Fall of Ruin and Wrath

Contents
Cover
TitlePage
Contents
Dedication
PronunciationGuide
Prologue
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Chapter33
Chapter34
Chapter35
Chapter36
Chapter37
Chapter38
Chapter39
Acknowledgements
AbouttheAuthor
BytheSameAuthor
CopyrightForyou,thereaderPRONUNCIATIONGUIDE
Divinus:Di-vie-nus
Euros:Your-us
Primvera:Prim-vee-rah
Rae:Ray
Vytrus:Vie-trues
caelestia:ca-les-te-uh
divus:di-vus
na’laa:nah-lay
ni’mere:nigh-meer
ny’chora:nay-ko-rah
sōls:soulsPROLOGUE
Aneeriequietdescendeduponthechamberofthefoundlinghome,hushingthesoftsnoresandwheezybreathsfromthosesleepingonthecotsinthechamber.MissingthewarmbedsfoundatthePrioryofMercy,Itightenedmyachingfingersaroundthescratchy,wornblanket.Ineversleptwellonthefloor,wherethemiceandratsusuallyscurriedallnight.
Buttonight,therewerenoglimpsesoftheirthin,slicktails,nordidIheartherapoftheirclawsuponthestone.Thatshouldbeawelcomediscovery,butsomethingdidn’tfeelright.NotaboutthefloorbeneathmeortheairIbreathed.
I’dwokenwithtinygoosebumpsallovermyskinandabadfeelinginthepitofmybelly.ThePrioresshadtaughtmetoalwaystrustmysecondsight,thepullofmyintuition,andtheurgeofmyinstinct.Theyweregifts,she’dtoldmeoverandover,givenbythegodsbecauseIwasbornfromthestars.
Ididn’tunderstandwhatshe’dmeantbythewholestarpart,butrightnow,myintuitionwastellingmesomethingwasverywrong.
Ieyedthedampstonewallslitbythegaslanterns,searchingforasignofwhatmademybellyfeellikeI’deatenspoiledmeat.Bythedoor,alightflickeredandwentout.Thelanternbythewindowsputtered,thenceasedasanotherdidthesame.Acrossthechamber,thelastlampwentdead.
Nofingershadcutoffthelight.Iwould’veseenanyonewhodaredriskincitingtheMister’sirebymessingwiththelanterns.
Mygazedartedbacktothefireplace.Theflamesfromthecoalsstillburned,doingapoorjobofheatingthechamber,butthatwasn’twhatcaughtmyattention.Thefire…itmadenosound.Notacrackleorahiss.
Ashiverofdreadstirredthetinyhairsalongthenapeofmyneckandspider-walkeditswaydownmyspine.
Besideme,alumpshiftedbeneaththeblanketandrolled.Tuftsofcurly,messybrownhairappearedasGradypeeredovertheedgeoftheblanket.Heblinkedsleep-heavyeyes.“Whatchadoing,Lis?”hemurmured,hisvoicecrackinghalfwaythrough.Ithadbeendoingthatmoreandmoreoflate,startingaroundthesametimehe’dbeguntogrowliketheweedsintheyardbehindthehome.
“Lis?”Gradyroseslightly,holdingtheblankettohischinastheflamesinthefireplacebegantoweaken.“WastheMisterbotheringyouagain?”
Igaveaquickshakeofmyhead,havingnotseentheMistereventhoughmyarmswerelinedwithevidenceofothernightsandhismean,pinchingfingers.
Rubbingthesleepfromhiseyes,hefrowned.“Didyouhaveabaddreamorsomething?”
“No,”Iwhispered.“Theairdoesn’tfeelright.”
“Theair…?”
“Isitghosts?”Icroaked.
Hesnorted.“Ghostsaren’treal.”
Isquinted.“Howdoyouknow?”
“BecauseI…”Gradytrailedoff,lookingoverhisshoulderastheflamesofthefireplacecollapsed,leavingtheroomlitbysliversofmoonlight.Hisheadturnedslowlyashescannedthechamber,noticingthedeadlanternsthen.Hiswidegazeshottomine.“They’rehere.”
Myentirebodyjerkedasanicywaveofterrorsweptoverme.They’reherecouldmeanonlyonething.
TheHyhborn.
Thescionsofthegodslookedlikeus—well,mostofthemdid,butthosewhoruledtheKingdomofCaelumweren’tlikeuslow-born.Theyweren’tmortalatall.
Andtheyhadnoreasontobehere.
Itwasn’ttheFeasts,whentheHyhborninteractedmoreopenlywithuslowborn,andthiswastheRook.Weweren’tintheprettyplaceswiththingsandpeopleofvalue.Therewasnopleasureinanythingtobefoundhereforthemtofeedupon.
“Whyaretheyhere?”Iwhispered.
Grady’shandclampeddownonmyarm,thechillofhisfingersbleedingthroughmysweater.“Idon’tknow,Lis.”
“Arethey…Willtheyhurtus?”
“Theyhavenoreasonto.Wehaven’tdoneathingwrong.”Hepulledusdownsothatourheadssharedthesameflatpillow.“Justcloseyoureyesandpretendtobeasleep.They’llleaveusbe.”
IdidwhatGradysaid,likeI’ddoneeversincehe’dstoppedshooingmeawayfromhim,butIcouldn’tstaysilent.Icouldn’tstopthefearfrombuildingontopofitself,makingmethinktheworst.“Whatifthey…whatiftheyarehereforme?”
Hetuckedmyheadunderhis.“Whywouldtheybe?”
Mylipsquivered.“BecauseI…I’mnotlikeyou.”
“Yougotnogoodreasontoworryaboutthat,”heassuredme,voicelowsotheotherscouldn’thearus.“Theyaren’tgoingtocareaboutthat.”
Buthowcouldhebesure?Otherpeoplecared.SometimesImadethemnervous,becauseIcouldn’tstopmyselffromsayingsomethingthatIsawinmymind—aneventyettohappenoradecisionthathadn’tbeenmadeyet.Gradywasusedtoit.TheMister?Others?Notsomuch.Theylookedatmeliketherewassomethingwrongwithme,andtheMisteroftenstaredlikehethoughtImightbeaconjurerandlikehe…hemightbealittlescaredofme.Notscaredenoughtostoppinchingmebutscaredenoughtokeepdoingso.
“MaybetheHyhbornwillsensesomethingoffaboutme,”Irasped.“Andmaybetheywon’tlikeitorthinkI’m—”
“Theywon’tsenseanything.Iswear.”Hepulledtheblanketoverusasifthatcouldsomehowprotectus.
Butablanketwouldn’tshieldusfromtheHyhborn.Theycoulddowhatevertheywantedtowhoever,andiftheywereangered?Theycouldbringentirecitiestoruin.
“Shh,”Gradyurged.“Don’tcry.Justcloseyoureyes.It’llbeokay.”
Chamberdoorscreakedopen.Betweenus,GradysqueezedmyarmuntilIcouldfeelthebonesinhisfingers.Theairsuddenlybecamethinandstrained,andthewallsgroanedasifthestonecouldn’tcontainwhathadslippedinside.Atremorrockedme.IfeltassickasIhadthelasttimethePrioresshadtakenmyhand,likeshe’doftendonewithoutanyconcernforwhatImightseeorknow,butthatdayhadbeendifferent.I’dseendeathcomingforher.
Ididn’ttakebigbreaths,butascentstillsnakedundertheblanketandinbetweenus,crowdingoutthesmellofstalealeandtoomanybodiescrammedintoatoo-smallplace.Amintyscentthatremindedmeofthe…thecandiesthePrioressusedtocarryinthepocketsofherhabit.Don’tmove.Don’tmakeasound,Ichantedoverandover.Don’tmove.Don’tmakeasound.
“Howmanyarehere?”amaleaskedinalowvoice.
“Thenumberch-changeseverynight,LordSamriel.”TheMister’svoicetrembled,andI’dneverheardhimsoundscaredbefore.Usually,itwashisvoicescaringus,buttherewasaHyhbornlordamongus,oneofthemostpowerfulofHyhborn.Itwouldterrifyeventhemeanestofbullies.“Usuallyth-there’saboutthirty,butIdon’tknowanythathavewhatyou’relookingfor.”
“We’llseeforourselves,”LordSamrielreplied.“Checkthemall.”
ThefootfallsoftheHyhbornriders—theRae—echoedintandemwithmyheart.Whatfeltlikeathinlayeroficesettledoverusasthetemperatureofthechamberdropped.
TheRaewereoncegreatlowbornwarriorswhohadfalleninbattletoHyhbornprincesandprincesses.Nowtheywerelittlemorethanfleshandbone,theirsoulscapturedandheldbytheprinces,theprincesses,andKingEuros.Didthatmeanoneofthemwashere?Ishuddered.
“Openyoureyes,”LordSamrieldemandedfromsomewhereinthechamber.
Whyweretheymakingusopenoureyes?
“Whoarethey?”Anotherspoke.Aman.Hedidsoquietly,buthisvoicebledshiverypowerintoeachword.
“Orphans.Castoffs,mylord,”theMistercroaked.“SomecamefromthePrioryofMercy,”herambledon.“O-Othersjustshowup.Don’tknowwheretheycomefromorwheretheyendupdisappearingto.Noneofthemisaseraph,Iswear.”
They…theythoughtaseraphwashere?That’swhytheywerecheckingtheeyes,searchingforthemark—alightintheeyes,orsoI’dheard,buttherewasnothinglikethathere.
Itrembledatthesoundofstartledgaspsandquietwhimpersthatcontinuedforseveralmoments,myeyessqueezedtightasIwishedwitheverythinginmethattheywouldleaveusalone.Justdisappear—
Theairstirreddirectlyaboveus,carryingthatmintyscent.Gradywentrigidagainstme.
“Eyesopen,”LordSamrielorderedfromaboveus.
IwasfrozensolidasGradyrosehalfway,shieldingmewithhisbodyandtheblanket.Thehandaroundmyarmshook,andthatmademeshakeevenharderbecauseGrady…hestareddowntheolderkidswithoutfearandlaughedasthelawmenchasedhimthroughthestreets.Hewasneverafraid.
Buthewasnow.
“Nothing,”LordSamrielannouncedwithaheavysigh.“Andthisisallofthem?”
TheMisterclearedhisthroat.“Yes,I’mass-sureasIcanbe—Wait.”Hisstepswereheavyandunevenagainstthefloor.“Healwaysgotthissmalleronewithhim.Agirl,andanoddonetoboot,”hesaid,nudgingmycoveredlegs,andIswallowedasqueak.“There.”
“Hedoesn’tknowwhathe’stalkingabout,”Gradydenied.“Thereisn’tnoonebutme.”
“Boy,yabetterwatchthatmouth,”theMisterwarned.
IbitdownonmylipuntilItastedblood.
“Howaboutyouwatchyourmouth?”Gradyshotback,andanotherdoseoffearpunchedmeinthegut.TheMisterwouldn’ttakekindlytoGradytalkingback.Ifwegotthroughthis,theMisterwouldpunishhim.Realbad,too,likelasttime—
Withoutanywarning,theblanketwasrippedaway,turningmybloodtoice.Gradyshiftedsohalfhisbodycoveredmine,butitwasnouse.TheyknewIwashere.
“Itappearstherearetwoinsteadofone,sharingablanket.Agirl.”Theunnamedlordpaused.“Ithink.”
“Moveawayfromher,”LordSamrielcommanded.
“Sheain’tnobody,”Gradygnashedout,hisbodytremblingagainstmine.
“Everybodyissomebody,”theotherreplied.
Gradydidn’tmove.Therewasaheavy,impatientsigh,andthenGradywasgone—
Panicexplodedinsideme,movingallmylimbsatonce.Ijackknifedup,reachingblindlyforGradyinthesudden,too-brightlamplightfloodingthechamber.IcriedoutasaRaegrabbedhimbythewaist.Thin,wispygrayshadowsspilledoutfromtheRae’srobesandswirledaroundGrady’slegs.
“Letmego!”Gradyshrieked,kickingoutashewasdraggedback.“Wehaven’tdoneanythingwrong.Letme—”
“Quiet,”LordSamrielsnapped,steppingbetweenGradyandme.Hislonghairwassopaleitwasnearlywhite.HeplacedhishandonGrady’sshoulder.
Gradywentquiet.
Hisnormallywarmbrownskintookonachalkygraycastashejust…hejuststaredbackatme,hiseyeswideandempty.Hedidn’tspeak.Didn’tmove.
“Grady?”Iwhispered,tremblinguntilmyteethchattered.
Therewasnoanswer.Healwaysansweredme,butitwaslikehewasn’teventhereanymore.Likehewasjustashellthatlookedlikehim.
Fingerscurledaroundmychin.Atthetouchitfeltlikeajoltofelectricityshotthroughmybody.Icouldfeelthehairsonmyarmsstandasmyskinprickledwithawareness.
“It’sokay,”theotherlordsaid,hisvoicealmostsoft,almostgentleasheturnedmyheadtowardhim.“Hewillnotbeharmed.”
“We’llseeaboutthat,”LordSamrielreplied.
Ijerkedbutdidn’tmakeitfar.Theunnamedlord’sholdwouldn’tallowit.
Throughclumpsofmatteddarkhair,IstaredupattheLord.He…helookedyoungerthanIthoughthewould,asifhewereonlyinthethirddecadeoflife.Hishairwasagoldenbrown,brushingshouldersencasedinblack,andhischeekswerethecolorofthesandfoundalongthebankofCurser’sBay.Hisfacewasaninterestingmixofanglesandstraightlines,buthiseyes…
Theytiltedattheoutercorners,butit…itwasthecoloroftheirisesthatheldmyattention.I’dneverseenanythinglikethecolors.Eacheyecontainedblotsofblue,green,andbrown.
ThelongerIstaredathim,themoreIrealizedhe…heremindedmeofthefadedfigurespaintedonthevaultedceilingofthePriory.WhathadthePrioresscalledthem?Angels.That’swhatIhadonceheardhercalltheHyhborn,sayingtheywereguardiansofmortalsandtheveryrealmitself,butwhathadenteredthefoundlinghomedidn’tfeellikeprotectors.
Theyfeltlikepredators.
Exceptforthisone,withthestrangeeyes.Hefelt…
“Whatabouther?”LordSamriel’svoicecrackedthesilence.
TheyoungHyhbornlordholdingmychinsaidnothingashestaredatme.Slowly,IrealizedI’dstoppedtrembling.Myhearthadcalmed.
I…Iwasn’tafraidofhim.
JustlikeIhadn’tbeenwhenIfirstmetGrady,butthatwasbecauseIsawwhatkindofpersonGradywas.MyintuitionhadtoldmethatGradywasasgoodasanyofuscouldbe.IsawnothingasIstaredintotheLord’seyes,butIknewIwassafe,evenasthosepupilsexpanded.Tinyburstsofwhiteappearedinhiseyes.Theywerelikestars,andtheybrighteneduntiltheywereallIcouldsee.Mypulsebegantopoundlikearunawayhorse.Thenitfinallyhappened.Mysensesopenedtohim.Isawnothinginhiseyesorinmymind.
ButIfeltsomething.
Awarning.
Areckoning.
Apromiseofwhatwastocome.
AndIknew.
TheLorddrewback,thepupilsshrinkingtoanormalsizeandthewhitespecksdisappearing.“No,”hesaid,hisgazeflickingtomyarms,exposedbythetoo-bigsweaterIwore.“Sheisclear.”
Hedroppedmychin.
Iscootedbackacrosstheblanket,twistingtoGrady.Hewasstillsuspendedthere,motionlessandempty.“P-Please,”Iwhispered.
“Releasehim,”theLordsaid.
LordSamrieldidsowithasigh,andlifereturnedtoGradythatverysecond.ThepallorfadedfromhisskinasIscrabbledacrossthetwistedblankets,throwingmyarmsaroundhim.AsIheldontohistremblingbody,mygazeinchedbacktotheHyhbornlordwhohadstarsinhiseyes.
Heremainedwherehewas,stillcrouchedandstaringatme—staringatmyarmsasLordSamrielstalkedpasthim,headingtotheentrance.MyfingersdugintothethinsweateralongGrady’sback.
“Yourarms,”heasked,hisvoicesolowthistimeIwasn’tsureIsawhislipsmove.“Howdidthathappen?”
Ididn’tknowwhyheaskedorcared,andIknewbetterthantosaywhohaddoneit,butIlookedattheMisterandnodded.
TheLordeyedmeforamomentlonger,liftedhisfingerstolipsthathadcurvedintoafainthalfsmile,andthenrosetoanimpossibleheight.
Thechamberwentdarkoncemore,andtheheavysilencereturned,butIwasn’tafraidthistime.
Asharp,swiftcrytorethroughthedarkness,endingabruptlyinawet,crunchingsound.Ijerkedassomethingheavyhitthefloor.
Thequietcameagain,andallatonce,theheavinessseepedoutoftheroomastheveryairitselfseemedtobreatheasighofrelief.Thelanternsalongthewallflickeredtolife,oneaftertheother.Thefiresurgedinthehearth,spittingandhissing.
Bythedoor,theMisterwaslyinginapuddleofhisownblood,hisbodybrokenandtwisted.Someonescreamed.Cotscreakedastheothersclamberedfromthem,butIdidn’tmove.Istaredattheemptydoorway,knowingIwouldseetheHyhbornlordagain.CHAPTER1
“Doyouhaveamoment,Lis?”
LookingupfromthechamomileI’dbeengrindingintoapowderforBaronHuntington’steas,IsawNaomistandinginthedoorwayofmychamber.Thebrunettewasalreadydressedfortheevening;thegossamerofhergownwould’vebeencompletelytransparentifnotforthefabric’sstrategicallyplacedpanelsinadeepshadeofcerulean.
TheBaronofArchwoodled,well,anunorthodoxlifecomparedtomostmortals,butthenagain,Claudewasn’tjustamortal.Hewasacaelestia—amortalthatdescendedfromtherarejoiningofalowbornandHyhborn.Caelestiaswerebornandcaelestiasaged,justlikeuslowborn,andattwenty-six,Claudehadnoplanstomarry.Instead,hepreferredtospreadhisaffectionuponmany.He,muchliketheHyhborn,wasacollectorofanythingbeautifulandunique.AndonewouldbeunwiseifonethoughttocompareoneselftoanyoftheBaron’sparamours,butitwasdoublyfoolishtomeasureoneselfagainstNaomi.
Withherglossyhairanddelicatefeatures,shewasutterlybreathtaking.
I,ontheotherhand,happenedtolooklikesomeonehadtakendifferenttraitsfromotherpeopleandpiecedthemtogetheronmyface.Mysmallmouthdidn’tmatchthenaturalpuckerofmylips.Mytoo-round,too-bigeyesseemedtotakeuptheentiretyofmyface,givingmetheappearanceoflookingfarmoreinnocentthanIwas.ThathadcomeinhandymorethanoncewhileIwasonthestreets,butIthoughtthatIvaguelyresembledthosecreepydollsI’dseeninshopwindows,exceptwithgolden-oliveskininsteadofporcelain.
TheBarononcetoldmeIwasinterestingtolookupon—“stunning”inanoddsortofway—butevenifthatweren’tso,Iwouldstillbehismostfavored,theonehekeptclosetohim,andthathadnothingtodowithmyoddattractiveness.
TensioncreptintomyshouldersasIshiftedonthesetteeandnodded.Draggingmyteethovermylowerlip,Iwatchedherclosethedoorandcrossthesittingareaofmyquarters—myprivatequarters.
Gods,attwenty-twoyearsofage,I’dbeenherefor…forsixyears.LongenoughformenottobeshockedbytheknowledgethatIhadmyownspace,myownroomswithelectricityandhotwater,somethingthatmanyplacesinthekingdomdidn’thave.Ihadmyownbed—anactualbedandnotapileofflatblanketsoramattressmadeofflea-infestedstraw—butIstillcouldn’twrapmyheadaroundit.
IfocusedonNaomi.Shewasbehavingstrangely,repeatedlyclaspingherhandstogetherandreleasingthem.Naomiwasnervous,andIhadneverknownhertobesuch.
“Whatdoyouneed?”Iasked,eventhoughIhadafeeling—no,Iknewexactlywhatshewanted.Whyshewasnervous.
“I…Iwantedtotalktoyouaboutmysister,”shebegan—tentatively,andNaomiwasnevertentativeinanythingshedid.Therewerefewwhowereasbraveandboldasher.“Laurelinhasbeenunwell.”
Mychestsqueezedasmygazereturnedtothebowlinmylapandtheyellowish-brownpowderwithin.ThiswaswhatI’ddreaded.
Hersisterhadmarriedawealthylandowneraboveherso-calledstationinlife.Aunionheraldedasatruelovematch,somethingIwould’venormallyscoffedat,butitwastrue.Laurelinwastherarityinaworldwheremostmarriedforconvenience,opportunity,orsecurity.
Butwhatdidlovereallydoforanyone?Evenher?Ithadn’tstoppedherhusbandfromwantingasoneventhoughLaurelin’slastbirthhadnearlytakenherlife.Soshekepttrying,nomattertherisk.
He’dgottenhissonnow,andLaurelinhadbeenstruckwiththefeverthathadtakensomanyafterbirth.
“Iwantedtoknowifshewill…?”Naomitookadeepbreath,stiffeninghershoulders.“Ifshewillrecover?”
“I’massumingyou’renotlookingformyopinion,”Isaid,grindingthepestleintothemoundofchamomile.Theslightlyfruitytobaccoscentincreased.“Areyou?”
“Notunlessyouhavebeenmoonlightingasaphysicianormidwife,”shereplieddryly.“I…Iwanttoknowwhatthefutureholdsforher.”
Iexhaledsoftly.“Youshouldn’tbeaskingthis.”
“Iknow.”Naomiloweredherselftoherkneesonthefloorbesideme,theskirtofhergownpoolingaroundher.“AndIknowtheBarondoesn’tlikeitwhensomeoneasksyoutodothis,butIswearhewillneverknow.”
MyreluctancehadlittletodowithClaude,eventhoughhedidn’tlikeitwhenIusedmyforesight—myheightenedintuition—foranyonebuthim.HefearedI’dbeaccusedofbeingaconjurerdabblinginforbiddenbonemagic,andwhileIknewtheBarondidworryaboutthat,Ialsoknewthatitwasn’tthemagistratesofArchwoodhewasconcernedabout.AllofthemwereintheBaron’spocket,andnoneofthemwouldgoagainstaHyhborn,evenifhewasonlyadescendantofone.Whathetrulyfearedwasthatanotherwithmorecoinorpowerwouldstealmeaway.
Buthiscommandtokeepmyabilitieshiddenandmyownfearofbeinglabeledaconjurerhadn’tstoppedme.Ijust…Ijustcouldn’tkeepmymouthshutwhenIsaworfeltsomethingandwasfoolishlycompelledtospeakup.ItwasthesameinalltheplacesGradyandIhadlivedinbeforetheMidlands’cityofArchwood,whichhadcausedmetobeaccusedofbeingaconjurerandledtousfleeinginthemiddleofthenightmoretimesthanIcaredtoremembertoavoidthehangman’snoose.MyterminalinabilitytomindmyownbusinesswashowImetClaude.
Anditwasalsohowpeopleinthemanorandbeyondhadlearnedofme—thewomanwhoknewthings.Notmany,butenough.
ThereasonIdidn’twantNaomitoaskthishadeverythingtodowithher.
WhenIfirstcametoArchwoodManor,atsixteen,Naomihadalreadybeenhereforaboutthirteenmonths.ThesameageasClaude,shewasonlyafewyearsolderthanme,andclever,andshewassomuchmoreworldlythanIcouldeverhopetobethatIassumedshe’dwantlittletodowithme.
Thathadn’tbeenthecase.
Naomihadbecome,well,myfirst…friendoutsideofGrady.
Iwoulddoanythingforher.
ButIfearedI’dbreakherheart,andIwasasterrifiedoflosingherfriendshipasIwasoflosingthelifeI’dfinallycarvedoutformyselfinArchwood.Becausemoretimesthannot,peoplereallydidn’twanttheanswerstheysought,andthetruthofwhatwastocomewasoftenfarmoredestructivethanalie.
“Please,”Naomiwhispered.“Ihaveneveraskedyouanythinglikethisbefore,andI…”Sheswallowedthickly.“Ihatedoingit,butI’mjustsoworried,Lis.I’mafraidthatshewillleavethisrealm.”
Herdarkeyesbegantoglimmerwithtears,andIcouldn’tbearit.“Areyousure?”
“Ofcourse—”
“Yousaythatnow,butwhatifit’sanansweryoufear?Becauseifitis,Iwon’tlie.Yourworrywillturntoheartache,”Iremindedher.
“Iknow.Trustme,Ido,”sheswore,therichbrowncurlsspillingoverhershouldersassheleanedtowardme.“It’swhyIdidn’taskwhenIfirstlearnedofthefever.”
Ibitdownonmylip,mygriponthemortartightening.
“Iwon’tholditagainstyou,”shesaidsoftly.“Whatevertheansweris,Iwillnotblameyou.”
“Youpromise?”
“Ofcourse,”sheswore.
“Okay,”Isaid,hopingshespokethetruth.Naomiwasn’taprojector,meaningshedidn’tbroadcastherthoughtsandintentionslikesomanydid,makingthemfartooeasytoread.
ButIcouldgetinsidehermindifIwantedtoandfindoutifshespokethetruth.AllIwouldneedtodowasopenmysensestoherandallowthatconnectiontosnaptolife.
Ididn’tdothatwhenIcouldhelpit.Itwastoomuchofaninvasion.Aviolation.However,knowingthathadn’tstoppedmefromdoingitwhenitbenefitedme,hadit?
Shovingthatlittletruthaside,IdrewinabreaththattastedofthechamomileasIsetthebowlonasmalltable.“Givemeyourhand.”
Naomididn’thesitatethen,liftingherhand,butIdid,becauseitwassorareformyhandtotouchothers’fleshwithouttheirintentions,andsometimeseventheirfutures,becomingknowntome.TheonlywayIcouldtouchanotherlowbornwastodullmysenses,usuallythroughalcoholorsomeothersubstance,and,well,thatdulledeverythingelsetooanddidn’tlastverylong,sotherereallywasnopoint.
Iwrappedmyhandaroundhers,wantingtotakejustabriefsecondtosimplyenjoythefeeling.Mostdidn’trealizetherewasaworldofdifferencebetweenbeingtouchedandtouching.Butthiswasn’taboutme.Icouldn’ttakethatsecond,becausethelongerIheldNaomi’shand,themorelikelyitwasthatIwouldendupseeingthingsabouthershemightnotwanttoknoworwantmetolearn.Noamountofhummingorkeepingmymindactivewouldstopthat.
Quietingmymind,Iopenedmysensesandthenclosedmyeyes.Asecondpassed,andanother;thenaseriesoftingleseruptedbetweenmyshoulderbladesandspreadup,overthebackofmyskull.Inthedarknessofmymind,IbegantoseethehazyformofNaomi’sface,butIshutthatdown.
“Askthequestionagain,”Iinstructed,becauseitwouldhelpmefocusononlywhatshewantedtoknowandnoteverythingelsethatwastakingshapeandformingwords.
“WillLaurelinrecoverfromherfever?”Naomisaidinavoicebarelyaboveawhisper.
Therewassilenceinmymind,andthenIheardwhatsoundedlikemyownvoicewhisper,Shewillrecover.
Ashudderofreliefwentthroughme,butmyskinquicklychilled.Thevoicecontinuedtowhisper.ReleasingNaomi’shand,Iopenedmyeyes.
Naomihadgonestill,herhandsuspendedinair.“Whatdidyousee?”
“She’llrecoverfromthefever,”Ishared.
Herthroatworkedonadelicateswallow.“Really?”
“Yes.”Ismiled,butitfeltbrittle.
“Oh,thankthegods,”shewhispered,pressingherfingerstohermouth.“Thankyou.”
NowmysmilewasagrimaceasIlookedaway.Iclearedmythroat,pickingupthebowl.Ibarelyfeltthecoolceramic.
“HasClaudebeenhavingtroublesleepingagain?”Naomiaskedafterahandfulofmoments,hervoicelighterthanithadbeenwhenshewalkedintothechamber
Thankfulforthechangeofsubject,Inodded.“HewantstoberestedfortheupcomingFeasts.”
Naomi’sbrowsrose.“TheFeastsdon’tstartforseveralmoreweeks—atleastamonthorso.”
Iglancedather.“Hewantstobewellrested.”
Naomisnorted.“Hemustbequiteexcited.”Leaningback,shetoyedwithasapphirehangingfromathinsilvernecklaceshealmostalwayswore.“Andwhataboutyou?Youexcited?”
Iliftedashoulderasmystomachtumbledabit.“Haven’treallythoughtaboutit.”
“ButthiswillbeyourfirstFeasts,right?”
“Yep.”ItwasthefirstyearIwaseligibletoattend,asonemustbetwenty-twoyearsofageormarried,whichmadelittlesensetome,butitwastheHyhbornandKingEuroswhomadetherules,notme.
“Youareinfor…quitetheshow,”shesaidslowly.
Isnickered,havingheardthestories.
Shetippedtowardmeoncemore,hervoicelowering.“Butwillyoubepartakinginthe…inthefestivities?”
“Festivities.”Ilaughed.“Whatatamedescription.”
Shegrinned.“WhatelsewouldIcallit?”
“Anorgy?”
Tippingherheadback,shelaughed,anditwassuchalovely,infectioussound.Naomihadthebestlaugh,causingagrintotugatmyownlips.“That’snotwhathappens,”shesaid.
“Really?”Istateddryly.
Naomifeignedalookofinnocence,whichwasratherimpressiveconsideringtherewaslittleaboutherthatcouldbecalledinnocent.“TheFeastsserveasawayfortheHyhborntoreaffirmtheircommitmenttoservinglowbornbysharingtheirwealthoffoodanddrink.”Sherecitedthedoctrineaswellasanyprioresswouldasshefoldedherhandsdemurelyinherlap.“Sometimesalotofdrinkflows,andwiththeHyhbornaround,certainactivitiesmayoccur.Thatisall.”
“Ah,yes,reaffirmingtheircommitmenttolowborn,”Isaidabitsarcastically.ShewasspeakingoftheuppermostsphereofHyhborn—theonesknownasDeminyens.
WhenDeminyensemergedfromtheground,itwassaidtheycameintoexistencefullyformedandwereageless,capableofmanipulatingtheelementsandeventhemindsofothers.SomeofthemwerethelordsandtheladiesoftheHyhbornechelon,butthoseweren’tthemostpowerfuloftheDeminyens.TheprincesandprincesseswhoruledoverthesixterritorieswithinCaelum,alongwiththeKing,werethemostfrighteningintheirpower.Theycouldtakedifferentshapes,whipriversintoafrenzywithaflickoftheirwrists,andevenseizethesoulsofthelowborn,creatingtheterrifyingcreaturesknownastheRae.
NotmuchwasknownaboutanyofthemexceptforKingEuros.Hell,otherthanPrinceRainerofPrimvera,wedidn’tevenknowtheirnames.Theonlyotheroneweeverheardabout,andthatwasusuallythroughtherumormill,wasthePrinceofVytrus,whoruledtheHighlands,andthatwasbecausehewasdreadedbymost.Afterall,hewasknownasthehandthatdeliveredtheKing’swrath.
Ialmostlaughedoutloudrightthen.HyhbornweretheProtectorsoftheRealm,butIwasn’texactlysurehowtheyservedus.EventhoughtheHyhbornweremostlylikeabsenteelandlordswhocamearoundonlywhentherentwasdue,theHyhborncontrolledeverythingaboutthelowborn’slives—fromwhocouldobtainaneducationtowhocouldownlandorcompanies.AndIwasofthemindthattheFeastsweremoreofawaytoprovidetheHyhbornwithwhattheywanted.Ourindulgenceinallmannerofthings,fromgorgingonfoodtoindulginginthedelightsofeachotherduringtheFeasts,alsofedtheHyhborn.Strengthenedthem.Empoweredthem.Ourpleasurewastheirsustenance.Theirlifeforce.Itwasmoreforthemthanitwasus.
Becausethereweresomanymorewaystheycouldprovethattheycaredforuslowborn,startingwithprovidingfoodthroughouttheyeartothoseinneed.Somanyeitherstarvedorbroketheirbacksintheminesorriskedtheirlivesonhuntstokeeptheirfamiliesfedwhilethearisto—Hyhbornandthewealthiestoflowborn—becamericher,thepoorevenmoreimpoverished.Itwasthewaythingsalwayshadbeenandalwayswouldbe,nomatterhowmanylowbornrebellionsroseup.Instead,theyprovidedfoodonlyonceayear,whenmuchofthefoodwenttowastewhileeveryonewasengaginginthosecertainactivities.
ButIdidn’tsayanyofthatoutloud.
Imightbereckless,butIwasn’tafool.
“Youknow,they’renotallthatbad,”Naomisaidafteramoment.“TheHyhborn,Imean.I’veknownofafewlordsandladieswhohavesteppedinandaidedthoseinneed,andthoseinPrimveraarekindandevencaring.Ithinkmorearelikethatthannot.”
Atonce,IthoughtofmyHyhborn—theunnamedlordwhohadtouchedmychinandaskedhowmyarmshadbecomesobruised.Ididn’tknowwhyIreferredtohimasmine.Heobviouslywasn’t.Hyhbornmightfucktheirwaythroughtheentiretyofthelowbornraceandthensome,andafewmightevenclaimalowbornastheirs,atleastforatime,buttheywereneveralowborn’s.ItwasjustthatIdidn’tknowhisname,anditwasanoddhabitthathadbegunsincethatnight.
Honestly,IdoubtedtheHyhbornlordhadeverrealizedthathe’dsavedGrady’slifethatnight.TheMisterwould’vepunishedhimfortalkingbackinfrontofHyhborn,andfartoomanydidn’tsurvivehispunishments.
Mystomachtookaquick,sharptumblelikeitalwaysdidwhenIthoughtofmyHyhborn,becauseIknewIwouldseehimagain.
Thathadyettooccur,andanytimeIthoughtofit,IwasfilledwithamixtureofdreadandanticipationIcouldn’tevenbegintotrytounderstand.
ButmaybeNaomiwasrightaboutmanyofthembeingwhattheyclaimedtobe—ProtectorsoftheRealm.ArchwoodflourishedpartlybecauseoftheonesinPrimvera,theHyhbornCourtthatsatjustbeyondthewoodsoutsideofthemanor,andmyHyhbornhadpunishedtheMister.Thoughhehaddonesoratherbrutally,soIwasn’tsurethatwasagoodexampleofakindandcaringHyhborn.
“Doyou…doyouthinktherewillbeDeminyensattheFeasts?”Iasked.
“Thereareusuallyafewofthemthatshow.”Herbrowcreased.“I’veevenseenalordortwointhepast.Idohopetheyshowthisyear.”
Toyingwiththepestle,Ilookedoverather.
Hergrinturnedslyasshetwistedthesilverchainaroundherfingers.“There’sneveraneedtousetheLongNightwithaHyhborn,”sheadded,referencingapowdermadefromtheseedsofatrumpetflower.Thepowerfulherb,intherightdose,leftonedrowsyandwithoutmuchmemoryofthetimeafteringestingit.“Theyarequitedelightful.”
Mybrowsrose.
“What?”sheexclaimedwithanotherrobust,throatylaugh.“DidyouknowthattheHyhbornareknownforclimaxesthatcanlastforhours—actualhours?”
“I’veheard.”Iwasn’tsureifthatwastrueornot,buthours-longorgasmssounded…intense.Possiblyevenalittlepainful.
Hergazeflickedtomine.“AreyouabletotouchaHyhbornwithout…knowing?”
“I’mnotsure.”IthoughtaboutClaudeandthenmyHyhbornlord.“IcantouchacaelestiaforalittlewhilebeforeIstarttoknowthings,butI’venevertouchedaHyhbornbefore,andwheneverI’maskedsomethingthatdealswiththem,Isensenothing.So,I’mnotsure.”
“Well,mightbeworthfindingout.”Shewinked.
Ilaughed,shakingmyhead.
Shegrinnedatme.“Ineedtogetgoing.Allysonhasbeenamessoflate,”shesaid,speakingofoneofthenewestadditionstothemanor.“Ineedtomakesureshehasherheadtogether.”
“Goodluckwiththat.”
Naomilaughedassherose,thegossamerpoolingaroundherfeet.Shestartedforthedoor,thenstopped.“Thankyou,Lis.”
“Forwhat?”Ifrowned.
“Foranswering,”shesaid.
Ididn’tknowwhattosayasIwatchedherleave,butIdidn’twantherthanks.
MyshouldersslumpedasIliftedmygazetotheslowlychurningfanaboveme.Ihadn’tliedtoNaomi.Hersisterwouldsurvivethefever,buttheforesighthadn’tstoppedthere.Ithadkeptwhispering,tellingmethatdeathstillmarkedLaurelin.Howorwhy,Ihadn’tallowedmyselftofindout,butIhadafeeling—andmyfeelingswererarelyifeverwrong—shewouldn’tlivetoseetheendoftheFeasts.CHAPTER2DownloadMoreBooksatiDeb.ioforfree
CLICKHERETOVISITIDEB.IO
“Wouldyoulikeadifferentwine,pet?”
Myfingerstensed,thenpressedagainsttheskinexposedbetweentwoofthemanystringsofjewelsadorningmyhip.Normallythenicknamedidn’tbotherme,butClaude’scousinHymelstoodwithinearrange,whichwascommonsincehewastheCaptainoftheGuard.Evenwithhisbacktome,IknewHymelsmirked.Hewasanass,plainandsimple.
Thin,delicatechainsofdiamondshangingfromacrownoffreshchrysanthemumstappedagainstmycheeksasIturnedmyheadfromthethrongofthosebelowtothemanbesideme.
Thedark-hairedBaronofArchwoodsatuponwhatcouldbedescribedonlyasathrone.Arathergaudyone,inmyopinion.LargeenoughtoseattwoandencrustedwithrubiestakenfromtheHollowMines,thechaircostmorecointhanthoseminingtherubieswouldlikelyeversee.
NotthattheBaronrealizedthat.
ClaudeHuntingtonwasn’tnecessarilyabadman,andIwouldknowifhewasevenwithoutmyintuition.I’dmettoomanybadpeoplefromallclassestonotrecognizeone.Hecouldbepronetorecklessnessandindulgedinthepleasuresoflifeabittoomuch.Hewasknowntobeaholyterrorifcrossed,wasobviouslyspoiled,and,beingacaelestia,wasexpectedlyself-centered.RarelyhadasinglewrinkleofworrycreasedtheBaron’salabasterskin.
Butthathadchangedinrecentmonths.Hiscoffersweren’tasfull.TheabhorrentchairsandgolddecorClaudeinsistedon,thenear-nightlypartiesandcelebrationsheseemedtoneedtosurvive,likelyhadsomethingtodowiththis.Thoughthatwasn’tentirelyfair.Yes,Claudewantedtohosttheseparties,butitwasalsorequiredofhim—ofallbarons.Manytypesofpleasurewerefoundatthesegatherings,beitthroughdrink,food,conversation,orwhatusuallyhappenedlaterinthenight.
“No,”Isaid,smiling.“Butit’skindofyoutooffer.”
Thebrightlightsofthechandelierglintedofftheskinalonghischeekbonesandthebridgeofhisnose.Therewasadustingofgoldshimmerthere.Itwasn’tsomesortoffacialpaint.Itwassimplyhisskin.Caelestiasglimmered.
Eyesalovelyshadeofsea-glassbluesearchedmine.EverythingaboutClaudewaslovely.Hisperfectlymanicured,smoothhandsandcoiffed,inkyhair.Hewasslimandtall,builtperfectlyforwhateverfashionthearistowerecurrentlyobsessedwith,andwhenhesmiled,hecouldbedevastating.
Andforalittlewhile,Ilikedbeingdevastatedbythatsmile.Itdidn’thurtthatClaude,beingacaelestia,hadalwaysbeenextremelydifficultformetosense.Myabilitiesdidn’timmediatelysnapintoactionaroundhim.Icouldtouchhim,ifonlyforalittlebit.
“Butyouhaven’tdrunkmuchofyourwine,”heobserved.
LaughterandconversationdronedonaroundusasIglancedatthechalice.ThewinewasthecolorofthelavenderthatgrewinthegardensofArchwoodandtastedofsweetenedberries.Itwastasty,andimbibingwinewaswelcomedandevenexpected.Afterall,therewasapleasureindrinkingalcohol,butitalsodulledmyabilities.Moreimportantly,IknewthetruthofwhyIwastheBaron’sfavoriteparamour.
Itwasn’tmystunningoddattractivenessormypersonality.TheBaronkeptmeandGradysheltered,fed,andwelltakencareofbecauseofmyabilitiesandhowusefultheycouldbetohim,andIwasterrifiedthatthemomentInolongerservedapurposewasthemomentGradyandIwouldbebackonthestreets,barelyscrapingbyandlivingontheedgeofdeath.
Whichwasn’tlivingatall.
“It’sfine,”Iassuredhim,takingaverysmallsipofthewineasIturnedmyattentionbacktothosebelowthedais.Thegold-adornedGreatChamberwasfullofthearisto—thewealthyshippersandshopowners,thebankersandlandowners.Noonewasmasked.Itwasn’tthatkindofparty.Yet.IsearchedforNaomiamongthosebelow,havinglostsightofherearlier.
“Pet?”Claudecalledsoftly.
Ifacedhimoncemore.Hebentatthewaist,extendinghishand.Behindus,hispersonalguardskepttheireyesonthecrowd.AllexceptGrady.Icaughtaquickglimpseofthebrownskinofhisjawtightening.Gradywasn’texactlyafanoftheBaronandthisarrangement.MygazereturnedtotheBaron.
Claudesmiled.
BracingahandonthevelvetpillowIsaton,Ileanedcloserandplacedmychininhishand.Hisfingerswerecoollikealways.Sowerehislipsasheloweredhisheadandkissedme.Ifeltonlyalittleflutterinmystomach.Iusedtofeelmore,backwhenIthoughthisattentivenesswasbornofwantofme.
WhichwaswhyGradydidn’tlikethisarrangement.
IfClaudeshoweredmewithattentionbecausehewantedmefor,well,me,Gradywouldn’tcareatall.HejustthoughtIdeservedmore.Better.Anditwasn’tlikeIdidn’tthinkIdidtoo,butmoreandbetterwerehardtocomebyforanyonethesedays.Havingaroofoverourheads,foodinourbellies,andsafetyandsecurityalwaystrumpedbetterandmore.
Hismouthliftedfrommine.“Youworryme.”
“Why?”
Hedraggedathumbjustbelowmylowerlip,carefultonotsmeartheredpaint.“You’requiet.”
HowcouldInotbewhenIsatuponthedaiswithnoonebuthimandHymelwithinspeakingdistance?Claudehadbeenchattingwitheveryoneunderthesunthisevening,andI’drathercutmyowntongueoutthanspeaktoHymel.Seriously.I’dcutmytongueoutandthrowitathimfirst.“IthinkI’mjusttired.”
“Whathasyousotired?”heasked,toneringingwithjustthatrightamountofconcern.
“Ididn’tsleepwell.”Anightmareofthepasthadwokenmelastnight,onethathadbeenahauntingwalkdownmemorylane.I’ddreamtthatwe’dbeenbackonthestreets,andGradyhadbeensickwiththatbody-rattlingcough.TheoneIcouldstillclearlyhearalltheseyearslater.Ihadthatnightmarealot,butlastnight…ithadbeentooreal.
WhichwaswhyI’dspentmostofthedaytendingtotheflowergardenI’dmadeformyself.I’dbarelyhadtimetograbsomethingtoeatbetweenthatandpreparingformypresenceintheGreatChamber,butinthatlittlegarden,Ididn’tthinkabouttheveryrealpast,thenightmares,orthefearthatallofthiscouldendatanymoment.
Onedarkbrowroseinresponse.“Isthattrulyallthatitis?”
Inodded.
Heslidhishandtomyhair,fixingoneofthestringsofdiamonds.“Iwasbeginningtofearthatyouwerejealous.”
Istaredathim,confused.
“IknowI’vebeenpayingalotofattentiontotheothersoflate,”hesaid,fixinganotherstringasheglancedouttothecrowd,likelyatthefair-hairedAllyson.“Iwasworriedyouwerebeginningtofeelunappreciated.”
Mybrowsinchedupmyforehead.“Seriously?”
Hefrowned.“Yes.”
Icontinuedtostareathim,slowtorealizehewasbeingtruthful.Alaughbubbledup,butIsquelchedit.Icouldn’tevenrememberthelasttimeClaudehaddonemorethangivemeaquickkissorpatontherear,andIwascompletelyokaywiththat.
Mostly.
WhileIfeltlittlerealattractiontowardhimthesedays,Ididenjoybeingtouched.Desired.Wanted.Ienjoyedtouching,evenifitwasforonlyafewminutes.AndeventhoughClaudehadnoboundariessetuponhisparamours,thingswereabitmorecomplicatedforme.Iwasmorelikeanadvisor…oraspyhesometimesshowedattentionto.
“I’vebeentoldyouhaven’tbeensleepinginanyoneelse’squarters,”headded.
Irritationflashedthroughme.Ididn’tappreciatetheideaofhimhavinganyonekeepaneyeonme,butitwasalsoaratherirrelevantobservation.
Claudeknewexactlyhowdifficultitwasformetobeintimatewithothers.Howuncomfortableitmademeiftheywereunawareof,well,therisksofmetouchingthemwithoutdullingmysenseswithwhatfeltlikemybodyweightinliquor.AndnotbeingabletorememberhavingsexorhopingthatitwasenjoyablewasasdisquietingasseeingorhearingsthingsIshouldn’t.Maybeevenmoreso.
However,Claudealsoroutinelyforgotwhatdidn’tdirectlyinvolvehim.
“Idon’twantyoutobelonely,”hesaid,andhemeantit.
That’swhyIsmiledathim.“I’mnot.”
Claudewasquicktoreturnmysmileandleanaway,turninghisattentionbacktowhatever.I’dgivenhimwhathewanted.ReassurancethatIwashappy.Hesoughtthatbecausehecared,butalsobecausehewasafraidifIwasn’t,I’dleave.ButwhatI’dgivenhimwasalie.BecauseIwas—
IstoppedmyselfasifthatcouldsomehowchangehowIfelt.
Igrabbedthechalice,drinkinghalfofthewineinonegulpasIstaredatthegoldcrevicesetchedintothemarblefloors.Mymindwentquiet,onlyforafewseconds,butthatwasallittookforthehumofvoicestoratchetup.Closingmyeyes,ItookadeepbreathandheldituntilIseveredallthoseunseenstringsastheybegantoforminmymind.
Afterseveralmoments,Iexhaledsoftlyandopenedmyeyes.Mygazeflickedoutoverthecrush,thefacesablurandmymindmyown.
Infrontofme,Hymelleanedagainstthedais.Heglancedbackatme,themouthframedbyaneatbeardtwistedintoasneer.“Isthereanythingyou’reinneedof,pet?”
MyexpressionshowednothingasIreturnedHymel’sstare.Ididn’tliketheman,andtheonlyreasonClaudetoleratedhimwasbecausehewasfamilyandbecausehetookcareofthemoreunsavorytasksofrunningacity.Forexample,Hymelenjoyedbeingsenttocollectrent,especiallyifpaymentscouldn’tbemade.Hewasunnecessarilyhardontheguardsandtauntedmewheneverhegotthechance.
HewantedmetorespondtohimasIdidwhenothersstokedmytemper.IhadwhatHymelcalled“amouth”onme.However,I’dlearnedtokeepthatmouthincheck.Well,aboutninetypercentofthetime.ButwhenIwasreallymad?Orreallynervousorscared?ItwastheonlydefenseIhad.
Except,cometothinkofit,itwasn’treallyadefense.Itwasmorelikeaself-destructivetendency,becauseitalways,alwaysgotmeintrouble.
Anyway,Naomioncetoldmeitwasbecausehehadproblemsperforminginbed,unabletofindrelease.Ididn’tknowifthatwastrueornot,andIfounditironicthatsuchabeingcouldhavesuchdifficulties,butcaelestiaswereasclosetomortalasanyHyhborncouldbe.Theydidn’tgetassickasoftenandwerephysicallystronger.Theydidn’tneedtofeedasDeminyensdid,buttheyweren’timmunetodiseases.Eitherway,IdoubtedthatwasthedrivingforcebehindHymel’smeanness,ortheonlyone,butIdidknowonethingabouthimforsure.
Hymelwasaparticularkindofcruel,andthatwaswhathegotoffon.
Hesmirked.“You’relikeafavoredhound,youknowthat,right?”HisvoicewaslowenoughthatonlyIcouldhearhim,sinceClaudehadturnedhisattentiontooneofhiscronies.“Thewayhehasyouseatedbyhisfeet.”
Ididknowthat.
ButI’dratherbeafavoredhoundthanastarving,dyingone.
