

“You're saying it wrong again!” I snapped.

Vilas glanced down the street, where a few drunkards mumbled to themselves, pretending not to hear me.

“You’re using my full name again. And not even saying the ‘s’ right. It’s Assssra,” I hissed like a snake. “Say it right!”

“Don’t be stupid,” he hissed. “Quiet down.”

I was just about to punch his chest when my stomach flipped.

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Alcohol mixed with bile surged up my throat.

Vilas shoved me off his lap.

No, actually—he threw me.

I hit the ground and was ready to snap at him when I started throwing up.

Vilas cursed again.

At me.

It felt like it lasted forever.

My throat burned raw.

Just when I caught my breath—more came up.

I think my soul tried to escape through my mouth at one point.

Tears blurred my vision and dripped down my cheeks.

And Vilas?

He just watched.

Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t move an inch.

Great job picking friends, huh?

Maybe I was going to get him executed.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked up at him.

“Is it over... my lady?” he asked.

Even through my bleary eyes, I could make out the mocking tilt of his head.

“I’ll feed you to my snakes,” I muttered, full of venom.

He shook his head slowly.

"Words unbecoming of a lady."

"You cursed a lady!"

"You're awfully sensitive."

I grumbled and tried to stand, but the moment my feet touched the ground, pain lanced through my legs. I collapsed back down with a groan and stretched my arms toward Vilas.

"I'm drunk! Carry this lady!"

Even through the blur, I saw him roll his eyes. He stepped forward, took hold of me under the arms, and straightened me just enough to give me hope—then seized my hair and shoved my head downward.

The shock of cold water crashing against my face made me curse, which only forced more water down my throat.

By the time he yanked me back up, I realized what had happened—he’d dunked me into the horse trough. The foul taste in my mouth churned my stomach, and I cursed again.

“Such words are unbecoming of a lady,” he echoed, and dunked me again. He hauled me up, then down once more, like some absurd ritual of purification.

Finally, I kicked at his leg and broke free.

Gasping, I braced myself against the edge of the trough and forced myself to stand.

Black water dripped down my face, revealing the stark white strands of my hair beneath the grime.

When I turned to him, he was grinning—for the first time that day.

"Awake at last, my lady?"

"You threw me into a horse trough!"

He gave me a once-over, and his disgusted gaze rose slowly back to my face.

"And I regret to inform you, you’re covered in horse dung."

I looked down. My once-light brown pants and even my white shirt were soiled. My stomach gave another unpleasant twist. Vilas, on the other hand, was spotless.

That’s when I noticed he’d shed his military uniform. He wore what looked like a beggar’s clothing—tattered shirt, faded trousers. Still, his white hair was nearly pristine, tousled only slightly from his earlier scuffle. Even his boots, which reached to his knees, bore no dirt.

He was clean. In that.

“I need to say something,” I said as I took a step toward him.

He didn’t move, but his brows drew together.

“If you're planning to punch me, I’ll toss you back in the pit,” he said, smirking. “...my lady.”

A drunk staggered past, hissed “White Snakes!” and spat at the ground. We both pretended not to notice. The Black Snakes were stirring trouble, but that was the White Kingdom’s problem—not mine.

I finally reached Vilas, and fluttered my lashes at his infuriatingly handsome face. No wonder the palace maids were taken with him.

"Let’s kiss."

His brow furrowed even more, and he let out a long breath.

“Don’t be absurd. We need to leave before someone sees us.”

“What? We look positively poetic right now. I say we kiss.”

“You just drank from a horse trough. I wouldn’t have kissed you before that, let alone now. We don’t look poetic—we look revolting.” His eyes narrowed in disgust. "You, especially."

“Who was she?” I asked, lifting my chin. “The woman you cheated on me with?”

He groaned.

“Asra, must you always do this? Look at yourself. Look at the state you’re in. Do you have any idea what could happen to you?”

I laughed. He always thought of me first. He still mispronounced my name to protect me.

“You're no fun, Vilas. You wouldn’t know excitement if it bit you.”

“I’ve had my fill fighting Black Snakes,” he muttered, glancing around. “Where’s your horse?”

I turned my head toward the shadowed corner where I’d tied it and gestured with my chin.

“Over there.”

“There’s nothing there.”

I turned back and shrugged.

“It was stolen.”

He growled.

“After all your training, you let your horse get stolen?”

“What training?” I said, slipping my hand into the crook of his arm. I was still a little unsteady. “I’m a lady.”

“You’re a menace, Asra.”

“You missed the ‘s’ again! I’m a lady!”

“They stole your horse!” he said, raising his voice. “You should be worried!”

“You have a horse, don’t you?” I said, shrugging again. I gave him a mischievous smile. “You’ll hold me close, wrap those strong arms around my waist, and we’ll ride together. Perhaps we’ll even kiss.”

“I should’ve left your head in that trough,” he muttered.

We were just stepping out of the alley behind the tavern, and I was still grinning at him—until he stopped.

I stopped too.

“What is it? Are we kissing now?”

“Stop it,” he hissed, eyes narrowing.

Something had changed.

I followed his gaze, but the street ahead was empty. Not a soul stirred. No threats. This place was buried in shadow, hidden from the world.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, more serious now.

He bit down on his lower lip. Then he turned toward me, hesitant. My brows furrowed, and I saw his jaw tighten.

“Don’t say a word. And don’t—don’t laugh.”

“What?”

He gritted his teeth, struggling.

His lips moved once, then stopped.

Then, finally—

“They stole my horse.”