Bound (The Devil’s Vow #2)

13. The Princess Bird

Chapter thirteen

The Princess Bird

The huge balcony stretched out before me, illuminated only by the silver glow of the moon and a few flickering sconces that lined the stone walls. Shadows danced across the intricate gold and marble railings.

It was a perfect balcony for a castle placed on top of a soaring cliff.

On the right, there were stairs.

Stepping closer, I got a better look.

Each detail of the balcony was exquisite, as if the hands that had crafted it poured their passion into every curve and flourish.

Statues of a king and queen stood like silent sentinels along the edges. Their faces had been chiseled with a fierce, timeless beauty. Their stone eyes gazed out over the balcony as if they still ruled over their kingdom.

Lush potted plants spilled over the marble.

Thick vines—as if seeking to claim the stone as their own—climbed up the columns and twisted around the base of each statue.

The scent of night-blooming jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp chill of the night.

I turned to the right and examined the stairs again. They had been carved into the cliff and seemingly disappeared into the mist that surrounded the cliffs.

I pointed at them. “Those stairs will take us to the beach below?”

“Yes.”

Gianni guided us to the balcony’s railing.

I placed my hands against the cool marble railing and witnessed the most breathtaking view in all of Obsidian Bay.

Oh my God.

We were now right above the highest point of the cliff, and I could see the beach clearer here than anywhere else in the castle.

This is just. . .amazing.

The moon cast silvery light over the black sand beach that stretched out before us.

Since it was night time, I could no longer see the clear turquoise water. It was all dark liquid and white foam crashing against blackness.

However, I knew the water was warm due to the volcano, Mount Nero. Although inactive, a fire still bubbled under the volcano’s surface keeping all of Obsidian Bay’s surrounding bodies of water a perfect swimming temperature no matter the season.

As Gianni held my hand, he rubbed his thumb along my palm. “Beautiful, isn't it?”

“It is. God. . .it reminds me of. . .” I shook my head. “Never mind.”

He smirked. “What does it remind you of, Queen?”

I took a moment to take it all in, the vast expanse of the black sand beach, the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore, and the serene glow of the moonlight reflecting off the water.

The scene was magical.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head slightly.

Gianni looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re going to think my answer is ridiculous.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Go ahead, say it.”

I took a deep breath, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside me. “This castle is starting to remind me of an old fairy tale that my mother used to read to me.”

There was no shock on his face, just this. . .knowing smile. “Hmmm.”

“Her story was called the Princess Bird, and she completely made it up, drawing the images and everything. . .but it was just so. . .”

The story’s cover hit my mind.

I chuckled to myself. “God. . .my mother was an. . .amazing artist and storyteller, but I think once she married Maximo she must have. . .given that passion up. . .”

My heart ached.

“She drew these beautiful images in charcoal and then somehow had them bound into this book and she’d written this story on each accompanying page in red ink and. . .” I let out a long breath. “As a kid, I was so impressed with her. I thought she was this magical woman.”

All this emotion poured down on me.

“When she passed, I used to read that book every day with tears. . .spilling from my eyes. I almost messed up some of the drawings, due to crying over them.” I swallowed. “Many nights when my nightmares would wake me up. . .my guard would turn the light on, and I would pick up the book from the nightstand and read it to help me go back to sleep. That story and those drawings always grounded my soul. It was like my mother was hugging me from those pages.”

I steadied my voice. “When I left Maximo’s estate at fourteen somehow, I lost that damn book while I was packing. Honestly. . .I think Vito probably took the book and hid it, but. . .”

“Yes?”

“I searched around for days, crying. I almost didn’t even go to Landmark Academy. That was how much that book meant to me.”

“Of course. It was something precious that your mother made.” Gianni squeezed my hand. “Tell me the story.”

“What?”

“The fairy tale.”

“No way.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a little fairy tale. Nothing more.”

“I like fairy tales.”

I looked at Gianni and smirked. “The Devil of Shadows does not like fairy tales.”

“I do, and even more, I love whatever you love.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Tell me the story, Queen.”

I closed my eyes and just like that, I could see my mother’s beautiful charcoal drawings flashing along my lids.

I hesitated for a moment, and then spoke, “One day a prince was out with the common folk and he saw a woman selling apples.”

“Did he buy the apples?”

“Tons of them.”

“He must have loved apples.”

“No, He didn’t like apples at all, but he did immediately fall in love with the woman selling them. He thought she was so beautiful to the point where he had to marry her that very day. Like. . .he didn’t even give her time to think about it.”

“The prince moved fast.”

“He sure did.” I smiled. “Once he married her that afternoon, he moved her to his huge castle on a cliff just like this one and it also had a lovely beach below.”

Gianni smiled. “And did they live happily ever after in that castle on the cliff?”

“They enjoyed their life for a few months, but the prince's father, the king, was jealous of their love.”

“And what did he do?”

“The king hired a witch to make this potion that would turn the princess into a bird.”

“Sounds like a very devious king.”

“He was. When the witch made the potion, the king was the one to give it to the princess.”

“Of course, he must have made sure his son was nowhere to be found.”

“Of course.”

“And did the princess drink it?”

“She did, not knowing that her father-in-law hated her.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It is. Because when she drank the potion, slowly she began to turn into a bird.”