Hymelwouldn’tunderstandthat,though.Thosewhoneverhadtoworryaboutwhentheirbellieswouldbefullagainorifthoseratsscurryingthroughtheirhairatnightcarrieddiseaseshadnoideawhatonewoulddotokeepfedandsheltered.
Therefore,hisopinionsandthoseofotherslikehimmeantnothingtome.
SoIsmiled,liftingthechalicetomylips,andtookanother,muchsmallerdrink.
Hymel’seyesnarrowed,butthenheturnedfromme.Hestiffened.Ifollowedhisstare.Atallmandressedinfinerywalkedoutofthecrowd.Irecognizedhim
EllisRamseyapproachedthedais,headingfortheBaron.TheshippingmagnatefromtheneighboringtownofNewmarshstoppedtobowdeeplybeforetheBaron.“Goodevening,BaronHuntington.”
Claudenoddedinacknowledgmentasheextendedhisarmtowardoneoftheemptychairstohisotherside.“Wouldyoucareforsomewine?”
“Thankyou,butthatwon’tbenecessary.Idon’twanttotakeuptoomuchofyourtimetonight.”Ramseygaveatightsmilethatdidnothingtoeasetheharshnessofhisgrizzledfeaturesashetooktheseat.“Ihavenews.”
“Of?”Claudemurmured,glancingatme.Itwasquick,butIsaw.
“TheWestlands,”hesaid.“There’sbeena…development.”
“Andwhatwouldthatbe?”Claudeasked.
RamseyleanedtowardtheBaron.“TherearerumorsthattheWestlands’CourtisatoddswiththeKing.”
MylittleoldearsperkedrightupasIloweredmychaliceandopenedmysenses.Inaroomofsomanypeople,Ihadtobecarefulnottobeoverwhelmed.IfocusedonlyonRamsey,creatingthisimaginarystringinmymind—acordthatconnectedmedirectlywithhim.Thoughtscouldbehardtomakesenseof—sometimesIheardmoreofacollectionofwordsthateithermatchedwhatonespokeorweresomethingcompletelydifferent.Eitherway,italwaystookmeamomenttogainmybearings,todecipherwhatIwashearingoutloudandwhatwasn’tbeingspoken.
“Ihavelittleinterestinrumors,”Claudereplied.
“Ithinkyouwillinthisone.”Ramsey’svoiceloweredasIheardIdoubtyouhaveinterestinanythingthatdoesn’tspreaditslegsandisn’twet.Irolledmyeyes.“TwochancellorsweresenttoVisaliaonbehalfoftheKing,”Ramseyreported,speakingofthelowbornmessengerswhoactedasgo-betweensfortheKingandthefiveCourts.“Thereappearedtobeaproblemwiththeirvisit,astheyweresentbacktoHisMajesty…”Themagnateallowedadramaticpause.“Inpieces.”
Iwasbarelyabletosmothermygasp.Iwouldconsiderbeingsentanywhereinpiecestobemorethanaproblem.
“Well,that’sconcerning.”Claudetookadeepdrinkofhiswine.
“There’smore.”
Claude’sgriptightenedonhisglass.“Can’twaittohear.”
“ThePrincessofVisaliahasbeenamassingasubstantialpresencealongtheborderbetweentheWestlandsandMidlands,”Ramseyshared,histhoughtsreflectingwhathespoke.“Morerumors,butonesalsobelievedtobetrue.”
“Andthissubstantialpresence?”Claudelookedoutoverthecrowdbelowhim.“Arewespeakingofherbattalion?”
“HersandtheIronKnightsiswhatI’mhearing.”Ramseyshifted,droppingalargehandtohisknee.
SurpriseflickeredthroughmeasIsetthechaliceonthetray.TheIronKnights,agroupofrebelliouslowbornwhoweremorelikeraidersthanactualknights,hadbeencausingproblemsthroughoutthebordertownsintheMidlandsandLowlandsforthelastyear.FromwhatIknew,theywantedtoseetheHyhbornkingreplacedwithalowbornone,andeventhoughIdidn’tpaymuchmindtopoliticsunlessIhadto,IknewtheyweregainingsupportthroughoutCaelum.ItwaskindofhardnottowhenIknewpeoplewhobelievedthatVayneBeylen—theCommanderoftheIronKnights—couldchangetherealmforthebetter,butIdidn’tseehowthatwouldbepossibleiftheywerejoiningforceswiththeWestlands’Hyhborn.
Claudedrewhisthumboverhischin.“AndhavetheycrossedintotheMidlands?”
“NotthatIhaveheard.”
“WhataboutBeylen?”Claudeasked.“Hashebeenspotted?”
“ThatisanotherthingIcannotanswer,”Ramseysaid,whilethinking,Ifthatbastardisspotted,he’llbeadeadone.Somethingaboutthatthoughtwasdisquieting,becauseitwasalmostasifBeylen’sdeathwouldbeupsetting.TheIronKnightsweregainingtractionamonglowborn,butusuallythewealthyonesdidn’twanttoseetheIronKnightsucceed.Doingsojeopardizedthestatusquo.“ButArchwoodisquitethedistancefromtheborder.TherewillbeatleastawarningiftheIronKnightsdomoveintoourlands,butiftheytravelpastthebordertowns?Thiswouldnolongerbearebellion.”
“No,”Claudemurmured.“Itwouldbeanactofwar.”
MychestfeltfartootightasIseveredtheconnectionI’dforgedwiththemagnate.IglancedatGrady,thentothecrowd.Therehadbeennowars,notsincetheGreatWarthattookplacefourcenturiesagoandleftnearlynothingoftherealmbehind.
“Idonotthinkitwillcometothat,”Ramseysaid.
“NordoI.”Claudenoddedslowly.“Thankyoufortheinformation.”Heleanedbackinhischair.“Iwouldkeepthisquietuntilweknowmoreforsure,lestwehaveapaniconourhands.”
“Agreed.”
TheBaronwassilentasRamseyroseanddescendedthedais.TheshippingmagnatewasnolongervisibleinthecrowdwhenClaudeturnedhisattentiontowardme.“Whatdoyouknow?”
Andherewasthecruxofourarrangement.HowIbenefitedhim.Sometimesitwaslearningofanother’sfutureorlisteninginonthethoughtsofanotherbaron,iftheywereuptosomethingoriftheycametoArchwoodingoodfaith.Thereweretimeswhenitrequiredamore…hands-onapproachformetoknow.
Butnotthistime.
Assoonasheaskedhisquestion,achillmovedthroughme.Thecoldnesssettledinthecenterofmyshoulderblades.MystomachhollowedasIreachedbeneathmyheavylengthofdarkhairandtouchedthespacebehindmyleftear,whereitfeltlikesomeonehadpressedacoldkiss.Thevoiceamongmythoughtsspokeawarning.
He’scoming.CHAPTER3
ThedullacheinmyheadthatcamefromwheneverIwasaroundsomanypeopleeasedonlywhenIreturnedtomyquarters.Iwastired,butmymindwasfartoorestlessformetoeventhinkofsleepasIenteredthebathingchamber.
Iquicklyscrubbedthepaintfrommyfaceandbraidedmyhair.Afterslippingonmynightgown,Idonnedalightweight,cap-sleevedrobethatbeltedatthewaistasItoedonapairofthin-soledboots.Islippedoutoftheterracedoorsofmyquartersandintothehumidnightair,thencrossedthenarrowpatioandstartedacrossthebacklawn.Itmust’verainedabitago,butthecloudshadcleared.Withtheglowofthefullmooncastingsilverylightalongthegrassandstonepathway,Imadenoattempttohidemymovementsfromthosepatrollingthemanorwallsinthedistance.TheBaronwaswellawareofmynighttimetravelsandhadnoproblemwiththem.
Duringtheday,cityfolkoftenenteredthegroundsofthemanortowanderthegardens,butitwasquietandpeacefulatthistimeofnight.Thesamecouldnotbesaidaboutinsidethemanor,wherethepartywasjustbeginningintheGreatChamber.Allthearistounawarethatsomethingwascoming.
Someonewascoming.
Mystomachwriggledasifitwerefullofserpents.CoulditbewarningmeoftheIronKnights—theirCommander?Itwastheonlythingthatmadesense,butwhywouldtheIronKnightsbeworkingwiththePrincessofVisalia?
TryingtoseeintothefuturewheretheDeminyenswereinvolvedwasnearlyasunhelpfulastryingtoseemyown.Myso-calledgiftswerenohelptherewhenIeitherheardorsawnothing,orreceivedonlyvagueimpressions.
IthoughtofClaude’sresponsetomypremonition.TheBaronhadgonequietbeforedecidingthatKingEuroswouldsurelydosomethingtopreventwhateverpoliticalunrestwasoccurringbetweentheCrownandtheWestlandsfromspillingoverintotheMidlands.Hismoodimprovedthen,butminehadworsened,becauseallIcouldthinkofwasAstoria,theonce-greatcityontheborderbetweentheMidlandsandtheWestlands.ItwassaidtohavebeennotonlythebirthplaceofVayneBeylenbutalsowherethosewhosoughttojointherebellionhadbeengivenrefuge.
KingEuroshadsanctionedthedestructionofAstoria,andthePrinceofVytrushaddeliveredtheKing’swrath.Thousandshadbeendisplaced,andonlythegodsknewhowmanyhadbeenkilled.Allthatthatdevastationhadaccomplishedwasthecreationofmorerebels.
So,Iwasn’trelievedbytheideaoftheKingbecominginvolved.
SighingasIpassedthedarkenedbuildingswherethemanorblacksmithandotherworkersspenttheirdays,Isawthestablescomeintoview.IgrinnedasIcaughtsightofGerold,oneofthestablegrooms,slumberingproppedagainstthewall,legsspreadwideinthestraw.Seeingtheemptybottleofwhiskeybetweenhisthighs,Icrackedagrin.Geroldwouldn’tbewakinganytimesoon.
Ipassedseveralstalls,headingfortheback,whereabeautifulsablemarenibbledonalate-nightsnackofalfalfaintheglowoflanternlight.Ilaughedundermybreath.“Iris,howareyoualwayseating?”
Themarehuffed,eartwitching.
Smiling,Iranmyhandoverherglossycoat.IriswasoneofmanygiftsfromClaude.ShewastheonlyhorseI’deverowned,andshewasmyfavoriteofallthegiftshe’dbestoweduponmeeventhoughshedidn’t…shedidn’tfeellikeshewastrulymine.
NothinginArchwooddid,notevenaftersixyears.Everythingstillfelttemporaryandonloan.Everythingstillfeltlikeitcouldberippedoutfrombeneathmeatanygivensecond.
Ipickedupabrushandstartedwithhermane,brushingatthebottomsofthestrandsindownwardsections.BesidesthegardensandthelittlesectionI’dcultivatedformyselfovertheyears,thestablesweretheonlyplacewhereIfelt…Ididn’tknow.Peace?FoundpleasureinthesimplenessoftakingcareofIris?Ithoughtitwasthesound—thesoftwhinnyofallthehorsesandthedragoftheirhoovesonthestraw-strewnfloor.Eventhesmells—though,whenthestableshadn’tbeenmucked,notsomuch.ButIlikedithere,anditwaswhereIspentmuchofmyfreetime.Thestablesweren’tasgoodatsilencingmyintuition,though.Onlylargequantitiesofalcoholandhavingmyhandsinsoilaccomplishedthat.Still,itbroughtmepleasure,andthatwasimportanttomeandtotheHyhborn.
Mynosewrinkled.Ihadnoideahowthey…theyfedonuswhentherewerenonearound.AtleastfromwhatIcouldtell.Isupposeditwassomethingweweren’tsupposedtoknow,andIalsoguessedIwasprobablybetteroffnotunderstanding.
AsIbrushedIris’smane,thepartofmethatwasaworriertookover—thepartthathadlearnedtoexpectthebadandfeartheworstinallsituations.WhatwouldhappeniftheunrestinthewestmadeitswayintotheMidlands—toArchwood?Mystomachknottedwithdread.
BeforeArchwood,allthedifferenttownsGradyandIhadlivedinblurredintoonenightmare.Findingcoinwhateverwaywecould.Takinganyjobthatwouldhirepeopleourageandresortingtothieverywhenwecouldn’tfindwork.Norealplansforthefuture.Howcouldtherebewheneveryminuteofeverydaywasspentonsurviving—onallthose“not”s?Notstarving.Notgettingcaught.Notbecomingavictimtoanynumberofpredators.Notgettingsick.Notgivingup—andgods,thatwasthehardestwhentherewasnorealhopeofanythingmore,becauseinevitably,weendedthesameaswehadbegun.
Running.
Runningaway.
GradyandIhadfledUnionCitythenighttheHyhbornappearedintheorphanage,stowingawayononeofthestagecoachesheadedoutoftheLowlands.I’dbeenconvincedthatwe’descaped.Anditwaskindoffunnyinasad,somewhatdisturbingwaytothinkbackonhowscaredI’dbeenthatnight—soafraidthattheHyhbornwoulddiscoverthatIwasdifferentandtakeme.Hurtme.Orevenkillme.Tothisday,Ididn’tknowwhyI’dbeensoafraidofthat.Hyhbornhadnointerestinlice-infestedorphans.Notevenonewhoseintuitionalertedthemtoanother’sintentionsorallowedthemtoseethefuture.
Butafterthatnight,allwe’ddonewasrunandrun,andifArchwoodweretofall,wewouldreturntothatlifeoncemore,andI…Myhandtrembled.Thatterrifiedmemorethananything—evenmorethanspidersandothercreepy,crawlythings.EventhinkingofitmademefeelasifmylungsweredecompressingandIwasonthevergeoflosingtheabilitytobreathe.
Iwoulddoanythingtomakesurethatdidn’thappen.ThatneitherGradynorIhadtogobacktosurvivingallthose“not”s.
ButasImovedontoIris’stail,anall-too-familiaritchy,suffocatingfeelingoflonelinesssettledovermelikeacoarseblanket.Therewerefarmoreimportantthingstobeworriedaboutatthemoment,buttherewerefewfeelingsworsethanloneliness.Ormaybethereactuallyweren’tany,andlonelinesswastheworst,becauseitwaspervasive,hardtoshake,evenwhenyouweren’talone,anditworkedovertimetoconvinceyouthatcontentmentandjoywerepossible.
Butthatwasalie.
Whenyoutrulyspentmostofyourtimealone?Whenyouhadto?Andnotbecauseyouwantedto?Therewasnojoytobefound.Thatwasmyfuture.Forhoweverlongthatmightbe.Butthefuturewouldn’tbeanydifferent—whetherIwashereorelsewhere.
Thatlonelinesswouldremain.
ThedarknessofmythoughtshauntedmeasIusedabrushonIris’scoat.Iblewoutanaggravatedbreath.Ineededtothinkofsomethingelse—
Listen.
Mybodysuddenlyfroze.Frowning,Iturnedandscannedtheshadowedaisleofthestables,hearingonlythesoundsoftheotherhorsesandGerold’sfaintsnores.Myhandtightenedonthebrushasanacutesenseofawarenesswashedoverme.Itwasn’tachillofunease.Thiswasdifferent.Thepressurebetweenmyshoulderswassomethingelseentirely.AnintuitionthatIfollowed,whereveritled.Ormoreaccurately,itwasademand.
Curious,Iwalkedoutofthestall,lettingmyintuitionguideme.I’dlearnedlongagothatI’dgetlittlerestifIactuallymanagedtoignoreit,whichIwasrarelycapableofdoing.
Iwalkedtowardthebackofthebarn,wherethedoorswerecracked,mystepsquiet.JustasIwenttopushthedooropen,Iheardvoices.
“Didyougethim?”Themuffledwordstraveledthroughthewood.Thevoicesoundedfamiliar.“Andyou’resurehe’snotonefromPrimverayoumistook?”
Mybreathcaught.Ifthe“he”theyspokeofcould’vebeenmistakenassomeonefromPrimvera,thentheyspokeofaHyhbornandlikelyaDeminyen,astheydidn’tliveinlowborncitiesbutresidedintheirCourts.
“BecausehowdoyouthinkIknewwhathewasinthefirstplace?IsawhimandIrememberedwhathewassupposedtolooklike,”anothervoiceanswered,andthisoneIrecognizedimmediatelyduetohisunique,gravellytone.AguardwhowentbyMickie,butIknewhisactualnamewasMatthewLaske,andhewas…well,badnews.HewasoneoftheguardswhoeagerlyaidedHymelwhenitcametocollectingrent.“He’stheoneMurielhaduswaitingfor.I’msure,Finn.”
AnotherofClaude’sguards.AyoungmanwithdarkhairwhoalwayssmiledwheneverIsawhim,anditwasanicesmile.
IknewIshouldn’teavesdrop;rarelydidanythinggoodcomefromthat.Butthat’swhatIdid,becausepressurehadsettledinthespacebetweenmyshoulderbladesandhadbeguntotingle.Icrossedthefootortwotothesharedwallandleanedagainstit.UnsureofwhyIwascompelledtodosoorwhatmyintuitionwaspickingupon,Iobeyedtheurgeandlistened.
“Andontopofhimbeingaspittin’imageofwhatMurielsaid,ifhewasfromPrimvera,Idoubthe’dbeslinkin’aroundtheTwinBarrels,”Mickiecontinued,referencingoneofthebawdytavernsinArchwood.I’dbeenthereatimeortwowithNaomi.ItwasnotaplaceI’dthinkaHyhbornwouldnormallyspendtimein.“Anyway,ItookhimtoJac’sbarn.”
“Areyoushittin’me?”Finndemanded.“Youtookthatthingtohisbarn?WhenJacisoffgettingsuckedandfuckedeverywayfromSunday?”
Mybrowslifted.Ididn’tknowofanyonebythenameofMuriel,butIdidknowwhoJacwas.Ablacksmith—thewidowedblacksmithwhowasinlinetoreplacetheBaron’spersonalsmithy.HesometimessteppedinwhentheBaron’sownfellbehind.SodidGrady,whohadanunbelievablenaturalknackforforgingmetal.
“Don’tyalookatmelikethat,”Mickiegrowled.“Portermadesureheain’twakingupanytimesoon,”hesaid,namingtheowneroftheTwinBarrels.“Servedhimthehousespecial.”Theguardchuckled.“Hisassisknocked,andwhatIputinhimwillkeephimdownforthecount.Heain’tgoin’anywhere.He’llbethere,readyforustohandlehimwhenJacisfinishedhavin’himselfagoodnightinafewhours.”
Mystomachhollowedasthetinglingbetweenmyshoulderbladesintensified.Withoutseeingthem,Iwouldn’tbeabletopeerintotheirthoughts,butmyintuitionwasalreadyfillinginthegapsinwhattheyweresaying,causingmypulsetopickup.
“Gottoadmit,I’mdamnedrelievedIwasrightabouthimandIdidn’tgoandkilloneofourown,”Mickiesaidwithanotherraspylaugh.“PorterputenoughoftheFool’sParsleyinthatwhiskeyheservedthatifhewasalowborn,itwould’vedroppedhisassdeadonthespot,evenwithoneortwosips.”
Fool’sParsley,alsoknownashemlock,coulddoexactlywhatMickieclaimeddependingontheamountingested.
MyheartsankasIheldIris’sbrushtomychest,becauseIknewwhatwastobecomeofthatHyhborn.
“Ifyasoworriedabouthimescapin’,”Mickiewassaying,“Icanheadbackandputanotherspikeinhim.”
Nausearosesharply.TheyputspikesinaHyhborn?Gods,thatwas…thatwasterrible,butIneededtostoplisteningandstartpretendingthatIheardnothing.Thisdidn’tinvolveme.
“Weneedhimalive,remember?”Finn’svoicesnappedwithimpatience.“Youputtoomuchofthatshitinhim,hewon’tbeofanyusetous.”
Ididn’twalkaway.
“We’llwaittillJac’supatdawn,”Finnsaid.“HeknowshowtogetthewordouttoMuriel.IgotabottleofsomegoodshitoutoftheBaron’scellars.”Hisvoicewasfading.“Andwe’llheadovertoDavie’s…”
Istrainedtohearmore,buttheyhadmovedtoofaraway.I’dheardenough,though.TheyhadcapturedaHyhborn,andIcouldthinkofonlyonereasonwhysomeonewoulddosomethingsoinsanelyfoolish—toharvesttheHyhborn’spartsforuseinbonemagic.Mymouthdried.Goodgods,Ididn’tknowthatwashappeninginArchwood,andwasn’tthataterriblynaivethingtothink?Ofcourse,theshadowmarketwaseverywhere,ineverycityineveryterritory,blossomingwhereverdesperationcouldbefound.
Iclosedmyeyesasthetinglingbetweenmyshoulderbladesturnedtotensionthatsettledinthemusclesliningmyspine.Noneofthiswasmyproblem.
ButmystomachcurdledasIturnedandstartedwalking.Thepressuremoved,settlingonmychest,andinmymind,IcouldhearthatannoyingvoiceofminewhisperingIamwrong—thatthisHyhbornwasmyproblem.Thetensionincreased,twistingupmystomachevenfurther.Anditwasn’tjustmyproblem.ItwasArchwood’s.TheHyhbornhaddestroyedentireneighborhoodstoferretoutthosebelievedtobeinvolvedinbonemagic.Citieshadbeendestroyed.
“Butit’snotmyproblem,”Iwhispered.“It’snot.”
Butthatundeniableurgetointervene—tohelpthisHyhborn—wasasstrongasanyimpressionI’dgotteninmylife.Maybeevenstronger.
“Fuck,”Igroaned.
Spinningaround,IhurriedbacktoIris’sstall,thehemofmycloaksnappingaroundmyboots.Goingtothemanorwasn’tanoption.TheBaronwouldbeutterlyuselessatthistimeofnight,andIdidn’twanttoinvolveGradyinthisincasethingswentsideways.
Whichwasahighlikelihood.
Shit.Shit.Shit.
Igrabbedthebridleoffthewall.“Sorry,girl,Iknowit’slate,”Isaidassheturnedherhead,nosingmyhand.Igaveherascratchbehindtheearandthenslippedherbridleon,attachingthereins.“We’llmakethisasquickaspossible.”
Irisshookherhead,andIdecidedthatwasanagreementwheninrealityshewaslikelyshowingherannoyanceatbeinginterrupted.
Ididn’twanttowastetimewithasaddle,butIwasn’tagoodenoughridertogobareback.SoItooktheminutestosaddleher,double-checkingIhaditsecuredcorrectly,justasClaudehadshownme.Afive-minutedelaywasbetterthanabrokenneck.
Grippingthepommel,Ihauledmyselfupandsettledintothesaddle.IwaslikelymakingahugemistakeasIguidedIrisoutofherstall,quicklypickingupspeed,butIcouldn’tturnbackasIracedacrossthelawn.Notwheneverypartofmybeingwasdrivingmeforward.Itdidn’tmatterthatIhadnoideawhy.Nordidtherisks.
IhadtosavetheHyhborn.
Whatareyoudoing?
Whatintheworldareyoudoing?
Thatquestioncycledoverandover,orsomevariationofit,asIrodethroughthedark,rain-dampenedstreetsofArchwood,makingmywaytowhatIhopedwastheblacksmith’s,myintuitionmyonlyguide.Icouldn’tanswerit.Imightbeaworrier,butthathadn’tstoppedmefrommakingextraordinarilybadlifechoices.Thishadtobeoneofthemostreckless,foolishthingsI’deverdoneinmylife,andI’ddonesomeidioticthings.Likenotthatlongago,whenItriedtousherthatlittlegartersnakefromtheflowersinsteadofdoingthereasonablethingandsimplyleavingitalone.Iendedupwithanicebiteonmyfingerinsteadofathank-you.OrwhenIwasyoungerandjumpedoutthewindowofafoundlinghometoseeifIcouldfly.HowIhadn’tbrokenabonewasbeyondme.Thereweremany,manyotherexamples.
Thiswentbeyondreckless,though.Itwasinsane.Hyhbornweredangerous,andthisonecouldeasilyturnonme,muchlikethatdamngartersnakehad.AndtherewastheriskofgettingcaughtbythosewhohaddruggedthisHyhborn.NodoubtIhadbeenspottedpassingthroughthemanorgatesbytheguardsthere.Thehoodonmycloakhadbeenup,buttheycouldrecognizeIris.Thatalonewouldn’tarousesuspicion,butI’dbeenseenandcouldpossiblybeidentified.Andwhoknewhowmanyotherguardswereinvolvedinthis?Claudewasmyprotectorinaway,butthetypeofpeoplewhowouldcaptureaHyhbornweren’tthekindtofearabaron’swrath.AndifGradyfoundout?Hewouldsurelylosehismind.OrthinkI’dlostmine—andhonestly,Iquitepossiblycouldhave.
Keepingthehoodofmycloakup,IslowedIrisasIpassedthedarkenedstorefrontoftheblacksmith’s.Iturnedthehorsetowardthemouthofanarrowalley,andsheimmediatelyprancednervously.Somethingsmallwithclawsandagrosstailscamperedacrossthepath,causingmetoswallowashriek.
IfreakinghatedratsmorethanIhatedspiders.
“Let’spretendthatwasabunny,”IwhisperedtoIris.
Thehorsehuffedinresponseaswerodethroughthealley,splashingwaterandwhoknewwhat.IowedIrisanicecleaningafterthisandpossiblyanappleandacarrot.
Passingstallsfullofhalf-completedmetaltools,IspottedthebarnMickiehadspokenof.Itsatbutteduptothewoods.Therewasnosignoflifeoutside,andonlythefaintglowofeithergas-orcandlelightleakedbetweenthecracksofthebarndoors.IurgedIrispastthebarnandintothewoods,whichprovidedherwithsomeshelterwhilekeepingherhidden.Dismounting,Ilandedonmyfeetwithagrunt,reinsinhand.Itiedthemtoanearbytree,leavingherenoughroomtomoveabout.
“Don’teateverythinginsight,”IwarnedherasIrubbedhernose.“Iwon’tbegonelong.”
Irisimmediatelystartedgrazing.
Sighing,Iturnedbacktothebarnandstartedforward,tellingmyselfIwassogoingtoregretthis.
Ididn’tneedanyspecialgiftstorealizethat,butIdashedacrossthemoonlight-drenchedpatchofpackedearthandreachedthesideofthebarn.Pressingagainsttheweatheredwood,Iroseontothetipsofmytoesandpeeredintothewindows.Theyweretoohighformetoreallyseeanythingbutthefaintyellowglow,buttheonlythingIheardwasthepoundingofmyheart.
NeitherMickienorFinnhadmentionedanyonewatchingovertheHyhborn,soIdidn’tthinkanyoneelsewasinsidethatbarn.Iwaitedafewmomentsandthenprowledaroundthecorner.Imadeittothedoors,notatallsurprisedtoseethattheyweren’tlocked.
Mickiewasn’tthebrightestofmen.
Tellingmyselfyetagainthatthiswasahugemistake,Islidmyglovedfingersbetweenthedoors.Ihesitatedandthenslowlyinchedthemopen,wincingasthehingescreakedmoreloudlythanthefloorofmyquartersdid.Itensed,halfexpectingsomeonetocomebarrelingtowardme.
Noonedid.
AfinelayerofsweatdottedmyforeheadasIsqueezedbetweentheopeningandthenforcedthedoorclosedbehindme.Lookingovermyshoulder,IranmyhandsoverthedoorsasIscannedtheshadowytwofrontstallsofthecenteraisle.Ifoundthelatchandthrewit,realizingthatthedulllightwascomingfromtheback.
Iproceededdowntheaisle,askingmyselfanothervalidquestion.WhatinthewholewiderealmwasIgoingtodowiththeHyhborn?Ifhewasunconscious,IdoubtedIcouldmovehim.Probablyshould’vethoughtofthatbeforeIembarkedonthejourney.
Ididn’tthinkIhadeverwantedtopunchmyselfmorethanIdidatthatmoment.
Inearedtheendoftheaisle.Myheartwasnowlikeachild’srubberball,bouncingoffmyribs.Thelamplightspilledoutweaklyfromastalltomyleft.Holdingmybreath,Ireachedtheedgeandlookedinside.
MyentirebodywentrigidasIstaredintothestall,wantingtodenywhatIwasseeing.
Amanwasstretchedoutonawoodentable.Strippedtothewaist.Spikesamilky-whitecolorwerethrustdeepintohisforearmsandhisthighs,andonejuttedoutofthecenterofhisbarechest,maybeaninchortwofromwherehisheartwouldbe.IknewwhattheyweremadeofeventhoughI’donlyeverheardofthemLuneawastheonlyobjectabletopiercetheskinofaHyhborn,anditwasforbiddenforanylowborntobeinpossessionofit,butIwasbettingthebladeswereanotherthingtradedontheshadowmarket.
Sickened,Iliftedmygazetowherehisheadwasturnedtotheside.Shoulder-lengthgolden-brownhairshieldedhisface.
Astrangesensationwentthroughme—awhooshasIwalkedforward,barelyabletofeelmylegsasIlookeddownathischest.Hebreathed,butbarely.Ididn’tseehow,withallthebloodcoursingfromthewounds.Somuchred.Crimsonstreakedhischest,flowinginriversthatfollowedthe…theratherdefinedlinesofhischestandstomach.Hispantsweremadeofsomesortofsoftleather,andtheyhunglowenoughonhishipsthatIcouldseetheslabsofmusclesoneithersideofhishipsand—
Okay,whatintheworldwasIdoing,staringthatintenselyatamanwhilehelayunconscious,impaledtoawoodentable?
Therewassomethingwrongwithme.
Therewerelotsofvariedthingswrongwithme.
“H-Hello,”Icroaked,thenwincedatthesoundofmyvoice.
Therewasnoresponse.
Ididn’tevenknowwhyIexpectedone,withthosesortsofwounds.NorcouldIreallyunderstandhowtheHyhborncouldstillbebreathing.Stillbleeding.Yes,theywerenearlyindestructiblecomparedtomortals,butthis…thiswasalot.
Thetoeofmybootbrushedsomethingonthefloor.Iglanceddown,jawclenching.Abucket.Smallbuckets,actually.Iliftedmygazetothetable.Narrowcanalscarvedintothewoodcollectedthebloodrunningfromhim,funnelingittothebucketsbelow.
“Gods,”Irasped,stomachchurningasIstaredatthebuckets.Thebloodwouldbesoldtobeusedinbonemagic,aswouldotherpartsoftheHyhborn.Ihonestlycouldn’tsayifanyofthatstuffactuallyworkedwhenwieldedbyaconjurer,butaslongaspeoplebelievedinpotionsandspells,therewouldbeademand.
Tearingmygazefromthebuckets,IfiguredIneededtosomehowwakehim.Istaredatthespikeinhischest.
IntuitiontoldmewhatIneededtodo.Removethespikes,startingwiththeoneinhischest.Iswallowedagain,throatdryasIglancedup.Hisheadwasstillturnedawayfromme,butnowthatIwascloser,Icouldseetherewasadiscolorationinhisskinalongthesideofhisneck.Ipeeredcloser—no,notadiscoloration.A…apatterninhisskin,onethatresembledavine.Itwasarussetbrowninsteadofthesandyhueoftherestofhisflesh,andtherewassomethingaboutthetrailing,almostswirlingdesignthatstruckachordoffamiliarityinme,butIdidn’tthinkI’deverseensuchathing.
Ilookedbacktotheluneaspikeinhischestandstartedtoreachforitbuthaltedasmygazeliftedtothedampstrandsofhairshieldinghisface.Myheartpounded.
Thatwhooshingsensationwentthroughmeagain.
Handtrembling,Ibrushedthehairaside,revealingmoreofthatmarkinhisskin.Therusset-brownpatterntraveledalongthecurveofastrongjaw,thinningatthetemple,andthenfollowingthehair-linetothecenterofhisforehead.Therewasafingertip-widthgapandthenthemarkbeganagainontheotherside,thepatternframinghisface.Thefleshbeneaththeeyebrow,slightlydarkerthanhishair,wasswollen,aswerebothofhiseyes.Ridiculouslylonglashesfannedskinthatwasanangryshadeofred.Bloodcakedtheskinbeneathhisnose,skinhadbeensplitopenalongcheeksthatwerehighandcarved,andlips…
“Oh,gods.”Ijerkedbackastep,pressingmyfisttomychest.
Themarkingsframinghisfacehadn’tbeenthereallthoseyearsago,andthisHyhborn’sfacewasterriblybruised,butitwashim.
MyHyhbornlord.CHAPTER4
WhatI’dfeltthelasttimeI’dseenhimsurgedthroughme.
Awarning.
Areckoning.
Apromiseofwhatwastocome.
Ihadn’tunderstoodwhatthatmeantthenandIstilldidn’t,butitwashim.
Shockheldmeimmobile.Icouldn’tbelieveiteventhoughI’dalwaysknownI’dseehimagain.I’dexpected,practicallywaitedforhisreturn,butIstillwasn’tpreparedtofindmyselfstandingabovehim.
SuddenlyIthoughtofthepremonition.He’scoming.I’dbeenwrong.IthadnothingtodowiththeCommanderoftheIronKnights.
Ithadbeenabouthim.
Ahigh-pitchedgigglepartedmylips,shockingme.Ismackedmyhandovermymouth,bodytensing.
Hedidn’tmove.
SuddenlyIwonderedifthismomentwaswhyI’dfeltwhatIhadallthoseyearsagoinUnionCity.Thatmaybeithadbeenawarningthatonedayourpathswouldcross,andhewouldneedmyhelp.
LikehehadhelpedGradyandmethatnight.
Iowedhim.
ButhewasaHyhbornlord—aDeminyen—andallIcouldthinkofwasthatdamngartersnake.
Returningtothetable,Iswallowed.“Please…pleasedon’thurtme.”
Igrippedthetopoftheluneaspike,gasping.Thestonewaswarm.Hot.Iclosedmyeyes,thenpulled.Thespikedidn’tbudge.
“Oh,comeon,”Imuttered,pryingopenaneye.Iplacedmyhandonhischest,besidethewound.Hisskin…itwasunnaturallyhard,butIfeltandheardnothing.Ididn’tknowifthatwasbecauseofwhathewasorbecausemythoughtswerejusttoochaoticformysensestokickin,buttherewasafarbiggerconcernthanpotentiallydiscoveringwhetherIcouldreadaHyhbornlikeIcouldamortaloriftheywouldbelikeacaelestia.
WhatifIcouldn’tgetthestakesout?
Takinganotherbreath,Iclosedmyeyesandyankedagain.Thewetsoundoftheluneaslipping,tearingbackthroughhisflesh,turnedmystomach.Ichokedonagagasitcamefree.Droppingthestaketothestraw-strewnfloorbelow,Iopenedoneeyeandthentheother.Thejaggedskinoftheholeinhischest…smoked.
Allright,Iwasn’tgoingtothinkaboutthat.MyhandshookasIreachedforthespikeinhisleftthigh.
Athudfromsomewhereoutsidethestalljerkedmyheadaround.Mystomachdropped.Shit.Makingsurethehoodofmycloakwasstillup,Icreptbacktotheedgeofthestallandwaitedforanothersound.WhenIdidn’thearanything,Isteppedintotheaisle.Thebarndoorsremainedclosed.Thesoundhadlikelybeenananimalrunningabout.Probablyarat.Alargeone.I’dseensomethesizeofsmalldogs.
Shuddering,Istartedtostepback—
Arushofairstirredtheedgesofmycloak.Iwentcompletelystill,holdingmybreath.Shiveryawarenessbrokeoutacrossthenapeofmyneck.Tinyhairsrosethereandalongmyarms.Theatmosphereofthebarnshifted,thickened.Slowly,Iturned.
Fourluneaspikesremained,glisteningwithbrightredblood,embeddeddeepinthetable—theotherwiseemptytable.
Thegaslampwentout,plungingthestallandthebarnintoutter,absolutedarkness.
Instinct,thatficklebitchthathadledmehere,wastellingmesomethingelsenow.Tomove.Togetthehellout.Torun.
Imadeitastepbeforeabodycrashedintomine,takingmedown.AirpunchedoutofmylungsasIhitthehay-strewnfloorhard.WhatGradyhadshownmeabouthowtodefendmyselfovertheyears—whatI’dhadtolearnthehardway—propelledmybodyintoaction.MyfingersscrapedagainstthefloorasIliftedmyhips,attemptingtothrowtheheavyweightoffme.
TheHyhbornlordpressedmeintothedustanddirtasthesoundrumblingoutofhim,andsimultaneouslythroughme,turnedmybloodcold.Thegrowlwassomethingakintothatofananimal—averyangry,verywildanimal.Everymuscleinmybodylockedup.Inthosebriefseconds,Irealizedhemightnotbeabletorecognizeme—orbeabletoevenseemeintheconditionthathewasin.
“Leavingsosoon?”hesnarled.“Just…asthefunbegins?Idon’tthinkso.”
Hemovedsofast—everythinghappenedsofast,givingmenotimetoreact.Hejerkedmeoffthefloor.Istumbled,hittingtheedgeofthetable.Bucketsrattled,tippingover.Ijumpedawayfromthefallingbuckets.Mybootedfeetslippedoutfromunderneathme.Iwentdownagain,crackingmykneesoffthefloor—theblood-coveredfloor—andit…ohno,itwasstillwarm.Icouldfeelitsoakingmyknees,coatingmypalms.Igasped,startingtopushup.
“Youwanted…mybloodsobadly,”heseethed,hisvoicegravellyandnothinglikeI’dremembereditsounding.“Nowyou…youwilldrowninit.”
Mystartledcrywasendedbythehandthatclampeddownonmythroat,allowingonlythethinnestbreathtopass.HehauledmetothesidelikeIwasnothingmorethanaragdoll.PanicexplodedfromdeepwithinasIgrabbedhishandandshovedmyelbowbackintohisstomach.PainexplodedalongmyarmasImethard,unyieldingflesh.Itriedtopryhisfingersloose,buttheydidn’tbudgeashedraggedmeacrossthefloor.Strawdugintomyhipasmyarmbangedintooneofthestill-standingbuckets.Horrorsankitsclawsintome.Hefullyintendedtodoashethreatened—drownmeinhisblood.
Tinyburstsofwhiteexplodedbehindmyeyes.Therewasn’tenoughair.MychesthurtasIbeatonhisarm,gettingnowhere.Idugathisgrip,legsthrashingasIstruggledtofreemyself,abletoforceonlyonewordfree.“Please.”
TheHyhbornlordhalted,hisfingersstillpressingintomythroat.ThenIwassuddenlyyankedtomyfeet.Pressuresuddenlyleftmythroat.Airpouredin,andIgulpedit,chokingandgaggingasmylegsgaveout.
Ididn’thitthegroundthistime.
TheHyhborncaughtmeatthewaist,hisarmtightening.Hewentcompletelystillagainstme.
“Please,”Irepeated,myheartthunderingoutofcontrol.“Icametohelpyou.”
“You’re…claimingyouhad…nothingtodowiththis?”hedemanded.
“I…Ididn’t.”
“Bullshit.”Thatonewordbrushedupagainstmycheek.
“Ioverheard…whatwasdonebeingtalkedabout.”Ipushedagainsthischest,needingspace—needingmoreairandlight.Hedidn’tbudge.Notevenaninch.WhateverbasicmethodsofdefendingmyselfIknewwouldn’thelpagainstaHyhborn.HeheldmelikeIwasnothingmorethanaflailingkitten.“Iwas…Iwastryingtohelp.”Iswallowed,wincingattherawnessasIliftedmyhandsfromhischest.TheyshookasIheldtheminthesmallspacebetweenus.“I…Iswear.They…theyputFool’sParsleyinsomethinggiventoyou—”
Anothergrowlrumbledoutofhim.
“Iswear.Ionlycametohelp,”Iwhisperedwhilemypulsethunderedoutofcontrol.Inolongerfelthisbreathagainstmycheek.Anothermomentpassedandthenthegaslampflickedon,causingmetoflinch.Thedimglowslicedthroughtheunnaturaldarkness.Iblinkeduntilmysurroundingscameintoview.
IwasstaringattheHyhborn’schest—attheraggedholethatseepedbloodandstillsmoked….
Hegrabbedthebackofmyhoodwithhisotherhand,rippingitdown.Hunksofdamphairshieldedhisfaceashestareddownatme.
Didherecognizeme?ThatseemedimprobablegiventhatIlookednothinglikeIhadmorethanadecadeago.
TheLordsuddenlyswayed.Inthenextheartbeat,hewentdownonhisknees,takingmewithhim,exceptIlandedonmyassbeforehim.Thegaslampsputteredweakly,beforestayingon.
Istartedtoscootback,butstoppedashefellforward,ontohisfists.Onlythecurveofhischinandonesideofhislipswerevisible.Hisshouldersweremovingnowwithrapidbreaths.
“Why?”Eachbreathhetooksoundedpained.“Whywould…you…helpme?”
“Idon’tknow.”Ipulledmylegsawayfromhim.“Ijustdidn’tthinkwhattheyweredoingwasright,andIneededtohelp.”
Hesaidsomethingtoolowformetoreallyhear.MygazesweptoverwhatIcouldseeofhisbentbody.Hewasbreathingtoohard,toofast.Concernrippledthroughme.“Ididn’tknowwhatconditionyou’dbeinwhenIcametohelp.”Iglancedatthered,seepingwoundalonghisarm.Hehad…he’dpulledhislimbsfreefromthespikes.“Iremovedthespikefromyourchest.”
Therewasnoresponse.
“Mylord?”Iwhispered,theconcerngrowingintofull-blownanxiety.
Silence.
“Areyouallright?”Icringedthemomentthequestionleftmymouth.Ofcoursehewasn’tallright.He’djustbeendrugged,beaten,andimpaledtoatable.
Bitingdownonmylip,IleanedforwardasIliftedmyhands.Carefully,Ibrushedthehairbackfromhisface—
Igasped,jerkinginhorror.Thestrikinglinesofhisfacewerecontortedinpain.Hiseyeswereopen—atleastthatwaswhatIthought,butIcouldn’tbesure,becausewhatIsawwasjustpink,raw,andseepingfleshwhereeyesshouldbe.
“Theytookthem,”hebreathed.
AfrayedsortofsoundchokedmeasIstaredathim,unabletocomprehendhowthatcouldbedonetoanyone.Howsomeonecouldinflictsuchdamage,suchpain.“I’msorry,”Iwhispered,myowneyesstinging.“I’msosorry—”
“Stop,”hegrunted,rockingback,outofmyreach.“Youhave…nothingtoapologizeforifyou…didn’tdothis.”
Aholeopenedupinmyownchest.“I’mstillsorry.”
“Don’tbe.They’realreadygrowingback.”Anothershudderwentthroughhim.“Regenerating.”
Iloweredmyhandstomylap.“That’s…that’sreassuring.”Iswallowed,wincingatthedullacheinmythroat.“Ithink.”
HemadeasoundIthoughtmightbealaugh,butthenfellsilent,hisbreathingslowing.
Iglancedattheopeningtothestall.“Weshould—”
“Areyouhurt?”hebarked.
Igavealittlejump.“W-What?”
Thatdeep,skin-chillingsoundrumbledfromhimagain.“DidIhurtyou?WhenIgrabbedyou?”
“No,”Iwhispered.
Hisheadtiltedup,andafewstrandsofhairfelltotheside,revealingjusttheheightofonesharpcheekboneandoneeyethatnolongerlookedasrawandmangled.“Youlie.”
“N-No,Idon’t.”
“You’rerubbingyourthroat.ThesamethroatIwasjustsecondsawayfromcrushing.”
Myfingersstilled.Hisreminderwasunnecessary,butcouldheseenow?Idroppedmyhand.
Severalmoremomentspassed.Neitherofusmovedorspoke,andIneededtogetmoving.Sodidhe.Ipeekedatthedooragain.
“I’msorry.”
Ajoltranthroughmeasmygazeflewbacktohim.
“WhenIcameto,I…justreacted,”hecontinuedgruffly,hishandsfallingtohisthighs.“Iwasn’tinmyrightmind.Thought…youhad…somethingtodowiththis.”
Istaredathim,intuitionsilent,asitnormallywaswhenitcametoHyhborn,buthisapologysoundedgenuine.
Thecreakofrustyhingescamefromthefrontofthebarn,jerkingmyattentiontotheopening.Mystomachlurched.Thatwaslikelynotarat.Dreadsurgedthroughme.Noonecouldseemehere,withhim.
“Stayhere,”Iwhispered,pushingoffthefloorastheLordslowlyturnedatthewaist,totheopeningofthestall.
AsIhurriedpasthim,Ididn’tknowwhatIwasgoingtodoorsayifsomeonehadentered,butaspowerfulasanyHyhbornlordwas,hewasgravelywounded.Hewaslikelygoingtobeoflittlehelp.
Isteppedintothecenteraisle,myhandstrembling.Onebarndoorwashalfopen.IsawnothingasIcreptforward,liftingmyhood.Windcould’vepickedupoutside,blowingthedooropen.Thatwascompletelypossible.Inearedthetwofrontstalls,musclesbeginningtorelax.Ithadtobe—
Theshadowdartedoutoftheleftstall.Ilurchedback,butwasn’tquickenough.Ahandclampeddownonmyarm,givingitapainfuljerk.
“Whatareyoudoinginhere?”
ThegaspofpainturnedtooneofrecognitionasIreachedback,grabbinghisarm.Iknewthisvoice.ItwasWeber,oneofthebakeryworkersintown,whoalwaysflirtedwiththeparamourswhenhebroughtfreshpastriesthatClaudeloved—oneshesworenooneelsecouldmakeaswell.Hewasalargeman—burly,knucklesbruised,alwaysswollenfromtheboxingmatchesheldinoneofthegamblingdensbythewharf.
Hishandfistedinmyhair,yankingmyheadback.“Tellme.”
“You’rehurtingme,”Irasped.
“Girl,I’mgonnadoworsethanthatifyoudon’tanswerme.”Weberdraggedmefartherintothestall,anglingmeawayfromtheentranceashefoldedhisotherarmaroundmyneck.“Youshouldn’tbeinhere.”
ThesmellofsweatandcanesugarswampedmeasIblurtedoutthefirstthingthatcametomind.“I…Iwasoutforawalk—”
“Comeonnow.”SpittlesprayedmycheekasWeberbenthishead.“You’regoingtohaveto—Wait.Isthatbloodonyou?”
“Ifell,”Isaidinarush.“That’swhy—”
“Bullshit.Whatdidyoudoinhere?”hehissed,suddenlygoingstillbehindme.
“I—”
“Quiet.”Hisheadjerkedtotheside.
Ifeltwhatheheard.Thesuddenunnaturalstillnessofthebarn—oftheairthickeningandcharging.ThenIheardit.Thesoft,nearlysilentfootfall.Myentirebodywentrigid.Weberspunusaround.Theaislewasempty.Ofcourseitwas.TheLordcouldbarelystand,hadnearlybeendrainedofallhisblood,andwaspossiblystillmissingatleastoneeye.
“IsthatHyhbornbloodonyou?”Weberdemanded,takingastepback.“Didyoufreethatthing?”
BeforeIcouldanswer,heyankeddownmyhoodandcursed.“Forfuck’ssake,you’reoneoftheBaron’sbitches.”
“I’m—Oh,fuckit.”Givinguponlying,Islammedmyarmback.ThistimeIdidn’thithardfleshasIshovedmyelbowintoWeber’sstomachwithenoughforcethathisarmsloosenedwithacurseofpain.Spinningaround,Ithrustmykneeup,intohisgroin.
“Bitch,”Webergasped,doublingover.
Idartedaroundhim,butWeberlurchedforward.Hecaughtthebackofmycloak,throwingmetothefloorlikeIwasnothingmorethanasackoftrash.Ilandedonmykneesfortheumpteenthtimethatevening.
“Staythere,”hespat,reachingaroundtohisback.“I’lldealwithyouinamoment.”
Inthestreakofmoonlight,Isawtheflashofamilky-whiteblade—aluneadaggerheldinhishand.IroseasWeberstartedfortheaisle,snappingforwardandgrabbingthesleeveofthearmwieldingtheblade.
Thebakercockedhisarm,catchingmeintheface.PainburstalongmynoseasIstaggeredsideways,fallingintothewall.WoodgroanedundertheimpactasIliftedmyhandtomynose.Wetwarmthcoatedmyfingers.
Blood.
Myblood.
Tinyhairsroseallovermybodyasmygazelockedontohis.Mythoughtsquieted,andit…ithappened.Iconnectedwithhim,andmyintuitioncamealive,showingmethefuture—theexcruciatingcrackofboneinmyrightarm,thenmyleft.Thephantompaintraveledtomythroat.Ifeltitall.
Hisdeath.
AndI…Ismiled.
“Stupidbitch,youstaythereandstayquiet.You’vealreadygotasteeppricetopay.Don’tmakeit—”Hiswordsendedinachokedgasp.
Andmybreathstalledinmychest.
TheHyhbornlordstoodthere,moonlightslicingoverhisbowedheadandbloodiedchest.Helookedlikeanavengingspiritconjuredfromthedepthsofnightmaresasheheldthebakerbythethroatwithonehandandthewristwithanother.
“Attemptingtocapture…mewasabadchoiceto…make.”Hisvoicewassosoftyetsocold,itsentachillofdreaddownmyspine.“Butstrikingher?”
Myblood-tingedlipspartedastheLordliftedthemortaloffthefloor,unperturbedasWeberbeatatthearmholdinghimup.
“Thatwasafatalmistake,”theHyhbornsnarled.
Webersputtered,eyesbulging.
TheHyhborn’sheadtilted,sendingseveralstrandsofhairslidingback.Themoonlightcutoverhisprofile,glancingoverhismouth.Hissmilewasasbloodyasminehadbeen.HetwistedWeber’sarmsharply.
Thecrackofthebaker’sbonewaslikethunder.Thedaggerlandedwithathud.Hiswheezywhimpergavewaytoasmothered,keeningwail.
“I…rememberyou.”TheLord’sheadstraightened.“Youweretheone…whojumpedmeoutsidethetavern.”Hereachedacross,graspingWeber’sotherarm.“You’retheone…whoputaspike…inmychest.”
Ipressedbackagainstthewallatthesnapofthesecondbone,myhandfallingfrommybloodiednose.
“Andyoulaughedwhiledoingit.”TheLordsuddenlyjerkedhishandback—
IturnedawaybutIstillheardthesickeningcrunch—stillsawtheglossyblue-whiteofcartilageofWeber’swindpipe.ItriednottoseeeventhoughIalreadyhad,secondsago.
“Andthatwillnotbeasoundyoumakeagain.”TheLordtossedtheclumpofruinedtissueandfleshaside.Hedroppedthebaker.
Bileclimbingupmythroat,IturnedandlookedtowhereWeberlay,atwitching,spasmingheapofman.I’dseenmyfairshareofdeath.Inthestreetsandintheorphanagesasakid,evenlongbeforemyHyhbornlordhadcometoUnionCity.I’dseendeathsomanytimes,inmymindandbeforeme—thosewhopassedduetoailmentsthathadfesteredandgrowninsidethem,andthosewhopassedduetotheevilsthathadgrowninsideofothers.I’dseensomuchdeaththatIwouldthinkI’dhavegrownusedtoitbynow,andmaybeinalittlewayIhad,becauseIwasn’tscreamingorshaking.Butitwasstillashock.Aloss,evenifWeberhaditcoming,butI…
Ihadneversmiledatitbefore.
“Yourintervention…wasunnecessary,”theLordsaid,drawingmygazetohim.Kneeling,hewipedthegorefromhishandonWeber’sshirt.Heturnedhisheadtowardme,andIthoughtIcouldseethebeginningofanactualeyeintherightsocket.“Youshould’ve…stayedback.”
Ittookmeamomenttofindwords.“Youwereinjured.You’restillinjured.”Andhewas.Hischestwasmovinginshort,shallowpants.Eveninthemoonlight,Icouldseethathisskinhadlostalotofitscolor.Theviolencehadcosthim.
“Andyouare…amortalbarelyabletodefendyourself…oranother.”Herose,hismovementsshaky.“Butyou’rebrave—braverthan…manystrongerthanyou.”
Alaughrattledoutofme.“I’mnotbrave.”
“Thenwhat…doyoucallyouractionstonight?”
“Foolish.”
“Well,thereissuchathingasfoolishbravery,”hesaid,sighingashemovedtowardme.“He…struckyou.”
Iinchedtotheside,awayfromhim.“I’mfine.”
TheHyhbornlordhalted.
“Mynoseisn’tevenbleedinganymore,”Irambled.“Itwasbarelyahit.”
Amomentofsilencepassed.“I’mnotgoingtohurtyou.”Hisshoulderstensed.“I…Iwon’thurtyouagain.”
Atleasthehadtheself-awarenesstorealizethathehad,evenifhisactionshadbeenaccidental.
“Youknew…theman?”Hedraggedahanduphisface,throughhishair.
“Yes.Heworkedatthebakery.”
“Hewas…waitingaroundoutsidewhenIleftthetavern.Hewaswith…twoothers.Theone…atthetavern…andanotherwhowastheredrinking.”
Iopenedmymouth,thenclosedit.HewasspeakingofPorterandlikelyMickie
“They’vedonethisbefore,”hecontinued,voicebecominghoarse.
Ishuddered.ForthemtoknowwhatFool’sParsleywoulddotoaHyhbornandtohavetheluneablades,they’dprobablydonethismorethanonce.
Hethenlookeddownathimself,pressinghisfingerjustbelowthewoundonhischest.
“Doesithurt?”Iblurtedoutyetanotherincrediblypointlessquestion.
Hisheadlifted,andnowallIsawwasthestraightlineofhisnose.“Itfeelslikea…holewascarved…throughmychestcavity.”
Bilerose.“I’msorry.”
TheLordwentstillagain.“Youdothatalot?Apologizing…forsomethingyou’vehadnothingtodowith.”
“I’mempathizing,”Itoldhim.“Youdidn’tdoanythingtodeservethat,right?Youwerejustatthetavern,for…forwhateverreason.Thatisall.Noonedeserveswhatwasdonetoyou.”
“IncludingaHyhborn?”
“Yes.”
Hemadeanoisethatsoundedlikeadrylaugh.
Itookasmallbreath.“Ineedtoleave.Sodoyou.Theothersinvolvedinthiswillcomeback.”
“Andtheywilldietoo.”Heturned,swaying.
Myheartlurchedwithalarm.“Mylord?”
“Ineed…yourhelp.Again.”Araggedbreathlefthim.“Ineedtocleanup.Thelunea—itcontaminatesthebody.It’sinmybloodandsweat,andtheFool’sParsley…ismakingithardto…flushitout.Ineedtobathe.Ineedwater.Ifnot,Iwon’tbeabletohealcompletely.I’llpassoutagain.”
Ilookedaround.Therewasnowaterhere,surelynotenoughtobathehimorforhimtoactuallyingest.
TensionpouredintomymusclesasIstaredathim.ThelogicalpartofmybrainwasdemandingItellhimthatIcouldbeofnomorehelp,thatIwishedhimwell,andthengetasfarawayasIcould.Buttheotherpart,theonethatIwasbornwithandthatalways,alwayswonoveranythingmymindwastellingme,demandedIdotheexactoppositeofwhatwassmartandreasonable.
Butitwasmorethanmyintuition.Itwasalsobecauseitwashim.MyHyhbornlord—no,hewasn’tmine.Ineededtostopwiththat.
IlookedtothedoorandthentoWeber,handsclosingatmysides.“Canyouwalk?”
Hedidn’tanswerforalongmoment.“Yes.”
“Good,”Iwhispered,takingasteptowardhim.Ispottedthemilky-whitebladeinthemoonlight.Bending,Ipickeditupandglancedbeyondhim,tothedarkenedaisle.“Stayhere.Forrealthistime.”
TheLorddidn’tanswerasIinchedpasthimandhurriedbacktothestallhe’dbeenheldin.Thegaslampwasstillon.Iwalkedforward,handtighteningaroundtheluneabladeasIkickedoverthebucketsofblood.CHAPTER5
Iwasconcerned.
TheHyhbornlordwasstrong,obviously,buthe’dbeenabletotakeonlyafewstepsoutsideofthestallbeforehisbreathingbecamelabored.Hestumbled.Ishotforward,foldinganarmaroundhiswaist,andheldontohimasbestasIcould.Myownstrengthwasquicklycrackingunderhisweight,butthewoundonhischestwasbleedingagainandnolongerjustseeping.Italsolookedlarger.Ididn’tthinkhisotherinjuriesfaredanybetter.
“Justalittlefurther,”Iassuredhim,hopingthatFinnwasrightandJacwouldbeoccupiedtilldawn,becauseifnot…
Itwouldbebad.
Henodded,thehairnowhanginginstringyclumpsaroundhisface.ThatwastheonlyresponseIgotaswemadeitoutofthebarn.Aswecrossedtheunevenground,IlookedtothewoodsandspottedIris’sshadowyformgrazing.
Grittingmyteeth,Iforgedforward,fingersslippingoverhisnow-slickwaist.Itfeltlikeaneternitybythetimewereachedthebackdooroftheblacksmith’shome.TheLordleanedagainstthecementsidingtypicalofbuildingsofthisage,headhanginglimplyonhisshoulders.“Wholives…here?Theblacksmith?”
“Yes.Heshouldn’tbebackforawhile,”Iassuredhim.“Thisisn’tatraporanything.”
“Iwould…hopenot,”hesaid,tippinghisheadagainstthewall,exposinghisthroattothemoonlight.“You’vegoneto…alotofunnecessary…troubleifso.”
Bitingtheinsideofmylip,Iturnedthehandle.Ortriedto.Myshouldersslumped.“It’slocked.”
“That’s…aninconvenience.”Heangledhisbodytowardmine.Liftingafist,hepunchedthedoor,justabovethehandle.Woodcrackedandsplintered,explodingashisfistwentstraightthrough.
Myjawdropped.
Hereachedintotheraggedholeandturnedthelock.“Thereyou…go.Nolongerlocked.”
Iblinkedasmyfingersflutteredtomythroat.Thatsamehandhe’djustputthroughathickwoodendoorhadbeenaroundmythroat.
“IfIweren’t…weakened,”hesaid,eyeingmefrombehindacurtainofhair,“Iwould’vekilledyouthemomentIhad…yourthroatinmyhand.You’relucky.”
Myhandloweredasmyheartskipped.Iwasn’tfeelingveryluckyatthemoment.Instead,IwasfeelinglikeI’dreallygottenmyselfinovermyheadthistime.
TheLordpushedopenthedoor,allbutstumblingasideatthefaintstenchofsouraleanddecayingfood.Igavethespaceaquicklook,makingoutasmalltableandunwashedpotsandpansstackedinasink.Mygazeliftedtothearchwayandnarrowhallthatappearedtoleadtowardthefront,whichJaclikelyusedtomeetwithclients.ManyofthebuildingsinthisareaofArchwoodwereseveralhundredyearsold,havingsurvivedtheGreatWar.So,theywerelarger,andhadalotofchambersandwerebuiltentirelydifferentlyfromthewaytheyweretoday.Iturned,spyinganotherdoorontheothersideofthetable.
Figuringthatledtobedchambersandhopefullyabathingspace,IhelpedtheLordaroundthewoodentable.
“You…youweren’tatthetavern,”herasped.
“Howdoyouknow?”
“Iwould’veseen…you.”
Iarchedabrow.“IwasoutforawalkwhenIoverheardwhathadhappened.”
“Where?”
Ididn’tanswerasInudgedthedooropenandledhimdownthenarrowhall.
“You’ve…beensomewherenear…agarden,”hesaid.
Myheadwhippedtowardhim.“Howdoyouknowthat?”
“Ismell…theearthonyou,”hesaid,andIfrowned,havingnoideaifthatmeantIsmelledbadornot.“Hintsof…ofcatmintand…”
Surpriseflickeredthroughme.Ihadbeenmessingaroundwiththecatmintearlierthatday.Istaredathim.“Howdoyousmellthat?”
“Justcan,”hemumbledasheslippedfromme,swaying.Ireachedforhim,buthewavedmeoff.“I’mokay.”
Iwasn’tsosureaboutthatasIglancedahead.Anotherdoor,leftajar,loomed.
Hisbreathwasraggedasheusedthewallassupport.“Thecatmint?”
“Iwastrimmingsomeearliertoday.”
Hemadeasoundsortoflikeahum.“I…likethesmell…ofthem.”
“AsdoI.”Blowingoutabreath,Ipushedthedooropen.Moonlightstreamedinfromthewindow,castingsilverylightoverabedandasurprisinglytidychamberthatsmelledoffreshlaundry.
TheLordshuffledintothechamber.Closingthedoorbehindhim,Ithrewthetinyhook-and-eyelock,asifthatwouldstoparabbitfromgettingin,letaloneanotherperson.
Hesatdownheavilyontheedgeofthebed.Ihalted,handpressingagainstmychestashegraspedhisknees,bentslightlyatthewaist.Istartedtoaskifhewasokay,butstoppedmyself.Hewasn’t.Atall.Seeinganyonelikethiscausedmystomachtojumpallovertheplace.
Pivotingawayfromhim,Ifoundalampnearthebedandturnediton.ThebutterylightlitthespaceasIcrossedthechamber,pushedopenthenextdoor,andsteppedinside.ReliefhitmewhenIsawthetypeofshowerstallfoundintheoldestbuildings.Itwasn’tverylarge,butitwoulddo.“Youcangetcleanedupinhere.”
“I’mgoingtoneedaminute,”heslurred.“Thechamberseemstobemoving.”
Returningtothebedchamber,Ilookedaround,andspiedacupboard.Hurryingtoit,Ipulledtheluneadaggerfromthepocketofmycloak,halfsurprisedIhadn’tstabbedmyselfwithit.IplaceditonthecupboardasIspottedaclosedjarofwhatappearedtobewateronasmalltableoppositethebed.Iliftedittomynose,takingasniff,andwhenIsmellednothing,Ipouredaglassandtookadrink.“Willthishelp?It’sjustwater,butwarm.”
“Itshould.”
Ihandedhimtheglass,steppingback.Hetookjustasmallsipatfirstandthendownedtheentireglass.
“More?”
“IthinkI…shouldletthat…settlefirst.”
Takingtheglassfromhim,Iplaceditonthetable.“Istheroomstillmoving?”
“Unfortunately.”Hishandsfelltotheedgeofthebed.“Legsdon’tfeelattachedatthemomentandthelight—myeyes…aren’tquitereadyforit.”
Icursed,nothavingthoughtofthat.“Sorry,”Imumbled,quicklyturningthelampoff.
TheLordhadgonequietasIfacedhim.TrepidationroseasIinchedclosertohim—oneofthemostpowerfulbeingsinalltherealm,andhewas…hewasshaking.Hislegs.Arms.“Isitthehemlockorthe…thebloodloss?”
“Thosethings…andthelunea.Thataloneweakensus—sickensus,”heexplained.“Whenany…luneabladeisleftinusoritswoundgoesuntreated,itturnsintoatoxin,breakingdownourtissues….”Hislargeshoulderscurledinward.“Anotherofmykindwouldneedfarmorethanwaterandtimetoheal.”
Meaningthatifheweren’talord,theinjurieswould’velikelyendedhislife.Ifelttheneedtoapologizeagainbutmanagedtostopmyself.
Ineededtogethimcleanedupandsafelyoutofherebeforeotherscametocheckonhim…orWeber.“Whatwouldtheyneed?”Iasked,justincasethewaterwasn’tenough,asIkneltbeforehim.“Toheal?”
“I…Iwouldneedtofeed.”
“Um.”Iglancedatthedoor.“Icanprobablyfindyousomethingtoeat.”
“I’mnottalking…aboutfood.”
MybrowsliftedasIfumbledinthedarkness,runningmyhandsoverhisbootuntilIfoundthetop.FortheshortperiodoftimethingshadbeenintimatebetweenClaudeandme,I’dgainedquiteabitofexperienceundressingahalf-consciousman,butIstillfeltalittleoutofmyelementasIgraspedtheshaftofthebootandyankeditoff.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Asuddensoftglowsparkedtolife,drawingmygazeupasImovedontohisotherboot.Ilookeduptoseethathe’dpickedupacandlefromthenightstandandhadlitit…withhistouch.Mylipspartedwithasoftinhaleatthereminderofexactlywhathewas.“How…didyoudothat?”
“Magic.”
Mybrowsinchedup.I’dneveractuallyseenaHyhbornusetheelements.“Really?”
“No.”
Istaredathimasecond,thenshookmyhead.Unnerved,Igrabbedaholdofhisotherboot.“Doesthecandlelighthurtyoureyes?”
“No,”heanswered.
Iwasn’tsureifIbelievedhimasIdroppedhisboot.Iglancedatthebathingchamber,thentookthecandlefromhim.“I’llgettheshowerreadyforyou.”Irose.“ButIcan’tpromiseitwillbewarm.”
“It’ll…befine.”
Nibblingonmylip,Ireenteredthebathingchamber,placingthecandleonashelf.Isparedaglanceatmyreflectionandwinced.Theskinhadsplitalongthebridgeofmynoseandtherewasalreadyapuffinessbeneathmyeyes.Mynosedidn’tappearbroken,butIhadnoideahowIwasgoingtoexplainthistoGrady
Goingtotheshower,Iquicklycrankedtheknobsonthewall.Steadystreamsofwaterpoundedofftheporcelainfloorofthestall.Ithrustmyhandbeneaththestream.Bloodranbetweenmyfingers,splatteringoffthefloorasItestedthetemperature.Itwasn’texactlyhot,butitwasn’tfreezing.Iwashedthebloodfrommyotherhand,thenturned.
TheLordleanedagainstthedoorframe.Howhemovedsoquietlywhileinjuredandso…well,solarge,wasbeyondme.
“Shouldyoubestanding?”Iasked.
“Thechamberstoppedmoving.”
“Thatsoundslikegood…”Itrailedoffasheswayedawayfromthedoorframe.
Hisheadhungweaklyashereachedforhispants.Realizinghewasabouttoundress,Istartedtoturnaway.Hisfingersfumbled,though,nearlyuselessashestumbled.“Fuck.”
Isnappedforward,catchingtheHyhborn.Hisweightwasimmense,thebarefleshofhischesthotasIkeptmyarmsaroundhim.“Youokay?”
Hesteadiedalittle.“Yeah.”
Istartedtoletgo,buthebegantowobble.“Youarenotokay.”
“Yeah,”herepeated,reachingaroundmetoplantahandontherimofthesinkbasin.
Throatdry,Ilookedovermyshoulderattherunningwater,mindracing.IthenglanceddownatthelengthofcloakIworeandfinallyathispants.Isighed.“Canyouholdontothesinkforamoment?”
Headbent,henodded.
Slidingmyarmsaway,Iwaitedtomakesurehewasn’tgoingtofall.Whenhedidn’t,Itoedoffmybootsandkickedthembackintothebedchamber.Iunhookedtheclaspsbeneathmyneck.
“Whatareyoudoing?”herasped,voicehoarse.
“Youneedtogetcleanedup,right?”Iletthecloakfalltothefloor.“Anditdoesn’tlooklikeyou’regoingtobeabletodothatonyourown.”
“AndhereIthought…”Heshuddered,musclesalonghisarmsspasming.“Ithoughtyouwereplanningtotakeadvantageofme.”
Ifroze.“Areyouserious?”
“No.”Heseemedtoshudder.“Theroomismovingagain,na’laa.”
Damnit.Iwentstill,thinkingthatitmighthelpifIdidn’tmove.Wait.Whatdidhecallme?“‘Na’laa’?”
“It’sEnochian.”Onearmdroppedtorestonhisbentknee.“Aphrase…inourlanguage.”
IknewHyhbornhadtheirownlanguage,butI’dneverhearditspokenbefore.“Whatdoesitmean?”
“It…hasmanymeanings.Oneofthemis…usedtodescribe…someonewhoisbrave.”
Mycheekswarmedforsomereason.
“There…mustbe…alotofconjureractivityinyourcity,”hesaidafteramoment.
ThinkingofallthetimesinthepastI’dbeenaccusedofbeingsuchaperson,Iglancedathim.“Ihonestlydon’tknowifthereis,”Ianswered.“I’mnotevensureIbelieveanyofwhatissaidtobedonewithbonemagicispossible.”
“Oh,it’sreal.”Hisarmstrembledasheheldhimselfthere.“Ingestingourbloodwouldkillamortal,butsmooth…itoverawound?Ascar?Itwillbehealed.Sprinkleitonbarrenlandandcropswillflourish.Buryahand…infreshlyplowedsoil,andcropswillflourishtheretoo,onesinsusceptible…todroughtordisease.”Hischindroppedevenfarther.“Ourteethdroppedintowatercancreatecoin.”
“Really?”DoubtcreptintomytoneasIrealizedhisbloodhadseepedthroughmycloakandstainedthenightgown.
“Really,”heconfirmed.“Butthat’snotall.”
“Ofcoursenot,”Imurmured.
“Keepinganeyeofours…nearwillwarnthewearerofanyone…whoapproaches,”hecontinued,andIdidn’tevenwanttoknowhowoneworeaneye.Icouldgomyentirelifenotknowingthat.“Ourtongueswillforcethetruth…fromanyonewhospeaks,andweavingstrandsofourhair…amongyours?Itwillensureoneremains…ingoodhealthaslongasthehairstaysinplace.Ourbones…canrestoreone’shealth.”
“Oh,”Iwhispered,somewhattransfixed.
“Buryingourfingersandtoes…willbringwaterfromdeepwithintheland,”hewenton.“Stripsofour…ofourskinhungaboveadoorwillwardoffthenix.”
“That’sdisgusting.”Achillsweptthroughme,though,atthementionofthecreature.ThenixwererelatedtotheHyhborninsomefashionandwerefoundinthewoodswhereusuallyonlylonggamehuntersentered,especiallyintheWychwoods—thevastsacredforestrumoredtohavetreesthatbled.ThewoodsskirtedtheterritoriesoftheLowlandsandtheMidlandsandtraveledallthewaytotheHighlands.Thecreaturesfoundwithinthemdidn’tlookremotelymortalandweremorefrighteningthanbirdeaters—ridiculouslylargeandhorrifyingspiderswithclaws.I’dneverseenone,eitherabirdeateroranix.
“Whatdo…theylooklike?Thenix?”Iasked.
“Haveyou…seenaRae?”
Ishuddered,thinkingoftheHyhbornridersthatweremorebonethanflesh.“Once.”
“Imaginethat…butthinner,faster,andwithsharpteethandclaws,”hetoldme.“Andtheycangetinyourhead,makeyouthinkyou’reseeingandexperiencing…whatisnotthere.”
Istiffened,breathcatching.
“Soperhaps…knowingwhattheylooklikenolongermakeshangingourskinatthedoorstoodisgusting,”heremarked.“Thenthere…areourcocks.”
“I’msorry,”Ichoked.“What?”
“Ourcocks,na’laa,”herepeated.“Beinginpossession…ofonewillensurethattheowner…hasavery…fruitfulunion.”
Iopenedmymouth,butIwasatanutterlossforwordsforseveralseconds.“Thereisapartofme—ahugepartofme—thatregretshavingthisconversation.”
“Thereismore,”hesaid,andIthoughthistonehadlightened.Almostteasing.“Ihaven’t…evengottentowhatourmuscles—”
“Great,”Imuttered.“Isthechamberstillmoving?”
“No.”
Thankthegods.Ireachedforthestrapsonmynightgown.
“Ourcome,”hesaid,andIhalted.“It’sknowntobea…powerfulaphrodisiac.Somemixitwithherbstorub…onthemselves.Othersdrink—”
“Igetit,”Icuthimoff,havingheardofpotionsthatpromisedtoincreasethepleasureofthosewhousedthem.“Justtomakeitclear,I’mnotafteryourbloodor…”
“Ormycome?”hefinished.
“Definitelynotthat,”Isnapped.
“Whatashame.”
Shakingmyhead,Ishimmiedoutofmynightgown.IrefusedtothinkaboutwhatIwasdoingasmybareskinpimpledinthedampheat.“I’mundressed,bytheway.”
“Thatsoundedoddly…likeawarning,”hemurmured.“Asifknowingyou’renakedwouldsomehowprevent…mefromlooking.”
“It’snotawarning.It’sjusttoletyouknowsoyoucanbepoliteandnotlook.”
“Iknowwe…don’tknow…oneanother,butyou…shouldknow,I’mnotknown…tobepolite.”
“Youcantry.”Ikneltbesidehim,andhesitated,therealityofwhatIwasdoingstrikingme.
IwasundressingaHyhborn—aHyhbornlord.
Naomiwouldbesojealous.
Bitingbackalaugh,Ireachedfortheflaponhispantsandbegantounhookthebuttons.ThebackofmyhandsbrushedalongsomethingIalsorefusedtothinkof,causinghimtosuckinthedeepestbreathI’dheardhimtakethatevening.“Holdstill.”
“Iamholdingstill,but…you’reonyourknees,yourfingersarenearmydick,andyou’recurrentlygloriouslynude,so…”
Undoingthefinalbutton,Irolledmyeyes.“Youcan’tevenstandonyourowntwofeetandyou’recurrentlyregrowingeyeballs.Thelastthingyouneedtobethinkingaboutismeonmyknees,yourdick,ormynudity.”
“I’veregrownmyeyes,na’laa.”
Mychinjerkedup.Themessofhairshieldedhisface,buthisheadwasturnedinmydirection.Mygazedroppedtohishands—tohislongfingerspressingintotherimofthesink.
“That’show…Iknowyou’regloriouslynude,”hecontinued.
Musclescurledlowinmystomach,stealingthebreathItook.
Goodgods,thatwastheutterlastthingIneededtobefeelingnow.
Iquicklyfinishedwiththelastbutton,maybealittletooroughlybecausehislowgroanburnedthetipsofmyears.Ireachedtopullhispantsdown—
“Igotthis,”hemuttered.
Iwasn’tsureheactuallydid,sowhenIrose,Istoodbehindhim.Ikeptmygazetrainedonhisbackasheunsteadilyshuckedoffhispants,andIsteppedasideoncehefinishedandpushedoffthesink.Hetookastepandbegantoswayagain.Icaughthim,foldinganarmaroundhiswaist.Myhandflattenedagainsthisstomach,andItensed.
Therewerenovoices.
Noimages.
Woulditbelikewithacaelestia,whereIwouldhaveafewblissfulminutesofbeingabletotouchthem?ThoughIstillhadtoconcentratetoavoidslippingintotheirmindseveninthosebriefminutes.
“Iwaswrong.”TheLordleanedintome,hishippressingintomystomach.“Idon’thaveit.”
Ihelpedhimtowardthestall,unabletoignorethefeelofhim.Hisskinwasincrediblywarm.
“There’sasmallledgetostepover,”Iwarnedhim.
Henodded,liftinghisfootovertheledgeasIfollowed,keepingmyarmaroundhim.
Andkeepingmyeyestrainedup,onthewhitetileofthestall.
Thefallofwaterwasabitofashockaswesteppedunderthestream,hisbodytakingthebruntofit.Iheldon,closingmyhandintoafistasheturnedandbracedahandagainstthetile,facingthestream.Ilookedupandfoundhisheadtippedback,exposinghisfaceandchesttotheshower.
Hisgroanwas…itwasdownrightsinful-soundingaswaterstreamedoverhisfaceandthroughhishair.Heatreturned,creepingupmythroatasmystarefollowedthewatercoursingdownthecordedmusclesofhisback,cuttingtrailsinthedriedbloodthereandthe,well,ratherfirmcurveofhisass.
Squeezingmyeyesshut,Iorderedmyselftogetagrip.Hyhbornwerenicetolookupon.Ialreadyknewthat.Everyonedid.Itdidn’tmatterthatitwasaniceass.Anasswasanass.Therewasnothingspectacularaboutanyass,includinghis.
Openingmyeyes,Iwantedtosmackmyselfasthewaterswirlingaroundthedrainbecametintedred.“Howareyoufeeling?”
“Better.”
Mygazeliftedtothehandonthetile.Hisarmstilltrembled.Blueandpurpleblotchesmarredhisflesh.Angerslitheredthroughme.“Theyreallydidanumberonyou.”
“TheFool’sParsleyhad…kickedinjustasIwalkedoutofthetavern.Ithinktheyexpectedittohaveagreatereffectmore…quickly.”
HestiffenedasIreachedaroundtograbthesoapIspotted.Theeffortbroughtmybarechestagainsthisback.Thecontactwasbrief,butlongenoughtosendashiverofawarenessthroughme.Igrabbedthebarandleanedback.
“Thatone…jumpedme.”
“Weber?”
Henodded.“Thentheothertwojoinedin.Thereweretwoothers…Ididn’trecognize.”
FiguringhemightbespeakingofFinnandMickie,Islowlydrewmyarmfromhim.Whenheremainedupright,Irubbedthesoapbetweenmyhands.“Whenyouwerejumped—youfoughtback?”
“Killedoneofthem…beforeIpassedout.”
MybreathcaughtasIhalted,sudsrunningdownmyarm.Okay.Maybehewasn’tspeakingofFinnandMickie.HowmanypeopleinArchwoodwereinvolvedinthis?TheBaronneededtobewarned.Draggingmylipbetweenmyteeth,Iplacedmyhandonhisback.Hismusclesbunchedundermypalm,buthedidn’tpullaway.Idrewmyhandoverhisback,washingawaythebloodthere.
“Thoseyouoverheardspeakingearliertonight?”heasked.“Didyou…hearthemsayanythingelse?”
IthoughtoverwhatI’dheard.“Actually,Idid.TheyspokeofsomeonetheycalledMuriel.”
TheLordstiffened.
“Doyouknowwhothatis?”
“Ido,”hesaid,anddidn’telaboratefurther.
Mynosestungalittleasthestreamofwaterreachedme.“Hasthishappenedtoyoubefore?”
Arough,drylaughrattledfromhim.“No.ButIshould’vebeenmorecareful.NotlikeI’munawareofhemlockanditseffectonmykind.Iwasjust…”
Ishifted,runningmysoapyhanddowntohishipandbackup,mindfulofthebruisesasIfocusedonthefeelandtextureofhisskin.Itremindedmeof…ofmarbleorgranite.“What?”
“Iwasjustcareless,”herevealedafterIliftedmyhand.
“Well,ithappenstothebestofus,right?”Isoapedupmyhandagainandmovedtotheothersideofhisback.
Hisheadtippedbackagain,causingtheedgesofhishairtoteasemyfingersasIdrewmyhandlightlyoverhisshoulder.Thereseemedtobea…afaintglowinhisskin,butIwasn’tsureifthatwaswhatIwasseeing.“Right.”
Inthesilencethatfellbetweenus,Ifoundmyselfgettingalittlelostinjusttouchingsomeone—touchinghim.Iheardandfeltnothing.Noviolentfuturesorwhispersofknowledge—detailedthingsimpossibleformetoknow.Theirnames.Ages.Iftheyweremarriedornot.Howtheylived.Theirinnermostsecretsanddesires,whichwerewhatClaudefoundmostvaluable.
Therewerejustmyownthoughts.EvenwithClaude,Iwould’vehadtobecareful,andbynowIwould’vestartedtohearhisthoughts.TheonlytimeIexperiencedthisnothingnesswaswhenIdrankenoughtodullmysenses,butdoingsoalsodulledeverythingelse,includingmymemories.WhenItouchedsomeone,therewasnoneedtopicturethatmentalstring,butwiththislord,therewasnothing
Ashudderrolledthroughme.MaybeIwasjusttoodistracted—toooverwhelmedforevenmyintuitiontokickin.Ididn’tknow,andatthatmoment,Ididn’tcare.Closingmyeyes,Iletmyself…Iletmyselfenjoythis.Thecontact.Thefeelofanother’sskinbeneathmypalms.Thewaymusclestensedandmovedunderthem.Icoulddothisforever.
Butwedidn’thaveforever.
“What…whatwereyouevendoingattheTwinBarrels?”Iasked,clearingmythroat.“It’snotaplacefrequentedbytheHyhbornofPrimvera.”
“I’mnot…fromPrimvera,”hesaid,confirmingwhatMickiebelieved.“Iwasmeetingsomeone.Theysuggestedtheplace.”
Iglancedupatthebackofhishead.“Didyoumeetwiththem?”
“No.”Hetippedhisheadtotheotherside.“AndIdon’tthinktheywillbelookingforme.”
Ididn’tneedmyintuitiontofigurethatwhomeverhewastomeettheremight’vesethimup.Could’veevenbeenthisMuriel.“Willanyonebelookingforyou?Likeafriend?”
Henodded.“Eventually.”
Thatwasarelief.
Untilheturnedinthesmallstall,andIwassuddenlyateyelevelwiththewoundinhischest.
MylipspartedasIsawthatthewoundhadshrunkagain,thistimetoaboutthesizeofasmallgoldencoin.Mostofthebloodhadwashedaway,exceptforafewpatcheshereandthere,buttherewasthis…Isquinted.Therewerethesetinywhitishdotsscatteredabouthischestandhisstomach—
Ididn’tletmyselflookfartherasheshiftedslightly.Moreofthelukewarmwaterreachedme.“Whatis…comingoutofyourskin?Isitthehemlock?”
“Mostofthatisgonenow,”hesaid.“You’reseeingtheaftereffectsofwhataluneabladedoes.Oncethebladehitsourflesh,ittooactsasapoison.Iteatsaway,reachingourblood,andthen…burnsusfromtheinside,muchlikeafeverwouldamortal.Mybodyispushingitout.”
“Oh,”Iwhispered,somewhatfascinatedanddisturbedbyit.Byallofthis.Everythingfelttoosurreal.TheconversationIoverheardandthemadflightintothecity.Discoveringthatitwashimmyintuitionhadguidedmeto.Beingintheshowerwithhim….Hisbody.
I’dseenalotofnakedmeninvariousdifferentsituations.SomelikeGrady,whoseframewashonedfromtrainingandhandlingasword,andotherswhoweresofterthanmyself,andsomeevenlikeClaude,whowasnaturallyslender.Butthislordwas…hewasdifferent.
Slowly,Iliftedmygazetohis.Hiseyes…Theyweredefinitelyregenerated,andexactlyhowIrememberedthem.Aburstofswirlingblue,green,andbrown.Theyweresostrangeandsobeautiful.Iglancedoverhisfeatures.Thebruisinghadnearlyallfadedfromhisface.Thatwasn’ttheonlythingnowabsent.
“Themarkingsonyourface,”Isaid,browsfurrowing.“They’regone.”
Hisheadtiltedslightly.“Markings?I’mnotsureofwhatyouspeak.”
“You…youhadthesemarksonyourface,alongyourjawandtemple.Lookedlikeatattoo,”Itoldhim.“Butitappearedtocomefromwithinyourskin.”
Thecolorsofhisirisesslowed,thenstilled.“Ibelieveyou’vemistakenwhatyousaw,”hesaid,chindipping.“Itmust’vebeenbloodordirt.”
“Maybe.”Tinygoosebumpsappearedonmyflesh,respondingtothesuddencoolnessofthebathingchamber.Itookanervousstepback.“Ithink—”
“Willyoutouchme?”heasked.
ThebreathItookwentnowhereasmygazeshotbacktohis.“What?”
“Tocontinuetobatheme,”heclarified,thicklasheslowered.“Ifindmyselfthoroughlyenjoyingthis.”Therewasapause.“AndIbelieveyoualsoenjoyit.”
Iwasthoroughlyenjoyingthis—touchinghim.IswallowedasIstoodthere.Strandsofwethairhadslippedfree,clingingtomycheeksasmygriponthesoaptightened.Aidinghimdidn’tseemallthatnecessaryatthispoint.Hisvoicewasstronger.Basedontheriseandfallofhischestandhowhewastakingfewerbreaksbetweenhiswords,hisbreathingwasnolongerlabored.Hecouldlikelyfinishcleaninghimself,especiallyifhewascapableofthoroughlyenjoyingthis.
ButI…Iwas…reckless,Iwasmorethanalittlefoolish,andIhadanextremelylonghistoryofmakingbadlifechoicesdespiteknowingbetter.
AndI…Icouldtouchhim.
Stomachdipping,Iplacedasoapyhandonhischest.Heseemedtoinhaledeeply,ormaybeitwasme.Iwasn’tsureasIdrewmypalmoverhisskin,watchingthewhitebeadsdisappearinthesuds.Istayedclearofthewoundinhischestandtheonesonhisarmseventhoughtheylookedfarbetter,almostcompletelyclosed.Latheringthesoaponcemore,Iglidedmypalmoverhisstomach.
Holdingmylipbetweenmyteeth,Ibroughtmyhandnearhisnavel.Mypulsewastickingrapidly,andmyskinfelthotdespitethecoolingofthewaterandtheair.Iclosedmyeyesasmyhandslippedoverhiship,alongtheinsideandoverthetautmusclethere.Ididn’tgofarther.Iwantedto,butthatseemedhighlyinappropriate,allthingsconsidered.
Themusclesbeneathmyfingerstensed,andIopenedmyeyestoseewhatmyhardworkhadaccomplished.Thebloodwasgone,andInolongersawthosetinyspecksappearingwherethesudshadtrailedoff.Otherthanthewound,helookedmuchbetter.Hisskintonehadevendeepened,moretanthansandynow,andhisbody
Therewasstillnotasinglestrandofbodyhairtobeseen.Itwasasifhe’dbeencarvedfrommarble,everylineandmuscleperfectlydefined.Mygazelowered,drawnirresistiblytothe…thethick,hardlengthofhim.
Mygods,I…I’dneverreallythoughtaman’scockwasallthatattractivetolookupon,buthiswasjustliketherestofhim.Stunning.Breathtaking.Brutallybeautiful.
“Na’laa?”
Arushofdampheatfloodedmycore.“Yes?”
“You’restaringatme.”
Mychestrosesharply.Isowas.Therewasnodenyingit.
“It’sokay.”Hisbreathdancedoverthetopofmyhead,andmyownsnagged.Washecloser?Hewas.“I’mstaringatyou.”
Hespokenolies.Icouldfeelhiseyesonme.Ihadfelthisgazemovingovermybrow,downmynose,andovermylipsasminehadtraveledoverhischest.Theintensityofhisstarewaslikeacaress,glidinglower.Thetipsofmybreaststingledashisperusalcontinued,justasminehad,coastingoverthecurveofmywaist,myhipsandthighs,andbetweenthem,whereIached—whereIwanted…Iwantedhimtotouch.
“Youshouldn’tbe,”Iwhispered.“You’reinjured.”
“So?”
“So?”Irepeated.Therewasadipping,whirlingmotioninmystomach.“Idon’tknowwhatyou’rethinkingabout—”
“Ithinkyou’requiteawareofwhatI’mthinkingabout.”
Aheadybreathleftme.“Youshouldhaveotherthingsonyourmind.”
“Notwhenabeautifulwomanstandsbeforeme,onewhohasbeenbraveandkind,givingmeaidinmytimeofneed,endangeringherself,andaskingfornothinginreturn.”
Mylaughsoundedshaky.“Thereisnoneedforflattery.”
“Ionlyspeakthetruth.”Hiswordscoastedovermycheek,ignitingaflutterdeepinside.
EachbreathItookfeltlabored.Forthehundredthtimethatevening,IwonderedwhatintheworldIwasdoing.ButIwasstillstandingthere,pulseracingasmyeyesreturnedtohishandandhisfingers,nowbent.Thetipswerepressedintotheceramic—
Airleakedfrommylips.Hisfingersweredentingtheceramictile.
TheLordliftedhishandthen,cuppingmychin.Astrangesoundrumbledupmythroat,oneIdidn’tthinkI’devermadebefore.Iwasbarelyabletobitebackthemoan.Histouchwasfeatherlight,barelythere,butmysenseswenthaywire.Ifeltitineverypartofmybeing.Hetippedmyheadback.Hiseyes…thosecolorswereadizzyingkaleidoscope,andspotsofwhiteappearedinhispupils.Ourgazesconnected,andIbracedmyselfoutofhabit,butI…Istillsawandheardnothing.
Hisfingers—thesamethathadjustdentedceramic—grazedmycheek,catchingthestrandsofhairthere.SoapybubblesseepedbetweenmyfingersasIstoodthere,heartracingoutofcontrol.Hetuckedthehairbackbehindmyear,handthenslidingtomyjaw,andIsworeIfeltthatlighttouchthroughouttheentiretyofmybody.HisotherhandfoundthesoapIcurrentlyhadinadeathgrip.Heprieditfrommyfingers,placingitontheledge.
Heatreturned,flushingmyskinandinvadingmyblood.Mychestached,becomingheavy.Desire,hotanddark,pulsedthroughme.Hebarelytouchedme.Justafeatherlightbrushagainstmyjaw,andmyentirebodythrobbed.I’dneverinmylifebeenso…soviscerallyaffected.
TheLordsteppedincloser,asifIhadwilledhimto,andthatwasjustasillythought,butsomehow,I’dmovedtoo.Hiscockbrushedmybelly,andIshuddered,theverycoreofmetightening.Tinytremorsrackedmyentirebody.Myfingerspracticallyachedwiththewanttotouchhim.
Theneedtotouchhim.CHAPTER6
Itrulyhadneverfeltsuchneedbefore.IachedasIliftedmyhand—
Thenitstruckme.
Thewhybehindsuchneed.
Hyhbornexudedsensuality,intheirvoicesandintheirtouch,andthatcarnallushnessspilledintotheairaroundthem,influencingeventhemostpiousoflowborntobealittlebitwicked.ItwaswhytheupcomingFeastsbecameexactlywhatI’dsaidtoNaomiearlier—adecadentindulgenceinallthingscarnal.
Thathadtobethecauseofmyreactiontohim.
Thatandthefactthathewas,well,morethanjustpleasanttolookupon,andwebothwerecompletelynude.
MyheartbeatsofastIthoughtitmightactuallygiveoutonmeasmygazelowered,fallingtothewoundonhischest.
Thesightofthenearlyhealedwoundbroughtforthasemblanceofcommonsense
Suckinginasharpbreath,Itookastepback.Hishandslippedfrommyjaw,leavingaswirloftinglesbehind.
“Ineedtodryoff.Excuseme.”Ileftthestall,quicklygrabbingoneofthetowels.Iwrappeditaroundme,thengatheredupmyclothingandquicklyleftthebathingchamber.
WaterdrippedfrommeasIenteredtheunfamiliarbedchamber.Idriedoffhastily,mymindamessasIwenttothewardrobe.IsearcheduntilIfoundasuitableshirt.TherewasnowayIcouldputthatnightgownbackon.Iwasgoingtohavetoburnit.Maybethecloaktoo—somethingIwould’veneverconsideredduringmytimebeforeArchwood.Bloody.Soiled.Ithadn’tmattered.Clothinghadsimplybeenclothing.
TheshirtIpulledoutwassoftandworn,reachingmyknees.Itwascompletelyinappropriatetobedressedassuch,butitwasshapelessandprovidedthesameamountofcoverageasthenightgownIhadwornandhalfofmygowns.Andbesides,Ihadjustbeencompletelynude.
Ijust…justfeltdifferent.
Asdidthenear-rawreactiontohim—mywantofhim.Itwasentirelytooanimalistic,tooprimal.
Rootingaroundinthewardrobe,IfoundapairofcleanbreechesthatlookedliketheycouldfittheLord.Ipulledthemoutandanothershirt,thisonewhite,drapingbothoverthecornerofthebed.
Hearingthewaterturnoff,Ituggedtheloosestrandsofhairfreefromthecollaroftheshirt.Makingmywaytothesmalltable,Iturnedonthelampandthenpouredaglassofwaterforhimandoneformyself.Idownedtheliquid,butitwasofnohelpincalmingmyheartornerves.Isatontheedgeofthebed,thinkingIprobablyshould’vetakenthetimetobolt.
Ihadnoideawhattimeitwas,butthecitystreetsoutsidethehomewerequiet.Morningmustbeonlyhoursaway.Itouchedthebridgeofmynoseandwincedattheflareofdullpain.HowwasIgoingtoexplainthis?
Hearingthebathingchamberopen,Iloweredmyhandtomylap.“Thereiswateronthetable,”Itoldhim.“Ipouredyouaglassandfoundyousomeclothingthatmightfit.”
“Appreciated.”
Ipeekedupthen,mygazetravelingoverthecordedmusclesofhisbackashewalkedtowardthecupboard.Heworenothingmorethanthetowelwrappedaroundhiships,andthatwas,well,simplyindecentinthemostdeliciouswayIcertainlywasn’tacknowledging.
TheLordwassilentashedrankthewater,filledathirdglass,andfinishedthatofftoo.Thatwasgood—himdrinkingsomuchwater.Iwatchedhimplacetheglassonthetable,thenturnfortheclothing.Hepickeduptheblackbreeches.
“Thesewilldo,”hesaid.
“Good.”
Heundidthetowel,andIquicklylookedaway,facewarmingdespiteallthatI’dsaid.WhenIwassurehewasatleastpartiallyclothed,Iglancedovertofindthathehaddonnedthebreeches.Theywerelooseathiswaist,hanginglowonhiships.
Iblinkedinsurprise.Thewoundsonhisarmsandinhischestappearedtobealmostgone.Ilookedupathisface.Thefainttracesofbruisesthathadremainedwhilehe’dbeenintheshowerwerecompletelygone.AtinglingsensationsweptthroughmeasItookintheLord’shigh,angledcheekbonesandthestraight,proudnose.Hisjawcutahard,carvedline,andhismouthwaswideandlush.Therewasafaint,almostfelinequalitytohisfeaturesnowvisiblewithoutthebruising.Itwaslikelookingataworkofartthatonefearedtoappreciatebecausethebeautywasunsettling.
“Yourwounds,”Imanaged.
“They’rehealing,”heanswered.Hishairwasslickedbackfromhisface.“Thankstoyou.”
Therewasanunsteadyflutterinmychest.“Ididn’tdomuch.”
Heeyedmeforamoment.“DoyouknowwhyHyhbornhavesuchasensualeffectonmortals?”
Hisquestioncaughtmeoffguard,andittookmeamomenttoanswer.“Iknowsome…thingsaboutwhathelpsstrengthenaHyhborn.”
Onesideofhislipscurvedup.“Anddothesethingsyouknowinvolvepleasure?”
“IknowthatHyhborn…”IstruggledtofindanaccuratewordtodescribewhatI’dheard.
TheLord,however,didnot.“Feed?”
Inodded,feelingmyskinwarmabit.“I’mnotsurehowI’vebeenofaidtoyouinthatarea.”
“Na’laa,”hemurmured,chuckling.“Youfoundgreatpleasureinaidingmeintheshower.Notthatyouareunawareofthat.”
Snappingmymouthshut,Ilookedaway.Iwasn’tunawareofthat.I’djustforgotteninthemomentthatmypleasureinthesimpleactoftouchinghimwassomethingthatcouldhelphim.
“Wedon’tjustfeedonthepleasureofothers,”headdedafteramoment.“Wealsofeedonourownpleasure.Itooenjoyedtheshower.”
Ipeekedathim,forsomeidioticreasonpleasedthathe’denjoyedit.
“Butyoudidevenmorethanyourealize,”hecontinued.“Yousavedlivestonight.”
Lives?Namelyhis.UncomfortablewiththatideaandevenmorethatIwasdisquietedbythatfact,Isquirmed.“Youdon’tknow.Youcould’veescaped.”
“Oh,Iwould’vedefinitelyescapedonceIcameto,”hesaid.“Mypurposeforbeingherewouldn’tmatter.Iwould’veleveledhalfthistown.Iwould’veleftnothingbutashandruinbehind.”
Mychestclenched.“You…youwould’vedonethat?”
“Yes.Iwouldn’thavebeenpleasedwithwhatI’ddone.Itakenojoyinthekillingofinnocents,butmyguiltwouldn’thaveundonemyactionsormadeupforthem,nowwouldithave?”
“No,”Iwhispered,unsettledbywhathewassharing—byhowcloseArchwoodhadcometodestruction.
“Interesting.”
“What?”Itensedashestartedtowardthebed.
“Thiswholetime,youhaven’tbeenafraidofme.You’restillnot.”Hisheadinclinedtotheconstantmovementofmyfingers,openingandclosinginmylap.“Butyou’renervous.Unlessyou’renormallythisfidgety?”
Ibitdownonmylip,stoppingmyselffromimmediatelydenyingit.“Iamnormallythisfidgety,”Iadmitted.“Andyoudomakemenervous.Ifyousaidtherewasnoreasontobe,I’dstillfeelthatway.”
“ButIwouldn’ttellyouthat,”hesaid.“Youshouldalwaysbenervousaroundonelikemyself.”
“Oh,”Iwhispered.“That’s…that’sreassuring.”
TheHyhbornlordsmiled.Therewasthisrazor-sharp,almostpredatoryedgetoit.“Butyoudon’thavetofearme.Thereisadifferencebetweenthetwo.”
“HowwouldyouknowifI’mnervousorafraid?”
“It’sinthequickeningofyourbreathandyourheart.”
Mybrowslifted.“I…Ididn’tknowyoucouldhearthat?”
“It’snotsomuchhearing,butifwe’refocusedonanindividual,tunedintotheiressence,wecan.It’showwecanfeed.”Ahintofsmilebrieflyappeared.“AndI’mfocusedonyouenoughthatIcantellexactlywhatcausesthathitchinyourbreath—whenit’snotfearthatcausesachangeinyourbreathingandwhenit’spleasure.”Apause.“Arousal.”
Iinhaledsharply.“I’mnot—”
“Goingtolietome?BecauseI’dknowbetter.”
“Idon’tthinkyoudo,”IcounteredasIscootedback,theshirtsnaggingaroundmythighs.
“Butpleasedolie.Itamusesme.”
Ifrownedathim,thinkingthatwasodd.
Heplantedakneeonthebed.Ourgazeslocked,andtheurgetoaskifherecognizedmehithard.Heobviouslyhadn’t.Ifso,hewould’vesurelysaidsomething,butforsomeridiculous,pointlessreasonIwantedtoknowifheevenremembered.
“Doyou—”Somethingstoppedme.Iwasn’tsurewhatitwas.Whywoulditmatterifhedid?OrifItoldhimthatwe’dmetbefore?