I opened my eyes, gazing down at the moonlit beach and crashing waves. “The prince returned and thought his new wife had disappeared. ‘Perhaps, someone grabbed her,’ he thought to himself. So, he sent armies to search for her everywhere.”

“But of course no one could find her?”

“No one.” I sighed. “During the day, he would search for her with his men. And every night, the prince would sit on the cliff and cry, and the princess—now a bird—would perch right next to him, cawing, chirping, and wishing she could tell him who she was.”

I paused, taking a moment to look at our own moonlit surroundings. It was as if our cliffside was a mirror of that fairy tale castle's cliffs.

Even the foaming waves below us seemed to be echoing the prince's sorrowful cries.

I spoke, “And then after many months of not finding his wife, he looked sadly at this bird that had always been around him and then he whispered, ‘Goodbye.’”

“He said goodbye to the bird?”

“Yep. And then he just stood up, yelled out the princess’s name, and jumped over the cliff.”

“Oh no.”

“The princess bird was terrified. She was small, but she couldn't watch him die.”

“So what did she do?”

“Somehow, she grabbed his shoulders with her claws and caught him just in time before he might have crashed into the rocky cliffs along the beach.” My heart ached. “It was a struggle for her but, the princess bird slowly brought him down and he gently fell into the sand. Sad and shocked by the bird, he lay on his back, and she perched behind him.”

I shook my head. “And that was when. . .”

“Yes?”

I looked at him. “That was when the prince realized that the bird was his princess. It just hit him.”

“And what did he do?”

“He took her tiny frame in his hands and wept. The princess bird bobbed her head over and over and chirped telling him that he was in fact correct. He begged for this curse to be removed. He screamed to the gods and said that he would do anything to have his wife back.”

“And then?”

“He held this bird, his princess, close to him, closed his eyes and kissed the bird on her tiny head. And of course.” A silly smile spread across my face. “The moment his lips touched her soft feathers there was an intense flash of light and when it subsided, lying in place of the bird was his beloved princess.”

“Just like that?”

“It’s a fairy tale.” I winked. “And so, she ended up telling him all about the potion that his father gave her.”

“And the prince murdered the king?”

“Leave it to you to figure that part out.” I nodded. “Yes. The prince killed his father, and after that they lived happily ever after.”

“Beautiful.”

I nodded, lost in memories of my mother's gentle voice narrating this story with such passion that it almost felt real.

In fact, the tale felt like a story of hope and resilience, even in the darkest times.

Wow.

My eyes watered, but I would not let those tears leave my eyes.

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with emotions and a shared understanding of our unique bond.

The waves continued their eternal dance with the shore.

Holding back those tears, I looked out over the water, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that our story was just beginning to unfold.

And in some ways, I felt like Gianni’s princess bird being swept away from my normal life to live in his castle on the cliff.

I turned to him and saw that he had been watching me the whole time. “I have a question for you.”

The line of his jaw twitched. “And what is that, my queen?”

“Is this castle in your family?”

“No. I bought it about five years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I thought back to what I had been doing five years ago.

Just seventeen, I’d been finishing up my time at Landmark Academy, preparing for my final recital, and keeping my fingers crossed that Julliard or some other top school would be impressed by my audition tapes and interviews.

He studied me. “Why did you ask that question?”

“I’m wondering why a mafia don would want a huge gothic castle on a cliff. Usually, Dons would pick a mansion or big high-end condo downtown.”

“Five years ago, I purchased this castle for a reason.”

“And what was that reason?”

His expression turned serious. “So you would walk through it and imagine yourself to be the princess bird from your mother’s story.”

I smirked. “Very funny.”

But, he didn’t smile or grin back. Instead, he kept that expression serious, and his green eyes never left my face.

I tensed. “Are you serious?”

“Queen. . .”

“What are you saying, Gianni?”

“We’ll talk more about that later.”

“No.” I stepped back from him. “I want to talk about this now .”

“Later, Queen.”

“Now, king.”

Movement sounded from behind me.

I turned.

Several armed men came out, donning suits and gripping guns. Some went off to the end of the balcony and began going down the stairs in the cliff.

The rest stayed as if waiting for Gianni’s command.

Next, three staff members walked onto the balcony. One held a thick, folded red blanket. Another had a silver ice bucket filled with a bottle of expensive champagne. Meanwhile, the third carried champagne glasses and a large lantern.

With that, the three servants headed down the stairs too.

I put my view back on Gianni. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to show you the beach this evening, when it is at its most magical.” He lowered to his knees, slowly lifted the bottom of my dress, and very carefully, one by one, he took off my heels.

All the tension left my shoulders.

And I swore I felt like Cinderella and he, my prince checking to see if he’d finally found the right woman.

Even more, when he took off the last shoe, he placed it to his nose and loudly inhaled.

I blinked.

A dark groan left him. “Every inch of you smells fucking delicious.”

I widened my eyes.

He rose and slipped out of his shoes and socks.

A new set of staff members rushed out, quietly took our shoes, and left.

I eyed him. “When did you plan this beach moment?”

“Oh, princess. If I told you when, it might scare you.”

“Tell me anyway.”

A wicked chuckle left him as he guided us toward the carved steps in the cliff. “Stay very close to me.”