Thenitstruckme.
Itwasmyintuition.Theheightenedlevelofinstinct.Therehadtobeareasonforthat,especiallysincemyintuitionrarelyworkedtomybenefit.Myintuitionwasstoppingme.Why,Ididn’tknow,butmyheartturnedoverheavily.
“Areyouallright?”theLordasked.
“Yeah.Yes.”Iclearedmythroat.“I’mjusttired.It’sbeenastrangenight.”
Hestaredatmeforamoment.“Thatithas.”
Thenervousnesshesensedearlierreturned.“Weshouldbeleavingbefore—”
“Iknow,”hesaid,andthentheLordmovedsounbelievablyfast.HewasabovemebeforeItookanotherbreath.
Hismerepresenceforcedmeontomyback.Ourbodiesdidn’ttouch,buthewascagingme,hislargeframeblockingoutthequarters—theentirerealm—untilitwasonlyhim.Onlyus.Hebroughthisfingertipstomycheek.Myentirebodyjerkedatthetouch.Theblueswirledcompletelyintothegreenofhiseyesashedrewhisfingersdownmycheek,catchingastrandofhair.Hetuckeditback,hisgentlenessshocking.
“You’renotafraidofmenow,”henoted.
“No.”Isuckedinasmallbreathasthepadsofhisfingersmadeanotherpassovermybottomlip.“Areyoutryingtomakemeafraid?”
“I’mnotsure.”
AshiverofapprehensiontingedwithsomethingIcouldn’tacknowledgeskatedovermyskin.
Hisgazesweptovermyfaceandthenlower,acrossmythroat.“Iknowyousaidyouwerefineearlier,butinafewhours,theskinbeneathyoureyesandnosewilldarken,joiningthebruisesIleftuponyourthroat.Letmechangethat.”
Istaredathim.“You…youcandothat?”
“TherearemanythingsIcando.”Thathalfgrinreturnedasmyeyesnarrowed.“Letmedothisforyou.”
NothavingtoworryabouthowIwouldexplainthebruiseswouldbearelief,butitwasmorecuriositythananything.Iwasn’tsurehowhecoulddothis.
“Youneedtocloseyoureyes,”hesaid.
“Really?”
“Really.”Thestarburstsinhispupilsbrightened.
Holdinghisstareforseveralmoments,Inoddedandthendidasherequested.Iclosedmyeyes.Aheartbeatpassed,thenanother,andnothinghappened.Istartedtoopenmyeyesbutstopped.Thefingersalongthecurveofmyjaw…warmed.Ifelthisbreathonmychin.Againstmypartedlips.Ididn’ttakemorethanashallow,quickbreaththen.Hisbreathmovedup,andanothertensesecondpassed.ThenIfeltthesoftpressofhis…hislipsagainstthebridgeofmynose.Myentirebodyjerked.
“Staystill,”heordered,hisbreathcoastingovermycheek.
Itriedto,butatremorstarted,coursingthroughme.Hismouthlifted.Therewasnothing…andthensomething—astrangetinglingwarmth.Hisbreathplayedoverthesideofmythroatandhislipsfollowed.Hekissedjustbelowthewildlybeatingpulse.Isuckedinastutteredgaspashishairgrazedmychin,thenhislipspressedagainsttheotherside.Theshiverywarmthblossomedtolifethere,andinafewmoments,theachesIhadforcedtothebackofmymindfaded.
ButtheLorddidn’tmoveaway.
Hisheadremainedbent,hislipspressedsosoftlyagainstmythroat,andawhollydifferentkindofwarmthcamealiveoncemore,sendinganachingpulsedeep.This…thisfeltfarmoredangerousthanbeingintheshowerstallwithhim,butthenhislipsliftedfrommyskin.Hedrewback,andIwantedtofeelimmenserelief.Ishould.
Ididn’t.
Slowly,Iopenedmyeyes.Heremainedaboveme,eyeshalfclosed,andIthought…IthoughtIsawafaintgoldenglowaroundhim,likeIhadthoughtI’dseenintheshower.Wasitthelamplight?Ididn’tthinkso.“Yourkisses…”Myvoicesoundedfartooreedy.Iclearedmythroat.“Yourkissesheal?”
“Someinjuries.”Therightsideofhislipsquirked.“Sometimes.”
Ihadthedistinctimpressionhewasn’tbeingallthattruthful.“I’mnotsureifyourealizethisornot,butIthinkyou’rekindofglowing.”
“Ithappens.”
“When…you’refeeding?”Iguessed.
“Yes.”
Iglanceddown.Myeyeswentwide.“Thewoundonyourchestisclosed.”Iglancedathisarms.Shiny,pinkskinhadappearedwherethewoundshadbeeninhisbiceps.
Hisfingersdancedalongthenecklineofmyborrowedshirt,whilemyownfingerswerepressedflatagainstthebed,behavingthemselves.Theypracticallyitchedwiththeurgetotouchhim.
Andwhycouldn’tI?
Well,therewerealotofreasons,likelyonesIhadn’teventhoughtofyet,butIliftedahand.Outofhabit,Ihesitatedbeforeplacingmypalmagainsthischest.
TheLord…hepurred.
Skinwarming,Idrewmyfingersoverthecarvedslabsofhardmuscle.NevercouldIbecomeaccustomedtothefeelofaHyhborn’sskin.
NeverwouldIbecomeusedtobeingabletotouchsomeonesoeasily.
HeheldstillabovemeasIdrewmyhanddownhischest,lipsparted.Iknewthiscouldn’tcontinue.Weneededtogetoutofhere.Ineededtoreturntothemanor,but…butmyfingersdrifteddown,overthetightlypackedmuscleofhisabdomen.Ireachedtheloosebandofhisbreeches.Thetipsofmyfingersbrushedoverahard,rounded—
Adark,shadowysoundrumbledfromtheLordashecaughtmywrist,stoppingmyexploration.“AsmuchasI’denjoyallowingyoutocontinue,Ifearwedon’thavetimeforthat.”
Mygazelifted.Hewasright.Myfingerscurledinward.“Iknow.”
Hedippedhisheadasheliftedmyhandtohismouth.Iinhaledsoftlyashepressedakisstothecenterofmypalm.Ourgazeslockedoncemore.Thebluehadcoveredalltheothercolors,becominganintenseshadeofsapphire.
Thenhewasgonefromaboveme,standingseveralfeetaway.Hisheadcutsharplytowardthewindow.
“Stayhere,”hesaidsoftly.
Swallowinghard,Isatup,feelingdizzydoingso.“Iseverythingokay?”
“Yes.”Hisattentionshiftedbacktome,thegreensandbrownbecomingvisibleoncemore.“A…afriendhasarrived.”
Frowning,Istrainedtohearanythingthatcould’vealertedhimtosuchapresence,butheardnothing.
“I’llberightback.”
Iblinked,andtheLordwasgoneyetagain.Stunnedbyhowfasthemoved,Iroseonshakylegs.Ididn’tletmyselfthinkaboutanythingasIwentintothebathingchambertogathermyruinedclothing.Aftertoeingonmyboots,Isteppedintothebedchamber,waitinguntiltheverylastminutebeforeIdonnedmycloak.
TheLordwasn’tgonethatlong;itwasmaybeafewmoremomentsbeforeIfeltastirringofairinthechamber.Iturned,findinghimstandinginthedoorwayofthebedchamber.Heheldsomethingblackinhishands.
“Isyourfriendstillhere?”Iasked.
TheLordnodded.“Thehorsetetheredinthewoods?Isityours?”
Iglancedatthelonewindow.“Ifit’stheoneeatingeverythinginsight,thenyes.”
“Sheis.”Therewasapause.“Thatisafinehorse.”
Inodded.
“Ibroughtyouthis.Itisacloak—acleanone.”
“Oh,than—”RememberingoneofthebizarrecustomssurroundingtheHyhborn,Istoppedmyselffromthankinghim.Supposedlytheyfeltittaintedtheiractorsomething.“Thatiskindofyou.”
Hesaidnothingashecametome,takingmysoiledclothing,droppingitonthebed.“Thiswillneedtobedestroyed,”hesaid.“Hyhbornbloodwillnotwashfromtheitems.”
ThatwassomethingelseIhadn’tknown.
“Howfardoyouhavetotraveltoreturnhome?”heasked.
“Notthat…”Itrailedoffashedrapedthecloakovermyshoulders.Thebacksofhishandsgrazedmychestashedrewthehalvestogether.Thematerialwasheavierthanwhatwaswornthistimeofyear,butitmorethanreachedthefloor,hidingmybarelegs.
“Howfar?”herepeated,securingtheclaspsatmythroat.
“Notagreatdistance.”
Heeyedme.“Good.”
“Andyou?”
TherewassomethinghardabouttheLord’ssmile,anditwascompletelyatoddswiththegentlenessofhistouch.Hebroughthishandtomycheek.Thetipsofhisfingersglidedovermyskin.“It’ssafeforyoutoleave.Youshoulddothatanddosoquickly.”
Ashivereruptedalongmyspine.“Whatareyou—”
“Youdon’twantmetoanswerthat.”Hepalmedmyjaw,causingmybreathtocatchasheranhisthumbovermylowerlip.
Hisgazeheldmineforseveralmoremoments;thenhedroppedhishandandsteppedtotheside.Ididn’tmove,though,notforseveralmoments,anditwashardtomakemyselfdoit.“Willyoubeokay?”
Therewasafaintsofteningtohisfeatures.“Iwill.”
“Okay.”Iswallowed.“Goodbyethen.”
TheLordsaidnothing.
Ibrieflyclosedmyeyes,thenforcedmyselftowalk.Iwentforthedoor.
“Na’laa?”
Istoppedassomething…somethinglikehopeswelledinsideme.Hopeforwhat?Ireallycouldn’tsayasIlookedovermyshoulderathim.
TheLordstoodwithhisbacktome,shouldersatensestraightline.“Becareful.”CHAPTER7
Leaningovertheneatrowoffiery-pinkdianthus,Icurledmyfingersaroundthebaseofadandelion.Feelingabitguilty,Itorethelittlesuckerfromthesoil.Withalltheirmedicinalbenefits,theweedswouldn’tgowasted,butIstillfeltbadfortearingthemoutforpurelycosmeticreasons.
Itdidn’thelpthatmymindconjuredupwoefulshriekseverytimeIyankedoutaweed.
AsItossedtheweedintothebasketofitscohorts,myattentionshiftedtothepurplish-bluespikesofcatmint.Atonce,Isawhim—heardhisvoiceandfelthim.
MyHyhbornlord.
Lastnight…itfeltlikeafeverdream,butthegrislymemoriesofseeinghimimpaledtothattablewerealltooreal,aswastheshower.Touchinghim.Thefeelofhimbeneathmypalms.Thebrushofhislipsagainstmybruisedskin.
Still,noneofitfeltreal—I’dknownIwouldseehimagain,butneverintwolifetimeswouldIhaveexpectedwhathadhappened.Myreactiontohim.Mywant.Need.Anyofit.
AfaintshudderrockedmeasIreopenedmyeyesandlookedup,pastthestonewallsofthemanor,towardthecityofArchwood.Dualstreamsofsmokestillfilledtheairnearthewharf.
Iswallowed,skinchillingdespitethewarmthoftheearly-morningsun.
WhenIhadwokenafteronlyafewhours,ifthat,ofsleep,I’dfoundmyselfstaringattheluneadaggerlyingonthenightstandbesidemybed.I’dsnatcheditfromthecupboardasIlefttheblacksmith’shouse.Takingitwasn’tsomethingI’dconsciouslythoughtofdoing.I’djustdoneit,guidedbyintuition.
AndasI’dstaredatthatstrangeblade,I’dthoughtaboutwhatIneededtodo.ClaudehadtobemadeawareoftheapparentlyveryactiveshadowmarketinArchwood,andthefactthatatleasttwoofhisguardswereinvolvedinnotonlythetradebuttheharvesting.
KnowingthatClaudewouldn’tbeawakeuntillater,I’dheadedouttothegardensinhopesofstillingmymind.Thegardensandhavingmyhandsinthesoilwould’vehelpedifnotforthesmokeI’dspottedassoonasIsteppedoutofthemanor.Ididn’tneedmygiftstoknowwhatthecauseofthefireswas.
Him.
Itwaswhyhe’dsaidIdidn’twanthimtoanswerthequestionofwhathewasgoingtodo.
He’dsoughtrevenge.ButcoulditevencountasrevengewhenwhateverhisactionswerelikelypreventedanotherHyhbornfrombeingusedinsuchamanner?Soundedmorelikejusticetome,asharshasthatwas.
Ihadn’tseenFinnorMickiethatmorning,butIhadn’texactlylookedforthemasIenteredthegardens.Ithought—no,Iknew—therewasnoreasonto.Theywerenolongerofthisrealm.
AndIdidn’tfeelanounceofsympathyforthem,notevenFinnandhisnicesmiles.Whattheywereapartofwaswrong,horrificeven.ItwasnothinglikethestoriesI’dheardofpeoplediggingupHyhborngravestousewhatwasleftoftheirremains.Theywerecommittingtortureandmurder,andiftheyhadsucceededindrainingtheLordofallhisblood?Harvestinghis…hispartsandsellingthemontheshadowmarket?Eventually,thosekindsofdeedsalwayscametolight.IneedednointuitiontotellmehowKingEuroswouldrespondifhelearnedofwhathadbeenattemptedagainstoneofhislords.He’dsendthedreadedPrinceofVytrustohandleArchwood,andwhateverunrestwashappeningattheborderwouldbetheleastofourproblems.
Butitwasn’teventhatterriblerealitythatcausedmyhearttoseize.Itwastheideathat…thathecould’vedied.Themerethoughtmademesicktomystomach,andIshouldn’thavethatkindofreactiontoit,nomatterthebriefpastIwasn’tsureheevenremembered.
WashestillinArchwood?
Iremainedstill,silencingmythoughts,butnothingcame.
ButIhoped—
“No,”Iwhispered,cuttingthatparticularidioticthoughtoff.Iwouldnothopetoseehimagain.Besidesthefactthathewasalord,therewasalwaystheriskofaHyhborndiscoveringmyabilitiesandaccusingmeofbeingaconjurer.
ItwouldbebestifIneversawhimagain.
No,thatvoicewhisperedinmymind,itwouldnotbe.
Ashadowappearedbesidemine,blockingouttheearly-morningglareofthesun.Ilookedovermyshoulder,spottingGrady.
“Beenlookingforyou,”heannounced.“Youhearaboutthefiresearlythismorning?”
“No,butI’veseenthesmoke.”Inibbledonmylowerlip.“Do…doyouknowwhathappened?”
“TheTwinBarrelsandJac’s—theblacksmith’splace—burned.That’swhatOsmundtoldme,”hesaid,referringtoanotherguard.“Hewasonthewallearlythismorningwhenthefiresstarted.”
Itensed.
“WhenIfirstheardofthefires,IwashopingitwastheIronKnights—”
“Gods,Grady,”Icuthimoff,stomachtwisting.“Youshouldn’tevenbethinkingthat,letalonespeakingitoutloud.”
“What?”Gradyrolledhiseyes.“Thereisn’tanyoneouthere.”
“Youdon’tknowwhocouldbenearandoverhearyou,”Ipointedout.“Ifsomeonedidandreportedyou?”Myheartstuttered.“You’dbetriedfortreason,Grady,andbytried,Imeanexecutedwithoutatrial.”
“Yeah,andyoucan’ttellmethat’snotwrong,”heshotback.“ThefactthatthemeresuspicionofbeingsympathetictotheIronKnightsendsindeathorworse?LikewhatwasdonetoAstoria?”
“Itismessedup,andsoishopingtheIronKnightshadsomethingtodowiththefiressinceyouknowexactlywhathappenedtoAstoria.”
“Again,youcan’ttellmethat’snotalsowrong.”
“I’mnotsayingitisn’t….”Itrailedoff,staringathim.EversincenewsofBeylenandtheIronKnightsfirstreachedArchwood,Gradyhadshownmorethanapassinginterestinwhatwasbeingsaidabouttherebels.Andhowcouldhenot?Bothofuswereproductsofakingdomthatcaredverylittleforitsmostvulnerable,butwehadalifenow.Wehadafuture,andIhadalreadyriskedthatenoughforthebothofus.WorrygnawedatmeasIlookedaway.
“Anyway,”Gradysaidwithaheavysigh.“Itwasn’ttheIronKnights.Osmundsaidtheflamesweregolden,andyouknowonlyonethingcancreatethatkindoffire.”Gradycontinued,“Butthat’snotall.”
Knotsformedinmystomach.“It’snot?”
“No.Therewerebodiesfound.Twoattheblacksmith’sandthreeattheTwinBarrels.”
Ishouldn’tfeelrelief,butIdid.Thedeathtollcould’vebeenhigherjustattheTwinBarrels,whereroomswerealwaysrented.Anditcould’vebeencatastrophiciftheLordhaddoneashesaidhewouldhave,leavinghalfthecityinruins.
“That’sterriblenews,”Imumbled,becauseIhonestlydidn’tknowwhattosay.
“Yeah.”Grady’sbrowsknittedashelookedatthesky.“Youdon’tseemallthatsurprised.”
“Idon’t?”
Hewasquietforonlyamoment.“Whatdoyouknow?”
Myheadswungbacktohim.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Hesearchedmyeyes,trustingthatifIlostmygriponmyintuition,Iwouldlookaway.OrifIdidseesomething,Iwouldn’ttellhim.Grady,likeNaomi,didn’twanttoknowwhatthefutureheldforhim,andIcouldrespectthat.“Howlonghaveweknowneachother?”
Iraisedabrow.“Somedaysitfeelslikeforever.”
“Yeah,thisisoneofthem,”heretorted,andIwrinkledmynose.“Youtriedtolietomeearlierandyou’redoingitagain.Whenhaveyoueverbeenabletosuccessfullylietome?”
“IfIhad,youwouldn’tknow.”Igavehimacheekysmile.“Nowwouldyou?”
Therewasnosmile.Therewerenodimples.“Osmundsawyoulastnight,Lis,leavingthemanorgrounds.”
“And?”
“Healsosawyoureturninghourslater,ridinglikeabatoutofhell.”
“I’mnotsurewherethisisgoing?”
“Youwerewearingadifferentcloakuponyourreturn.”
Mymouthdroppedopen.“Howcouldhetellthat?”
Gradyshrugged.“Iguesshehasreallygoodeyes.”
“Gods,”Imuttered.
“So?Yougoingtobehonestwithmenow?”
Iopenedmymouth,butwordsabandonedme.Iwassuchapathologicallyterribleliar.EspeciallywhenitcametoGrady,becauseheknewmewellenoughtoknowthatmylackofresponsetothenewsaboutthefiresmeantsomething.HeknewmebetterthanIdidsomedays.
AndlyingtoGrady,ortryingtoattheveryleast,alwaysfeltwrong.Ifhe’dmanagedtopeelmeoffwhenIfirstlatchedontohim,Iwouldn’thavemadeitoutofthefirstorphanageI’dbeensenttoafterthePrioressofMercyhaddiedandnosuccessorreplacedher.I’dbeenweak.Ahindrance.Ididn’tknowhowtofendformyself—howtomoveaboutwithoutmakingasound.Thestreetswewerelefttoroamwereanunfamiliarandscarymazetome,nordidIknowhowtoavoidthecaretakers’carelesshandsandfists.
Gradyhadbeenkind,eventhen.Orhe’dsimplytakenpityonme.Eitherway,eventuallyIwasnolongershadowinghimbuthewasmakingsureIwasrightbehindhim.HemadesureIsurvived.
GradystillmadesureIsurvived.
Sighing,Icrossedmyarms.“Icouldn’tsleepafterleavingtheGreatChamberandIwentintothestablestospendtimewithIris.WhileIwasthere,Ioverheardtwopeopletalking—FinnandMickie.TheyhadcapturedaHyhborn.”
“Fuck,”hemurmured.
Inoddedslowly.“AndIhadtodosomethingaboutit.”
Grady’sheadtippedtowardmine.“What?”
“Igotthisurge—youknow,thisneedtodoit.Ihadto—”
“AreyouabouttotellmethatyouwentbyyourselftofreethisHyhborn?”
Icringed.“Ididn’twanttoinvolveyou—”
“Areyououtofyourmind?”
“Yes.Completely.”
Gradysighed,scrubbingahandoverhisface.“Deargods.”
Itookadeepbreath,andthenItoldhimwhathadhappened—well,almosteverything.OneofthethingsIleftoutwasthewholeshowersituation.Hedidn’tneedtoknowthat.“So,thosefires?IthastobethisHyhbornlord.”
“Icouldn’tgivetwoshitsaboutthislordatthemoment,”Gradyexclaimed,hisgazeroamingovermyface.“Areyousureyou’renothurt?ShouldIsummononeofthephysiciansandhaveyoucheckedover?”
“Nothinghurts.Seriously.I’mfine.”AndIwas.Therehadn’tbeenasinglebruiseorevenadullachewhenIlookedmyselfoverthismorning.
“ThisHyhbornlordyoutalkedto?”Gradydrewmyattentionbacktohim.“WashefromPrimvera?”
“No,butIdon’tknowwhereheisfrom.”Mystomachdippedandtwisted.Ihadn’ttoldGradythattheLordhadbeenmyHyhbornlord.Gradydidn’tliketotalkaboutthatnightinUnionCity.Thatwasn’tagoodenoughexcusefornotsayinganything,butI’dalsonevertoldhimthatIknewI’dseetheLordagain.
Glancingatthehorizon,Isawthatthefainttracesofsmokeremained,andithappenedagain.Thecoldnessbetweenmyshoulderbladesandthehollowinmystomach.Thewhisperreturned,repeatingthesametwowordsithadsaidintheGreatChamber.
He’scoming.
Uponreturning,IfoundtheBaroninhisstudy,seatedatthesetteewithaclothdrapedoverhisforeheadandeyes,thankfullyalone.
Strawhatinhand,Ipushedthedoorallthewayopen.“Claude?”
Heliftedalimpwrist.“Lis,darling,docomein.”
Iclosedthedoorbehindmeandwenttothematchingforest-greensetteeacrossfromtheonehesatin.“Howareyoudoingthismorning?”
“I’mfeelingquitewell.”Heleanedback,crossingonelonglegovertheother.“Can’tyoutell?”
Ismiledalittle,sortofamusedbythefactthatevencaelestiascouldgethangovers.“Yes,youlookenergeticandreadytoseizetheday.”
“Youaretookind,pet.”Awangrinappearedbeneaththepalebluecloth.“Whatbringsyoutomethismorning?”
“There’ssomethingIneedtotellyou.”
“Idohopeit’sgoodnews.”WhenIdidn’tanswer,hepeeledtheclothbackfromonehalf-openeye.“Whatinthegods’nameareyouwearing?”
Iglanceddownatmyself,confused.IworeanoldthreadbareblouseandapairofbreechesthatIfoundafewyearsback,leftbehindinthelaundrychambers.Granted,thepantshadseenbetterdays,buttheywereperfectforwhenIwasoutside.“Iwasinthegardens.”
Aneyebrowrose.“Whosepantsarethose?”
“Ihavenoidea,”Isaid,andhislipcurledliketheideaofwearingsomeoneelse’sclothesmadehimwanttovomit.“I…Iknowsomethingthatcouldpotentiallybeabadthing.”
Claudesighed,removingthecloth.Hedroppeditontheendtable.“Hopefullyit’snotmorestrange,goldenfires.”
“You’veheard?”
“Hymelwokemewiththenews.”HepickedupwhatIhopedwasonlyaglassoforangejuice.“Isitaboutthat?”
“I’mnotsure.”Ichosemywordswisely.“Lastnight,IcameacrossFinnandMickie—twoofyourguards.”
ThelookonhisfacetoldmehehadnoideawhoIwastalkingabout.
“AndIlearnedsomethingaboutthem,”Ishared.“Theyareinvolvedintheshadowmarket.”
Claudeloweredhisglass.“Inwhatway?”
“Theworstway,”Isaid.“Harvesting…partsforbonemagic.”
Hestaredatmeforamoment.“Forfuck’ssake,areyousure?”
Istaredathim.
“Yes.Ofcourseyouare.”Hesettheglassasideashedroppedhisboottothefloor.Thedarkshirtheworemovedlikeliquidsilkoverhisshouldersashedraggedahandthroughhishair.“Thosefires?Hymelsaidthemagistrateshadheardfromwitnessesthattheflamesweregolden.”
“That’swhatGradytoldme.”Myfingerscurledalongtherimofmyhat.“Theyweren’tsuccessfulintheirharvesting.”
“Iwouldn’tthinksobasedonthecharredremainsfoundafterthefireswereputout,”heremarked,andmystomachsoured.“Porter?TheowneroftheTwinBarrels?Hewasengagedinthisbusiness?”
Inodded.“Idon’tknowhowmanyareinvolved,but…”
“Butatleasttwoofmyguardsare?”Hisjawtightened.“Orwere,iftheywereamongthebodiesdiscovered.”
“TherewasanothernamethatI’veheard.AMuriel.”
Claudefrowned.“Muriel?”
“Yes.I’mnotsurewhothatis.”
Heeyedmeforamoment,thensatback.Amomentpassed.“ThelastthingweneedisforPrinceRainertobelieveArchwoodisahavenforthoseseekingtousebonemagic.”
PrinceRaineroversawtheCourtofPrimvera.IhadneverseentheHyhborn,butClaudesaidthePrincewasafriendlysort.Hopefullyhecontinuedtobethatway.
“Icantrytoseeifanyotherguardsareinvolved,”Ioffered.
Claude’schestrosewithaheavybreath.“Thankyouforcomingtome,andforyouraid.Thatwouldbeappreciated.”
Inodded,beginningtorise.“Hopefullytheywereit.”
“Yes,”Claudemurmured,squintingashestaredoutthewindow.“Hopefully.”
“I’llletyouknowifIfindanything.”Istartedtoleave,thenstopped.“Wouldyoulikesomethingforyourheadache?Ihavesomepeppermint—”
“No,thatwon’tbenecessary.”Hissmileturnedwryashelookedupatme.“Theheadachesaredeserved.”
Theyprobablywere,butIdidn’tthinkthatmeantheneededtosuffer.“Yousure?”
“Yes,pet.Iam.”
Hesitatingforamoment,Ithenturned.Imadeitonlyafewsteps.
“Pet?”
Ifacedhim.“Yes?”
He’dpickedupthecloth.“Areyouhappyhere?”
“Yes,ofcourse.Whydoyouask?”Atonce,mystomachdroppedasmymindwenttotheworst-casescenario.Forhimtoasksomethingsimilartwiceinthespanoftwenty-fourhoursunnervedme.“Areyounothappywithme?”
“No—no.That’snotwhyIasked,”hewasquicktosay.“I’mluckytohaveyou.”Hetwistedatthewaist,towardme.“Ijustwanttomakesureyouknowthat.”
“Ido,”Iwhispered.
Claudesmiled,buttherewassomethingoffaboutit.Tired,evenbrittle,butIimaginedthathadmoretodowiththeacheinhishead.
“Feelbetter,”Isaid,crossingthestudy.Somethingstruckmethen—aboutthisMuriel.
Ididn’tknow…anythingabouthim.Nothingcametome,whichcouldmeanonlyonething.
MurielwasaHyhborn.
Butthatmadelittlesense.WhywouldaHyhbornbeinvolvedinbonemagic?CHAPTER8
Sultrymusicdrifteddownfromthebalconyabovethesolarium,maskingsomeofthesoundsradiatingfromthevariouscouchesandnooks.Beneaththemusicandtheclinkofglasses,therewerethicker,heatedsoundsminglingwiththehumofconversation.Teasinglaughter.Lowgroans.Breathygaspsasbodiesmovedagainstoneanother.
Theeveningfestivitieswereinfullswing—anexcessinallformsoflasciviousness,whetheritbeimbibingtoomuchdrinkorindulgingintheflesh.
IshiftedonthecouchIsatupon,mychestfeelingtootightasmythoughtscircledthegeneralsenseofuneasethathadbeenbuildingsinceI’dspokentoGradyandhadleftClaude’sstudy.Thecauseofitcouldbeseveralthings.Theraidsalongtheborder.TheshadowmarketinArchwood.Claude.AHyhbornpotentiallybeinginvolvedinharvesting.Him.
He’scoming.
Myskinfelttoocolddespitethebalmywarmthofthesolarium,andthesweet-tastingwineIsippeddidlittletowarmme.Iknewthatwhisperwasforhim—mylord—butwhatIdidn’tunderstandwaswhyIcouldsensethatandyetnothingelsewhenitcametoHyhborn.
IeyedwhereClaudewascurrentlyholdingcourtwithhisclosestpeers—sonsanddaughtersofArchwood’smostelite,thosedesperatetobeclosetoanythingHyhborn,evenacaelestia.TheylaughedandcarriedonwhileClaudeheldAllysoninhislap.
TheBaronhaddisappearedmorethanoncetostepoutside,andIfearedhe’dalsobeenindulgingintheMidnightOil—apowderderivedfrompoppiesgrownintheLowlandsandoftensmoked.Caelestiashadahighertolerance,buttheydidn’tseemtoknowexactlywhentheyexceededthattolerance.Hehadthatunsteadywayabouthimthatalwaysfollowedsmokingthedrug.HadhereachedouttoPrinceRainer?
Ididn’tknow,butI’dspentagoodpartofthedaystrollingnearthewall,peekingintothethoughtsoftheguardswhowereonduty.Thankfullynoneofthemhadsentupanyredflags,butthenagain,theywouldhavetohavebeenthinkingabouttheshadowmarketformetopickuponit.
However,IdidlearnthatHendrick,oneoftheguards,wasthinkingaboutproposingtothegirlhe’dbeenseeing.
NotsurewhatIcoulddowiththatpieceofinformation.
ItookanotherdrinkofthewineasIpeekedoveratthenearbydivan,andnearlychokedatthesightofMrs.Isbill.Thewifeofawealthyshipmerchantwaslikelyunrecognizabletomost,sincehalfherfacewasobscuredbyajewel-encrusteddominomask.Shewassprawledacrosstheredcushion,thebodiceofhergownexposingonebreast.Theskirtofhergownwashikeduptoherknees,doingverylittletohidethefactthatitwasmostdefinitelynotherhusband’sheadbetweenherthighs.Iknewthis,becausehewascurrentlyseatedbesideher,andwhoeverwasbetweenherlegsalsohadhishandonMr.Isbill’scock.
Mygazeflickeredoverthoseinattendance.LiketheIsbills,mostworemasksthatcoveredhalfoftheface,fromtheforeheadtothenose.Someworeelaborateconstructionsofflowersandstreamingribbons,toppedwithcrownsorgarlands.Otherswerelessdramaticintheirapproach,simplysettlingforonemadeofsatinorbrocade.Thearistousedthesemaskstoconcealthemselves,asifkeepingtheiridentitieshiddenwasthepermissiontheyneededtobehaveastheywished.
IglancedatClaudeagain.Likeme,heworenomask,andneitherdidGradyortheguardswhostoodbehindhim.
GradyandIhadbeenstudiouslyavoidingeyecontactallevening,pretendingthatweweren’twitnessingallthatwasoccurringinthischamberatthesametime.Nomatterhowmanytimesthenightsdevolvedintothis,itwasstillawkwardashell.
Ifixedmygazeonthefloor,sinceitwastheonlysafeplacetolookatthemoment.Thebehaviorofthearistoamusedme.Claudenevermadeanyattempttohidehisdesires.Hewouldn’tbeashamedcomemorning,likesomeofthearistoinattendancesurelywould.Mostofthemwouldneverbehaveinsuchprovocative,wantonwaysinpublic,buthereatArchwood,whentheywereassuredofnotbeingrecognizedandamongthosewhowantedthesamethingastheydid,thereappearedtobenopretenseofmodesty.
Isupposedtheirbehaviorwasn’tasamusingasitwassad.However,itwasthearisto,nottheHyhborn,whohadnotonlyestablishedbutreinforcedtheserulesofwhattheyfeltwasappropriatebehavior.Thesearistowerestiflingthemselves,andforwhat?
Agroanofreleaseechoedfromthenearbydivan.TheheadthathadbeenbetweenMrs.Isbill’sthighswasnowinthelapofMr.Isbill.Gods,Ireallyhopedthismanendedupwellrewardedforallhis…hardworkthisevening.
Sighing,Iturnedmyheadtoanearbyglasswallthatoverlookedtheyardsofthemanorandthegardens.
I’dratherbeoutthere.
Thespacebetweenmyshoulderbladesbegantotingle.
Ineededtobeoutthere.
IwasmovingbeforeIrealizedwhatIwasdoing,musclestensingtostand,whenamanwearingdove-graypantssuddenlyfilledmyview,hislinenshirtleftunbuttoned.Leaningbackagainstthethickcushionsofthecouch,Ilookeduptoseeawhitemaskshieldingallbutthelowerhalfofhisface.
“Youlooklikeyou’reinneedofcompany,”themanannounced.
“I’mnot.”
“Yousureaboutthat?”Hesteppedforward,movingtowheremylegstookuptheremaininglengthofthecouch.
Ididnothingtohidemysigh.Thismanwasn’tthefirsttomakeitpastNaomi,whowasdoingherlevelbesttolurewould-bepursuersaway.Iwasbeginningtofeelasifthesolariumwereahenhousefulloffoxes.“I’mpositive.”
“Icanchangeyourmind,”hesaidwithalltheconfidencetypicalofamanwhowasusedtoturningnosintoyeses.Mysensesopened,reachingouttohim.Orwiththeconfidenceofamanwhowasusedtoforcingnosintoyeses.“Youwon’tregretit.”
KnowingIshouldjustignoretheman,IinsteadsmiledupathimanddidexactlywhatIshouldn’t.
Becauseapparently,Iwasintheseasonofmakingbadlifechoices.
Iextendedmyhand.Hedidn’thesitate,takingit.Themomentmyskinconnectedwithhis,Ifelthisvoiceinmymind,asclearasifhewerespeaking,butitwasmyvoicethatwhispered,tellingmethingsunknowntillthatverymoment.Hisname.Howhemadehisliving.Hiswife,whowasnothere.Isawwhathewanted—hisintentions.Hewantedtogetoff.Shocker.Buttherewasmoretothat,somethingthatbroughtonabitterbiteofdisgust.
Ituggedonhisarm,guidinghimsowewereateyelevel,andthenleanedin.“Ihavenointerestinchokingonyourcocktonight,”Iwhispered,mymouthinchesfromhis.“Oranynight,Gregory.”
Hisjawwentslackwithsurprise.Hewenttojerkhishandfree,butIheldon,lettinghimwatchmysmilegrow—watchingtheblooddrainfromtheskinbeneathhismask.Ireleasedhim.Eyeswide,hebackedawayfrommeandturnedwithoutsayinganotherword.Laughingundermybreath,IwipedthehandhehadtouchedonthecushionasIoncemorespottedNaomimovingaboutthecrowd,herlonglegsandarmsshimmeringfromadustingofgoldbodypaint.ShehadlingeredclosetomemostoftheeveningbeforeIshooedheroff.Whileherwatchfulnesswaskindofher,itwasn’t…itwasn’tright.
Iwasn’therresponsibility.
Butshewascomingstraightforme.
“Scootover,”sheinstructed,leaningovermylegs.
Ikepttheglassofwinesteady,watchingNaomiasIgrinned.ItwasclearNaomiwasuptosomethingassheallbutprowledupthelengthofmybody.Theseductive,fluidmovementsofherbodywereabitexaggerated.Iknewsheknewittoo,becauseoneeyewinked.Sheworenomask.NoneofClaude’sparamoursfelttheneedtohidetheirfaces.
“Ithoughtyoumightwantcompany.”Shestretchedoutbehindme,proppingherelbowonthearmofthecouch.Shedippedherheadclosetomine.“Keepthosespecialhandsofyourstoyourself,”sheremindedme.
“Iwill,”Ipromised,knowingthathercomingtomeaboutLaurelinwasatypicalofher.ShepreferredthatIremainunseeingtoherfutureandtoherthoughts.Sometimesthatwasimpossible,though,evenwithouttouchingher.Ijustdidn’tletherknowwhenthataccidentallyhappened.“YouknowIdon’tneedthecompany,right?”
“Oh,butyoumostdefinitelydo.”HerhandcurvedaroundmyhipandsqueezedgentlyassheflickedhergazetowardClaude.“Thelongeryou’realone,themoreinterestingyoubecometothosearoundyou.”
Myjawclenched.“Youshouldbeenjoyingyourself.”
“Iam.”
“Sure.”Ishiveredastheedgesofherhairfellovermyarm.“Youmustbethrilledtobelyingbehindme.”
“Iam.”
“Naomi—”
“Comenow,youknowIliketoplaywithyou.”SheslidherhanddownmyhipasIrolledmyeyes.Hernailsslippedovertheslitinthegown,skatingoverthebareskinofmythigh.“Youknowdamnwellmymotivesaren’tpurelyaltruistic.”
Ididknowheractionsweren’tsolelyoutofthegoodnessofherheart.Naomilikedtoplay,whenitwasonlyherdoingthetouchingandcaressing.Andbecausesheknewthat,nomatterwhat,Iwouldn’tforgetwhatsheaskedofmeandtouchher,shehadcompletecontrol.Apartofhergotoffonthat.
Apartofmedidtoo.
ButIstillcouldn’thelpbutfeelabitguiltyand…IglancedatGrady.AndlikeaweightaroundthenecksofthoseIcaredfor.
“I’mannoyed,though.”
Ireturnedmyattentiontoher,offeringmyglassofwine.“Withwhat?”
“ThatGradyishere,”shesaid,takingtheglassandfinishingitoffbeforeplacingitonthesmallendtablebythecouch.“WhichmeansunlessIwanttoseehimpassoutfromthehorrorofseeingyoucome,Iwon’tgettoreallyplay.”
Astrangledlaughleftme.“Heabsolutelywouldpassout.”
“He’ssuchabore.”Herchindippedandshepressedakisstothecurveofmyshoulder.
“He’sreallynot.”Mygazesweptoverthechamber—overthosetalking,drinking,andeating,andthosewhowereusingtheirhandsandmouthsforotherthings.“Iwouldbeequallyhorrifiedtoseehiminthethroesoflust.”
“Iknow.I’mjustbeingpettybecauseImustbehavemyself.”Pouting,sheranherfingersbackovermystomach.“Butincaseyouarecuriousaboutwhathe’slikeinthethroesoflust,allyouneedtodoisaskme—”
“Pleasestop.”Mynosewrinkled.“BecauseIreallydon’twanttoeverknowwhatthatlookslike.”
“YoubothareasboringasLaurelin.”Naomi’slaughfaded.
Myheartached.“Howisyoursister?”
“Alittlebetter.”
IcouldtellherthetruthaboutwhatlayinstoreforLaurelinpastthefever,butIdidn’twantNaomi’sreliefatLaurelin’simprovementtobetakenfromher.AndIwasalsoselfish.Ididn’twanttobetheonetotakethatrelieffromher.“I’msorry.Idon’tknowifIsaidthatbefore,butI’msorryforwhatshe’sgoingthrough—whatyou’regoingthrough.”
“Thankyou.”
Inodded,stayingsilentwhileNaomilikelyquietedthosethoughtsandemotionssurroundinghersister.Mygazesweptoverthechamber,landingonClaude.Allysonwasstillinhislap,thosearoundhimcontinuedtolaughandchat,buthewassilent,hisexpressionpinchedashestaredatsomethingonlyhecouldsee.
“Ithinksomething’sgoingonwithhim,”Naomisaidquietly,havingfollowedmygaze.“Claude.”
“Really?”Whenshenodded,Iasked,“Whydoyouthinksomething’sgoingon?”
Hernailsscrapedoverthethinmaterialofthebodice,causingmybacktoarch.“I’mnotsure.”Sheloweredherhead,restingherchinonmyshoulder.“Buthe’sbeenactingoff—nervousandmoroseonemomentandthenoverlyjoyful—andhe’sbeendrinkingalotmoreoflate.”
“ThatI’venoticed.”Ithoughtofhisquestionthisearlyafternoon.“Youheardaboutwhathappenedinthecitylastnight?”
“Yes.Terriblenews.”Sheshuddered.“Buthe’sbeenactingdifferentlyforweeks.”
“Thisisrecenttoo,buttherewasnews—”Mybreathcaughtasshetoyedwiththepeakofmybreast.Myownfingerspressedintothecushionofthecouchinfrontofme.“Youhaveaveryskewedviewofbehavingyourself.”
“Ido?”Shewinkedatme.“Youweresaying?”
Ishookmyheadather.“IwassayingtherehasbeennewsconcerningtheWestlands.”
“What?”sheasked,andasItoldherwhatRamseyhadsaid,sheslidherhandfrommynowfartoosensitivebreast.“Whatintheworldcouldbecausingthis?WhywouldaprincessturnagainsttheKing?”
“Idon’tknow,”Imurmured.Ihadn’tpaidmuchattentiontoHyhbornpolitics.Mostofuslowborndidn’t,sinceitrarelyimpactedus,butthat…thatwaschanging,wasn’tit?
“KingEuroshastodosomethingaboutit,”Naomimused.“Don’tyouthink?”
“TheIronKnightsaresuspectedofbeingresponsiblefortheraidsalongtheborder,right?Andifthatistrue,thatmeanstheyaredoingsoontheordersofthePrincessofVisalia,buttheKinghasn’tdoneanythingabouttheraids,so…”
“True.”Shepaused.“He’sabastard.”
Myshouldersshookwithlaugher.“I’mprettysureallofthosewhoareinpowerarebastards.”
Naomigrinnedasherhandskatedovermythigh.
MygazeflickedtotheBaron.HewasfocusedoncemoreonAllyson.WasheatallworriedabouttheraidsencroachingfartherintotheMidlands?OrhowclosetoutterdevastationArchwoodhadcome?
“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”Naomiasked,andIgavealittlejumpasherhandmadeitswaytotheopeninginthepanels.“Youlookentirelytooseriousforsomeoneinthemidstofanorgy.”
Ilaughed,butworrygnawedatme,ifnotClaude.IglancedatNaomi.“Whydoyoustayhere?”
Shewentstillbehindmeforjusthalfasecond.“Whynot?”
Sighing,Ilookedawayfromher.
“What?”ShenippedatmythroatwhenIdidn’tanswer,causingmetogaspatthedualstrokeofpainandsomethingentirelydifferent.“What?”
Ishotheranarrowedglareovermyshoulder.“Ouch.”
“Youlikedit,”sheretortedwithasaucygrin.“Whatwasthatsighfor?”
“Itwasforthehandonmythigh,”Ireplied.
“Asifthatweretrue.Younevermakeasoundwhenitcomestothat,notevenwhenIdothatthingwithmyfingersthatIknowyoulike,becauseeveryonelikesit.”
Iknewexactlywhatshewastalkingabout.“Ijust…Ijustdon’tgetwhyyoustayhere,”Isaidfinally,tuckingmyfootbetweenhersasherarmslippeddeeperbetweenthepanelsofgown.
“DoyouthinkI’mnothappy?”
“Areyou?”
Naomididn’tanswerrightaway,insteadcontentingherselfwithdrawingherfingersovermynavelandlower.Shemadenocommentwhennoundergarmentsmetheradventurousfingers,knowingthatMavenhaddressedme.“IstaybecauseIwantto.BecauseIamhappyhere.”
ItwasnowIwhowentquiet.
“Youdon’tbelieveme,doyou?”
Itippedmyheadintothecrookofhershoulder.“Ihopeyouspeakthetruth.”
“Youshould.”Shelookeddownatme,browneyesserious.“Look,I’veheardyousayitbefore.Archwoodislikeanyothercityinanyotherterritory,butit’sprettyhere.Theairiscleanandnotcloggedwithsmokelikethetownsnearthemines.IhavearoofovermyheadandasmuchfoodasIcaneat,andIdon’thavetobreakmybackforthat.”
“Yousureyouaren’tbreakingyourback?”Iquipped.
Naomi’sstareturneddroll,andIgiggled.“It’snotmybackIbreak,”shesaid,andanothersmalllaughleftme.“Anyway,asIwassaying,Idon’thavetoworkmyselftodeathintheminesorcleaningupafterothers.NordoIhavetomarrytofeelsecure.IchoosewhatIdowithmydaysandwithwhom.Besides,Ilikefuckingandbeingfucked,”shetoldme,handslippingbetweenmythighs.
“Neverwould’veguessedthat,”Istated.
Naomi’slaughtuggedatmylips,andmyowncrawledupmythroat.Thatwasthethingaboutherlaughs.Theywereinfectious.
“I’mnotlikemysister,youknow?Ineverwantedtobemarriedandbeusedasnothingmorethanabroodmare,”shesaid,thecornersofhermouthtensing.“That’swhythislifewithClaudeisperfectforme.Therearenoexpectations.Noboundaries.IlikewhatIam.”Hergazebrieflymetmine.“Iwishyoucouldlikewhatyouare.”
Mybreathcaught.“Ido,”Iwhispered.
“AndIwanttobelievethat.”Naomikissedmyshoulder.Amomentpassed;thenshechangedthesubject.“Iheardarumor.”
“About?”
“Thefires,”shesaid.“ThattheHyhbornwereinvolvedinit.”“Oh?”Ididn’ttellherwhatIknew.NotbecauseIdidn’ttrusther.Obviously,Idid.Ijust…Ididn’twanthertoworry.ShealreadyhadenoughonhermindwithLaurelin.
“IwishIhadseentheHyhborn—nottheburningofthebuildingspart,”sheamended,andIsnorted.“It’stoofewandfarbetweenthatwegettogazeupontheirmagnificence.”
IknewNaomiwasbeingsilly,buthisfeaturesweretooeasytoconjureforth—thecurveofhisjaw,theslantofhisteasingmouth,andthosestunningeyes
“Lis?”Naomiwhispered,herlipsatthecurveofmycheek.
Ifixedmystaretothestonefloorinfrontofthecouch.Aflutterstartedinmychest,joiningtheonemuch,muchlowerashertouchelicitedafine,tightshiver.“Yes?”
“Iaskedifyouwantedmetogetyousomethingtodrink.”Herfingersdancedovermylowerstomach,inchingtheirwaybelowmynavel.
“I’m—”Mywordsendedinagasp.MygazeflewtoNaomi’sandnarrowed.
“What?”shesaidinnocently.“Didmyfingersgrowtooclosetoaverysensitivepartofyou?”
“Possibly.”
Hergrinwaspuredevilishwickedness.“IdohopeyoupartakeintheFeaststhisyear.”
Iraisedabrow.“Ithinktheonlyreasonyou’relookingforwardtotheFeastsissoyoucanwrapaHyhbornaroundyourfinger.”
“Whatelsewouldlookbetteraroundmyfinger?”Thetipsofherfingersmadetheirwaydownmylowerstomachoncemore,stoppingamereinch,ifthat,abovethejunctionofmythighs.“Besidesyou?”
Ilaughed.
Hereyesglittered.“DidItellyouthatHyhbornare…magnificentlyendowed?”
Shewasspeakingonlythetruth.“Canwestopsaying‘magnificent’?”
“Never.”Herlipscurvedinafaintsmileasherfingerssweptbackandforth,almost—almostbrushingagainstthetoo-sensitivebudofflesh.“We’rebeingwatched,bytheway.”
“There’snotasinglepartofmesurprisedtohearthat,”Imuttered,butIlookedtoseethemanwho’dbeenwiththeIsbillswatching,aswasawomanacrosstheway.Theyweren’ttheonlyoneseyeingus.LuckilyGradywasn’t.EspeciallysinceNaomi’shandwasontheprowlagain.“Andyoustillhaveaverystrangeunderstandingofbehavingyourself,”Isaid.
Naomiignoredthat.“It’shardwhenIknowthere’sanaudience.I’vealwaysfounditalittleunnerving.”Herfingersbegantomoveagaininslow,teasingcircles.“Andalittlearousing.”
“There’ssomethingwrongwithyou,”Istated.
“Please,asifIdon’tknowthatyoutooliketobewatched.”
Myhipsshiftedrestlessly.“That’sbesidethepoint.”
“Tellmesomething.”Naomi’slipscurledagainstmycheek.“Exactlyhowwetareyourightnow?”
Myfaceheating,myeyesnarrowedonher.
“IfIwasn’tbehavingmyselfoutofrespectforourpoorGrady’semotionalandmentalwell-being,IbetI’ddiscoverthatyouare.”Hernosetouchedmineasshewhispered,“Don’teventrytolie,becausethewayyourhipskeepsquirmingwilltellaverydifferentstory.”
“It’stellingthestoryyourfingersarewriting.”
Shemadeathroatysoundinthespacebetweenmylips.“Oh,Ibetmyteasinggotyouniceandwarm,”shesaid.Hergazeturnedshrewd.“ButI’malsowillingtobetthefactthatyourthinkingofmagnificentlyendowedHyhbornhasgotyousoaked.”
Musclestightenedasmytoescurled,butshewaswrong.Andshewasright.WhileNaomiwastechnicallybehavingherself,Idid…Ididache,butitwasn’tjustme.Icouldfeelthequickeninginherbreath.Ifeltherrestlessmovementsagainstmythigh.Itwaspartlyhertouch,andshewasalsoright.IwasthinkingofmagnificentlyendowedHyhborn,exceptIwasthinkingofhim.
MyHyhbornlord.CHAPTER9
KnowingthatNaomiwouldn’tenjoyhereveningwhenshefeltshehadtoruninterference,ItoldherIwasgoingtocallitanight.Inallhonesty,Ishouldbetired,consideringwhatlittlesleepI’dgottenthenightbefore,butanervoussortofenergycoursedthroughmeevenafterIchangedintoaslipperysoftnightgown,leavingmerestlessandamped-up.
IwasgoingtoblameNaomiandherideaofbehavingherselfforthat.
AsIlaydownonthebed,mymindwasabsolutelynohelp,decidingtoalternatebetweenthememoryofthesoft,teasingtouchesofNaomi’sandthe…thefeelofmylord’shard,slickskin.
Skinflushed,Irolledontomyside,pressingmythighstogether.Asharppulseechoedthroughoutme.IbitdownonmylipasItrailedmyhandovermychest.ThebreathItookwasshaky.Hisvoicewassocleartome,asifhewerebesideme,whisperinginmyear.Myfingersspread,grazingahardenednipplethroughthecottonnightgown.Excepttheyweren’tmyfingers.TheywereNaomi’s.Theywerehis.
Heatsluicedthroughmyveins,reignitingtheachedeepinsideme.Isuckedinagaspasmynailsdraggedoverthepeakofmybreast.Imovedrestlessly,hipsrocking.Thetipsofmybreastshadneverbeenallthatsensitive,buttheytingledthen,becomingalmostpainfulasdampheatgatheredlow,betweenmythighs.MypulsethrummedasIshiftedontomyback,closingmyeyesasIslippedmyhanddownovermystomachandlower,drawingthenightgownupasIwent.Coolairkissedtheheatedspacebetweenmylegs,wringingasoftgaspfromme.Ijerkedasmyfingerstouchedthebareskinofmyupperthighs,burningme—burningthroughme,becauseitwastheirtouchIconjuredup.
Ispreadmythighs,mybreathscominginshort,shallowpantsasmyfingersgrazedthesensitive,tautflesh.Ijerkedagain,toescurlingasIdippedmyfingerslower.Pressingmyheadback,ImoanedasIliftedmyhips.IteasedjustasIknewNaomiwouldhave,justasIimaginedmylordwouldifIhadstayedinthatshower.Itwasn’tmyfingersthatplungedthroughmyslipperywetnessorcurledaroundmybreast.ItwasNaomi’sandthenhis,workingmeuntilIwasthrustingup.Iarched,wantingmore.Needingmore.
Touchme.
Thememoryofhisvoicetumbledmeovertheedge,intoecstasy,andIwassweptawaybythetensebuttoo-shortwavesofpleasure.Iwasleftpantingand…andstillaching.
Stillunfulfilled.
Becauseithadn’tbeenNaomi’stouch.Ithadn’tbeenhis.Ithadonlybeenmyownfingers.
Idraggedinadeepbreath,andmyeyesflewopenasIcaughtafaintwoodsy,softscent.
Hisscent.
Iturnedmyheadtothesetteeacrossfromthebed,whereIhadleftthecloakhehadgivenme.Ishoulddosomethingwithit.Donateit.Trashit.Maybeburnit.
Isighed,mygazeflickingtotheceiling,andthenIsatup,goingtothebathingchamber.Isplashedcoolwaterovermyface,therestlessnessstillthere,the—
Theurgereturned,theonefromthesolarium.
Thewant.
Theneedtobeoutthere.
Ipaddedbarefoottothewindowandlookedout.Immediately,Ispiedthefloating,glowingballsoflightthatappearedinthenightskysomewherebetweentheendofspringandthebeginningofsummer,intheweeksbeforetheFeasts,andthendisappearedshortlyafter.
Asmileracedacrossmyfaceatthesightofthem.Ipushedawayfromthewindowandslippedmyfeetintoapairofthin-soledshoes.Grabbingamidnight-blue,short-sleevedrobefromthebathingchamber,IslippeditonandbelteditatmywaistasIglancedattheluneadaggeronthenightstand,remindingmyselftoaskGradyifhehadanextrasheathforit.
Leavingthroughtheterracedoors,Icrossedthebacklawn,avoidingthepartygoersasImademywaytothenarrowfootbridgethatcrossedthesmallstreamandenteredthegardens.IfollowedthewindingpathoftheBaron’sgardens,focusedonthebrightspheresdriftingdownfromhighabovelikestarstofloatamongthesweepingloblollypine.Themagicallightscastasoftglowastheyfilledthesky.They’dalwaysfascinatedme,evenasachild.Icouldn’trememberifthePrioresshadevertoldmewhytheyappearedwhentheydid.I’daskedClaudeonce,buthe’dshruggedandsaidtheywerejustapartoftheHyhborn.
Thatreallyhadn’ttoldmeanything.
Mystepsslowedasoneofthespheres,aboutthesizeofmyhand,floateddownfromthetreestohoverafewfeetinfrontofme,surprisingme.I’dneverbeenthisclosetoone,notevenbeforeIcametoArchwood.Itookahesitantstepforward,halfafraidtheorbwouldflutterawayordisappear.
Itdidn’t.
Theballoflightremainedcloseenoughformetoseethatitwasn’tjustonecentrallight.Myeyeswidened.Itwasactuallyaseriesoftinylightsclusteredtogether.Theorbpulsed,thendriftedaway,slowlyreturningtothetreesabove.Iwatchedthelightsdipandriseasiftheywerejoinedinadancebeforetheyflutteredbackintothetrees.
Toyingwiththeedgeofmybraid,Istartedwalkingagain,trailingafterthelightsasnightbirdssangfromthetrees.Thepeaceofthegardenscalmedmymind.IwonderedifClaudewouldbeagainstmesettingupa…ahammockouthere?IdoubtedIwouldhaveanyproblems—
Stop.
Ijerkedtoasuddenhalt.Browsknitting,Islowlyturnedandfacedanarchwaytomyright.Myfingerstwitchedasanacutesenseofawarenesswashedoverme,pressingbetweenmyshoulderblades.
Intuitionhadsparked.Ithaddonesowelloveranhourago,Irealized.Therehadbeenthaturgetoleavethesolariumandenterthegardens.
“Youhavegottobekiddingme,”Imuttered,staringintothedarkenedpathway.
Iheldmyselfstill,myheartkickingunsteadilyinmychest.Onlythegodsknewwhatmyintuitionwantedtoleadmetowardtonight.Ididn’tevenwanttoknow.Myfingersgaveaspasm,musclestremblingasIfoughtthepullofintuition
“Damnit.”Iblewoutanaggravatedbreathandcrossedunderthearchway.
Verylittlemoonlightpiercedthelargewisteriatreesandtheirheavyvines,andonlyafewglowingspheresglidedhighupinthetrees,theirsoftglowilluminatingthepalebluetrailingstems.Brushingasidethelow-hanginglimbs,Icontinuedalongthepath,travelingdeepwithinthewisteriatrees.
ThenIfeltit,asuddenchangetotheair.Ithadcooled,buttherewasathicknesstoit.Aheaviness.Power.I’dfeltthisbefore—
“LikeIjustsaid,Ihavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout.”Amanwasspeakingupahead.Therewasa…acadencetohisspeech,wherecertainlettersweretrilled,thatwasuncommontotheMidlandsregion,buthisvoicealsodidsomethingtome.Itfeltlikethistleweedsagainstmyskin,anditopenedthatdoorinmymind.
Isawred.
Drippingagainststone.
Splatteringpaleblossoms.
Blood.
Ihalted,breathcatching.
Isawnothingofthosewhospokebeneaththeshadowsofthewisteriatrees,butIknewsomethingbloodywasabouttohappen.
WhichmeantIshouldbehightailingmyassoutofthere.ThelastthingIneededwastogetcaughtupinwhateverdramawasabouttogodown.Whateverthiswas,especiallyafterlastnight,itwasn’tmybusiness.
ButIsawblood.
Someonewasgoingtobehurt.
MyfingerscurledaroundastreamofblossomsasIdraggedmyteethovermylowerlip.Ishould’vejuststayedinthesolariumanddrunkhalfmyweightinliquortonight.Thesight,thevoices,theknowingwould’vebeensilencedforalittlewhile.Iwouldn’tbestandinghere,onthevergeofdoingsomethingveryill-advised—andmygods,justlastnightaccountedforayear’sworthoffoolishness.
Iorderedmyselftoturnaround,butthatwasn’twhatIwasdoing.
Inchingforward,Igrittedmyteeth.Therewasnothingwrongwithnotwantingtogetinvolved,Itoldmyself.Itdidn’tmakemeabadperson.I’dprovedthatlastnight.Besides,whatwasIgoingtodotostopwhateverwasabouttohappen?Gradyhadtaughtmehowtothrowaprettymeanrighthook,butIdidn’tthinkthatwasgoingtobeofmuchhelp.
“AndIdon’tliketheaccusationsyou’remakingeither,”themancontinued.“Norwillhe,andyoushouldbeconcernedbythat.You’renotuntouchable,despitewhatyouthink.”
Knockingawisteriavineaside,Iplowedforward—
Adrylyamusedchuckleanswered,causingtinygoosebumpstobreakoutalongmybarearms.Thatsound…
Myeyeswentwideasmyfootimmediatelysnaggedonanexposedroot.“Fuck,”Igasped,stumbling.Iplantedahandontheroughbarkofanearbytree,catchingmyselfbeforeIplantedmyfaceintotheground.
Silence.
UttercompletesilencesurroundedmeasIslowlyliftedmyhead,faceburning.Istartedtospeak—tosaywhat,Ihadnoidea,becauseeverysinglethoughtfledmymindasIsawtwomenstandingbeneaththosedamnspheresoflightthatseemedtohaveappearedoutofnowheretobearwitnesstomyabsolutefuckery.Theybothhadturnedtowardme,andIzeroedinontheonemysenseswarnedagainst.
Hewasblondandpale-skinned.Tallandattractive,hisfeaturessoperfectlycraftedthatonewouldbelievethey’dbeencarvedbythegodsthemselves,andIknewwhatthatmeantbeforeIsawwhatwasstrappedtohiship.Mybloodimmediatelywentcoldatthesightofthedull,milkywhiteofaluneablade.
Ididn’tknowwhatshockedmemore—thatmyintuitionhadactuallyworkedwithsomethingthatinvolvedHyhbornorthatithadledmeto…tohim.
Fingerstangledinthevines,Icouldfeelmyheartpumpingicyshockthroughmyveinsasmygazeshottotheotherman,andIknew.IknewthemomentIheardthesoft,smokychuckle.
Airleakedoutofmylungs.Hewasstandingmostlyintheshadowsandwearingallblack.Hewould’veblendedintothemifnotfortheglimpsesofsandy-huedskin.IthoughtImight’veforgottenhowtobreatheashesteppedmorefullyintothesoftlightoftheorbs.Iwassurethegroundrolledbeneathmyfeet.
Itwashim.
MyHyhbornlord.
Thehard,carvedlineofhisjawtiltedashiswide,lushlipscurvedintoahalfgrin.“Thisisbecomingahabit.”
“Whatis?”Iheardmyselfwhisper.
Hisfeaturesfellbackintotheshadows.“Meetinglikethis.”
“Whointhefuckisthis?”theotherHyhborndemanded,jerkingmyattentionbacktohim.
“I’mn-noone.I…Ijustwasfollowingthelittleballsoflight—Iliketheballs…oflight,”Iblurtedout,andmyentirebraincringed.Iliketheballs?Gods.Untanglingmyfingersfromthewisteria,Istartedtotakeastepback.“Sorry,pleasejustforgetthatIwashere—thatIevenexist.”
AsliceofmoonlightcutacrossthelowerhalfofmyHyhborn’sface—andgods,hewasn’tmine.Hisgrinhaddeepened.“Onemoment,please.”
The“please”stoppedme.
BecauseaHyhbornlord,evenhim,sayingthat?Tome?Alow-born?Thatwas…thatwasunheardof.Hehadn’tevensaidthatlastnight,whenheaskedformyhelp.
Theneverythinghappenedsofast.
TheotherHyhborncursed,dartingbackwardashewithdrewtheluneadagger,buttheotherlordwasfaster.HecaughttheHyhbornbythewristandtwisted.Thecrackofbonewaslikethunder.Ismackedmyhandovermymouth,silencingascream.
TheHyhbornhissedinpainasthebladefelltotheground.“Youdothis”—hislipspeeledback—“you’llregretit.Withyourverylastbreath,youwill.”
“No,Nathaniel,”theLordreplied,andhesoundedbored.LikeGradydidwheneverIstartedtotalkaboutthedifferenttypesofdaisies.“Iwillnot.”
IcaughtonlyaglimpseoftheLord’sfist.JustasecondbeforeitslammedagainsttheHyhborn’schest—intohischest.
TheonecalledNathanielthrewhisheadback,hisbodyjerkingasmyhandfellfrommymouth.
“Justonemoremoment,”theLordsaid,rathercasually.
GoldenfireeruptedfromNathaniel’schest—orfromtheLord’shand,whichwasstillplungeddeepinsidesaidchest.ThefirespreadoverNathanielinarippling,violentwaveofvibrantgoldflames,andIsuddenlyknewexactlyhowtheblacksmith’sandtheTwinBarrelshadbeenincinerated.Withinafewheartbeats,allthatremainedofNathanielwas…wasapileofashandafewstripsofcharredclothingbesidethefallenluneablade.
“Holyshit,”Iwhispered,horrified…andalittleawedbythedisplayofpower,butmostlyhorrifiedasIliftedmygaze.BehindwhereNathanielhadstood,thepaleblossomsweresplatteredwithblood,justasI’dseen.
IliftedmystaretotheLord,who…whocouldbarelywalkonhisownlastnight,whomIhadjustfantasizedaboutwhilepleasuringmyself,andhe’d..
Andhe’dincineratedanotherwithhishand.
Ifhecoulddothattooneofhisown,whatinthewholewiderealmofnopecouldhedotoalowborn?
Itookashakystepback,remindedoncemoreofexactlywhatthislordwas.Somehow,I’dforgottenthat.
“Na’laa,”theLordcalledsoftly.
Myentirebodyjolted.
Astrandofhairslippedforwardandfellagainsthisjawashebent,wipinghishandononeofthepiecesofburntclothing.“Youshouldcomecloser.”
Iinchedbackanotherstep.“Idon’tknowaboutthat.”
“Areyoufinallyafraidofme?”theLordasked,pickingupthefallenluneablade.
Iwasn’tsure,butIknewIshouldbe.Ishouldbeterrified.
Hisheadcutinmydirection.“Don’tmoveanyfurther—”
Imovedseveralmorefeet.Somehowthefirehe’dcreatedwasmoreunnervingthanseeinghimtearoutWeber’swindpipe.Iwasn’tevensurewhy,but—
Somethingsnaggedmybraid,jerkingmeback.Icriedoutaspainradiateddownmyneckandspine.MyfeetslippedoutfromunderneathmeasIwasspun.Ahandclampeddownonmythroat.Draggedbackagainstawallofachest,Igrippedthehanduponmythroat,andIheardabsolutelynothingasIsawthetallHyhbornlordthroughtheswayingwisteriavines.
“Muriel,”theLorddrawled,andshockrolledthroughme.Iknewthatname.FinnandMickiehadspokenit.“I’vespentalldaylookingforyou.”
“Don’tcomeanycloser,”theoneholdingmewarnedasIclawedathishand,breakingmynailsonthehardfleshofanotherHyhborn.
TheHyhbornlordprowledforwardslowly,thetrailingvinesliftingandswingingoutofhiswaybeforehisbodyevencameintocontactwiththem.“CorrectmeifI’mwrong,”theLordsaid,ignoringMuriel.“Butdidn’tItellyounottomove?”
“I—”
“Stop,”Murielgrowled,cuttingmeoff.Hisgriponmythroattightened.Panicthreatenedtoseizeme.“OrIwillsnapherfuckingneck.”
“Thatneckisaprettyone,”theHyhbornlordresponded.“Butwhy,Muriel,wouldyouthinkI’dcareifyoudidsnapit?”
“Bastard,”IhissedbeforeIcouldstopmyself,disbeliefhavingloosenedmytongue.
TheLordcockedhishead.“Thatwasn’tveryniceofyou.”
Igapedathim.I’dhelpedhimlastnight.Gothimtosafety.Riskedmyownlife,andhedidn’tcareifmyneckwassnapped.“Youjustsaid—”
Murieldughisfingersintomythroat,endingmywordsinastrangledgasp.“WhatdidyoudotoNathaniel?”hedemanded.
“Puthiminatime-out.”Anotherstreamofblossomsflutteredoutofhispath.“Permanently.”
Murielinchedusback,forcingmeontothetipsofmytoes.“Whyinthehellwouldyoudothat?”
“Youknowbetterthantoaskthatquestion,butsinceI’mfeelinggeneroustonight,I’llexplainittoyou.Besidesthefacthewasboringme,”theLordanswered,“hesetmeup.Sodidyou.”
MurielhaltedasIstrainedagainsthishold.“Yeah,Idoknowbetter.”Hecursedagain.“Ishould’veknownbetterthantotrustlowborntogetthejobdone.”
“Youshouldhave.”TheLordpaused.“AndyoushouldstopstrugglingwhileMurielandIhaveourlittlechat.Ifnot,you’reonlygoingtoharmyourself.”
Stopstruggling?WhileMurielcrushedmywindpipe?
“Andyoushouldbemoreworriedaboutyourownneck,”Murielspat.
“Yourconcernformewarmsmyheart.”
“Yeah,Icanseethat.”MurielyankedmeharshlytothesideasIstruggledtobreakfree.Nothingworked.Hisholdremainedfirm.“Youknow,youbroughtthisontoyourself.”
“AndhowdidIdothat?”
“Playcoyallyouwant.Itwon’tworkformuchlonger,”Murielsnarled.“There’sonlyonereasonwhyyouwerewillingtoriskyourasstogetthatinformationfromus.”
“Speakingofthatinformation,”theLordreplied.“Wasanyofittrue?”
“Fuckyou,”spatMuriel.
TheLordsighed.
“HowdoyouthinktheKing’sgoingtorespondwhenhelearnsofwhatyouwerelookingfor?”Murielshotback.Itrulyhadnoideawhattheywerespeakingof.“TheKing’sgoingtohaveyourhead.”
“Doubtful.”TheLordchuckledagain,andthesoundraisedthehairsonthenapeofmyneck.“I’moneoftheKing’sfavorites,incaseyou’veforgotten.”
“Notaftertonight,”Murielpromised.“Notwhenhelearnsthetruth.”
Thetruthofwhat?
TheLordhadstoppedcomingcloser.Henowstoodafewfeetfromus.“I’mcurious,Muriel,astowhyyouactuallybelievetheKingwouldhearofanythingthathasoccurredthisnight?Orevenlastnight?”
Murielstiffenedbehindme,seemingtosensethenot-so-veiledthreatintheLord’swords.Astutteredheartbeatpassed.“I’mleaving.”
“Okay?”TheLordcockedhishead.
“Imeanit,”Murielsaid,andIthoughtIheardatremorinhiswords.“Youcomeafterme,I’llripherheartout.”
“DoesitlooklikeI’mtryingtostopyoufromleaving?”theLordasked.
Itdidn’t.
Itreallydidn’t.
Ididn’tknowwhyIexpectedanythingdifferentfromtheLord.EvenmyHyhbornlord.He’dneededmyaidlastnight.Heclearlydidn’tneedittonight.Iwasafool,becauseafeelingof…ofbetrayalsettledindeep,whichevenIcouldadmitmadenosense.JustbecauseIhadhelpedhimlastnightdidn’tmeanhewasobligatedtome.
Gods,IreallywishedIhadn’tthoughtofhimwhenItouchedmyself.
MyheartsankasMurielmovedusbackthroughthewisteriavines.Thefragrantlimbsfellinplace,formingacurtainthatquicklyobscuredtheLord.Murielwasdraggingmefartherintothetrees—awayfromthemanor,andthatwasbad,becauseIseriouslydoubtedthisHyhbornwouldletmegooncehewasclearoftheLord.
Panicexploded.Istruggledwildly,kickingatMuriel’slegsasIbeatonhisarm.EachblowIlandedsentarippleofpainupmyarmandleg.Igagged,eyeswideningashespunusaround.Iflailedagainsthishold,throwingmyweightineverydirection.
AgutturalsoundofwarningechoedfromMurielasheliftedmeoffmyfeet.“KeepitupandI’ll—Fuck.”
Somethinglargeanddarkcrashedintous,knockingMurielbackseveralfeet.Heslammedintoatree,theimpactshakinghimfirst,thenme.Hegrunted,hisgripremainingasmylegsstartedtocave.
Ablurofmovementwhippedtheloosehairsaroundmyface.IsawaglimpseofahandcomingdownonMuriel’sarm,thenaflashofthemilky-whiteluneablade.Thepressureliftedfrommyneck,buttherewasnotimetofeelanyrelief,toevencatchmybreath.Anotherhandclampeddownonmyarm.Iwasflungsideways—thrown.Foramoment,Iwasweightlessamongthesweetlyscentedblossoms.Therewasnoupordown,skyorground,andinthoseseconds,Irealizeditwasover.Therunning.Theloneliness.Itwasallover.TheBaronwasgoingtobesosadwhenhefoundmybrokenbody.
Ihitthegroundhard,rattlingeveryboneinmybodyasmyheadsnappedback.Stunning,brutalpainwhippedthroughme.
Thentherewasnothing.CHAPTER10
Outofthefogofnothingness,Ifelt…Ifeltfingersdriftingalongthesidesofmyneckandunderthethicktwistofmybraid,alongthebackofmyskull.Thetouchwasfeatherlight,butwarm—almosthot,movinginsoothing,barelytherecircles.Ifeltthetouchofsomethingsofteragainstmybrow.
“Isshegoingtomakeit?”amanasked.
Ididn’trecognizethevoice,butIthoughthishadthesameinflectionofspeechoftheotherHyhborn’s.Icouldn’tbesure,becauseIslippedintothenothingnessagain,andIdidn’tknowhowlongIstayedthere.ItfeltlikeasmalleternitybeforeIbecameawareofthatfeatherlighttouchalongmyarm—athumbmovinginthesameslow,gentlecirclesjustabovemyelbow.Thetouchwasn’thotthistime,justcomfortingand…anddisarming,stirringupapricklysenseofawarenessIcouldn’tmakesenseof.Iwastoowarmandcomfortabletoeventry.Iheardthatsamevoiceagain,soundingasifitwereontheotherendofanarrowtunnel.
Themanspokeagain.“Wantmetositwithheruntilshewakesup?”
“Offerisappreciated,Bas,butI’mfinewhereIam.”
Someofthefogclearedthenasthatacutesenseofawarenessincreased.Thatvoicewascloser,clearer.Itwashim.MyHyhbornlordwho…Whathadhappened?Flashesofmemoriesbrokethrough.Thegardensfullofsoftlyglowingorbs.Myintuition.Bloodsplatteredalongthepaleblossoms—
“Yousure?”Bas’svoicewasloudernow.“Yourtimeisbetterspentelsewhere.”
“Iknowitis,”theLordresponded.“ButI’mquiteenjoyingthepeaceandquiet.”
“Andthescenery?”Basremarked.
“Thattoo.”
Alow,roughchucklecamefromthisBas,andthentherewasthesilenceofunconsciousnessagain,andIwelcomedit,feeling…feelingcaredfor.
Safe.
SoIletmyselfslipaway.
Slowly,Ibecameawareofapleasantscent.Awoodsy,softone.Ialsobecameawareofmyheadrestingonsomethingfirm,butnotnearlyashardastheground,andthenthedistantsingingofnightbirdsandinsects.Myheartkickedup.Iwasstillinthegardens,lyinghalfoncoolgrass,butmyheadwas—
Thethumbonmyarmstilled.“Ithinkyou’refinallywakingup,na’laa.”
Myeyesflutteredopenandmybreathcaught.TheLord’sfacewasabovemine,castmostlyinshadow.Onlyathinsliceofmoonlightcutthroughthecanopyoflimbsaboveus,glancingoffhisjawandmouth.
Hegavemeafaintsmile.“Hello.”
Bitsofwhathadhappenedcamebackinaninstant,propellingmeintoaction.Jackknifingupright,Iscurriedontomyhandsandknees,backingawayseveralfeet.
“Youshouldknowbynow.”TheLord’shandsfelltohislap—thelapmyheadhadbeenrestingin.“ThatI’mnotgoingtoharmyou.”
“Yousaidyoudidn’tcareifmyneckwassnapped,”Ipanted,armsandlegstremblingwiththerushofleftoveradrenaline.
“ThatiswhatIsaid.”
Istaredattheshadowsofhisface,dumbfounded.“Ihelpedyoulastnightandyoulethimtakeme—”
“ButIdidn’tlethimtakeyou,nowdidI?”Hecrossedanankleofonelonglegovertheother.“IfIhad,youwouldn’tbealive.Hewould’vesnappedyourneckorrippedoutyourheartashethreatened.”
Hehadapoint.Icouldrecognizethat,butthefearandanger,thesenseofbetrayalandtheicypanic,werefloodingmysystem,chasingawaythatstrangeandcompletelyidioticfeelingofsafety,ofbeingcaredfor.
Iliftedashakinghandtomythroat,stillabletofeelMuriel’sgrippressingin,bruisingandcrushing.
“Areyouinpain?”theLordasked.
“No.”IgentlyproddedtheskinasIrockedbackonmyhaunches.Theskintherewasalittletender,butnothingextreme,whichmadenosense.Iclearlyrememberedfalling—no,beingthrownasideandmyheadhittingsomethinghard,thensudden,violentpainbeforethenothingness.IliftedmygazetotheLordoncemore,recallingthewarmthofhistouchandthebrushofsomethingsofteragainstmyforehead.
“ContrarytowhatIledthedearlydepartedMurieltobelieve,andunfortunately,youtoalsothink,Ididn’tallowhimtocontinuetouseyouasashield,”hesaid.“Istoppedhim,andyouwerecaughtinthemiddleofthat.”
Thememoryofsomethinghardcrashingintous—aflashofahandlandingonMuriel’sarm—rose.“He…hethrewme.”
“Actually,thatwasme,”theLordcorrected.“Iwasattemptingtogetyoutoasafedistance.Imayhavedonesoabittooenthusiastically.”Hischindipped,andthemoonlighthitonehigh,sweepingcheekbone.“Myapologies.”
MyhearthammeredasIloweredmyhandtohoverafewinchesabovetheplushgrass.Abittooenthusiastically?Irememberedthatfeelingofweightlessness—offlying.He’dthrownmeasideasifIweighednothingmorethanasmallchild,andtherewasnothingsmallaboutme.IswallowedhardasIstartedtolookaroundus.
“Murielisnomore,”theLordshared.
ThatIfigured.“Therewasanotherwhowashere.A…aBas?”
“ThatwasBastian—LordBastian.He’sleft,”hesaid.“We’realone,na’laa.”
Therewasaskipinmybreath.“Ishouldbehurt.Ishouldbe…”Icouldn’tbringmyselftosayit.ThatIshouldbedead.Isatbackonmyass.Orfellonit,landinginapuddleofmoonlight.“Didyou…didyoukissmeagain?”
“Excuseme?”
“Healme,”Iclarified.“Didyouhealmeagain?”
Acrossfromme,theLorduncrossedhisanklesanddrewonelegup.Heliftedashoulder.“Itoldyouthatna’laameansseveralthingsinmylanguage.”
Iblinked,pressingmyhandintothegrass.Hisunwillingnesstoanswermyquestiondidn’tpassbyme.“Iremember.Yousaiditmeans‘braveone.’”
“Itdoes.”Onearmdroppedtorestonhisbentknee.“Itcanalsomean‘stubbornone.’”Therewasahintofasmileinhisvoice.“Whichmakesthenicknameallthemorefitting.”
Mylipsturneddownatthecorners.“Andwhywouldyouthinkthat?”
Hisfingersbegantotapagainsttheair.“Isthataseriousquestion?”
“I’mnotstubborn.”
“Ibegtodiffer,”hesaid.“Iclearlyremembertellingyoutocometome.Youdidn’t.ThenItoldyounottomoveandyouthenran.”
Istiffened,indignant.“IranbecauseIhadjustseenyouputyourhandintoanother’schestandincineratethem.”
“Butitwasnotyourchestmyhandwentinto,wasit?”hecountered.
“No,but—”
“Butyourananyway,”hecutin.“ThenwhenItoldyoutoceasestrugglingsinceyouwouldonlyharmyourself,youcontinuedtodoso.”
Icouldn’tbelieveIhadtoexplainanyofthis.“That’sbecausehewascrushingmyneck.”
“Iwouldn’thaveallowedthat.”
“Youhadjustsaid—”
“ThatIdidn’tcareifhesnappedyourneck.IknowwhatIsaid,”heinterrupted.Again.“AndIdidn’tcareaboutwhatheclaimed,becauseIknewIwouldnotallowthat.”
“HowwasIsupposedtoknowthat?”Iexclaimed.
“Well,yougavemeaidlastnight.WhatwouldthatmakemeifIallowedyoutobecomehurt?Oh,Iknow.Abastard.”
Myeyesnarrowed.
“AndbecauseI’maDeminyen,”hesaid,asifthatmeantanything.“Andweareyourprotectors.”Therewasanotherpause.“Mostly.”
Isquelchedthelaughthreateningtoescape.Yes.Mostly.“Murielwasgoingtoharmme.Hewas—”
“Murielwasanidiot.”
Irritationloosenedmytongue,butIcaughtmyself,snappingmymouthshut.ThiswasaHyhbornlordIwasspeakingtoandhewasn’tinjurednow.
Hisheadtiltedagain.“Youweregoingtosaysomething?”
“No,I—”
“Yes,youwere.”
“Oh,mygods,”Isnapped.“Iwasgoingtoaskyoutostopinterruptingme;however,thatwouldbeimpossiblebecauseyoukeepdoingit,soI’mtryingtoberespectful.”
“Unlike…?”Thosefingersstilldancedattheair.“Unlikeme?”
“Youknow?IthinkIlikedyoubetterwhenyoudidn’thavetheenergytospeak.”
“So,youlikedme?”
“That’snotwhatIsaid.”
“That’sexactlywhatyousaid.”
“Forfuck’ssake,”Ihissed.“Thatwasn’twhatImeant.”
TheLordlaughed—andthesoundwasdeepand…andnice.Unexpected.Hehadn’tlaughedlikethatlastnight.“Didyouknowthatna’laahasanotheruse?Foronewhois…outspoken?”
Stubborn?Outspoken?“IthinkIpreferthe‘brave’meaning.”
“Thereisafourthmeaning,”theLordadded.
“Thiswordofyourshasalotofmeanings,”Imuttered.
“Many,”hemurmured.“Butthefourthisalsousedtodescribesomeonewhoisungrateful.Thatisalsoratherfitting,don’tyouthink?Isavedyourlife,andyet,youfindmeimpolite.”
Igapedathim.
“AndIalsosathereandwaiteduntilyouwokeup,justtomakesureyouwereokay.Watchingoveryou.Evenletyouusemybodyasapillow.”Thereitwasagain—thehintoftheteasingsmileIcouldn’tseebutheardinhisvoice.“Ithinkthatwasquitepoliteofme,especiallysinceIdidn’tgettouseyourbodyasonelastnight.”
“Iclearlyrecallyouaskingformyhelplastnight,”Ishotback.“Meanwhile,Ididn’taskyoutodoanyofthosethings.”
“Youwould’vehelpedevenifIhadn’tasked,”hesaid,andIpressedmylipstogether.“JustasIdidwithoutyouasking,eventhoughIdohavefarmoreimportantthingstoattendto.”
Angerhitmybloodinahotrush,looseningthatmouth.“Ifyouhavefarmoreimportantthingstodo,nooneisstoppingyou.Yourpresenceisnotneedednorwelcomed,mylord.”
Thosefingersstilledinthespaceabovehiskneeasheshiftedalittlebitfartherintothestreamofmoonlight.Hismouth,thecurveofhisjaw,andhisnosebecamemorevisible.Hissmilewaswolfish.
MystomachhollowedasIbecameverystill.TherewasagoodchanceI’doversteppedmyself.
“You’reright,na’laa.Idon’tneedtobehere,”hesaid,almostassoftlyaswhenhehadspokentotheHyhborninthosemeresecondsbeforeheendedtheirexistence.“Iwanttobehere.”
Ifeltitthen.Hisgaze.EventhoughIcouldn’tseehiseyes,Icouldfeelhisstaredriftingovermyfeatures,thendown.Atinglingwaveofwarmthfollowed.
“Afterall,”hesaid,voicethicker,smoother.“Thesceneryisquitelovely.”
Iglanceddown,seeingthatthemidnight-bluerobehadcomeunbeltedatsomepointandtheivorynightgownwasvisibleunderneath.Itwasbasicallytranslucentinthemoonlight,leavingmuchofmybreastsclearlyvisiblebeneaththewispygown.
“I’mstaring.Iknow,”theLordsaid.“AndI’malsoawareofhowimpoliteI’mbeingnow.”
Slowly,Iliftedmygazetohim.ItwasknownthattheHyhbornenjoyedonlytwothingsequally.Violenceand…andsex.Ishouldn’tbesurprised,especiallywhenIhadseenhowhewasthenightbefore,buthewasaHyhbornlord,andnow,withhimuninjuredandinthegardens,I…Iwasjustsomelowborn—
Cometothinkofit,whatwereheandtheothertwodoinginthesegardens?Hyhborntendedtointeractwithlowbornmorefreelyand…intimatelyduringtheFeasts,evenHyhbornlords,buttheFeastswerequiteawaysofffrombeginning.
“Muriel?”Isaid.“HewastheoneIheardFinnandMickiespeakof.”
“Hewas.”
Idraggedmyteethovermylowerlip.“AndFinn?Mickie?”Therewasabeatofsilence.“Thefires?That’swheretheyendedup?”
“Ithinkyouknowtheanswertothat.”
Idid.“Howdidyouendupinthegardens?”
“I’dsentamessagetoNathanieltomeet,knowingMurielisneverfarfromhisbrother,”heanswered.“Asluckwouldhaveit,thisiswhereNathanielrequestedtomeet.”
ThenthathadtomeantheHyhbornbrotherswerefromPrimvera.
“Yousaidyoulikedthoselittleballsoflight?”hesaid,drawingmefrommythoughts,andittookamomentformetorealizehewasrespondingtowhatI’dsaidtohimandMuriel.“Iassumeyouwerespeakingofthesōls.”
“Souls?”Iwhispered,surprisedenoughtoask.
“Notsoulsofmortals.”Thatfaintgrinappearedagain.“Butsōlsofallthatisaroundyou.Thetreewesitbeneath.Thegrass.Thebloomsofthewisteriacurrentlyinyourhair.”
“Oh.”Myhandliftedoutofreflex.IranmyhanddownmybraiduntilIfeltsomethingsoftanddewy.Ipulledthepetalfree,cringing.“Ididn’tknowthat.”
Hechuckledagain.Thesoundwasstillnice,whichseemedcompletelyatoddswith,well,everything.“I’msuretheblossomwaspleasedtofinditselfbeingattachedtosuchalovelymortal.Though,IcanthinkoffarmoreinterestingplacesIwould’veattachedmyselfto.”
Iblinkedonce.
Thentwice.
Andthenmyminddecidedtotakeaquickjauntwhereitshouldn’tgo,conjuringupallthoseinterestingplaces.Asuddenachingtwistcurleddeepinmystomach.Ishiftedonthegrass,leftunsteadybytheintensepulseofdesire—byyetanotherstarkreminderofwhathewas.
“So,wereyoulookingforthesōls?”theLordquestioned,liftingahand.Hemadeasofthummingnoise—agentle,melodicsound.
Aheartbeatlater,abutteryglowappearedinthetreeaboveus,slowlydescendingthroughthebranchesandvines.Thenanother.Andanother.Mylipsparted.Alittleoverahalfdozenfloatedthroughthetrees.
“Youcancallthemtoyou?”Iasked.
“Ofcourse,”heanswered.“Weareapartofeverythingthatsurroundsus.Theyareapartofus.”
Iwatchedasoneofthesōlsdriftedaboveme.“They’rebeautiful.”
“Theyappreciateyousayingso.”
Abrowrose.“Theycanunderstandme?”
“Theycan.”Heliftedhischin,gesturingtooneofthesōls.“Seehowtheirlightshavegrownbrighter?”
Inodded.
“That’showyouknow.”
“Oh.”Myfingerstingledwiththeurgetoreachoutandtouchonewithoutthegloves,butIfiguredthatwaspushingit.IpeekedattheLord,wishingIcouldseemoreofhisface.Hiseyes.ButitwasprobablyablessingthatIcouldn’tatthispoint.“What…whatisyourname?”
“Thorne.”
Therewasastrangewhooshingmotionthroughoutmychest.Afteralltheseyears,Ifinallyhadanameforhim.Ididn’tknowhowtothinkofthat,butitfeltstrangelylife-altering.
Iclearedmythroat.“I…Ishouldprobablybeonmyway.”
Heinclinedhishead.“Probably.”
Relievedyetunnervedthathe’dagreed,Irose.
“ButIwouldbebereftifyoudid,”headded,andIseriouslydoubtedthat.“Ihavesomanyquestions.”
Ihalted.“About?”
Hestoodsoquickly,Ihadn’tseenhimmove.Oneminutehewassittingandthenhewasstanding.“Aboutyou,ofcourse.”
Myheartgaveasharplurch.“There’snotmuchtoknowaboutme.”
“Icannotbelievethat’strue.”Hewasnearlyintheshadowsofthewisterianow,butsomehowheseemedcloser.“I’mwillingtobetthereis,startingwithhowwemet.”
Afineshiverskatedacrossthebackofmyskullanddownmyspine.Thegroundfeltlikeitwasshiftingagain.“How…howwemet?”
“Tonight,”heclarified.“Isthishowyounormallyspendyournights?Alone,chasingsōlswhenyou’renotrescuingthoseindistress?”
“Yes,”Iadmitted.“Inormallydon’ttravelthispartofthegardensatnight.”
“Buttonightwasdifferent.”
Inodded,onceagaindecidingtoerronthesideofhalftruth.“Iheardvoicesandwasconcernedthatsomethingbadmighthappen.”
“Soyoudecidedtointervene?Again?”Thesurprisewasevidentinhisvoice.“Withnoweapon,andstill,apparentlynoknowledgeofhowtodefendyourself?”
Mylipspursed.“Isupposeso.”
Therewasamomentofsilence.“Oncemore,you’veprovenjusthowbraveyouare.”
“Ijust…IjustdidwhatIthoughtwasright.”
“Andthatoftentakesthemostbravery,doesn’tit?”
Inodded,tellingmyselfIneededtoshutdownthisconversation.Therewasawholeslewofreasonswhy.Ithadtobelate,butIhesitated….
Thatsmileofhisappearedoncemore.Theslight,tightcurveofhislips,andagain,therewasasharp,tautcurllowinmybelly.Mymouthdriedalittle.
“I’massumingyoucallArchwoodManoryourhome?”LordThorneasked,andalthoughIhadn’tseenhimmove,hewascloser.
Inodded.“I…Ispendalotoftimeinthesegardens,”Ishared,andIwasn’tevensurewhyexceptfortheedgynervousnessthatalwaysledtomerambling.“That’swhyyousmelledcatmintonme.”
“Iwouldn’thaveevenenteredthemifithadnotbeenforNathaniel,”hesaid,headturningashescannedthegardens.“Strangehowthatworkedout.”Hisgazereturnedtome.“Withyou.”
Yes,itwasstrange.
“I’msorryaboutyour…”Friends?ItwasobviousthatneitherMurielnorNathanielhadbeenafriend.“I’msorryaboutwhathappenedwiththem.”
Hisheadturnedbacktomineashewentquiet.Itwasthesamereactionhe’dhadthenightbeforewhenIapologizedforwhatwasdonetohim.
Iswallowed.“There’ssomethingI’vebeenwonderingalldayaboutMuriel.Hesetyouup,didn’the?”
LordThornenodded.
“WhywouldaHyhbornbeinvolvedintheshadowmarket?”
Hewasquietforseveralmoments.“That’sagoodquestion.OneIwouldliketoknowtheanswerto,butIdohaveanotherquestionforyou.”
“Whatisthat?”
Oneofthevinesmovedtothesideas,thistime,Isawhimstepforward.Hehadn’ttouchedthevine,butashe’dsaid,hewaspartoftherealminawaylowborncouldneverbe.“HowdidyouspendyourdaywonderingwhyaHyhbornwouldbeinvolvedintheshadowmarketwhenyoudidnotknowuntiltonightthathewasaHyhborn?”
Shit.
Myhearttrippedoveritself.“I…Ijustassumedhewas.”Mythoughtsraced.“YousaidyouweretomeethimattheTwinBarrels.IfigureditwouldbeanotherHyhborn.”
“Ah.”Anotherwisteriastemspunwithouthistouch.“ItshouldbeIwhoapologized,forwhatyouhadtowitnessandexperiencedtheselasttwonights.I’msurethat’snotsomethingyouseeeveryday.”
“I…Iwasn’texpectingtofindHyhbornonthevergeofkillingoneanother.”
Heletoutadrylaugh.“Youmaybesurprisedtoknowthatisn’tallthatuncommonanoccurrence.”
Mybrowsrose.Iwassurprised.Thenagain,IknewlittleofwhatoccurredintheHyhbornCourts.
“YoumustthinkI’mamonsternow?”
“No,thathasn’tchanged.Imean,hewasgoingtostabyou,whichseemedlikeareallypoorlythought-outdecisionbasedonhowthatturnedoutforhim.Andwell,Murielwasgoingtokillme,sofuckhim,”Iwenton,flushingathislowchuckle.“Whydidhesetyouup?”
“Besidesthefacthewasafool?Hewasscared.”
“Of?”
“Me.”Oneofthesōlsmovedoverhisshoulder,nearlygrazingmineasitpassedusby.“So,hethoughtitbesttohavemedealtwith.”
Ididn’treallyknowLordThorneatall,buthedidn’tstrikemeasthetypeoneattemptedtoforceintoanything.“Iguessbothweremakingmorethanonepoorlythought-outchoicetonight.”
“You’veguessedright.”Hisfingersdriftedoveroneofthewisteriastemsoncemore.
However,itseemedtomethatitwasmorethanMurieljustbeingafraidofLordThorne.Granted,thatwouldbeenoughreasonformost,butthey’dspokeninthosebriefmomentsasiftheywerealludingtosomethingelse—somethingthatwaslikelynotmybusiness,butIwascurious.
“Well,I…Ihopeyoufindwhateveritisyouwerelookingfor,”Itoldhim,andhisheadtiltedagain.“Itsoundedlikeyouwerelookingforsomethingthatheclaimedtohaveinformationon.”
“Yes,butnowI’mnotsureifhespokethetruthornot.”
IstartedtoaskwhatitwasthatwouldpossiblyangertheKing,butLordThornetouchedawisteriablossom,drawingmygazeashisfingersdrewthemdownthelengthofthevine,notdislodgingasingleblossom.
Anothersōlappeared,joiningtheotherastheyfloatedoverus,castingenoughlightthatwhenLordThorneturnedhisheadtowardmefully,Ifinallysawhisfaceclearlyoncemore.
Atinglingsensationstartedatthebaseofmyneckandspreadthroughouttheentiretyofmybodyasmygazeliftedtothegolden-brownhairbrushingagainstpowerfulshouldersandathroatthecolorofwarmsand.
Asayounggirl,I’dfoundhimtobebeautifulandterrifying.
Andthathadn’tchanged.
Alockofhairfellacrosshischeekasaneyebrowashadeortwodarkerthanthatwavylockofhairrose.“Areyouallright?”
Igaveasmalljerk.“Yes.I’mjusttired.It’sbeenastrangetwonights.”
Hestaredatmeforamoment.“Thatithas.”
Iswallowed.“IthinkI…Ineedtoreturntothemanor.”
LordThornewassilent,watchingmeclosely.Intently.
Heartthumping,Itookanotherstepback.“IappreciatethatyoumadesureI…Ididn’tdiebackthereand,um,thatyouwatchedoverme.”
Hisheadstraightened.“So,youareappreciativeoftheaidyoudidn’taskfor?”
“Ofcourse—”Icutmyselfoff,seeingtheteasingliftofhislips.“Youstilldidn’thaveto.”
“Iknow.”
Iheldhisstareforamoment,thennodded.“Goodnight,”Iwhispered.
Istartedtoturnaway.
“Na’laa?”
Itwistedtowardhim,gaspingasIjerkedback,bumpingintoanearbywisteria.LordThornestoodlessthanafootbeforeme,thetrailingblossomsbehindhimstill,completelyundisturbed.Ihadn’tevenheardhimmove.Hetoweredovermeinthedarknessofthetree,blockingoutalltracesofmoonlight.Myhandsfelltomysides,palmspressingagainsttheroughbark.
“ThereissomethingImustaskofyoubeforeyougo,”hesaid.
TheshallowbreathItookwasfullofhiswoodsy,softscent.Whatwasthatscent?Ijoltedattheunexpectedtouchofhishandsonmyshoulders.“What?”
“Whatyousawheretonight?”Hishandscoasteddownmyarms.Thetouchwaslight,butimmediatelysentmypulseracing.Hereachedmywrists.“WithMurielandNathaniel?Donotspeakofit.”
Ishiveredashishandsslidtomyhips.Thenightgownwasnobarrieragainstthewarmthofhispalms.Histouch…itfeltbranding.“O-Ofcourse.”
“Toanyone,”heinsisted,hishandsleavingmyhipsandgoingtothehalvesofmyrobe.Isuckedinaheadygaspofairashisknucklesbrushedthecurveofmystomach.Hefoldedtherobeclosed,thenfoundthesash.
Iheldmybreathashetiedthesashjustbelowmybreasts.“Iwon’t.”
Remainingcompletelystillashefinishedwiththesash,Ifeltmypulsepoundashethentookaholdofmywristandliftedittohismouth.Icouldn’tmove.Itwasn’tfearordistressthatheldmeinplace,anditshouldbe.
YetIwasn’tafraid.
Itwas…wasanemotionIcouldn’tnameordescribeasheturnedmyhandover,pressinghislipstothecenterofmypalm,justashehaddonethenightbefore.Thefeelofhislipsagainstmyskinwasashocktothesenses.Theyweresoftandgentle,yetfirmandunyielding,andwhenheloweredmyhand,hisbreathtracedthecurveofmycheekuntilourmouthsweremereinchesapart.
Washegoingtokissme?
Foronechaoticmoment,anarrayofsensationsassailedme—disbeliefandwanting,panicandyearning.Myhearthammeredinconfusion.Ididn’twanttobekissedbyaHyhbornlord,especiallyonewhocurrentlyfeltvaguelythreatening.
ButIdidn’tturnmyheadawaywhenhisbreathdancedovermylips.IknewinthatmomentwhatI’ddiscoveredseveraltimesthroughoutmylife:therehadtobesomethingseriouslywrongwithme.Myeyesstartedtodriftshut—
Acoolwindkissedthenapeofmyneck.
LordThornestilled.
Eyesopening,Ifeltthatchilltravelacrossmybody.Thenightbirdsnolongersang.Theentiregardenwaseerilysilent,andasIglancedaround,Isawthateventhesōlsseemedtohaveabandonedtheareaasthatearlierfeelingreturned—theicythickeningoftheair.
“Returntoyourhome.”LordThorne’svoicewascoolerandharder,fallingagainstmyskinlikefrozenrain.“Dosoquickly,na’laa.TherearethingsmovinginthegardennowthatwillfindyourfleshastastyasIfinditlovely.”
Mystomachlurched.“Willyoubeokay?”
LordThornestilled,andIsupposedmyquestionhadrenderedhimspeechless.Ithadalsoshockedme.WhywouldIbeworriedwhenI’dseenhimincinerateanotherHyhborn?OrwhywouldIevencareifhewasokay?BecausehehadhelpedGradyandmeoncebefore?Itfeltlikemorethanthat,though.
“Ofcourse,”hepromised.“Youneedtohurry.”Hishandfirmedagainstmyneck,thenheletgo.
Istumbledback,heartthundering.Iopenedmymouth—
“Go,na’laa.”
Trembling,IbackedawayandthenIturned—Iturnedandran,unsureofwhatunsettledmemore.IfitwasthesoundsofheavywingsbeatingatthenightskyorifitwastheinexplicablefeelingthatIshouldn’tberunning.
ThatIshouldbestandingathisside,facingwhatwascoming.CHAPTER11
“Howmany?”theBarondemandedashepacedthelengthofoneofthenumerousreceivingchambersneartheGreatChamber.Onlyonetailofhiscrispwhiteshirtwastuckedintothetanbreecheshewore.Hisdarkhairappearedasifhe’drunhishandsthroughitseveraltimesthatmorning,leavingitstickingupindifferentdirections.“Howmanyofmymenwerekilledlastnight?”
“Threeareconfirmedtobedeceased,”MagistrateKidderrespondedfromwherehesat,hishandsgrippinghiskneesuntilhisknuckleswerebleachedwhite.“Buttherewere…piecesfoundalongtheoutsideofthemanorwallthathaveledustobelievetheremaybetwoormoreyetunconfirmed.”
Behindthegray-hairedmagistrate,Hymelfrowned.
“Pieces?”ClaudespuntowardtheMagistrateasmygazeflickeredtothedoorway,brieflymeetingGrady’s.“Whatdoyoumeanbypieces?”
“Well,tobemoreexact,therewereadditionallimbsthatoutnumberedthoseaccountedfor.”MagistrateKidder’scomplexionwasnearlyaspaleastheBaron’sshirt.“Onelegandtwoadditionalarms.”
“Fuck,”Hymelmuttered,lipcurling.
ThebiteofcoldmeatsandwichI’dswallowedmereminutesagoimmediatelysouredinmystomach.Islowlyplacedtheforkandknifeontothetable,immenselyregrettingnothavingtakenmylunchinmyquarters.ButIhadn’tbeenpreparedforClaudetostormintothespacewiththeMagistrateintow.NorhadIbeenpreparedtolearnthatthreeoftheBaron’sguardshadbeenkilledlastnight.Orfour.Orfive.
Claudegrabbedadecanterfromthecredenzaanddrankstraightfromit.“Howlongbeforeyourpeoplecanfindandcleanuptheremainsthatbelongedtothoseadditionalarmsandlegs?”Hesetthedecanterdownheavily.“Guestshavealreadybeguntoarriveforthisevening’sfestivities.ThelastthingIneedisforanyofthemtostumbleuponarandomheadortorsoamongtheroses.”
Ibrieflyclosedmyeyes,moredisgustedbytheBaron’ssomewhatsurprisingutterlackofcareregardingwhothosepiecesbelongedtothanIwaswiththegrotesquetopicofconversation.
“Ihaveseveralmenoutthererightnow,searchingforpossibleremains,”theMagistrateassuredhim.“ButIwouldsuggestyouclosethegardensforthenextseveralhours.”
“Noshit,”Claudemuttered,dragginghishandthroughhishairagain.Thewaterinmyglassbegantotrembleashestartedpacingagain.“You’veseenthebodies,right?”
MagistrateKidder’sthroatbobbedashenodded.“AndIwon’tunseeanyofit.”
Claudecrossedinfrontofthewindow,momentarilyblockingthesunlight.“Whatdoyouthinkcausedthis?”
“Likelywhatyourcousinthinksandwhattheothersreportedseeing.”TheMagistrateglancedbackatHymel.“Ni’meres.”
AshudderranthroughmeasIrecalledthesoundofwingsbeatingagainsttheair.IhadtoagreewithwhatHymelandtheotherguardsweresaying.
Ni’mereswereanothertypeofHyhborn,thekindlowbornrarelydealtwithorsaw.I’donlyeverseenthemoncebefore,whenGradyandIwerejustkids,afterleavingUnionCity.Thestagecoachdriverhadspottedthemontheroad,circlingaportionoftheWychwoods.Theyweresomethingstraightfromanightmare—acreaturewithawingspanofoversevenfeetandtalonslongerandsharperthantheclawsofabear.Fromtheneckdown,theyresembledextraordinarilylargeeaglesthatstoodnearlyfourfeettall.
Buttheirheadwasthatofamortal.
“Butwhythefuckwouldni’meresattackmymen?”Claudedemanded.“Don’ttheyonlyattackwhensomeonecomestooclosetowherethey’renesting?”
“Idon’tthinktheywerethetarget.”Gradyspokeupfromwherehestoodatthedoors.“That’swhatOsmundsaidthismorning.Thattheni’mereswereheadingforsomethinginthegardens,andthosepatrollingthewallwereunfortunatelyintheway.GrellandOsmundwereonthegroundwhentheyhit.”
Claudepassedbymytable.“Thendoyouknowwhatcould’vebeeninthegardens,thatdrewthem?”
Nowmystomachchurnedforanentirelydifferentreason.Somethinghadbeeninthegardens.MyHyhbornlord—no,hewasn’tmine.Ireallyneededtostopwiththat.Ipickeduptheglassofwaterandtookseveralgulps.
“ThatIcan’tanswer,”Gradyresponded,hisgazebrieflyflickingtomine.Ishrankalittleinmyseat.“Noneoftheotherssawanythingoutoftheordinarybeforetheyswarmedthegardens.”
Swarmed.
MyhandshookslightlyasIplacedtheglassdown.AHyhbornlordwasapowerfulbeing,buttherehadtobeatleastadozenormoreni’meres.HowcouldLordThornehavefoughtthemoff?Buthehadtohave,becauseifnot,theywouldhavefoundhim.
Unlessthoseextralimbsbelongedtohim.
Worryfestered,knottinginmychestasIsetmyglassdown.
“Godsdamn,ni’meres,”Claudemuttered,shakinghishead.“Whatnext?Thenix?”
Ishuddered.Gods,Ihopednot.
“Ni’meresbehavinglikethat?”Hymelspokeup,frowning.“It’sratherunheardof,isn’tit?”
“Alotofunheard-ofthingshavebeenhappening,”MagistrateKidderreplied.
Claudestopped,lookingattheolderman.“Caretoaddmoredetailtothat?”
“I’vebeenhearingrumorsofHyhbornfighting,”theMagistratebegan.“There’vebeenreportsofithappeninginothercities.Justtheotherweek,IheardthattherehadbeenquitetheskirmishbetweentheminUrbanelastmonth.”
Mybrowsknittedinafrown.UrbanewasintheLowlandsterritory,notallthatfarfromtheHyhbornCourtofAugustine,whichalsoservedasthecapitalofCaelum.IthoughtofwhatLordThornehadsaidwhenitcametoHyhbornonthevergeofkillingoneanother.Apparentlyitwasn’toutoftheordinaryintheirCourts,butitwasraretohearofithappeninginfrontofthelowborn.
“Severalwerekilled,”MagistrateKidderadded.“Aswellasafewlowbornwhowereunfortunatelyinthewrongplaceatthewrongtime.”
“Doweknowwhattheyarefightingabout?”Claudeasked.
“ThatIhaven’theard.”TheMagistratescratchedathisjaw.“ButifIdohearanything,Iwillletyouknow.”
“Thankyou.”Claudeglancedoveratme,hisexpressionunreadable.Hecrossedhisarms.“Iwantthegardensclearedbythisevening.”HefacedtheMagistrate.“Idon’twantanythingleftbehind,notevenafingernail.”
“Willdo.”MagistrateKiddergottohisfeetandstrodestifflyoutofthechamber,notlookinginmydirection.Hehadn’toncesincehe’dentered.Ididn’tneedintuitiontoknowthathethoughtIwasnothingmorethanawell-keptwhorethathe’dhavetopayforthepleasureofevenlookingupon.
Whatever.
ThemomentthedoorclosedbehindtheMagistrate,theBaronturnedtome.Hisfeaturesweresotensedthathismouthwasnothingmorethanaslash.TheBaronwasclearlyinamood,andrightfullyso.Therewerebodypartsinhisgardens.
“Tellme,mypet,withallyourintuitionandsecondsight,”hesaid,armsathissides,“youdidn’tseeahordeofni’meresdescendingtowreakhavoconmygardens?”
“Forhertohaveseenthat,shewouldhavetoactuallybeuseful,”Hymelremarked,crossinghisarmsoverhischest.Overhisshoulder,IsawGradyeyeingthebackofhisheadlikehewishedtoknockitoffhisshoulders.“Andbeyondparlortricksandgoodinstincts,sheisn’tgoodformuch,cousin.”
Claude’sheadswungtowardHymel.“Shutup.”
AruddyflushhitHymel’scheeks.Helikedtorunhismouth,butheknewthatwhatIdidhadnothingtodowithparlortricksorillusion.Hewasjustbeinganass,asperusual.
SoIignoredhim,asperusual.
Claudefacedme.“Lis?”
“Itdoesn’tworklikethat,”Iremindedhim.“Youknow—”IjumpedasClaudelungedforward,swipinghisarmacrossthetable.Theglassofwaterandplateoftinytriangle-slicedsandwicheswentflyingontothehardwoodfloors.
MyjawunlockedinsurpriseasIstaredatthemessonthefloor.Claudehadatemper.Mostcaelestiasdid.I’dseenhimthrowaglassortwobefore.Expensivebottlesofwinehadhitthegroundmorethanonce,buthe’dneveractedthatwaytowardme.
“Yes,”Claudehissedinchesfrommyfaceasheplantedhishandsonthetable.IsawGradystarttostepforward,buthestoppedhimselfwhenIgaveacurtshakeofmyhead.“Iknowitdoesn’tworkthatway.Youcan’tseeanythingdealingwiththeHyhborn,but…”Hisgazelockedontomine.“ButIalsoknowthatisn’talwaysthecase.Sometimesyougetvagueimpressions,andIalsoknowyoucan’tseewhatyouareapartof.”
Myfingersdugintotheskirtofmygownassomethingoccurredtome.LastnightIhadseenwhatwasabouttohappenregardingMurielandLordThorne—thebloodsplatteredonthewisteriablossoms.Ithadn’toccurredtomethen.WasitbecauseitinvolvedLordThorne?
“So,tellme,mypet.”Hesmiled,snappingmeoutofmyrealization.Ortriedto.Itwasmoreofagrimace.“Wereyouinvolvedinthis?”
“No!”Iexclaimed.ShockrolledthroughmeasIstaredathim.Itwasn’tevenbecauseIwas,somewhat,involvedinwhathappenedlastnight.ButbecausehewouldeventhinkIhadanythingtodowithfreakingni’meres.“Ihadnothingtodowiththat.Ididn’tevenknowtherewereni’meresinArchwood.”
TheBaroneyedmeforseveralmomentsandthenpushedoffthetable,rattlingtheremainingutensils.“Therearen’tni’meresinArchwood,”hesaid,nostrilsflaringashetookastepback,nearlysteppinginthefood.“ButtherearesomeinPrimvera.Thatiswheretheylikelycamefrom.”Hestareddownatthemesshe’dcreated,pinkspreadingacrosshischeeks.“Eitherway,”hesaid,shovingtheuntuckedtailofhisshirtintohisbreeches.“Thoseni’mereswereobviouslyunhappywithsomethinginthatgarden.”
Morelikeunhappywithsomeone.
“Makesurethatmagistratedoeshisjob,”hesaidtoHymelbeforestoppingandcomingbacktowhereIsat.Histhroatbobbedashestareddownatme.“I’msorryforlosingmytemper.Ishouldn’thavedonethat.It’snotbecauseIwasangrywithyou.”
Isaidnothing,eyeinghimwarily.
Heexhaledroughly.“Icanretrieveafreshplateoffoodforyou.”
TheBaronsoundedlikehewastrulysorry.Notthatitmadehisoutburstjustified.“It’sokay,”Isaidwithasmile,becauseithadtobe.
TheBaronhesitated.“No,it’s—”Hestoppedhimselfandtookadeepbreath.“Iamsorry,”herepeated,andthenhestartedtowardthedoor,stoppingtospeaktoGrady.“Canyoumakesurethisiscleanedup?”
Gradynodded.
IroseasthedoorclosedbehindtheBaronandhiscousin,turningtothedisasteronthefloor.
“Igotit,”Gradysaidroughly,approachingthetable.
“It’smyfood.”Iknelt,beginningtoretrievethescatteredslicesofhamandcheese.
“Doesn’tmeanIcan’thelp.”Gradykneltacrossfromme,pickinguptheplate.“Whatawasteofgoodfood.”
InoddedasIdroppedafewofthepiecesontotheplateheheld,thinkingtherewasatimewhenneitherofuswould’vebattedaneyeateatingfoodthathadfallenonthefloorandbeensteppedon.
Findingatomato,Icringedattheslimydampness.“He’sinamood,isn’the?”
“Understatementoftheyear,Lis.”Hisjawworkedashepickedupthecupandsetitonthetable.“Thatwasn’tokay.”
“Iknow.”Ibrieflymethisgaze.“He’snotmylover,”Iremindedhim.
“Whatishetoyou?Yourboss,whorandomlygetsfartoofriendlywithyou?”
“No,he’smybosswhopretendstobemorethanheis.”Probablywishedhewere,too—wishedhefeltmoreforme,thatis.
“Stilldoesn’tmakeitokay.”
Inodded,scoopingupthelastpieceoffood,placingitontheplateasIrose.“Butit’snoteverydayyouhaveni’meresswarmingyourgardens.”
Gradysnorted.“Thankthegods.”Hepickedupapieceofbread.“Iwould’vepissedmyselfifIhadbeenoutthere,onthewall,andsawthemcoming.”
“No,youwouldn’thave.”
Hepinnedmewithastare,browsraised.
“Okay.”Ilaughed.“Youwould’vedonethatandthenfoughtthemoff.”
“No,Iwouldhavedonethatandthenrun,orpissedmyselfwhilerunning,whichistheonlysensiblethingwhenfacedwithsomethinglikeani’mere.”
Shakingmyhead,IpickedupthelastbitoffoodanddroppeditontheplateGradywasholding.IstartedtorisewhenInoticedanangry,shinyreddish-brownpatchofskinonGrady’sarm,justbelowhiswrist.Ireachedforhishand,butcaughtmyself.Mygazeflewtohis.“Whathappenedtoyourarm?”
“What?”Heglanceddown.“Oh.It’snothing.Iwasmakinganewbladeandmyhandslipped.Gottooclosetotheheat.”
“Gods,Grady.Thatlookspainful.Haveyouputanythingonit?”Immediately,Istartedthinkingofthedifferentpoulticesthatcouldbeused.“Ican—”
“Ialreadyusedthestuffyoumadelasttime.See?”Hetiltedhisarmtowardthelight.“Thesheen?It’sfromthealoestuffyoumade.”
“Youneedtousemorethanthat.”Itooktheplatefromhim,placingitonthetable.“Andyoushouldcoveritwhenyou’reoutside,especiallywhenyou’reworkingintheshop.”
“Yes,Mother,”Gradyreplieddryly.
Eyeinghiswound,Iwasremindedofsomething.“HaveyoutalkedtoClaudeabouttakingoverforhisblacksmith?Danilshouldberetiringsoon,right?AndwithwhathappenedtoJac…”
“Ihaven’t.”Gradyturnedaway.
Myeyesnarrowed.“Butyouwill,right?”
Oneshoulderlifted.
“Icanaskhim—”
“Don’tdothat.”Gradyfacedme.
“Whynot?”Icrossedmyarms.“You’regoodatthat—”
“I’mgoodatwhatIdonow.”
“Yeah,butyouactuallyenjoyworkingwithironandsteel.It’srarethatsomeoneisgoodatsomethingtheyenjoydoing.”Iwatchedhimfiddlewiththeleatherstrapacrosshischest,holdingoneofthebladesIknewhehadcraftedhimself.“YouneedtoaskClaude.He’snotgoingtotellyouno.”
“Iknow.Iwill.”Hewasquietforamoment.“You’regoingtohatewhatIsaynext,butyoushouldprobablystayoutofthegardensforalittlewhile.”
“Yeah,probably.”Icrossedthechamber,thegownsnappingatmyheels.Istaredoutthewindow,mythoughtsdriftingbacktothatoddfeelingIhadlastnight.ThatIshould’vestayedbyhisside.
Itwasstillthere,likeashadowinthebackofmymind.ThatIshouldbeoutthere.
Withhim.
WhereIbelonged.CHAPTER12
Inthedaysthatfollowed,thingshadcalmedaroundthemanorandwithinArchwood.Therehadbeennomoreni’mereattacksorwordconcerningtheIronKnightsandtheWestlands’princess,norhadIfoundanymoreguardsinvolvedintheshadow-markettrade.
Thingswerenormal.
IspenttimeinthegardensandwithNaomi,satwithGradyintheevenings.IjoinedClaudeforhissuppersandrodeIristhroughthemeadowsbetweenthemanorandthecity,andIfoundpleasureinthesethings,likeagoodlittlelowborn
Buteachnight,Iwentintothegardens,andItriedtoconvincemyselfthatitwasn’tbecauseofhim.ThatIwasn’touttherebecauseIhopedtofindtheHyhbornlordamongthewisteriablossoms.Thatithadnothingtodowiththeoddfeelingthathauntedmeasdaysturnedintoweeks.
LordThornehadn’treturned,butthatfeelingI’dhadthefirsttimewemetremained.IknewIwouldseehimagain.
TonightI’dstayedinmyquarters,notfeelinguptosocializing.Iwasinaweirdmood;oneIcouldn’tquitedecipher.Alone,I’dspentmuchoftheeveningwatchingthesōlsdriftingacrossthelawnandintothegardenswhilethehumofmusicfromthelawnfollowedthewarmbreeze.I’devengonetobedatanunreasonablyearlytime,butI’dwokensuddenly,sometimebeforemidnight,heartracing.Itwaslikewakingfromanightmare,butIwasn’tevensureI’dbeenasleeplongenoughtodream.
Thathadbeenhalfanhourago,andunabletofallbackasleep,Ireturnedtomychair,abookunopenedinmylapasIwatchedthesōls.Irevisitedthatoddfeelingthatremained,likeI’ddonesomanytimessinceI’dlastseenLordThorne.Ijustcouldn’tfigureitout,anditpreyeduponmymind.WhywouldIthinkIneededtoremainbyhissidewhentheni’meresarrived?Wasn’tlikeIwould’vebeenmuchhelp,unlessscreamingfrightenedthemaway.
WhydidIfeellikeI…InolongerbelongedwhereIwas,moresothannormal?Iwasbeginningtothinkthatwasthesourceofmymoodtonight—
Aloudseriesofrapscausedmetogivealittlejump.ItwistedtowardthedoorasIheardGradycallout,“Lis?Youinthere?”
“Coming.”Irose,tighteningthesashonmyrobe.WorrysprangtolifeasIcrossedthenarrowspace,openingthedoor.IcouldthinkofonlytworeasonsGradywouldcometomychambersatthistimeofnight.Sometimesitwasjusttosharethesamebedwhenhewashavingtroublesleeping—acomfortbornoutoftheyearsofdoingso,andwhichhelped,sinceneitherofussleptallthatwell.Theotherreasonwas,well,potentiallystressful.
Gradystoodaloneinthedimlylithallway.“TheBaronhassummonedyou.”
Myshoulderstensed.“Hell,”Imuttered,notwastingtimechangingintomoresuitableclothing.IsteppedoutintothehallandclosedthedoorbehindmeasIglancedupatGrady.“Doyouknowwhy?”
“Idon’t,”heanswered.“AllIdoknowisthathewasinthesolariumwhenHymelcametogethim.Heleftforaboutahalfanhour,thencamebackandtoldmetoretrieveyou.”
Idrewmylowerlipbetweenmyteeth.TheoptionsweretrulylimitlesswhenitcametoClaude,butIseriouslydoubtedhe’dwantmetotakepartinwhatevercelebrationswereoccurringatthishour.
Gradyledmethroughthebackhallsofthemanor,theonestraveledonlybystaffandthosewhodidn’twanttoriskthechanceofrunningintoanyone.WeendedupatthesmallantechamberthatsatbehindtheGreatChamber.
Therewereafewpeopleintheantechamber,butmyattentionfocusedonClaude.Ihadn’tseenhimsincehisearliertempertantrum,andIwonderedifhetoowasthinkingofthatwhenoureyesmet,becausehischeeksflushed.Ididn’tthinkithadanythingtodowiththeblondehalfsprawledinhislap.HereyeswereunfocusedasClaudetappedheronthehip,urginghertorise.Shehalfslidontotheemptyportionofthesettee,andIhadafeelingshe’dbeenenjoyingthelaudanum-lacedwinethatwasoftenservedfortheBaron’sclosestfriends.
“Howareyoufeeling,pet?”theBaronaskedasIapproachedhim.
Immediately,IcaughtthesicklysweetstenchofMidnightOil,andIhadtostopmyselffromlaunchingintoatirade.“Well.Whatisgoingon?”
“I’mnotsure.Wehaveunanticipatedguests,”hesharedasheguidedmeawayfromthesettee,hisstepssluggish.HekepthisvoicelowasGradyapproachedus.“ItisamemberoftheRoyalCourtthathasrequestedshelterforhimandthreeothersfortheevening.”
Everypartofmybeingtensed.MembersoftheRoyalCourtwereoftenchancellors.“Thatisuncommon.”
“Mysentimentsexactly.”Westeppedbackfromthoseinthechamber.“Heisn’tsayingwhyhe’shere,claimingthathe’llspeakwithmeinthemorningwhen…”
“Whenwhat?”Iaskedwhenhetrailedoff.
“When,ashesaid,‘I’mofclearmind’orsomeothervariationofthat.”Claude’scheeksdeepenedincolor,andIsuddenlyunderstoodhisflush.ItoowouldbeembarrassedifachancellorarrivedwithpotentiallyimportantbusinesstodiscussandIwastoointoxicatedorhightodoso.Heclearedhisthroat,chinlifting.“Iwouldlikeforyoutogotohimandseeifyoucanferretouthisreasoningforbeinghere.”
Awareofothersaroundus,Ikeptmyvoicelow.“Youcan’twaittofindoutyourselfinthemorning?”
“It’snotthewaitingthatwillkeepmeupallnightstressed.It’snotknowingwhathewantsbythetimewemeet.Ineedtobepreparedforthismeeting.”Hesoundedpositivelyaghastatthenotion.“Youalreadyknowhowharditisformetosleep.”
Itwashardforallofustosleep,butIdidn’tthinktheBaronwasawareofthat.
“Iam…”Hedippedhisheadashebrushedastrandofhairbackfrommyshoulder.“IamworriedthathebringswordfromtheRoyalThrone—theKing.Imaybea…tadbitlateonthequarterlytithes.”
“Forfuck’ssake,”Imuttered.
Aratherhigh-pitchedgiggleescapedClaude,andmybrowsshotupasIstaredathim.“Sorry,”hemurmured,lipstwitching.“Ineedyourspecialaid,pet.”
WhatClaudeneededwastoindulgelessinhispartyfavorsandstopspendingcoinonfrivolousbullshit.
Butwhatnoneofus,thosewhoreliedonhimkeepinghisshittogether,neededwasforClaudetogethimselfevenmoreworkedup.ThatwouldlikelyresultinhimsmokingmoreoftheMidnightOilandbeingacompletemessbythetimehewastospeakwiththechancelloroftheRoyalCourt.Andifthiswasbecausehe’dfailedtopayhisquarterlytaxes,Claudewouldneedtobeintopformtopleadforanynecessaryforbearanceandforgiveness.
“Okay,”Isighed.“Iwilldothis.”
Atoothysmileappeared.“Thankyou—”
“Ifyoupromisemethatyouwillgotobed,”Iinterrupted.“Youneedtorest.”
“Ofcourse,”heagreedtooquickly.“Thatistheplan.”
Ieyedhim.
“Iswear,”headded,aflopofdarkhairfallingoverhisforehead.“Iwanttobefreshasairedlaundry—”Hegiggledagain,thistimeathimself.“Iwillbesleepingverysoon.”
“Youbetter,”Iwarned.
“Youareararejewel,”heexclaimed,pressingaquickkisstomyforehead.“Enjoyyourself,Lis.”
TheBaronpattedmyshoulderagain,andIturnedfromhimbeforeIdidsomethingreckless,likeknockinghimonhisass.
FollowedbyGrady,Icrossedtheantechamber,catchingsightofNaomi.HergazebrieflymetmineasIpassed.IglancedpointedlyinClaude’sdirection,andsherolledhereyes,butnodded.Thiswasn’tthefirsttimeshewastaskedwithmakingsuretheBaronmadeittohisbedalone.ShewheeledtowardClaude,alaughspillingfromherlips—beautiful,butIcaughtthehintofannoyanceinthesound.ForsomereasonIrecalledthefirsttimeI’dbeenaskedtodowhateverittooktoensureIcouldgainwhatClaudewanted,whichrequiredmetobehaveasacourtesan.IthadbeenNaomiwhohadtakenmeaside,tookwhatlimitedknowledgeIhadwhenitcametothevariousdegreesofintimacy,andpreparedmeforwhatwastocome.Afterall,IhadbeenavirginbeforemeetingClaude,havingexperiencedonlyafewhastygropingsthatendedwithmehearingthingsI’dwishedIhadn’t.
ButNaomihadalsopreparedmewithsomethingevenClaudewasunawareof.KnowledgeofhowtheLongNightcouldbeused.Gradyalwayscarriedasmallpouchofitinthebreastpocketofhistunic.Withit,IcouldchooseexactlyhowfarIwishedtheeveningtoprogress.
Sadly,I’dusedtheLongNightmoreoftenthannot,andtonightwouldlikelybenodifferent.
“IneedtoseeMaven,”ItoldGradywhenwelefttheantechamber.
Grady’sshoulderstensed,buthenodded.Enteringanothernarrow,evenlesstraveledhall,westoppedinfrontofarounded,woodendoorsetwithinanalcove.Likealways,therobedfigureofthesilver-hairedMavenansweredatthesoundoftheknock.Iwalkedintohercandlelitchamber,leavingGradyinthehall,hisjawsohardIwouldn’tbesurprisedifhecrackedhismolars.
OnelookaroundthespaceandIsawthatshehadbeenexpectingme,meaningthateitherClaudeorHymelhadalreadyalertedher.Annoyanceflashed.WhatwouldClaudehavedoneifIhadsaidno?
ButwhywouldhehavethoughtthatIwould?Ididn’ttellhimno.Doingsorarelycrossedmymind,becausethiswashowImadesureIwasinvaluabletotheBaron.ThiswashowIensuredthatGradyandIwouldneverendupbackonthestreets.So,Iwasn’tsurewhomIshouldbemoreannoyedwith.Meorhim?
Maven’sspacewasmoreofapreparationchamber,outfittedwithallthenecessities—aclawfoottubfilledwithsteaming,scentedwater,brushesandracksofclothing.Therewasanarrowtablewheremoreintensepreparationoccurred—thewaxingandpluckingofallthehaironmybodyexceptforwhatgrewfrommyscalp.Claudepreferredthatlong,soitreachedmywaistnow.Ididn’tmindthelengthofhaironmyhead,butifIeverdecidedtoleave,Iwasnevergoingtotouchasinglepieceofhairanyplaceelseagain.Thankfullytheremovalofbodyhairhadalreadyroutinelytakenplace.
Iwenttothetub,disrobinginthesilence.Mavenwasn’tknownforbeingtalkative.Shedidn’tspeak.Notonceasthenightgownslippedfrommyshouldersandslidovermyhips,orwhileIsteppedintothetubandbathedmyself.Shejustwaited,atowelheldinthosecrookedfingers,hergazerheumybutalert.
NaomihadoncetoldmethatMavenwastheBaron’sgrandmotheronhisfather’sside,butValentino,oneoftheotherparamours,saidthatshewasthewidowedwifeofoneofthepastgroundskeepers.Lindie,acookatthemanor,claimedthatMavenhadbeenamistressofoneofthepastBarons,butIwasoftheopinionthatshewasawraiththatsomehowhadmanagedtokeepthefleshonherbones.Iglancedatthepaperythinskinofherforearms.Shebarelykeptthefleshonherbones.
OnceI’dfinishedinthetub,shedriedmeoffasroughlyashumanlypossible.Mavenalsowasn’tknownforhergentleness.Istoodnaked,toescurlingagainstthefloorassheshuffledtotherack.Thehangersclangedoffoneanotherassheflippedthroughtheclothing,eventuallypullingoutarobethatwasthecolorbetweencyanandblue.TheshadeoftheMidlands’cloudlesssky.
Ishovedmyarmsintothewrapperandstoodstillassheknottedthesashsotightlythefabriccutintothesoftskinofmywaist.OneglanceinthestandingmirrorconfirmedwhatIalreadyknew.Theveeofthenecklinewasabsurdlydeepandtherobewasmoregossamerthancloth.IfIwalkedinbrighterlight,theexactshadeoftheskinsurroundingmynipplewouldbeknown.
Swallowingasigh,Iwenttothestool,sittingsoMavencouldundoallthepinsholdingupmyhair.Shethenbrushedoutthetangles,jerkingmyheadbackwitheachstroke.Mynailsdugintomypalmsthroughoutthewholeprocess;IwassureI’dbehalfbaldsoon.Whenshefinished,nomorethananhourhadpassed.Sheopenedthedoor,leavingmetorejoinGradyinthehall.Shedidn’tfollow.Hertaskwasdoneforthenight.
NeitherGradynorIspokeuntilweenteredthesilenthallleadingtothevariouswingsofthemanor.Onlythesoftlightofthemoonstreaminginthroughthewindowslitourway,thankthegods.
Twistingmyfingersaroundthesash,Istaredahead,breathingintheairscentedwithhoneysucklethatflourishedalongthewallsofthemanorasIthoughtofothertimesI’dbeenaskedtousemyabilities.Usuallyitwasavisitingbaronoranothermemberofthearisto.Myintuitionusuallywasabletowarnwhetherthevisitorcouldbetrustedoriftheywereuptosomething.Icouldevensensemore,ifthatwaswhatClaudewanted.Helikedtoknowwhatmadetheothersticksothathecouldusethatinpotentialdealings.
“Here,”Gradyfinallysaid,reachingintothebreastpocketofhistunic,droppingasmallcoin-sizedpouchintomypalm.Thelaughterthatusuallyfilledhisdeepbrowneyeswasnowheretobeseen,norwerethoseboyishlycharmingdimplesthathadgottenhimoutofsomuchtroublewhenwewereyounger.“Findoutwhatyouneedtoknowandgetout.”
IglanceddownattheblackpouchcontainingtheLongNight.Claude’stargetswereneverawarethatthey’dbeendrugged.TheLongNightwasodorlessandtasteless.“Didyouseewhohascome?”
“No.Ionlyknowofthechamber,butI’massumingit’sachancellor.”Hisnostrilsflared.“Idon’tlikethis,Lis.”
“Iknow.”Curlingmyfingersaroundthepouch,Islippeditintothepocketoftherobe,wherethematerialwasthankfullythicker.“Butyoushouldn’tworry.I’llhaveitundercontrol.”
Lipspressedtogether,heshookhisheadaswewalkedalittlefarther,hishandclutchingthehiltofhissword.Wenearedtheeastwing,whichoverlookedthecourtyardsandthesectionsofthegardenswheretherosesbloomed.Thechambersherewerestately,reservedonlyforthosetheBaronsoughttoimpress.
IglancedupatGrady.Themusclealonghisjawwasticking.“YouunderstandthatIdon’thavetodothis.ThatI’mchoosingtodothis.”
Grady’sbrowsflewup.“Really?”
“Yes.Icould’vesaidno.Claudewouldn’thavemademedoit,andifIdon’twantthingstoprogress,I’llusetheLongNightonceIfindoutwhythischancellorishere.Hopefully,it’snotbecauseClaudeislateonhistithe,becausewereallydon’tneedthatontopofeverythingelsetoworryabout,”Isaid.“Tonightisnodifferentthananyothernight.”
Themusclecontinuedtopulseathisjaw.“Youspeakasifthisisnotabigdeal.”
Foldingmyarmsovermychest,Ilookedaway.Thethingwas,thesemeetingswerecomplicated,becausesometimesitwasn’tabigdeal.SometimesIenjoyedthetouching.Itwasn’tlikethoseImetunderthesecircumstanceswerealwaysbad,odiouspeople.Oftentheywerecharmingandinteresting,andI…couldtouchthemwithouttheguiltofseeingorsensingwhattheylikelywantedtokeephidden.IcouldshovelthatblameontoClaude,andyeah,Iknewhowmessedupthatwas.Deepdown,IknewIstillsharedsomeofthatguilt.Eitherway,Iwalkedawayfromtheseencountersunharmed,andtherehadbeenonlyafewtimesIsensedthingsIfeltlikeI’dneverbeabletoerasethememoryof.
Walkingoncemore,therewerejustthesoundsofhisbootsandmyrobewhisperingagainstthestoneflooruntilwecametoasetofdoubledoors.
“We’rehere,”Gradysaidquietly.“Ifanythinghappens…”
“Iscream,”Itoldhim—somethingI’dyettohavetodo.
Gradysteppedintome,hishandmovingtomyarm.“Becareful,”hewhispered.“Please.”
Myheartsqueezed.“Iwillbe.”Ismiledathim.“It’llbeokay.”
Gradystiffened.“Youkeepsayingthat.”
“Andmaybeyou’llstartbelievingme.”
“Ormaybeyou’llstartbelievingit.”
Itensed.Aweirdmixtureofsensationhitme—confusionandanemotionthatscaldedmyinsides,makingmewonderifIshouldn’tbeokaywithanyofthis.IfIalreadyknewtheanswertothatandmywordswereallfalsebravadoanddeflection.Iturnedfromhim,morethanjustalittleunsettled.Butnowwasn’tthetimefordeepintrospection.
BecauseIwasalreadyabitnervous.IwaseverytimeIdidthis.Ilikedtothinkanyonewouldbe,becauseIneverknewwhatwaswaitingontheothersideofthewalls.Iwastednomoretime,reachingforthegoldornateknobs.Unlockedasexpected.Isteppedinsideanantechamberlitbyalonelampplacedbyadeep-seatedsettee.ThedoorsmadenosoundasIclosedthembehindme.IhesitatedforonlyafewsecondsasIscannedthespace.Itwasemptyexceptfortherichfurnishingsdrapedinlushfabricsandcarvedoutofsmooth,glossywood,buttherewas…therewasapresencehere.
Atangibleenergythatcoatedmyskin,elicitingawaveofgoosebumps.MymouthdriedasIturnedtotheroundedarchwaythatledtothebedchambers.Fingersstilltwistingthesashnervouslybetweenthem,Istartedforwardevenasuneaseresurfaced.
Iassumedthatwhoeverwasherewouldbeexpectingcompany.Surely,Claudewould’vemadesureofthat.Afterall,thedoorswereunlocked.ButIheardnothingasIenteredthedarkenedbedchamber.MystepsslowedasIallowedmyvisiontoadjusttothedarkness.Iinchedcloser,makingoutthedoorleadingtothebathingchamberleftslightlyajar.Poweralsodrenchedthewallsandfloor.Tinyshiverscoursedovermyskin.Myheartbegantopoundevenfaster.Iknewthisfeeling,andtherewasascenthere.Asoft,woodsyaromathatremindedmeof—
Suddenly,Icouldnolongerseethedoorofthebathingchamber.Theroomhadbecomepitchblack,leavingmeblind,andthat…yeah,thatwasn’tnormal.Istartedtotakeastepback.
Arushofwarmairstirredtheedgesofmyrobe.MyfingersslippedawayfromthesashasIwentcompletelystill,holdingmybreath.Thenapeofmynecktingled.Theairofthechambershifted,thickenedandbecameelectrified,remindingmeoftheatmosphererightbeforelightningstruck.
Iwasn’taloneintheutter,unnaturaldarkness.Thebreathinmylungsleftmeinoneraggedexhaleasanacuteawarenesspressedagainsttheentirerightsideofmybody.ItwaslikeIwassuddenlystandingtooclosetoopenflames.Instinctkickedin,notthekindfueledbymyabilitiesbutthekindfueledbypureneedtosurvive.ItscreamedthatIflee.
Mytremblinglipspartedtospeakormaybescream,butbeforeasinglesoundcouldescape,anarmcamearoundmywaist,jerkingmebackagainstahardwallofmuscle.Iwaslifteduntilmyfeetnolongertouchedthefloor—untiltheydangledseveralinchesfromthefloor.
TherewasnomortalIknewwhocouldliftmesoeasily,andthatcouldonlymean—
“Ihavetwoquestions,andeachanswerbetterbehonest,”adeepvoicedrawled,hiscadenceofspeechalmostrelaxedbutthetonelowinwarning,atthesameinstantawarm,callusedhandpressedontheexpanseofskinabovemybreasts,forcingmybackagainsta…achest.“Whatareyoudoinginmyquarters?”Breathstirredthewispsofhairatmytemple.“Anddoyouhaveadeathwish?”CHAPTER13
AHyhborn.
TheBaronhadsentmetothequartersofafreakingHyhborn.
AndnotjustanyHyhborn.Him.
LordThorne.
Igraspedhisforearm.Myfingersmetsmooth,crisplinen.TheholdonmewasnothinglikewhenMurielhadgrabbedme,butitstillcausedpanictoripplethroughme.
“That’snotananswer,”LordThornechidedsoftly.
Thenhemoved.
Intwosteps,hehadmepinned,mycheekplasteredagainstthewallandmyarmstrapped.Hisstrengthwasterrifying,sendingmypulseintoafranticpace.Ipushedbackagainsthim,tryingtolowermyfeettothefloor.Hepressedin,thefulllengthofhisbodyencagingmine.
“Isuggestthatyoutryagain,”hesaid,hischeekgrazingmine.“You’regettingaveryrare,verygenerousoffer.Isuggestyoudon’tthrowitaway.”
“It’sme,”Isaid.“We’ve—”
“Iknowit’syou,”heinterrupted,andmyeyeswentwide.“Butthatdoesn’tanswermyquestions,na’laa.”
Ittookmeaheartbeattoremember.“Iwassenttoyou.”
“By?”Thearmatmywaistshifted,andIfelthishandopenalongthesideofmywaistandhisfingerspressintothethinrobe.
“BaronHuntington.Hesaidyouwereexpectingcompany.”
LordThornewentincrediblystillbehindme.Ididn’tevenfeelhischestriseagainstmyback.“Iwasexpectingnoone.”
Myeyesslammedshutasangerboiled.FuckingClaude.Washethathighordrunkthathehadn’tthoughttowarnmethathewassendingmetoaHyhbornlordandnotachancellor?Ortoevenpreparehimformyarrival?IfIdidn’tendupdeadtonight,IverywellmightkillClaudeforthis.
Thehandabovemychestmoved—thesamehandI’dseenincinerateaHyhborn—andslidtothebaseofmythroat.“And?”
Iblinked,toescurlingintheemptyair.“And…what?”
Histhumbandforefingerbegantomovealongthesidesofmythroatinsoft,almost…gentlesweeps.“Andthereisonemorequestion,na’laa.”
“Don’tcallmethat,”Isnapped.
“Butit’sstillsofittingandIenjoyhowannoyedyougetwhenIcallyouit,”hemurmured,andmymouthdroppedopen.“What’syouranswertomysecondquestion?”
Onemorequestion?Whatwashe—Doyouhaveadeathwish?Mylipspeeledbackasthatangerflameddeepinme.“No,Idon’thaveadeathwish.”Whatcameoutofmymouthnextweren’tmywisestwords.“Butperhapsyoudo.”
“Me?”Thosefingersstillmoved,creatingawarmfrictionthatwas…thatwasoddlyanddistressinglysoothing.“I’mcuriousastohowIhaveadeathwish.”
“I’mafavoriteoftheBaron’s,”Isaid.“Hewouldbemostdispleasedifyouweretobreakme.”
LordThornewassilentforwhatfeltlikeasmalleternity,andthenhelaughed.Heactuallylaughed,anditwasadeep,huskysoundthatreverberatedthroughmemuchlikethatanimalisticsoundhe’dmade.“Well.”Hedrewthewordout,thosefingersstillingatmythroat.“Iwouldn’twanttodispleasethehonorablebaron.”
Inanyothersituation,onewhereIwasn’tbeingheldwhathadtobeatleastafootofftheground,Iwould’veappreciatedthemockerydrippingfromhistone.
“I’minterestedthough.WhatwouldtheBarondo?”Thefingersslippedfrommythroattojustbelowtheshallowindentbetweenmycollarbones.Thefeelofhistouchthereandthepalmthatrestedjustabovemystillwildlybeatingheartwasajolttomyalreadyscatteredsenses.“IfIdidbreaka…favoriteofhis?”
Mymouthopenedbutnothingcameout.WhatcouldtheBarondoifhedecidedtoharmme?Evenasacaelestia,therewasabsolutelynothing,whichwaswhyClaudesendingmetotheHyhbornlordlikethiswassounbelievable.
“Hewould…”Isighed.“Hewouldpout.”
Thatdeeplaughcameagain,rumblingalongmybackandrear,causingmytoestocurlevenfurther.Hewasholdingmeentirelytooclose.“Iwouldn’twantthattohappen.”
ThenLordThornereleasedme,buthedidsoslowly.Painstakinglyslowly.Isliddowntheentirelengthofhim,anditwasawholelotoflength.Iwasuncomfortablyawareofhowtherobehadsnagged,catchingbetweenourbodies,and…andthefeelofhim.Therewassimplyalotofhim.Bythetimemyfeethitthefloor,mylegswereexposedallthewaytothethighs.Luckily,thechamberwasstilldark,butnotasfathomlessasbefore.
“Wekeepmeetingunderthestrangestcircumstances,”henoted.“I’mbeginningtothinkfateisafoot.”
“Fate?”Ilaughed.“Youbelieveinfate?”
“Youdon’t?”
HowcouldIwhenIknewthatthefuturewasn’talwayssetinstone—thateverydecision,nomatterhowsmallorunimportant,couldhaveadominoeffect?“No.”
“Interesting.”Hisarmbetweenmybreastsvanished,buttheoneatmywaiststillheldmeagainstthefrontofhisbody.
Secondstickedby,andIbecameawareofthathandalongthecurveofmywaistmovinginslow,tightcirclesthattuggedonthesash.“Areyou…areyougoingtoletmego?”
“Idon’tknow,”hesaidafteramoment.
Istaredatthedarkwall.“Youdon’t?”
“Ilikethefeelofyouagainstme.”
Okay,that…thatwasnotwhatIwasexpecting.“I’mnotsurehowI’msupposedtobeofservicetoyouifyoucontinuetoholdme.”
Hischingrazedthetopofmyhead.“Thisisservicingme.”
“I’mnotsurehowthat’spossible.”
“Ifyou’reoneoftheBaron’sfavoritesandhesentyoutoserviceme,”hesaid,“thenyouknowexactlyhowyouareservicingmeatthemoment.”
Ibitdownonmylip,atoncerecognizingthatIwasintrouble,bigtrouble,andIdidn’tthinktheLongNightwasgoingtohelpgetmeoutofit.Itworkedonacaelestia,butIhadnoideaifitworkedonaHyhborn.Naomihadneveruseditonone.She’dneverwantedto.Eitherway,attemptingtodrugLordThornewasfartoomuchofarisk.Ifitdidn’tworkonhimandhesomehowrealizedwhatI’dattemptedtodo,Iwouldn’thavetoworryaboutendinguponthestreets.I’dbedead.
Hell,Ididn’tevenknowifmyabilitiesworkedonHyhborn.Ihadn’teventriedtoreadhimlastnightandIhadpickedupnothingfromthefirstnight,butthenagain,Ihadbeendistracted.Imanagedtoquietmythoughtsandemptymymind.Ireacheddown,findinghishandinthedarkness.Mymindwasanopen,blankfield.
Isaw…Isawnothingbutwhite.
AndIheardnothingbutstatic.
ButIfeltrelief—aburstofmyownrelief,becauseIwasreallybeginningtothinkthatIcouldstilltouchhimwithoutbeingbombardedwithanything.Ispreadmyfingersalongthetopofhishand,followingtheelegantstretchesofboneandtendon.Thiswas…thiswasbadandyetgood—butgoodinaveryshort-termmanner.
Knotsofuneaseformedinmystomach.PerhapsIhadtotryharder.OrmaybeitwasbecauseIwasn’tlookinguponhim.Thetipsofmyfingersslippedoverhisknuckles.Hishandhadgonestillbeneathmine.Hisskin…itwassohard.I’dknownthatitwouldn’tfeellikeamortal’s.AHyhborn’sfleshwasdifferent.Itwaswhymostweaponscouldn’tpenetratetheirskin,butIhadn’texpectedittofeelthishardandsmooth.Wasallofhimlikethis?Likeallofhim—
“DidIhurtyou?”LordThorneasked.
“What?”Iwithdrewmyhandfromhis.
“DidIhurtyoujustnow?Iwasroughwithyou.”
He’daskedthatquestionaftergrabbingmeinthebarn,butitstillcaughtmeoffguard.“Youonlystartledme.”Itoldthetruth.“Ifyouknewitwasme,whydidyougrabme?Ordoyoualwaysgrabwomenwhoenteryourchambers?”
Hesnorted.“Atonetime,Iwelcomedsoftandshapelywomenenteringmychambers,expectedornot,butthatwasbeforemorethanonehadcomeintopossessionofaluneabladeandenteredmychamberswiththeintentionsofdrawingmybloodandenrichingthemselves.”
Isupposedafterwhatherecentlyexperienced,Itoowouldreactfirstandaskquestionslater.“Atthispoint,youhavetoknowthatIhavenointerestinyourblood,bodyparts,or—”
“Mycome?”LordThornetackedon.“Ithinkthathaschangedsincewefirstspokeofit.”
Ibrieflyclosedmyeyes.“AreyoureadytoreleasemesothatIcanbetterserviceyou?”Iasked.“Andperhapsturnonalight?”
Hischingrazedthetopofmyheadoncemore.“IbelieveI’mreadytobeserviced.”
Ididn’tknowwhatIshouldbemoreconcernedaboutinthatmoment.Thathisarmremainedaroundmywaistorthathemade“serviced”soundlikethemostdecadent,wickedwordevertobespoken.
Hislipssuddenlybrushedagainstmytemple,causinganunexpectedhitchinmybreath.“Butjusttobeclear,na’laa,ItrustyourbaronlessthanIdotheoneswhocreatedthenix.Nomatterwhataidyouhavegivenme,ifyoutryanything,Iwon’thesitatetoretaliate.”Hisarmtightenedaroundme.“Doyouunderstandme?”CHAPTER14
Myskinhadgonecoldasmythoughtsflashedtothesmallpouchinmypocket.ThiswasthekindofHyhbornlordIexpected.Icy.Deadly.Notteasingandlaughing,claimingtobeaprotector.ItwasagoodreminderofexactlywhatIwasdealingwith.“Iunderstand.”
“I’mrelievedtohearthat.”Hismouthtouchedmytempleagain.“I’dhatetohavetoendyouwhenI’vebeenquite…enthralledbyyou.”
Hesoundedlikethatsurprisedhim,asitdidme.Iwasn’tsureIlikedtheideaofenthrallinganyone,letaloneaHyhbornwho’dthreatenedmylife.“Ithinkyou’veconfusedbeingenthralledwithamusingyourselfbyirritatingme.”
“Possibly,”heremarked.“Idofindpleasureinthat.”Hepaused.“Na’laa.”
Isighed.
LordThornethenreleasedme,andthesuddenfreedomcausedmetostumble.Hishandscurvedbrieflyaroundmyupperarms,steadyingme.Whenheletgothistime,Iwasexpectingit,butIcouldstillfeelthe…theheatofhimstandingbehindmeasthewallsconcesflickeredtolife,thetwoframingthedoorwayandonenearthebathingchamber.
He’ddonethatwithoutmoving,insteadusingtheveryairwebreathedtoflipaswitchonawallseveralfeetaway.
Isuckedinashallowbreath.EventhoughIknewhewasaHyhbornlordandI’dseenwhathewascapableof,hispowerwasstillasshockingasClaudeexpectingmetogaininformation—tomanipulateitoutofsuchapowerfulbeing.
Panicthreatenedtotakerootandspread,butIcouldn’tallowit.Ineededtopullmyselftogether.Itwasn’tjustmyliferidingonit.
Takingamomenttocalmmyheartandmind,Ifixedasmileonmyface.“It’sagoodthingIcannotturnlightsonwithouttouchingthem,”Isaid,turningaround.“Iwouldneverrisefroma…”
Wordsfailedmeasmygazecrawleduplonglegsandstronghipsencasedinsuppledarkbrownleather,theloosedarktunicandtheleatherofhisbaldriccrossingthebroadchestIhadalreadyknownhehad.AdaggerIhadn’tfeltwassheathedandstrappedflat.Seeinghimnowinthelightofthechamber,whereIcouldgetabetterlookathim,leftmeunsteady.
“You’restaring.”Onesideofthosefulllipsroseashewalkedtowardanarrowtablebytheentrytothebedchamber.
Feelingmycheekswarm,Iorderedmyselftopullittogether.“You’re…nicetostareat,asI’msureyou’rewellaware.”
“Iam,”hesaidwithoutanounceofarrogance.Itwasjustastatementoftruth.Hewithdrewadaggerfromthebaldricandthenanotherfromasheathabovehiship.Thereweredualflashesofmilky-whitebladebeforeheplacedthemonthetable.Luneablades.
“Thatwasn’ttheonlyreasonIwasstaring,”Iadmittedafteramoment.“Iwas…Iwasworriedaboutyou.”
Aneyebrowroseashishandshaltedalongtheothersideofhiswaist.“Forwhatreason?”
“IheardtherewasaviolentbattleinthegardensthenightIlastsawyou.Theni’meres.”Iwatchedhimslideanotherbladefromhisotherhip.“Afewoftheguardswerekilled.”
“Theirlosswasunfortunate.Adamnshamethatshouldn’thavehappened,”hesaid,andhesoundedgenuine.“ButIwasnotharmed.”Apause.“AndIwouldnotcallthatabattle,na’laa.”
“Thenwhatwouldyoucallit?”
“Aninconvenience.”
Iblinked,thinkingthatsomethingwhichresultedinscatteredbodypiecescouldnotbeconsideredjustaninconvenience.ButwhatIthoughtdidn’tmatter.Ifocusedonhim,openingmysenses.IpicturedthatstringconnectingusasIasked,“Why…whydidtheycome?WasitbecauseoftheothertwoHyhborn?”
Nothing.
Nothingbutthehumofthewhitewall.
Heeyedmeforamoment.“Whatdoyouknowabouttheni’meres,na’laa?”
Hisnicknameseveredtheconnection.TheonlyknowledgethatIgainedwasthatheseemedunawareofwhatI’dbeentryingtodo.“Notmuch.Tobehonest,Ididn’tknowtherewereanyinPrimvera.Ionlyknewthattheytendtoleavepeoplealoneaslongaswedon’tgonearwheretheyarenesting.”
“That’strue,buttheycanalsoserveasguardsofHyhborn,evenbecomeloyaltosome,whichappearstohavebeenthecaseforeitherNathanielorMuriel.”
“Didtheni’merestravelwiththemor…”
“BothwerefromPrimvera,”heanswered,browsknitting.
Mystomachtumbledabit.LordThornehadkilledtwoHyhbornandlikelymanyni’meresfromtheCourtthatcouldbeseenfromsomepartsoftheproperty.“IimaginePrinceRainerwillbedispleased.”
“Actually,Iimaginehe’llbequitetheopposite.”HecontinuedbeforeIcouldaskwhythatwouldbe.“So,yourbarondidn’tadviseyouofwhosechamberyou’dbeentering?”
Hischangeofsubjectnotonlyfailedtopassmeby,butalsofrustratedmeasmysenseswerecurrentlyprovingtobeofnohelp.“No.”Iwasmomentarilydistractedashepulledfreeanotherdaggerthathadbeenstrappedalonghiswaist.Mylipspartedashereachedback,slidinga…asilver-hiltedsteelsword,thekindwiththeslightcurvetothebladeandoftencarriedbythelawmenwhopatrolledtheBoneRoadthattraveledallfiveterritories.
“You’relucky,youknow.”LordThornebent,hislongfingersreachingforstrapsIhadn’tseenalongtheshaftsofhisboots.Heunhookedanotherdagger,tossingitontothetable.Itlandedwithathump,rattlingtheotherweapons.
“I…Iam?”
“Yes.”Hemovedtotheotherboot,andyetanothersheatheddaggercamefree.“You’reluckythatmymenweren’therewhenyouentered.Youwould’veneverreachedthisspace.”
Iglancedintotheantechamber.
“They’renothere.TheyarrivedroughlyaroundthetimeIhadyoupinnedtothewall,”hesaid,andmygazedartedbacktohim.Theyhad?“They’regonenow.We’realone.”
“Oh.”ThatwasallIcouldsayasIwatchedhimshoveupthesleeveofhisleftarm,revealingyetanothersheathalongthetopofhisforearm.“Howmanyweaponsdoyouhaveonyou?”
“Justenough,”heremarked,placingthatsmaller,sheathedbladeonthetable.
“Butwhy?You’realord.Youcan—”Istoppedmyselffrompointingoutwhatheobviouslyalreadyknew.“Whywouldyouneedsomanyweapons?”
Helaughedsoftly.
“What?”Iasked.“What’sfunny?”
“AbetterquestiontoaskwashowIwasfoolishenoughtonotrealizeI’dbeendruggedandimpaledtoatableinadirtybarn.”
Isnappedmymouthshut.
Awrygrinappearedashemovedtothebed,sittingonitsedge.“Nobeingissopowerfulthattheycannotbecomeweak.Notevenalord,aprince,oraking.”
“Okay.”Ithoughtoverwhathesaid.“Couldyounotjustdothewholefirethingwithyourhandagain?”Iasked,andimmediatelyrecognizedthatwasaquestionIneverthoughtI’deverask.
“Thewholefirethingwithmyhand?”Hechuckled,watchingmeashereachedforhisboot.He’dwatchedmethisentiretime.Notoncehadhisgazestrayedfrommeasheunloadedhissmallarsenal.“Icouldsummontheelementoffire,butthattakesdivus.”
“Divus?”Mynosewrinkled.“Thatis…Enochian?Whatdoesitmean?”
“Itcanbelooselytranslatedinto‘energy,’andspentenergymustbereplenished,”heexplained,anditseemedlogicalthathespokeoffeeding.“Plus,thatwouldonlykillonelesspowerfulthanthesummoner.”
Meaningitwouldn’thavebeensolethalagainstanotherlord.
“Themortalweaponsaren’tnecessary,”hecontinued.“Butsometimesit’smoreinterestingtofightthefairerwaywhenitcomestomortals.”
“Versusrippingtheirthroatsout?”
“Thatisalsointeresting.”Hestraightened,nowbarefoot.
Iwetmylipsnervously—
LordThorne’sgazefixedonmymouth.Whitestarsflickeredthroughhispupils,andmuchlikeharesdidinthegardenswheneverIgrewtooclose,Ifroze.Hisstarewas…itwasintenseand…andheated.Aflushcrawledupmythroat.I’dneverbeenlookedatlikethatbefore,notevenbythosewhobelievedtheyweremomentsfromjoiningtheirbodieswithmine.
Hecameforward,hisstepsslowandmeasured.Preciseinawhollyunsettlingway.Ashivercourseddownmyspine.Hisgazedropped.Thesashatmywaisthadeitherloosenedduringourstruggleorwhenhe’dbeenmovinghisfingersoverit,causingthecutofthenecklinetobedeeper,wider.Theinnerswellsofmybreastswereclearlyvisible,allthewaytothedarkershadeatthepeaks.Slowly,hisgazereturnedtomine.Theblueofhisirisesseepedintothegreen.
“Whenyousaidthemanorwasyourhome,Ifiguredyouwereamemberofthearisto,”henoted.
Isnorted.“Whywouldyouthinkthat?”
“Yourclothing.BothtimesI’veseenyou,you’vebeendrapedinthekindofexpensiveclothamemberofalessfortunateclasswouldn’tspendcoinon.”
“You’rerightaboutthat,”Isaid.“ButI’mnoaristo.”
“Isee.”Hisheadtiltedashisgazeflickedovermyface.“AndIcanalsoseewhyyou’dbeafavoriteoftheBaron.Youarevery…interesting.”
Thecornersofmylipstippeddown.“Wasthatsupposedtobeacompliment?”
“Itshouldbe,”hesaid.“I’veneverfoundamortaltobeallthatinterestingorenthralling.”Hisheadtilted.“Oramusing.”
Mybrowsshotup.“ThenIdon’tthinkyou’vemetmanylowborn.”
“I’veknownfartoomany,”herepliedashewenttoasmallcredenzasituatednearawindow.Iwonderedwhathisagewas.Heappearedasifhecouldn’tbemorethanadecadeolderthanme,ifthat,butHyhborndidn’tagelikelowborn,andtherewasaheavinesstohiswords—anancientweighttothem.
“So…youfindlowbornboring?”Iasked.
“That’snotwhatIsaid.”Hepickedupacrystaldecanterandpouredhimselfaglassoftheamberliquid.“Wouldyoulikeaglass?”
Ishookmyhead.
Hepickeduphisglass.“Ifindyourkind’snaturalinstinctforsurvivalinthefaceofinsurmountableoddsadmirable.Tobehonest,I’mfascinatedbyhoweverysecondofeveryminutecountsinawayIdon’tbelievetheyevercouldforoneofmyown.LifeisabitofaboreforaHyhborn.Idoubtthesamecouldbesaidaboutamortal.”Facingme,LordThornetookadrink.“Butonehasneverinterestedmebeyondthatfleetingfascination.”
Iwasn’tsurewhattosaytothatasIletmysensesreachouttohimonceagain.Therewasnothingbutthathummingwhitewall.Whatifmyabilitiesdidn’tworkonaHyhborn?
Hewatchedmefromabovetherimofhisglass.“IrealizeIdon’tknowyourname.”
“Lis.”
“Isitshortforsomething?”
Ididn’tknowwhy,butInodded.“Calista.”
“Calista,”hemurmured.
Mybreathsnaggedatthesoundofmyname.Possiblybecauseitwassoraretohearitspoken,asonlyGradyknewit,butthewayhesaid“Calista”…HetwistedhistonguearoundmynameinawayI’dneverheardbefore.
Hetookadrink.“Ittooisfitting.”
“Itis?”Imurmured,utterlyconfoundedbythefactthatI’dsharedthatpieceofinformation—somethingthatI’dkepttomyselfbecauseitwastheonlythingthatwaspurelymine,assillyasthatsounded.
“Yes.Doyouknowwhatitmeans?”
“Thenamehasameaning?”
“Allnamesdo.”Afaintsmileappeared.“Calistameans‘mostbeautiful.’”
Warmthcreptupmythroat.“Oh.”
Heinclinedhishead,thenfinishedoffthewhiskeyandsettheglassdown.“IwouldlikeabathsinceIhavesuch…fondmemoriesofhowwemet.”
Butthatwasn’thowwemet.Notreally.“Okay?”
Afaintgrinappeared.“Youhavebeensenttoserviceme,correct?”Hefacedmefully.“Woulddrawingmybathnotbeapartofthat?”
Yes.Yes,itwould,andIfeltfoolishfornotrealizingthatimmediately.Iopenedmymouthashereachedback,graspingthenecklineofhislinenshirt.WhateverIwasgoingtosaydiedonmytongueashepulledtheshirtoverhisheadandcastitaside.
IinhaledsoftlyasIeyedhischest,theslabsoftightlycoiledmusclesofhisabdomen,andthetaperingofhiswaistabovethebandofhispants.Therewasn’tevenafaintscarfromwheretheluneaspikeshadpiercedhisskin.Instead,powervibratedfromeveryinchofmuscle.Energycoatedthosedefinedlines.
“Orwecanskipthebathandgostraighttofarmoreenjoyableformsofserviceifyouwant,”LordThorneoffered,snappingmygazetohisface.“Iwillnotmindatall.”
Ipivoted,hurryingintothebathingchamberwithoutsayingasingleword.
Hislow,huskychucklefollowed.
Goodgods,whatkindoffavoredcourtesandashedoutofthechamberatthemeresuggestionofsex?Andthatwasobviouslywhathebelievedmetobe.Afterall,itwashowIpresentedmyselftoallofClaude’stargets,butIwasactinglikeabashfulvirgin.
Whatwaswrongwithme?Itwasn’tlikeIhadn’tseenhimnudebefore.Itjust…Everythingfeltdifferentnow.
Cursingmyreaction,andwell,everything,Ireachedtofliponthelightonlytorealizetherewerenopoweredlightsinthisspace.Iquicklysetaboutlightingthenumerouscandlesspacedonthestoneledgescirclingtheoval-shapedchamber.Willingmyhandstostoptrembling,Iwenttothedeepandwidetubinthecenteroftheroom.Icrankedthewateruntilitpouredintotheporcelainbasin,usingthesemomentstocollectmyself.
WhoLordThornewastome—notthathewasanythingtome—didn’tmatter.Neitherdidthefactthathe’dyettorecognizeme.Nordidhow…nicehewastolookat,butthatwasratherasmallblessing,wasn’tit?Orlargeblessing.TheonlythingthatmatteredwasthatIneededtogetittogether,tofindsomelevelofcalm.Concentrate.EitherClaudewastoostonedtoconsiderthatmyabilitieswouldn’tworkonaHyhbornorheobviouslybelievedmyabilitiescould,andmaybehewouldknowthat,beingthathedescendedfromthem,but…
Butwouldn’tthatalsomeanheknewanotherwhocoulddothesameasme?WhichIwaspositivehedidn’t.
Eitherway,Ineededtogetmyintuitiontowork,tocontinuetoprovehowindispensableIwastotheBaron.Thatkeepingmecomfortablewasapriority,becauseifnot…
Theever-presentfearofreturningtothatdesperatekindoflifethreatenedtotakerootinmychest,butIsquashedit.Givingintoitwouldn’thelp.Ishiftedfocus.Therewasthis…thissensethatIcouldgetinsidetheHyhborn’smind.AknowledgeIcouldn’tbackupbutwastherenonetheless.ItwasintuitiontellingmethatIcould.Ijustneededtofigureouthow.
ButIdidknowwhathe’dsharedwithmealready.Thathewasherebecausehe’dbeenlookingforsomethinghe’dbelievedthatMurielknewhowtolocate.However,Iwasn’tsureifthatwaswhyhewashere,atthemanor.ThatwaswhatIneededtodiscover.
Testingthewater,IhopedLordThornelikeditwarmasIcutoffthefaucet.Irosetoretrieveatowel,toplaceitonthenearbystoolasIsaid,“Yourbathisready,mylord.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected.
Igavealittlejumpathowclosehisvoicewas.Howoneofhissizecouldmovesosilentlystillwasbeyondme.Pickingupafluffytowel,Iturnedandnearlydroppedit.
Awickedsenseofdéjàvusweptthroughme.Oncemore,LordThornestoodinthedoorway,andhewascompletely,utterlynaked,andIwastransfixedbythedisplayofsmooth,sandyskinandtautmuscleasmygazeloweredtohiscock.Mybreathcaught.Hewasthickandlong,yetnotevenfullyaroused.Howcouldonefullytakehim—
Allright.Ineededtostopthinking.Andstaring.Maybeevenbreathing.Perhapsdyingwouldbeagoodchoiceatthemoment.
“KeeplookingatmelikethatandIdon’tthinkabathwillbewhatI’llneed.”
HeatexplodedinmycheeksasIforcedmygazetohis,hopingthatinthecandlelighthecouldn’tseehowredmyfacefelt.Ididn’tthinkcourtesansblushedatanudeman.
Thenagain…
IglancedquicklyatthethicklengthbetweenhislegsanddecidedthatevenNaomiprobablywouldrightnow.
“Areyousurethisiswhatyouwish?”
Suckinginasharpbreath,Ilookedupathim.“I’msorry?”
“Tobeofservicetome?”LordThorneclarified.“WhenI’mnotinjured?”
“Yes.”Ifixedasmileonmyface.“Ofcourse.”
“Andyouunderstandwhatthatentails?ThatIwillseekpleasureandIwillfeedonit?”
Thewayhesaidthatmadethissoundlikeabusinessarrangement,andperhapsthatwastheappropriatewaytothinkofthis.Afterall,wasn’tthatwhatthiswas?Butitdidn’tfeellikethatatallasInodded.
Heeyedmeforseveralmoments,hisstarepiercing,asifhecouldseerightthroughme—throughwhatwaspartiallyafacade.Myheartwaspoundingsohard,Iwassurehecouldhearit.Ididn’tdarelookawayorletmysmilefalter,didn’twanttogiveawayhownervousIwas.
Thenhestrodeforward,completelyateasewiththefactthatnotasinglestitchofclothingcoveredhim.Hebrieflycaughtmygazeagainashesteppedintothetubandsankintothewater,givingmeaniceviewofaratherfirmrear.
Hisasstrulywasextraordinary.
LordThornehummedasoundofpleasure,drawingmygazedown.He’dlethisheadrestagainsttherimofthetub.Withhiseyesclosed,Iletmyselftakeintheelegantfeaturesofhisfaceandthedisplayofhisbody.Itwastrulyunfairthatanybeingcouldlookas…asdecadentasmy—Nope.Damnit,hewasnotmyanything.Ireally,reallyneededtostopwiththatnonsense.
Refocusing,Iglancedaroundthechamberandspiedthesoap.“Wouldyoulikemetobatheyou?”
“Itwouldpleasemegreatlyifyouwould.”
Iplacedthetowelbackonthestool.
“AndIknowitwillpleaseyougreatlytodoso,”headded.
Itwould,andthefactthatherememberedthatannoyedme.AlsoexcitedmeasIwenttooneofthenumerousshelves.Ipickedupabarofsoapthatcarriedthefaintscentoflemongrass.Turning,Isawthathiseyeswereopentothinslitsandbotharmslayontheedgeofthetub.HewatchedmecloselyasIapproachedhim.Icouldfeelthis…thistensioncracklingbetweenus,electricandalive.Aflutterofuneaseand…andsomethingelsestartedinmychestandmovedlower.
“Isthewatertoyourliking?”Ikneltonthemarblefloorbehindthetub.
“Very,”hereplied,andthefluttermovedagainatthatoneword.
Iplacedthesoaponthesmallmetalcaddybesideme.Handslathered,Ireachedforhisarm.
Hegavealittlejerkwhenmyhandstouchedhim,likehe’ddoneintheshower.OrIdidthistime.Maybewebothdid.Iwasn’tsureasheliftedhisarmformeandIdrewmyhandsup,hopinghedidn’tnoticethefainttremorinthem.
Silencingmyownthoughtswasharderthanbefore,butImanaged.Likebefore,I…Iheardnoneofhisthoughts.TherewasagoodchanceIwassimplytoodistractedoncemorebyhowhardandsmoothhisskinwas.Itwasalmostlikegranite.Didallofhim—
Nope.
Wasnotgoingthere.
“Tellmesomethingaboutyourself,”LordThornesaid,theroughnessofhisvoicedrawingmygazefromhisarm.Hisheadwasstillrestingagainsttherim,eyesclosed.
“Likewhat?”Iasked.
“Anything,”heanswered.“Thesilenceallowsmymindtowandertowhatyourhandswillfeellikeonmydick.”
Myhandshaltedathiselbowforhalfaheartbeatasasuddensharp,twistingmotionpulsedthroughme.Alittlebreathless,Iresumedtracingthelengthofhisstrongarm.“Isthatsomethingyouwishtopreventyourmindfromwanderingto?”
Thecornersofhislipstippedup.“Notnormally;however,I’vecometolearnthatIenjoyyoubathingme,andIdonotwishtorushit.”
Skinflushingwithaheatthatnowcamefromwithin,Islippedmyhandsoverhisshoulderandthendownonesideofhischest.“I’mnotsurewhattotellyou,mylord.”
“Ourpathshavenowcrossedthreetimes,”hesaid,andImentallycorrectedhim.Fourtimes.Ourpathshadcrossedfourtimes.“Yet,Iknowlittleaboutyou.Youcanstartwithsomethingeasy.LikeareyoufromArchwood?”
“No.”Myslipperyfingersslidoverthestonelikeskinofhisupperstomach.
“TheMidlandsatall?”
IconsideredlyingbutdecidedagainstitasIre-latheredmyhands.“I’mfromthesouthernlands.”
“TheLowlands?”
“Closeabout.”Thatwassomewhatofalie.UnionCityexistedontheborderoftheLowlandsandMidlands.Idraggedmyteethovermylowerlip.“Whereareyoufrom?”
“Vytrus.”
Myheartskippedoveritself.VytruswastheHyhbornCourtnestleddeepintheHighlands,thenorthernmostterritoryofCaelumandincrediblyfarfromtheMidlands,andyet,weallknewofthePrinceofVytrus.HewassaidtobeoneofthemostdangerousofHyhborn,unpredictableandvolatileasthelandsthatheprotected,andthehandoftheKing’swrath.TheKing’s…
I’moneoftheKing’sfavorites,incaseyou’veforgotten.
ThebreathItookwentnowhereasIstaredatthebackofhisheadandasuddensenseofknowingfilledme.“ThePrinceofVytrus?”Iwhispered.“Whatishisname?”
Heturnedhisheadslightly.Amomentpassed.“Youalreadyknowit.”CHAPTER15
Afainttremorranthroughmyarms.“You’renotalord.”
“No,Iamnot.”
Heartleaping,IjerkedmyhandsbackasifI’dbeenscaldedwhileonechaoticthoughtcrashedintoanother.I’dbeentouchingaHyhbornprince.ThePrinceofVytruswasmyHyhborn.Thedangerous,deadlybeingI’drescuedandwascurrentlybathingwasaprince.Ohmygods,Finnandthosefoolshadbledandtorturedaprince,almost—
“Finally,”he…PrinceThornemurmured.
Ijolted.“Finallywhat?”
Hefacedforward.Amomentpassed.“You’reafraid.”
Iblinkedrapidly.WasIafraid?Whowouldn’tbe,but…“Youletmebelieveyouwerealord.”
“Idid.”Hisshouldershadtensed.“Isthatwhyyou’renowafraid?BecauseyouknowwhoItrulyam?”
“I’m…I’malittleuneasy.You’reaprinceandyouhavequitethe…”
“Reputation?”hefinishedforme.
“Yes.”
Hisfingerstappedalongtherim.“Youshouldn’tbelieveeverythingyouhear,na’laa.”
“Sure,”Ireplied.“Imean,youcantakealowborn’ssoul.”
“JustbecauseIcan,doesn’tmeanIhave.”
Mybrowsshotup.“You’vecreatednoRae?”
“Notinaverylongtime.”
Ifrownedatthebackofhishead.Thewayhesaidthat…“Exactlyhowoldareyou?”
Hechuckled.“OlderthanIlook.Youngerthanyou’reprobablythinking.”
Well,thatwasalsoincrediblyvague,butastheshockofhisactualidentitylessenedandmyheartcalmed,IrealizedI…Iwasn’tafraidofhim.Iwasmoreafraidofwhathewasandwhyhewashere.TherewasnowaytheKingwould’vesentthePrinceofVytrustocollecttithes.HewashereforanotherreasonthatIwasn’tsurehadanythingtodowiththeinformationhe’dsoughtfromMuriel.Myheartstartedpoundingagain.WhenthePrinceofVytrusactedonthebehalfofKingEuros,violenceanddestructionalmostalwaysfollowed.
MythroatdriedasIforcedmyselftopullittogetheroncemore.Iresumedservicinghim,givingafineshiverasmyhandsoncemoremadecontactwithhim.“WhyhaveyounotcreatedanyRaeinalongtime?”
“Becauseit…seemsunfairtodothattoasoul.”
Ididn’tknowwhattosaytothat.Itwasn’tfair.Frankly,itwasdisturbing,butIhadn’texpectedanyHyhborntothinkthat,letaloneaprince.“I’mrelievedtohearthat.”
Hesaidnothingtothat.
Ieyedthetenselineofhisshoulderandarmsanddecidedtochangethesubject.“You’reveryfarfromhome.”
“Iam.”
Openingmymindtohis,Isawandfeltthatwhitewall.Itwaslikestandingwithmyfacetothesunonawarmsummerday.“ThisinformationthatyousoughtfromMuriel?Isthatwhyyou’rehere?”
Thatwall—thatshieldofsorts—kepthismindsilentashesaid,“Partly.”
“That…soundsmysterious.”
Onesideofhislipstippedup.“Doesit?”
“Yes,”Imurmured.CouldhefeelthepoundingofmyheartagainstthebackofhisshouldersasIleanedintohim?“Yourappearanceisalsomysterious.”
“Howso?”
“OnewouldthinkwithusbeingsoclosetoPrimvera,youwouldsimplyrequestlodgingthere,”Ipointedout.
“Onewouldthinkthat,”hesaid.“However,myneedsarebettermetoutsideoftheCourt.”
Mybrowsknitted.Whatcouldthoseneedsbe?WhatevervagueanswersIgainedfromhimonlyledtomorequestions.Ileanedin,bitingdownonmylipasIdrewmyhandsoverhisflesh.
“I’mcurious,my—”Icaughtmyself.“I’mcurious,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected.“AndI’msureyouare.”
Iarchedabrowatthat.“WhatcouldyourneedsbeiftheycannotbemetwithinPrimvera?”
“Rightnow?Iwouldn’thaveyourhandsonmeifIwerethere,wouldI?”
“AsIsaidbefore,flatteryisnotnecessary.”
“Butappreciated?”
Icrackedagrin.“Always.”
Hechuckledroughly.“Howdidyouenduphere?”heasked.
Iglanceddownathim,seeingthethickfringeoflashesalonghischeeks.ThesleevesoftheborrowedrobefloatedalongthewaterasIranmysudsyhandsoverhislowerstomach.Themusclesweretauterthere,asifhe’dtensed.“Archwoodseemedasgoodaplaceasany.”
“Ididn’tmeanthecity,”heexpanded.“Buthere,inthismanorandinthischamber,a…favoriteofacaelestia.”
Airthinnedbetweenmyteeth.HewantedtoknowhowIendedupacourtesan,whichIwasn’t.Noneoftheparamourstrulywere,butIwassurethereasonsonechosesuchaprofessionvaried,soIdecidedtokeeptheanswersimple.“Ineededajob.”
“Andthiswasallthatwasavailabletoyou?”Apause.“Thisiswhatyouchose?”
Heatburnedthebackofmythroatasmyeyesnarrowedonhim.Didhelookdownonsuchaprofession?Irritationflaredtolife,andwhetherIwasacourtesanornot,theideathathethoughtlessofthetradeneedledmytemper.Istartedtoliftmyhands.“Istheresomethingwrongwithchoosingtodothis?”
HishandmovedfasterthanIcouldtrack,closingovermineandtrappingitagainsthischest.Myheartstutteredatthefeelofhishandaroundmine,andtherebeingnothoughts,noimages.Hekickedhisheadback,hiseyesmeetingmine.“IfIthoughttherewassomethingwrongwiththat,IwouldnotbewhereIamandnorwouldyou.”
Inodded,watchinghispupilsexpandandthenshrinkbacktotheirnormalsize
ThePrince’sgazeheldmine.“Ionlyaskbecauseofthewayyouspeak.Yourdialectandwords.It’snotwhatyoutypicallyhearfromonewhoisnotofthearistoclass,”henoted.“Orwithinthoseof…yourtrade.You’vebeeneducated.”
Ihadbeeneducated.Kindof.Itwasn’taformaleducationlikeGradyhadreceivedbeforehisparentsdiedofacatchingfever,leavinghimanorphan.NorhaditbeenonesanctionedbytheHyhborn,butthePrioresshadtaughtmehowtoreadandwriteandtodobasicmath,andtheBaronhadinsistedthatIspeakproperly.
ButNaomispokeproperlytoo…unlessshewasangry.ThesamecouldbesaidaboutGradyandme,andthenwe’dslipintoalessformalwayofspeaking.
“MyeducationandhowIspeakdon’tmakemebetterthananyoneelse,norlessthananaristo,”Isaid.
Hehuffed.“Whatanovelthingforamortaltosay.”
Ifrowned.“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“Frommyexperience,mortalsseempreoccupiedwithwhoisbetterandwhoislessthan.”
“AndtheHyhbornaredifferent,YourGrace?”
Hislipstwitchedattheemphasisonhistitle.“Weoncewere.”
NowitwasIwhohuffed.
“Youdon’tbelieveme?”
Ishrugged,thinkingitwasratherridiculoussincetheyweretheoneswhocreatedtheclassstructure.
“YoudoknowthatHyhborncannottellalie.”Asmileplayedoverhislips.
“SoI’veheard.”
Hechuckled,releasingmyhandashefacedforwardoncemore.IremainedasIwasforseveralmoments,mypalmstillflattohischest,towherehisheartshouldbelocated,butI…Ifeltnothing.
Mybrowsfurrowed.“Doyou…haveaheart?”
“What?”Helaughed.“Yes.”
“ButIdon’tfeelit,”Itoldhim,alittleunnerved.“Isitbecauseyourskin…issohard?”
“It’snotthat,”hesaid.“Myhearthasn’tbeatinalongtime,notasitwouldforamortal.”
Iopenedmymouth,butIwasatalossastohowtorespondtothat—atthereminderofhowdifferentwewere.Drawinginasoftbreath,IshookmyheadasIslidmyhandfromhischest.Ididn’tknowwhyIsaidwhatIdidnext.Thewordssortofspilledoutofme.“ThisisnotwhatIalwayswanttobe,”Ishared,andgoodness,thatwasthetruthifthereeverwasone.“ThisisnotthefutureIplannedasachild.”
Thefingerofhisrighthandbegantotapidlyalongtherimoncemore.“What’sthefutureyouplanned?”
“I…”Ihadtoreallythinkaboutthat.“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted,myvoicesoundingsmalltomyownears.
“Yousaidyouhadaplan,na’laa.”
Browcreasing,Ishookmyhead.IhadnoideawhyI’devensaidwhatIhad.Ihadnofutureplannedbeyondthisday,thisnight.Icouldn’twhenlivingsimplymeantsurvivingtothenextdayordreadingwhatcouldcome,whichwasn’treallylivingatall.ButthatwasallIknew.Thesameformorelowbornthannot,eveniftheyweren’tinmysituation.
ButHyhborn—especiallythoselikePrinceThorne—didn’tlivethatway.IknewthatbecauseeventhoughI’dneverenteredtheirCourts,Isawtheirgold-tippedroofshiddenbehindtheirfortifiedwalls.I’dseentheirrichlytailoredclothing,theirwell-bredhorsesandfinelycraftedcoachesfromadistance.I’dneverheardofastarvedHyhbornorseenonewithshadowsofworrystainingtheskinbeneaththeireyes.Hell,youbarelysawthatinthefaceofacaelestia.Idoubtedanyofthemknewwhatitwasliketosleepwithmicescurryingoverthemorfoundthemselvesonthevergeofdeathduetosomesicknessthey’dpickedupfrompoorlivingconditions.
Butnoneofthatmatteredrightnow…oratall,itseemed,soIshovedthosethoughtsasideasIsoapedupmyhandsagain.“Ilikeplants.”
Hisheadtilted.“Comeagain?”
Icringed,thinkingIcould’vesaidthatabitmoreeloquently.“Imean,Ihavealwayshadaninterestinplants—ingardening.Ihaveabitofagreenthumbandbasicknowledgeofhowmanyplantscanbeofaid.Iknow,abotanistisnotthemostlucrativeofcareers,”Irambledon.“Butthatwouldbeaplan.”
“Ifitissomethingyouenjoythenitislucrativeinawaythatmeansmorethancoin.”
Saidthepersonwhoobviouslyhadmorecointhantheywouldeverneed.
Iwiselykeptthattomyself,though,andneitherofusspokeforseveralmoments.Inthequiet,ItookamomenttoremindmyselfofwhatIwassupposedtobedoing,whichwasnottouchinghimforthesakeofdoingso.IfocusedonhimuntilallIsawwastheexpanseofsandyskinandallIfeltwashisfleshbeneathmine.Thewallofwhitelightappearedinmymind.Itwasendless,oneastallastheskyandwideastherealm.Inmymind,Isawmyfingersbrushingagainstit.NothinghappenedasIbroughtmyhandsbackuphischestandreachedforthesoap,noticingthefaintglowaroundhisshoulders.
Hewasfeeding.
Onmypleasure?IwasenjoyingthiseventhoughIcouldn’treadathingfromhim.Orwashefeedingonhisownpleasure—pleasurederivedfrommytouch?Itriednottofeel,well,special.Hyhbornwerebeingsofpleasure.Ididn’tthinkitmatteredwhotheywerewith.
“Isthatwhyyouweretakingsuchalate-nightwalkinthegardens?”PrinceThorneasked.“Yourenjoymentofplants?”
“Yes.Ifindgardenstobe…”Itrailedoff,searchingfortherightword.
“Peaceful?”
“Yes,butmorethanthat.”Thefeelingofbeinginagardenoroutsiderandeeperthanthat.“It’smorelike,Idon’tknow,beingat…athome.”
Hisheadturnedslightlyashelookedbackatme,hisexpressionunreadable.
“What?”
Hegaveashakeofhishead.“Nothing.”Heclearedhisthroat.“Areyouofteninthemlateatnight?”
“WhenIcan’tsleep,yes.”
“Andit’ssafeforyoutodothat?”
“Usually,”Iremarked.“Normallytherearen’tHyhbornfightinginthemorni’meres.”
Thesteamofthewaterdampenedmyskin,causingthesheerrobetoclingtomybodyasIreachedaroundhim,washingtheothersideofhischest.Ikeptmyeyestrainedonwhatexistedabovethewaterline.Whichwasdifficultenoughbecausehisskinwasfascinating.DidHyhbornnotgrowhairanywherebutfromtheirhead?Man,thatwouldbesoconvenient.
Draggingmylipbetweenmyteeth,Iplacedmyhandonhisback.Hismusclesbunchedundermypalm.Iwithdrewmyhands.“DidI—”
“It’sfine.”Hisvoiceroughened.“Pleasecontinue.”
Sudsrandownmyarms,butIdidasherequested.Ifocusedonthefeelandtextureofhisskin,pushingwithmymindagainstwhatIwasreallybeginningtobelievewasashield.Amentalone.TheonlysimilarthingIcouldthinkofwaswhatIsawwhenItriedtoreadClaudeorHymel.Theirswasgray,though.Iknewofnolow-bornwhocoulddothat,sothishadtobesomekindofHyhbornability,aweakversionofwhichhadpasseddowntothecaelestias.
Shieldscouldbecracked,though.Broken.Butonehadtobestrongtobreakashield.WasIthatstrong?
Ishiftedmyattentiontothefeelofhisskinbeneathmyhands.Itreallydidremindmeof…ofmarbleorgraniteasIwashedhisshoulders.Thisareaofhimcouldn’tgetcleaneratthispoint,butIwasenjoyingthis—touchinghimandjustfeelinghisskinbeneathmypalmswithoutimagesorthoughtsintrudinguponmine,andthatwaswrong,soverywrong,becausediscoveringhisintentionswasthewholepointofthis.
ButotherthanthenightIhelpedhimintheshower,I…Icouldn’trememberthelasttimeItouchedsomeoneoutof…ofsheerenjoymentinsteadofdoingsotogaininformationorbecausemygiftsforcedmeto.Sometimestheintuitioncompelledmetoreachouttotouchsomeone—toseeorhear—andI’dneverbeenabletodenytheurge.
Likeahandfulofyearsago,whenGradyandIhadbeeninArchwoodforonlyafewweeks,barelyscrapingbywhenahandsomeyoungmanpassedbyme.I’dbeenwaitingforthebakertoturnhisbacksoIcouldmakeagrabforthebreadIknewhewasgoingtothrowout,butmyintuitionhadseizedcontrolofme.I’dfollowedtheyoungmanoutsideandgrabbedhishandbeforeIcouldstopmyself.He’dwhippedaround,thosehandsomefeaturescontortingwithangerashedemandedthatIexplainmyself,butallIcouldseewashimwalkingdownthestreet,whereamanwithadirtybrowncapwaited—amanwhowouldgrabforthechainofthegoldtime-piecehangingfromthepocketofhisvest.Isawthismanfightingback.Iheardhisscreamsofpainasthethief’sbladesankintohisstomach.I’dtoldhimwhatI’dseeninarushandwatchedtheangerfadeintosurprisewhenIwarnedhimnottocontinuedownthestreet.
Thatyoungman,onlyafewyearsolderthanme,hadbeenClaudeHuntington,thenewlytitledBaronofArchwood.
Pullingmyselfoutofthepast,Ileanedbackandletmyhandsrestontherimofthetub.“Isthereanythingelseyouneedmyassistancewith?”
“Need?No.”Hisheadturnedtotheside.Alockofbronzehairfellagainsthischeek.“Want?Yes.Butthatwouldbeselfishofme.Iprefertobegreedy.”
“Aretheynotthesamething?”
“Notinmyopinion.Greedyisnotnecessarilyasolitaryact,”hereplied.“Joinmewhilethewaterisstillwarm.”
“I’vealreadybathed,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected,andthatcurveofhislipsdeepened,sendingmystomachtumblinginawaythatwasn’tentirelyunpleasant.“Ididn’thavebathinginmind,na’laa.”
Oh.
Oh.
Ofcoursehewouldn’thavebathingonthemindwhenhebelievedmetobeafavoredcourtesan.Ishould’veknownthattoo,butIhadneverfeltmoreinovermyheadthanIdidatthatmoment,anditquicklystruckmeastowhy.
Bythispoint,IshouldalreadybewellonmywaytodiscoveringwhateveritwasthatClaudehadrequestedtoknow,whetheritbeferretingoutacertainpieceofinformationornot.Iwasnowherenearthatpoint,andIcouldn’teventhinkofthefactthatGradywaitedformeatadiscreetdistanceinthehall.
PrinceThorne’schindipped,causingseveralmorestrandsofhairtofallagainsthisjaw.“Areyounotheretoserviceme,na’laa?”
Mybreathhitched.“Iam.”
“ThensurelyyouunderstandwhatIwouldwantfromyou.”
“Youwantto…tofeedmore?”Isurmised.
“I’malwayshungry,”hesaid,sendingashiverdancingdownmyspine.Thicklasheslifted.Thosemaddeningeyesmetmine.“ButthatisnotthesolereasonbehindwhyIwouldlikeforyoutojoinme,Calista.Itisyourchoicetodoso.”
ThinkingImight’vehallucinatedthosewords,IstaredattheHyhbornprince.Hecouldmakemetodowhateverhewanted,strippingmywilllikeLordSamrielhaddonetoGradyallthoseyearsago.Hecoulddoitandseeabsolutelynothingwrongwithdoingso,buthewasn’t.Instead,hewasaskingandhewasgivingmeachoice.Thatmatteredevenifitshouldn’tmatterenough.
Anditalsomatteredthathewantedmetojoinhimnottosolelyfeedhim.Itshouldn’t.Becausethatreallydidn’tmakethisfeellikeabusinesstransaction,butittoomattered.
AseriesoffinetremorsmovedthroughmeasIrosefromthebackofthetub,mythoughtscollidingintooneanother.WhatwasIdoing?Thinking?Hewasn’tevenalord.Hewasaprince.Iwasn’tsureasIpickedupthesoapandreturnedittotheshelf,notreallyfeelingmylegs.Mytremblinghandswenttotheloosesashatmywaist.Ididn’tneedtodothis.Icouldfindanotherreasontolinger,todiscoverhissecrets,orhecouldsendmeaway.Iwasalreadyfailingatreadinghim,soleavingnowwasn’tgoingtochangethat.
OrIcouldjoinhim.
AndIwouldhaveahigherchanceatcrackingthatshieldofhisifIwasabletotouchhim,but…
Istopped,unabletokeeplyingtomyself.
GettinginthattubwithhimhadnothingtodowithaidingmyabilitiesorprovinghowvaluableIwastotheBaron.
ItwasthefactthatIcouldtouchhimandnotseeorhearanything.Icouldjustfeel.ItwasbecauseI…Ilikedtouchinghim.
Itwasbecauseitwashim.TheHyhbornthathadbeennothingbutaghostforthelasttwelveyears,butnowwasveryrealandverymuchhere.
Asweet,headywarmthinvadedmybloodatthemereideaoftouchingmoreofhim.Ofbeingtouchedbyhim.
Still,Ihesitated.Iwasn’tworriedaboutconsequences.IknewtherewerenodiseasesthatcouldpassbetweenmortalandHyhborn,andItookprecautions,anherbtoprevent—whathadPrinceThornecalledit?Afruitfulunion?Besides,itwasincrediblyrarethatacaelestiawasevenborn.IhaltedbecauseifIgotintothetubwithhim,thingscouldquicklyspinoutofcontrol,liketheyalmosthadintheshower.Or,moreoutofcontrolthanthingsalreadyfelt.Butthatwasit.Thepartthatsentmyheartracing.Ididn’tknowifIwouldwanttoputanendtothingsiftheydidprogress
AndithadbeenafairlylongtimesinceI’ddonemorethantouch—feltmorethanmyownfingersoranother’sinsideme.
LongenoughthatIhadbeguntowonderifitwerepossibletobecomeavirginoncemore.
ButhewasthePrinceofVytrus—itwassaidthatnolowbornlivedwithinahundredmilesofhisCourt.Thatthosewhotrespassedwereneverseenagain.ButIdidn’tgettheimpressionthathedespisedlowborn.Orattheveryleast,hedidn’tspeakasifhedid.Perhapswhatwassaidofhimwasonlypartlytrue.
Itdidn’tmatter,though.
Myfingersundidthesash,mybodyandmindclearlyknowingwhattheywanted.WhatIwanted.TherobepartedandIletitslippastmyshoulders,downmyarms,andthentothefloor,whereitpooledatmyfeet.Warm,dampairteasedalreadysensitizedflesh.DarkstrandsofhairclungtothedampskinofmybreastsandbackasIturned.
ThePrincewaswatchingmethroughhalf-openeyes,hislipspartingasIapproachedhim.IthoughtI…Isawsurpriseflickeringacrosshisfeatures,butitwasgonebeforeIcouldbesure.Itverywellcould’vebeenmyimagination,butIdidseethatfaintgoldenglow.Mygazetrackedovertheradianceoutlininghisshoulders.Thesoftlightwasbeautiful—andastarkreminderofhowotherworldlyhewas.
“Ifindpleasureinlookinguponyou,”hesaid,havingnotedwhatIwasstaringat.
Ifeltastrange,sillyjumpinmychest.Ididn’tknowifhecoulddetecttheshiversthatcameandwent,buthedidn’tblink.Notonceasheliftedhishandtomine.
MypulsehammeredasIplacedmypalminhis.Long,callusedfingersclosedaroundmine.Thesimpleactofourhandsjoinedtogetherwasashock.HisgripwassteadyandfirmasIsteppedoverthesideofthetubandintothewarm,sudsywater,placingmyfeetoneithersideofhislegs.
Ibegantolowermyself,butheletgoofmyhandandclaspedmyhips.Thefeelofhishandsagainstmybarefleshwasashock,abranding.Ididn’tmove.
PrinceThornetippedhisheadback,andthoughIcouldseeonlyahintofthosestunningeyes,Icouldfeelhisstarehotandhungryagainstmyskin.Hadn’thesaidhewasalwayshungry?ButIthoughtitwasmorethanjusttheneedofallDeminyens.Theslowslideofhisperusalfeltlikeaphysicalcaressoverthewidthofmyjawandmouth,downmythroatandacrossthetinglingskinpeekingbetweenthestrandsofmyhair.Andlowerstill,overthecurveofmystomach,theflareofmyhip,and…andbetweenmythighs.
LittleairseemedtomakeitintomylungsasIstoodthere,lettingPrinceThornelookhisfill,andhedidsogreedily.
Aflushstainedmyskin.Icouldfeelit,andIwassurehecouldseeit.Itwasn’tbroughtonbyembarrassment.I’dhadmenandwomenlookuponmybody,butI’dneverhadanylookatmelikePrinceThornedid.Hegazeduponmeasifhe…hewantedtodevourme.
Ididn’tthinkIwouldmindbeingdevoured.
Hisfingerspressedintothefleshofmyhipsasheleanedin.Hewassodamntallthatevenseated,hehadtobendhisnecktopresshislipstotheskinbelowmynavel.Igaspedatthefeelofhismouththere.Thebridgeofhisnosegrazedmyskinashisheadloweredandlowered.Spreadasmylegswere,therewasnothingpreventinghisattentionfromdippingbetweenmythighs.ThemusclesinmylegslockedasIfelthiswarmbreathagainstmycenter.Iheldmybreath,staringatthetopofhishead.Ididn’tknowwhathewasaboutto—Imean,Ihadawholelitanyofthingshecoulddo,but—
PrinceThorne’slipsgrazedthesensitivefleshthere,andthenIfelthistongueslippingoverme,inmeforthebriefestsecond.Airleftmylungsasaboltofdesiresweptthroughme.Hismouthclosedaroundthetightenednubofnerves,andhesucked—suckedhard.Asoundcamefromme.AcryI’dnevermadeasanotherdartofblade-shapedpleasureslicedthroughme.
Hismouthleftme.Heleanedback,andthicklashessweptup,andItrulycouldn’tgetenoughairtoreturntomylungsthen.Dotsofwhiteappeared,sprinkledthroughouthispupils,asheleftmeaching,throbbing.
“Beautiful,”hesaid,voicesmoky.
Mychestroseandfellheavily.“Thatis…thatiskindofyoutosay.”
“It’snotkindofme.”Hetuggedonmyhips.Igraspedtheedgesofthetub,legsunsteady.WatersloshedagainstthesidesasheguidedmedownsothatIstraddledhisthighs.IshudderedasIfeltthethicklengthofhimbrushmythigh.Heslidhishandsupmywaist.Shiversfollowedhishandsovermyribsandthenacrossmychest,justbelowmycollarbone.“Iamsimplyspeakingthetruth.”
Iheldstillashegatheredthestrandsofhairinhishands.Areedybreathleftmeasheliftedthehair,draggingitbackbehindmyshoulders,andthentherewastrulynothingbetweenhisgazeandme.
Thestarsinhiseyesturnedluminousashisfingerslingeredinmyhair,asIlookedoverhisfeatures.IthoughtofthemarkingsI’dseenonhisfacewhenhe’dbeenunconscious—thetrailingdesignthathadbeenslightlyraised.He’dsaidithadbeenbloodanddirt,andithadtobetrue,becausetherewasnosignofthemnow.
“Whenyoufirstenteredmyquarters,”hesaid,“Iwasn’tallthatpleasedbyit,eventhoughIenjoyedpartsofourtimeinthegardensandbefore.”
“Andnow?”Iasked.
“Verypleased.”Hisfingersmadetheirwayfrommyhairanddancedacrossmyarms,leavingafinewakeoftremorsbehind.Severalsecondspassed.“ButIshould’vesentyoufrommychambers.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIhavethisdistinctivefeelingthisisn’texactlywise,”hesaid,andmystomachdipped.“Touchme,na’laa.”
Iwascaughtbetweentheuneasehisstatementcreatedandhowhisdemandcausedmypulsetospin.Ireleasedmygriponthetub,placingmyhandsonhischest.Hisbackarchedslightly,muchlikeacat’swhenpetted.
“Ilikebeingtouched,”hesaidwhenmygazeliftedtohis.“Doyou?”
Morethanhecouldeverrealize.Heartthrumming,InoddedasIdraggedmyfingertipsdown,underthewaterandoverthecordedmusclesofhisstomach.
IopenedmyselfupasIexploredhislowerstomach,buttherewasjustthatshieldofwhiteasmyfingersslippedbeyondhisnavel.Iglanceddown.Thefaintglowedgedhischestandwaist,butIwasunabletoseethroughthesuds.However,Iknewwhatmyhandswerenear.Icouldfeelhimrestingagainstmythigh.
Histhumbssweptoverthetipsofmybreasts,causingmetojerk.“HowlonghaveyoubeeninArchwood?”
Ittookmeacoupleofmomentstoanswer.“Forafewyears.”
ThePrincemadeanotherswipeoverthecenterofmybreastashisrighthandfollowedthesamedirectionasmine,slippingdownmystomachandthenunderwater.Isuckedinaheadybreathashispalmstoppedjustbelowmynavel.Hishandwassolargethatwhenthatthumbbegantomove,itdippedbetweenthecreaseofmythighandhip.
“Andinthosefewyearsthatyou’vebeenhere,”hesaid,thethumbatmybreastmovinginthesameslowsweepsastheonealongmyinnerthigh.Histouchcreatedaheatthatspreadacrossmyskinandseepedintomyblood.“Howoftenhaveyouprovedtobequitethedecadentdistraction?”
Igrinned,lettingmyselfexplorealittlefurther,brushingmyfingersagainstthethick,impossiblyhardfleshbetweenhislegs.Hemadeasound,adeeponethatcamefromhischestasItracedhisrigidlength.Thefleshtherewassmoothyetgentlyridged.Towardthebase,hewasthickerandrounder,almostasifthefleshwasmore…roundthere.Ihadn’tlookedcloseenoughtonoticethat,andI’dneverfeltanythinglikeit,norhadNaomimentionedanythingofthesort.Ihadnoideawhatthatwouldfeellikein…insideme,butmyimagination…
Goodness.
Myfingersfloatedaway.Iswallowedasmuscleslowinmystomachclenched.“ThatIcannotanswer.”
“Interesting,”heremarked,andmyhipsjerkedashisknucklesbrushedtheverycenterofme.Thecornersofhislipstippedup.Thestarsseemedtopulseinhiseyesashisfingersdippeddeeperalongmythigh.
Feelingbreathless,Ishudderedashisfingersclosedaroundmynipple.Itriedtofocusonanythingotherthanwhathewasdoingwithhishands,buthistouchwasincreasinglydistracting,aswasthefeelofhisfleshbeneathmyhands.
PrinceThorne’sheadtiltedtothesideasIspreadmyfingers.Beneaththem,themusclesofhisstomachseemedtotightenandrelax.“HowdidyoubecomeafavoriteoftheBaron’s?”
Myheartturnedoverheavilyasmygazeshottohis.“Asonetypicallydoes.”
AtightsmilereappearedasIloweredmyheadtohisneck.Ipressedmylipsthere,kissinghimsoftlyandslowlyworkingmywaydown,nippingattheskinatthecurveofhisshoulder.
“Likethis?”heasked,brushingthebackofhishandalongthecenterofmeoncemore.
“Manyways,”Imurmuredagainsthischest,thesaltofhisskinandthefaintflavorofsoapgatheringagainstmylips.
Thehandonmythighslidaninchortwodown.Itensed,pulseskippingasoneofhisfingersdriftedalongtheslit.Itwasabarelytheretouch,butmyentirebodyjerkedinresponse.
MyfingerscurledagainsthisskinasIdraggedmyhandsup.Ilickedatthehardlineofhischest.IknewIshouldbeusingmyhandselsewhere,butIwasalreadydistractedenough.Possiblytoomuch,becauseIcouldbarelyseethewhitewallnow.“Whatother—”Igaspedasafingerofhispresseddownonthesensitivecenterofnerves.
“Youweresaying?”
WhatwasIsaying?Oh,yes.Whyhewashere.“Whatotherreasonscould’vebroughtyoutothemanor?”
Hisfingerswirledaroundmyclit,causingmetotremor.“Youaskmanyquestions,na’laa.”
“I’mknowntobeverycurious.”
“Andstubborn?”
“Maybethat—”Igaspedashisheaddippedsuddenly.HiswarmbreathonmyskinwastheonlywarningIhadbeforehismouthclosedovermynipple.Itrembledashistongueteased,sendingshiversofpleasureracingthroughme.Hishandcameuptocupmyotherbreast,thumbingthesensitivepeak.Abreathymoanescapedme.Hethendrewmynippleintohismouth,suckingdeepandhard.Ishook,cryingout.Hechuckledlowinhisthroat,andthesoundvibratedinthemostwantonlydeliciousway.
Heslowlyreleasedthethrobbingfleshfromhismouth.“Sorry,”hesaid,brushinghislipsovertheskin.“Iwantedtoknowwhatyourskintastedlike.”
MynailsscrapedagainsthishardfleshasIslippedmyhandoverhisnavelandunderwater.“Andwhatdoesmyskintastelike,YourGrace?”
“Thorne,”hesighed,trailingapathofhot,wetkissestomyotherbreast.Histongueflickedout,tantalizingandwicked.“Yourskintastesofhungerandsmellsof…”Hislipsthencoastedalongthesideofmythroat,coaxingmyheadback.Hedidn’tneedto.Iwasalreadygivinghimwhateverhesought.“Cherries.”
“Cherries?”Myfingersbrushedagainsthiscock.IthadbeenawhilesinceIfinishedaman.Frompreviousexperience,Ijudgedthatitwasn’tallthatdifficult;mostmenseemedrathereasytoplease.ButthiswasaHyhbornprince.IhesitatedasIwrappedmyhandaroundhim,unsure.
“YourskinsmellsofthecherriesthatflourishinthemeadowsofHighgrove.”Hisotherhandslippedfrommybreastandfoundminebeneaththewater.“Ibetyourlipstastejustassweet.”
Mybreathsnaggedashishandclosedovermine.Hetightenedmygriponhimandbegantomovemyhanduphislength.Iexhaledashakybreathashethrobbedagainstmypalm.
“ThisishowIlikeit,”hetoldme,sendingashiverywaveofheatthroughmeashedrewmyhandbackdownhim.“Tight.Hard.Youwon’thurtme.”
Swallowing,Inodded.Hislipsbrushedmycheekasheletgoofmyhand.Ikeptgoing,myownbreathcominginshort,shallowpantsasImovedmyhandintunewithhisfingers’slow,idlecaresses,gainingconfidenceinwhatIwasdoing.
PrinceThornenippedatmylowerlip,butdidn’tkissmeashedrewhisfingeroverthethrobbingheat.“Haveyoueverdonethis?”
“Donewhat?”
“This.”Hisfingermadeanotherpass.“Servicedanother.”
“Ofcourse,”Ianswered.
“Thenhowlonghaveyoubeenservicingothers?”
“Longenough.”
Thatfaintsmilereturnedasmorespecksofwhitecrowdedhispupils.TheeffectwasstartlingenoughthatIfounditdifficulttolookawayfrom.“YouknowwhatIthink?”
Myhipsjerkedagainashishandcuppedmebetweenthethighs.“What?”
Hispalmpressedagainstme,andmybodyreactedwithoutthought,rubbingagainsthim.“Ithinkyou’relyingtome.”CHAPTER16
Inaverydistantpartofmybrain,warningbellsrang.They’dprobablybeenringingthiswholetimebutI’dbeentoodistractedtonotice.
PrinceThorne’sfingerskeptmovingidlybetweenmythighsandatmybreast.“Na’laa?”
“I…I’veneverseducedaHyhborn,”Imanaged,thighstrembling.“Orbeenseducedbyone.”
“Bothofthosethingsaren’tnecessarilytrue,”hesaid.“Youseducedmeintheshower,andyouweresoveryclosetobeingseducedthen.”
“Idon’tbelievethatcounts.”
“Itdoesn’t?”Hisfingersclosedoverthepeakofmybreast,sendingaboltofpleasuredpainthroughme.“So…”Hedrewthewordoutasthefingerheranalongmedidn’tmakeanidlepass,butstopped,slippingintome.Notdeep,buttheshallowintrusionstillwasastunning,acuteshock,wringingasoftcryfromme.“Ifitwasmycockinsideyouinsteadofmyfinger?”Thatfingerretreateduntilhenearlyleftme,andthenhereclaimedthescantfingertiplength.“Movingthroughthistight,hotheatofyours?”
EachbreathItookfeltlikeitwentnowhereashisfingermovedslowly,steadily—ashishandshiftedandhisthumbbrushedoverthenuboffleshjustabovehisfinger.
“Goingdeeper?Harder?Faster?”Theblueandgreenchurnedwildlythroughthebrownofhisirises.Hispupilswerenearlywhite.“Wouldthesoundsyoumakebethoseofawell-practicedandskilledloverasIfuckyou?Orwouldyourcriesbethoseofonewhohaslittleexperienceinsuchpleasure?”
ThemoanthatleftmewasoneI’dnevermadebefore.Ishuddered.I’dbeenfuckedbefore,butI’dneverfeltthesealmosttoo-intensesensationshewascreatinginsideofme,drawingoutofme.
Hedippedhishead,lipsglancingoffmycheek.“Idon’tthinkyou’reaskilledcourtesan.”
MyheartthunderedasIsaidthefirstthingthatcametomind.“PerhapstheBaronbelievedyouwouldnotwantonesoexperienced?”
Onesinglebrowrose.“AreyousuggestingthatyourbaronthoughtIwouldpreferdebauchinganunpracticedpotentialvirginwhoonedaywantstobecomeabotanist?”
Awaveofpricklywarmthhitmyskin,looseningmyholdonmytongueandcommonsense,buttighteningmygriponhiscock,justabovethatknotofflesh.Hewasevenhardertherethantherestofhisbody.“Youdon’t?”Iasked,watchinghimasImovedmyhandalonghislengthjustashesaidhelikedit.Tight.Hard.Thosetinysparksoflightappearedinhispupils.“I’mnovirgin,YourHighness,buttruthisnotnearlyasimportantasperception.So,ifyoubelievemetobeanunpracticedvirgin,itdidn’tstopyoufromengaginginsaiddebauchery,didit?”
Thecornersofhislipstwitchedasifhewishedtosmile.“Itdidnot.”
KnowingthatgroundIwastreadingonwasgettingeventhinner,moredangerous,Iglanceddownatwherehishandwasstillbetweenmylegs,hisfingerstillinsideme.MyeyesreturnedtohisasIstrokedhimfromthebasetothetip,marvelingabitattheridgedfeelofhim.“Andstillhasn’t?”
ThePrincedidn’trespondforalongmoment,butIfelthischestrisesharplyundermyotherhand.“AmItobelievethewayyouallbutranintothebathingchamberuponthesuggestionthatwe’dskipthebathwasanact?ThattheflushofyourskinwhenIenteredthechamberwasatrickoftheeyes?Yourhesitationinjoiningme?Yournervousness?Allanact?”
Ileanedinuntilourmouthswereinchesapart,summoningeveryounceofbraveryIhad.“I’mnotheretomakeyoubelieveonethingoranother.”
Hishipsjerkedandthefingersatmybreastpressedintomyflesh.“Thenwhatareyouherefor?”heasked,voicethickandsoft.
Iswirledmythumboverthetipofhiscock,smilingwhenairhissedbetweenhisclenchedteeth.“IfIhavetoexplainthat,thenobviouslyI’mdoingsomethingwrong.”Isqueezedhim,feelingasurgeofsatisfactionattherollofhishipsthatsentwatersplashingagainstthesidesofthetub.“ButIdon’tthinkthatIam.”
PrinceThorne’slipsparted,buthesaidnothingasIcontinuedtostrokehim,justasslowlyashisfingermovedinsideme.Throughhalf-closedeyes,Iwatchedhimclosely.Hisbreathingpickedup,cominginshort,shallowpants.So,Ialternatedbetweensmoothslidesandtighter,slowertugs,butthecontrolledplungesofhisfingermadeitdifficulttofocusonanythingbutthat.
“Ithinkyouowemeanapology,”Ipanted,muscleslowinmystomachquivering.
“Forwhat?”
“Forbeingwrongaboutme.”
“Perhaps.”Hegroaned,cocktwitchinginmyhand.Hisfingerssplayedacrossmybreastandthenfoundtheirwaytothenapeofmyneck.
Eachthrustofhisfinger,hewentalittledeeper,alittlefaster.Thenitwashisfingers,stretchingmeashisthumbswirledaroundmytautclit.Itriedtoreinitback.Allofit.ThewayImoved.Myreactiontohim.Thesoft,breathysoundsImade.Mybody.Thepleasure,andmyhungerforit.Myneed.Thiswasn’twhatIwasherefor.Islowed,throatdryasIstruggledtoremembermywholepurposeforbeinghere,butIwassothrownbythe…therealizationthatIwantedthis.Badly.Wantedmore.
Ishouldn’t.Atleast,Ididn’tthinkthatIshould,butI…Idid.IwasenjoyingthatitwasIwhowasthecauseofhisbreathquickening.Thatitwasmytouchthatbroughtforththosedeep,rumblingsoundsfromaHyhbornprinceasIworkedhisflesh—ashedidthesametome.Aflutteringsensationlowinmystomachandevenlower.Iwantedtobedoingthis.
JustasIhadwantedtogetinthetub.
Tobetouched.
Totouch.
IthadtobebecauseIwassimplytouchinganother—givingpleasureandexperiencingitwithouttakingtheirthoughtsorpryingintotheirfutures.Anditwasthat,butitalsofeltlikesomethingmore.Ididn’tknowwhatorunderstandit,andthatscaredme.Icouldfeelitbuildinginsideofme,arisingtideofdesirethatthreatenedtooverwhelmmysenses—everypartofme.Itriedtoholdback,toreinmyselfin,butitwasliketryingtoholdbacktheocean.
“Don’tfightit.Giveintowhatyourbodywants,”hecoaxed.“Giveintome.”
Ishuddered,surrenderingtohisdemands—tothedemandsofmyownbody.Igavemyselfovertothemoment,rockingagainsthim,myhandfasternow,hisfingershardernow.Musclescoiledlowinsideme,tauterandtauteruntilthetensionborderedonpain.UntilIbegantotremble.
“That’sit,”hegrowled,hisbodystraining—hisbodyhummingagainstmine.“Iwanttofeelyoucomeonmyfingers,na’laa.”
Hispupils…theywentcompletelywhiteasIbegantotremble.Thenallthattightening,swirlingpressureerupted.Icame,cryingoutasallthattensionunfurledinamoltenhotfloodofdesireashisshaftswelledagainstmypalm.Thereleasewassharpandstunning.Wavesofsensationcrashedthroughmeas…ashisbodyseemedtoheatagainstmine,somuchsothatmyeyesflutteredopenevenastheswirlingpleasurerippledthroughoutme.
Hispupilsglowedintensely,likepolisheddiamonds.TheyweresowidethatIcouldn’tseeanyofhisirises,andhisbodywashumming,lendinganalmostblurredeffecttotheoutlineofhisshoulders.Hedraggedmeagainsthischest,hisarmgoingaroundmywaist,holdingmetightasIgaspedintothecrookofhisneck.Thefeelofhisfleshagainstmybreastssentamyriadofunexpectedsensationsdartingthroughme.Ilostmyrhythmonhiscock,buthedidn’tseemtonoticeashishipspushedagainstmygrip,sendingwatersplashingovertherimofthetub.Hiscockjerked,spasming,andthesoundhemadeashecameheatedmyblood,leavingmefeelingashotashisbodynowfeltagainstmine.
Theaftershocksofpleasureleftmelimpagainsthischest,mybreathingragged.Restingmycheekonhisshoulder,Ifollowedtheleadofhisbody,slowingmymovementsasthespasmseasedandthenfinallyliftingmyhandfromhim.Ididn’tmoveawayfromhim,though.Hisfingersstilldancedandteased,coaxingoutafainterrippleofpleasurebeforeheslowlywithdrewhisfingersfromme.Eyesclosed,Istilldidn’tmoveashefoldedhisotherarmaroundme.Ididn’tknowwhyhedidthis,butI…Irelaxedintohim.Therewassomethingunexpectedlysoothingabouthiswarmembrace,comforting.Itmademewantto…tosnugglecloser,intotheheatofhisbody.
Thequiettickedby,andIwasunabletoholdbackmyquestions.“Yourbody…itseemedtoincreaseintemperatureandvibrate?IsthatbecauseyouwerefeedingorwasIimaginingthat?”
“Youweren’t.”PrinceThorneclearedhisthroat.
“Doesithurtwhenitdoesthat?”
“Itdoesnot.”Hishandmovedupanddownmyback,tanglinggentlyinmyhair.“Itfeelsquitetheopposite.”
Tryingtopicturemybodyheatingandvibrating,Iwasunabletoimaginehowthatwouldfeelpleasant.“I’llhavetotakeyourwordonthat.”
Hischucklewaslowandrough.Thequietreturnedthen,andforalittlewhile,Ijustletmyselffeelitall.Howtightheheldme.Theweightofhisarmsaroundmeandthewarm,hardfleshpressingagainstmine,andthewayitfelt…itfeltright.
Gods,thatwassuchasillythought,butthat’swhatIfelt.Ididn’tunderstandhowitcouldfeelright.Itshouldn’t,butitdid,andIsoakeditallin,committingeverysecondofittomemory.
BecauseIhadneverfeltanyofthisbefore.
AndIhadnoideawhenIwouldfeelitagain.
Ididn’tattempttogetpasthisshields,andthatwas,well,notgood.Icould’vetriedagain,especiallywhilewebothweresoquiet,butdoingsofeltasifitwould…taintthis.
Whateverthiswas—whichwasnothing,absolutelynothing.
Icouldn’tlinger,though.Gradyhadtobebesidehimselfwithworry,andI…IneededtofigureoutwhatthehellIwasgoingtotellClaude,becausewhatfewanswersI’dgainedwerevagueatbest.AllIcouldtellhimwaswhothisHyhbornprincewasandwhatIalreadyknew.
“Na’laa?”
“Hmm,”Imurmured.
“I’mneverwrong.”
Ittookmeamomenttogetwhathewasreferencing.WhenIdid,achillslithereddownmyspine.Openingmyeyes,Iliftedmyheadandstartedtopullback.Hisembraceheldfirm.Igainedonlyascantinchortwoofseparation.Mygazemethis.Thestarsweregonefromhiseyes.Thecolorshadsloweduntiltheywereblotsofgreen,blue,andbrown.Nothingcouldbegainedfromthestrikinganglesofhisface.
Igatheredupallthatbravadoithadtakentoenterthechambers,sensingthatnowwasnotthetimetofinallyfeeltheterrorIshould’vefeltfromthemomentwecrossedpathsinthegardensthenightbefore.“Besidesthefactthattheideathatanyone,Hyhbornornot,canneverbewrongseemsimplausibletome,I’mnotexactlysurewhatyou’rereferencing.”
Hislipscurved,butthesmilewastightandcool.“Yousaidyouweresenttoserviceme,correct?”
Inodded.
Oneofhishandsslidupmyback,tanglinginmyhair.“Idon’tthinkthatwastheonlyreasonyouweresenttome.”
Thetipsofmyfingerspressedintothehardfleshofhisshoulders.“I—”
“WhileIfindyourlittleliesandhalf-truthstobestrangelyamusing,thisisnotoneofthosemoments.”Hisfingersfoundtheirwaytothenapeofmyneckandstayed.“TrustmewhenIsayitwouldbevery,veryunwisetodoso.”CHAPTER17
Itensed,everypartofmybeingfocusingonthefeelofhishandatmyneck.Heputnopressurethere,buttheweightofhishandwaswarningenough.
Thearmstillaroundmywaisttightened.Ourchestswereflushoncemoreashedrewmybodyagainsthis.Igasped,feelinghimagainstmycore.Hewasstillhard.Apoundingpulseofsharpdesirerenewedathrobbingache,shockingme,becausenowwassonotthetimetobefeelinganyofthat.
PrinceThorne’ssmilelostsomeofitscoldness.“Pleasedon’tlie,Calista.”
Please.
Thatwordagain.Myname.Hearingbothwasunnerving.Ididn’tthink“please”wassomethingheoftensaid,anditmademewanttobetruthful,butevenifhehadn’tsaidit,Iwassmartenoughtoknowthatlyingnowwouldlikelyendverybadlyforme.
Tellingthetruthwasalsolikelytoendbadly.IknewClaudewouldn’tsendmeaway,buthecouldbecomeangryenoughthathebanishedGradyfromthemanor—fromArchwood.ButifIliednow,andthePrincereactedinanger?IfIscreamedandGradycamein?Hewouldn’tsurvivegoingtoe-to-toewiththePrince.
So,itwasano-winsituation,exceptthatlyingendedinviolence,andthetruth—oratleastapartofit—endedinthelossofsecurityand,attheleast,thesenseofsafety.
Iswallowed,knowingIcouldn’tendangerGrady.“TheBaronwas…heisworriedaboutyourunexpectedappearance.”
“Doeshehaveareasontoworry?”PrinceThorneasked.
“He’sapparentlybehindonhisquarterlytithes,”Ishared,stomachchurning.“HefearedthatyouweresentbytheKingtocollectthem.”
Hisheadtiltedslightly.“Yourbaronsawme.DoIlooklikesomeonetheKingwouldsendtocollecttithes?”
“No.”Ialmostlaughed,butnothingaboutthiswasfunny.“ButIalsodon’tthinktheBaronwasinthe…um,rightframeofmindatthemomenttorecognizewhoyouwere.”
“That’svastlyunderstated.”Hisfingersbegantomoveatmyneck,pressingintothetautmusclesthere.“HewasashighasthemountainsofmyCourt.”
“True,”Iwhispered.
“So,hesentyoutoferretoutwhyIwashere,”hesurmised.“Insteadofwaitingtillthemorning,asIadvised?”
“Yes.”
Tensionbracketedhismouth,butthemotionsofhisfingersremainedgently,oddlysoothing.“Areyouevenacourtesan?”
“Whydoesthatmatter?”
“Becauseitdoes.”
“Itdidn’tmatterwhenyouledmetobelieveyouwerealord,”Ipointedout,whichapartofmefullyrecognizedIprobablyshouldn’thave,butitwasabsurdand…andunfairforhimtobequestioningmewhenhetoohadn’texactlybeenforthcoming.
“We’renottalkingaboutme,na’laa.”
“Ihaveafeelingyou’recallingmestubborninsteadofbravewhenyoucallmethat,”Imuttered.
“Rightnow,it’samixtureofboth.”Hisgazesweptovermyfeatures.“Didyouhaveachoiceincomingtometonight?”
“What?”
“Wereyouforcedtocometometonight?”
Hisquestionsknockedmeoff-kilter.Icouldn’tfathomwhyhe’dcareifthatwasthecase.“Yes.”
Hestaredatmeforseveralmoments;thenhislashessweptdown,shieldinghiseyes.“Yourbaronisafool.”
Iopenedmymouth,butIcouldn’treallydisagreewiththatstatement.ClaudewasafoolandsowasIforgoingalongwiththis.Myheartpoundedunsteadilyinthesilencethatfollowed.Ididn’tknowwhattoexpect,butthenheletmego.Confused,IremainedwhereIwas,mybodypressedtightlyagainsthis,myhandsflattenedonhisshoulders,and…therigidlengthofhimstillnestledagainstmycore.
“Youshoulddryoff,”hesaidquietly.
“You…you’renotgoingtopunishme?”Iasked.
“WhywouldIpunishyoufortheidiocyofanother?”Thoselashesliftedthen,andthefaintestburstofwhitewasvisibleinhiseyes.
Morethanalittlesurprised,Iroseonshakylegs,causingwatertosplashoverthesidesasIsteppedoutofthetub.Iquicklydriedoffandthenretrievedmyrobe.Slidingiton,Ihastilysecuredthesashandmadesurethepouchhadremainedinthepocket.Ifthatfellout…goodgods.
IturnedbacktothePrince,startledintotakingastepback.He’dalreadyleftthetub.Ihadn’theardhimorasinglesoundofthewaterbeingdisturbed.Meanwhile,I’dsoundedlikeasmallchildsplashinginapuddlewhenIhadrisen.Ipickedupafreshtowel,offeringittohim.
Hedidn’ttakeit.
Instead,hishandswenttomythroat.Itensed,nearlylosingmygriponthetowel.
PrinceThorne’slipsquirkedasheslippedhishandsbeneathmyhair.Hisfingersgrazedthenapeofmyneck,sendingaseriesofshiversdownmyback.Istoodthereashe…ashetuggedtheheavylengthofhairfreefromtherobe.
“There,”hesaid.
Mybreath…itskipped.Thrownbyhisgesture,Iwentcompletelystillagain.
“Youbehaveasifyouexpectviolencefrommeateveryturn,”hecommented,takingthetowelfromme.“Iknowmykindcanbe…unpredictable,buthaveIbehavedinawaythatwouldgiveyoupause?”
Iswallowed.
Helookedoveratmeashedrewthetowelacrosshischest.“It’sanhonestquestion.”
“Well,youdidtakemetothegroundthatnightinthebarnandthreatentodrownmeinyourblood.”
“Iwasnotquiteawareofmyselfatthatmoment.”
“AndwhenIfirstenteredyourbedchamber,youheldmeagainstawall,”Icontinued.
Oneeyebrowrose.“Thebedchamberyouentereduninvitedandunexpected.”
Ishiftedmyweightfromonefoottothenext.“YouaskedwhyI’dexpectviolence.Thosewerejusttwoexamples.”
“Justtwo?”hereplied.“There’smore?”
Iglancedatthetub.“Ididcomehereunderfalsepretenses.”
“Yes,”hesaid.“Thereisthat.AreyoutospeakwiththeBaronuponleavingmyquarters?”
“I’mtomeetwithhiminthemorning,beforehespeakswithyou.”
“Whatwillhappenifyouhavenorealinformationtoprovidehim?”
“Nothing.”
Heloweredthetowel,hisstarepiercingstraightthroughme.“Na’laa.”
“Idonotlikethatnickname.”
“Youwouldifyouknewallthemeanings.”
Igrittedmyteethashecontinuedtowaitforananswer—forthetruth.“Hewillbe…disappointed.”
“Willhepunishyou?”
“No.”Ilookedaway,uncomfortablewiththeideathathewouldthinkthat.UncomfortablewiththefactthatI’dexpecteditfromhim.“Hemightnotevenremembersendingmetoyou,tobehonest.”Thatwasunlikely,buttherewasasliverofachance.“Hewasquiteintoxicated.”
AlowrumbleradiatedfromthePrince.Mygazeshotbacktohim,myeyeswidening.Therewasnothingremotelyhumanaboutthatsound.Itresembledthatofa…awolforsomethingfarlarger.
“TellhimI’mnotheretocollecttithes,”hesaid,turningfrommeashedrewthetowelaroundhiswaist.“ThatI’mheretodiscussthesituationwiththeIronKnights.ThatshouldbeenoughtotidehimoveruntilIcanspeakwithhiminmoredetail.Donottellhimyouconfidedinme.Iwillnotspeakawordofit.”
Mymouthdroppedopeninshock.Hispardon—andthat’swhathissilenceregardingtellinghimthetruthtrulywas—wasunexpected.Yetagain,hewasunknowinglysavingGradyandme.
Henodded,walkingfromthebathingchamber.“Youseemsurprised.”
“IsupposeIam.”Itrailedoff,followinghim.“Ididn’texpectyoutotellmeor…”Orforhimtocoverforme.Iclearedmythroat.“Ialsohadn’texpectedittoinvolvetheissuewiththeIronKnights.”Iwatchedhimpourhimselfaglassofwhiskey.Helookedbackatme,andIshookmyheadattheofferofadrink.“Isthatthekindofinformationyouwereseekingwhenyouwereherebefore?”Iasked,heartlurchingasIthoughtofAstoria.“DoestheKingbelievethatArchwoodissomehowsympathetictotheIronKnights?”
“WhatIcameforbeforeisunrelatedtowhyI’mherenow.”Hefacedme,thetowelknottedathiswaistandtheedgesofhishairdamp.Tinydropsofwaterstillclungtohischest,drawingmygazeastheytraveleddownoverthedipsofhisstomach.“AndthesituationregardingtheIronKnightshaschanged.”
Istartedtoaskwhy,butmyeyesmethisandIfellsilent.Myskintingledwithawareness.Thesensetodroptheconversationslammedintome,andthistimeIlistenedtoit.Iglancedaroundhisquarters,myhandsgoingtothesashontherobe.IwantedtothankhimformakingsureIborenoconsequencesforwhatIhadtakenpartinthisevening,butIhadtochoosemywordswisely.“I…IappreciateyoutellingmewhyyouhavecometoArchwood.”
PrinceThorneinclinedhisheadinwhatIassumedwasacknowledgment.
Akeensenseofnervousnessinvadedmeashestared.“Ifthere’snotanythingelseIcandoforyou,Ishouldbeonmyway.”
Hestoodsilent,watchingme.
Takinghislackofanswerasagoodenoughresponse,Igaveaquickandterriblecurtsy.“Goodnight,YourGrace.”
Hedidn’tcorrectmyuseofthehonorific.Hewasstillquiet,watchingmewithanexpressionIcouldn’tquitemakeout.Passinghim,Imadeittothedooroftheantechamber.
“Stay.”
Iwhippedtowardhim.“Excuseme?”
“Stay,”herepeated,hisgripontheglasstightening.“Staythenightwithme.”
Iopenedmymouth,butIfoundnowords.Hewantedmetostay?Thenightwithhim?Iglancedatthebed,stomachclenchinganddroppingatthesametime.
“Tosleep,”headded,andmyattentionswungbacktohim.Myeyeshadwidenedslightly.Crackshadformedintheglassheheld.Notdeepenoughtospillthedrink,butIcouldseethefragilespiderweb-likelinesracingthroughouttheglass.“Thatisall,na’laa.”
MymindwentintwovastlydifferentdirectionsasIstaredathim.Onepartofmecouldn’tevenbelievehewasaskingforsuchathing,becausewhyinthefiverealmswouldhewanttojustsleepwithme?Theotherpartofmewasfoolishlywonderingwhatitwasliketosleepbesideanotherwhowasn’tGrady,andthinkingaboutthatcausedtheskippingofmybreathtorepeatitselfinmychestandstomach.
Andthat…thatwasunacceptableforvariousreasons.
“ThatIcannotdo,”Isaid.
Hisheadcocked.“Cannotorwillnot?”
Therewasadifferencebetweenthetwo.“Cannot”wasn’tachoice.“Willnot”was.TheproblemwasIdidn’tknowwhichitwas.
“Both,”Iadmitted,shaken.“Goodnight.”
Ididn’twait.Turning,Ileftthebedchamberandreachedthemaindoor.Iturnedthehandle.Itdidn’tbudge.Frowning,Iglancedup,seeingthatitwasunlocked.Whatthe—?PrinceThorne.Hewasstoppingmefromopeningthedoor.Istiffened,feelinghisintensestareonmyback,andforawildmoment,awickedthrillwentthroughme,leavingmebreathless.Theideathathe’dstoppedmesentahot,tightshiverthroughme.
Ididn’twanthimtoletmego.
Thatdamnablefeeling—theoneofbelongingwithhim—surgedthroughme,anddeargods,theretrulywassomethingwrongwithme.
Myhandsflattenedagainstthewood.Inmychest,myheartraced.Thenthedoorcrackedopenbeneathmypalms.Hewaslettingmego.Somethingakinto…todisappointmentflashedthroughme,leavingmeevenmoreconfused,withhim—withmyself.
“Allright,I’mofficially…flabbergasted.”ThesoftglowfromthelampnearthebedIsatuponlitGrady’sprofile.Hesatontheedgeofmybed,hisswordrestingagainstthechestatthefootofthebed,morerelaxedaftermostofhisangeratlearningthatthespecialguesthadn’tbeenexpectingmehadpassed.
“Flabbergasted?”
“Dumbfoundedandeveryotherunnecessaryadjectiveyoucanthinkof.ThePrinceofVytruscametodiscusstheIronKnights?Whowouldn’tbesurprised.”Gradydraggedahandoverhisface.“Andyou’resurehe’snotgoingtosaysomethingtotheBaronaboutyoutellinghimthetruth?”
“I’mprettysure.”Itippedmyheadback.Itwaslate,aboutanhourafterI’dleftPrinceThorne’schambers.I’djustfinishedtellingGradywhathadhappened—well,noteverything.Ididn’twanttotraumatizehimwithunnecessarydetails.“ButIcan’tknowforsuresinceIcan’treadhim.Itriedseveraltimestogetinsidehishead,butIcouldn’t.”
Hescratchedatthefaintgrowthofhairalonghischeek.“YouhavetotelltheBaronthatyougottheinformationatleastpartlythatway,though.IfhethinksthePrincesimplytoldyoubecauseyouasked,he’snotgoingtobelieveyou.”
“Iknow.”WhichmeantIreallyhopedPrinceThorneheldtowhathesaid,andthathewouldn’tspeakawordofit.
Tuggingtheedgesoftheblackrobe—myrobe,onemadeofcomfortablecottonthatwasn’ttransparent—aroundme,Ismotheredayawnassilencefilledthelarge,fairlyemptychamber.
Therewasn’tmuchtotheimmaculatespace.Awardrobe.Thebed.Asetteeneartheterracedoors.Anightstandandchest.Theantechamber,though,wasoutfittedwithmorethanthenecessities—adeep-seatedsetteeandchairsarrangeduponathickplushrugofivorychenille,asmalldiningtableandcredenzamadeofwhiteoak,andvariousoddsandendstheBaronhadgiftedovertheyears.Thespacewasbeautiful,wellmaintained,andleaguesaboveanyotherplaceI’dhaveeversleptin,butitwasn’thome.
Iwantedittofeellikethat.
I’dyettoknowwhatthatevenfeltlike,butIthoughtitwouldbealotlikewhatIfeltwhenIwasinthegardens,myfingerssunkdeepinthesoil,andmymindquiet.Therewasasenseofbelongingthere.Peace.
“Youwerewiththisprinceforawhile.”Gradytentativelybroachedwhathe’dyettobringup.
Mytoescurledagainstthesheet.“Notthatlong.”
“Longenough.”
Staythenightwithme.Mystomachmadethatidioticdippingmotionagain.Ishookmyhead.Whyintheworlddidhewantmetostaythenightwithhim?Iwasn’tsureIhadpleasedhimbeyondprovidingarelease.Except,hehadsaidI’dinterestedhim,enthralledhim.
“Whathappened?”Gradyprodded.
Immediately,thememoryofthePrinceandmeinthatdamnbathtubflashedinmymind.Hishandsonme.Hisfingerinsideme.Holdingme.Anditwasthelastbitthatstuckwithme.Theholdingmepart.IdraggedmyteethovermylipasIswallowed.“Notmuch.”
“Lis…”
“Grady?”
Amuscletickedathistemple.“Youcantalktomeaboutanything.Youknowthat.So,ifsomethinghappenedthat’sgotyoufeeling—”
“NothinghappenedthatIdidn’tallowtohappen,”Icutin.
“That’sthething,though.”Gradyscootedcloser.“Youdidn’treallychoosetogotohimtonight,nowdidyou?Youfeltlikeyouhadto,sowereyoueverinthepositiontonotallowwhateveritwasthathappened?”
Iwiggledalittle,discomfitedwiththatbeingthesecondtimeI’dbeenaskedthatquestion.“Hegavemeachoice,andIdidchoosetogotohim—somethingwe’vealreadyestablished.”
GradystaredatmeasifIhadsproutedathirdeyeinthecenterofmyforehead.
“Seriously.Hegavemeachoiceinwhatwedid—andwedidn’thavesex,”Itoldhim.“Andsowhatifwehad?I’mnotavirgin,Grady.”
Hislipscurled,andthoughIcouldn’tseetheflushinhisbrownskin,Iknewitwasthere.“Ireallydidn’tneedtoknowthatbutthankyouforsharing.”
“You’rewelcome.”Dippingmychin,Igiggledattheglarehesentme.“Hereallydidgivemeachoice,Grady,andIgetthatthewholeideaofmewantingtodoanythingthatIdidisacomplicatedmess.Trustme.Iknow,but…”IthoughtofwhatNaomihadoncetoldmewhenIconfidedinherthatIsometimesenjoyeditwhenClaudesentmetofindoutinformationforhim.Fewthingsareblack-and-white,Lis.Mostoflifeexistsinthatmessygrayareainbetween,butifyouwantedwhatwashappening—youenjoyeditandsodidtheother—thenthere’snothingwrong,she’dsaid.Anyonewhotellsyoudifferenteitherhasn’tbeenwhereyou’vebeenorthey’rejustlivingadifferentlife.Doesn’tmakeeitherofyourightorwrong.Iexhaledslowly.“ButthisHyhborn…he’sdifferent.”
“Differenthow?”
Ishrugged.
“They’reallthesame,Lis.Nicetolookatandcharmingontheoutsidebutdementedassholesontheinside.Justbecauseoneofthemmadesureyoudidn’tgethurtanddidn’tcompelyouintodoingsomethingagainstyourwilldoesn’tmeantheycanbetrusted,especiallythisone.YouknowwhathasbeensaidaboutthePrinceofVytrus.”
“Iknow.”
“Doyou?”Heraisedhisbrows.“HeledthearmythatlaidsiegetoAstoria.”
Ifoundmyselfnoddingagain,butitwasdifficultreconcilingthePrinceThorneIknewwiththeonewhohadbeenspokenaboutforyears.Thenagain,Ididn’treallyknowthePrince,didI?
Butthatdidn’tfeelright.
ItdidfeellikeIknewhim,andhedidseemdifferentfromwhatweknewoftheHyhborn,evenbeforeIknewhisname.WhenIsawhiminthegardensandfartherback?MymindwentallthewaytothenightinUnionCity.“There’ssomethingIhaven’ttoldyou,”Ibegan.“We’vemetthisHyhbornbefore.”
Gradystaredatmeforamoment,thensatstraighter.HisbrowneyeswidenedthemomentheclearlyrealizedwhatIwasspeakingof.“UnionCity?”
Inodded.
Heleanedback,thenpitchedforward.“Andyou’rejustnowtellingme?”
Iwinced.“Ijust…Idon’tknowwhyIdidn’tsayanythingearlier.”
“That’sashitexcuse,Lis.”
“It’snotmeanttobeoneatall,”Itoldhim.“I’msorry.Ishould’vesaidsomethingbefore.”
Helookedaway.“It’snotthatonewhograbbedme,isit?”
“Goodgods,no.Itwastheotherone,”Iassuredhim,frowningasIrealizedthenthatPrinceThornehadalsoledtheMistertobelievehewasalordthatnight.“Hehasn’trecognizedme,bytheway.”
Gradyseemedtoletthatbitofnewssinkin.“Areyousureitwashim?”
Ishothimalook.“It’sreallyannoyingwhenpeopleaskmethatquestion.”
Hehelduphishand.“Ofcourseyou’resure.Iwasjustaskingbecausethat’s…that’sahellofacoincidence.”
Itwas,exceptIdidn’tbelieveincoincidences,andneitherdidGrady.
Gradybecamesilentashisgazetrailedtotheterracedoors.Sometimepassedbeforehespoke.“Ithinkaboutthatnightalot,youknow?TryingtofigureoutwhytheHyhbornwerethereinthefirstplace.Theywerelookingforsomeone—likeoneoftheirown?Likeacaelestiaorsomething?”
“Maybe.”Itwasn’timpossible,Isupposed.ClaudeandHymelwereseveralgenerationsremovedfromwhateverHyhborntheydescendedfrom,butIimaginedtherewereonesbornrecently.ThoughIhadnoideaiftheHyhborncaredforthatchildornot.Ididn’tknowifanycaelestiaslivedintheirCourts.
“IhavesomethingIwanttotalkaboutthatyou’renotgoingtolike,”Gradystartedafteramoment.
“What?”
Gradytookadeepbreath,andItensed,becauseIhadafeelingthatthiswasgoingtobeaconversationthatwe’dhadbefore.Onethatwouldaddyetanotherthingformetoworryabout.“Wedon’thavetostayhere,”hebegan,andyep,Iwasright.
“Yes,wedo.”Ishovedtheblanketoffmylegs,alreadyfeelingmybodyheat
“No,wedon’t.Thereareothercities,otherterritories—”
“Andwhatwouldwedointheseotherplacesthatwouldbebetterthanthis?”Ichallenged,scootingoffthebed.Ineededtobestandingforthisconversation.“Doyouthinkyoucangetapositionlikethis—onethatnotonlypaysyoubutgivesyoushelter?Niceshelteratthat?”Ibeganpacing.“Ajobthatdoesn’trequireyouriskingyourlifeeveryday,liketheminersorthelonghuntersdo?”
Gradyclampedhisjawshut.
“AndwhatwillIdo?Gobacktoplayingfortunetelleratmarkets,riskingbeingcalledaconjurer?Orfindworkinsometavern,whereI’mlikelytobeonthemenualongwithalethattasteslikehorsepiss?”
“Andyou’renotonthemenunow?”hefiredback.“Tobesampledbywhoever,whenever?”
“I’monthemenubecauseIwanttobe.”Myhandsballedintofists.“AndI’mnotevenreallyonthemenu.I’mlikeabarelychosen…appetizer.”
Gradystaredatme,hisbrowsclimbing.“What…thefuck?”
“Okay,thatwasapooranalogy,butyouknowwhatImean.Wehaveitmadehere,Grady.Gods.”Frustrationrose.“Youreallyaren’tevenplanningtoaskClaudeaboutapprenticingtotheblacksmith,areyou?”
“Honest?Idon’tgiveafuckaboutapprenticingtotheBaron’sblacksmith.”
Islammedmyeyesshut.“Grady,you’regoodatthat.Youactuallyenjoyit—”
“Yes,IamgoodatitandIdoenjoyit,butI’dratherusemytalentforgingweaponsfortheIronKnightsthanforsomefuck-boycaelestia.”
“Grady,”Igasped,eyesflyingopenasIcrossedtheshortdistancebetweenus.“Mygods,willyoupleasestopsayingstufflikethat?Especiallynow?WhenthePrinceofVytrusisheretodiscussthem?”
“I’mnotworriedaboutthatwhenitcomestohim.”
“Really?”Ichallenged.
“Really.”Heglaredupatme.“Look,IknowitfreaksyououtwhenItalkabouttheIronKnights,butdamnit,youcan’ttellmethatyou’rehappyhere.Thatyou’rehappywithallofthis.”Heswepthisarmout.“AndI’mnotjusttalkingaboutthismanorandtheBaron,butthewaywelived.Thewaywe’vehadtolive.”
“Ohmygods.”Ipressedmyhandstomyface.
“AndIknowyou’renot.IknowyouthinkthesamewayIdoabouttheHyhborn—thattheydonothingforuslowborn,”hesaid,andIpeekedbetweenmyfingers,seeinghisnostrilsflaredwithanger.“Youknow,onedayI’dliketomarry.”
Iloweredmyhandstomysides.
“Andmaybehaveakidortwo,”hecontinued.“ButwhythefuckwouldIdothat?WhywouldIwanttobringachildintothisworld?There’snorealopportunityforthatkidtobeanythingofvaluewhentheHyhborncontroleverything—whocangetaneducation,whocanownland—”Hecuthimselfoff.“They’lljustkeepputtingcaelestiasliketheBaronincontrol,andyeah,Iknowhe’snotthatbad,butIcouldspendallnightnamingotherswhowouldbebettersuitedbutwouldnevergetthechance.Wearebasicallyjustcattleforthem,workinginthemines,feedingthem,keepingtherealmrunning,andforwhat?Soyeah,wehaveitbetterthanwedidbefore,butwedon’thaveitgood,Lis.Noneofusdo.”
“I…”Iliftedmyshoulders,buttheweightofhiswords—ofthetruth—pulledthembackdown.Iwenttothebedandsatbesidehim.“Idon’tknowwhattosay.”
“Youcanjustthinkaboutit,youknow.”
Mybreathcaught.“Thinkaboutwhat,exactly?”
“Leavinghere.”
“Grady—”
“Iknowofaplace,”hecutin.“It’satownintheEastlands.”
Slowly,Itwistedtowardhim.Iheardthenameofthecitywhisperedinmymindbeforeheevenspokeit.“ColdSprings.”ThenIheardmore,anditterrifiedme.“You’retalkingaboutatown,”Isaid,loweringmyvoicetoawhisper,“thatisbasicallybecomingastrongholdforrebels.AtownthatwillinevitablyenduplikeAstoria?Youthinkthere’llbeafuturethere?”
“Youdon’tknowthat.”Hiseyesnarrowedashisshoulderswentrigid.“Unlessyoudoknowthat.”
“Idon’tknowthatasinI’veseenthistowngetdestroyed,butIdon’tneedspecialgiftstoknowthatwilleventuallyhappen.”
Gradyrelaxed.“Maybenot.MaybeBeylenwillmakesureitdoesn’t.”
Shakingmyhead,Iletoutashort,roughlaugh.“Youhavealotoffaithinsomeoneyou’venevermetandwho’sonlysucceededinmakingalotofpeoplehomelessordead.”
“Itisn’tdifferentfromanyofthosewhohavefaithinakingthey’venevermet,”hepointedout.“Whohasn’tdoneadamnthingforthelowborn.”
Well,hewasrightaboutthat.IfoldedmyarmsovermywaistasIpressedmytoesagainstthefloor.HewasrightaboutalotofstuffwhenitcametotheHyhbornandhowtherealmwasruled.Itwasn’tlikeIhadn’tthoughtthesethingsmyself,butGradywasn’tjustsuggestingthatweleaveArchwood.Hewassuggestingthatweleavetojointherebellion,whichwouldlikelyputusinaworsepositionthanwe’deverexperiencedbefore.EvenifIcouldn’tseeit,thechancesitwouldendinourdeathswerehigh.“WouldwebehavingthisconversationifClaudehadn’tsummonedmetonight?”
“Eventually,”Gradysaid.“Butitsureashellmakesnowseemlikeabettertimethanever.What’sgoingonintheWestlands?ThePrinceoffuckingVytrusbeinghere?”
Ilookedathim.“ThePrince…he’sdifferent,”Irepeated.
“Andwhatmakesyouthinkthat,Lis?Honestly?”
“Well,startingwithwhathedidtotheMister.”
“Thatmakesyouthinkhe’sdifferent?”Gradycoughedoutashortlaugh.“Lis,helefttheMisterlookinglikeagods-damnhumanpretzel.”
Icringed.“Iwasn’ttalkingaboutthat.He—PrinceThorne—heaskedaboutthebruisesonmyarms.”
“What?”
“Mister’spinching.Italwaysleftbruises—”
“Yeah,Irememberthatfuckeralwayspinchingyou,”Gradycutin.“ButwhatdoyoumeanbythePrinceaskingaboutthat?”
Frowning,Ilookedoverathim.Hisexpressionmirroredmine.“Thatnight?Afterhelookedintomyeyes,heglanceddownatmyarmsandaskedhowIgotthem.”
Gradystaredatme,hisbrowsinchinguphisforehead.
“Youdon’tremember?”
“Iremembereverythingaboutthatnight—evenwhenIcouldn’tmoveadamnmuscleorblinkaneye.”Hisjawtightened.“WhatIdonotrememberisthatprinceaskingyouthat.”
“Buthedid.Hesawthemandaskedwhathadcausedthem.Ididn’tanswerbutIglancedattheMister.That’swhyhedidthatto…”Itrailedoff.“Areyouserious?Youreallydidn’thearhimaskthat?”
“Yeah,Lis,I’mserious.Ididn’thearhimsayanythingofthesort,andIwasrightthere.”
Iopenedmymouth,butIdidn’tknowwhattosayasIsatback.IknewthatI’dheardhim.Thathehadspokentomeasheheldmyarm,andthenhe’dputhisfingerstohislipsandgrinned,buthowcouldGradynothaveheardhim?
AndhowcouldIhave?CHAPTER18
BetweeneverythingthathadhappenedwithPrinceThorneandwhatI’ddiscussedwithGradyafterward,Ididn’tthinkI’dbeabletorest.EspeciallywithhowmymindkeptgoingbackandforthonwhetherIhadactuallyheardPrinceThorne’svoiceallthoseyearsagooritwasjustaproductofascaredchild’simagination.Thelatterseemedthelikeliestexplanation,butwasalsoonethatdidn’tsitrightwithme.
ButI’dendedupfallingasleepafterGradyleft,andIdidn’ttossandturn,wakingupeveryhourlikeInormallydid.Isleptlikethedead,andsomehow,Iwasstilltiredinthemorning,wantingnothingmorethantoreturntobed,butIknewbetterthantoshowthatasHymelescortedmethroughthehallsofArchwoodManor.
Largebouquetsofjasminenowlinedthehalls,fillingtheairwithasweetandslightlymuskyaroma,likelybeingdisplayedtoimpressPrinceThorne.Theflowers’sultryscentwasn’ttheonlythingnewtothehalls.Therewasa…adistinctivechargetotheatmosphere.I’dnoticeditthismorningwhileIforcedmyselftodress.I’dkeptgettingastatickychargeeverytimeItouchedsomething,andIfeltthathere,floodingthehall.
ItwastheHyhborn’spresence.I’dfeltitthatnightinUnionCity,inthegardens,andlastnight.IknewitwassaidthatthechangeintheairoccurredifaHyhbornwasfeelingalotofpowerfulemotionslikeangerorjoyoriftherewereseveralinonespace.
Iglancedoutoneoftheopenarchways,spyingthestablesinthedistance,wheretherewasmoreactivitythannormal.Groomsandstableboysbrusheddownandfedglossyblackandpurewhitehorsesbeneaththerun-ins—horseswhosewithers,thepointwherethebodymettheneck,hadtostandatleastsixfeetfromtheground.Thatwas…thathadtobeagoodhalfafootaboveourshirehorse.
“TheybelongtotheHyhbornthathavearrived,”Hymelsaid,followingmystare.“Huge,aren’tthey?”
Staringatthehorses,Icountedfourofthebeasts.WasPrinceThornemovingaboutthemanor?Myheartskippedabit.Itwasstillveryearly,but…
“Youknow,”Hymelsaidfromwherehewalkedafewstepsinfrontofme,drawingmygazetotheswordstrappedtohisback,“itwouldn’tkillyoutosaygoodmorning.Makealittleconversation.Respondtoacommentortwo.”
Ibitbackasigh.Thiswasn’tthefirsttimehe’dgivenmegriefaboutnotchattingwithhim.Itwasaratherroutinething,justaswasmysilence.Ididn’tlikeHymel.Heknewthat.
“Mightmakethingsabitmoreenjoyableforyou,”headdedasweturnedacorner.
Theonlythingthatwouldmakethesewalksmoreenjoyablewasiftherewereacliffinvolvedandhewalkedoffit.
“Andjustincaseyouneedreminding,”HymelwassayingaswenearedthepillaredarchwayofClaude’sstudy,“you’renobetterthanme.Attheendoftheday,you’vebecomelittlemorethanawhorewhocansometimesseethefuture.”
Irolledmyeyessoharditwasasurprisetheydidn’tfalloutofthebackofmyhead.Iwasn’tsureifheactuallythoughtthatoffendedmeashestoppedtoopenthedoor.Likelyhebelievedhe’ddeliveredsomesortofcuttingblowwithhiswords.Mostlittlementhoughttheywerecapableofsuch.Helookedoverhisshoulder,thestareinhispaleeyeschallenging.
Meetinghisgaze,Ismiled,andthatsmiledeepenedasIsawhisjawclench.Breakingeyecontact,Iwalkedintothestudy.
Claudesatontheedgeofhisdesk,hislong,leanlegsencasedinblackbreeches.Helookedupfromapieceofparchmentheheldasweentered.AloosesmileappearedonClaude’shandsomeface,andIwasstruckbyhowtherewasn’tasinglehintoflastnight’sindulgencesthere.Ithadtobebecauseofwhathewas.IfIbehavedlikehim,I’dhavepermanentshadowsbeneathmyeyes.
“Goodmorning,pet.”Heloweredtheparchmenttothewhiteoaksurfaceofhisdesk.“Pleasehaveaseat.”
“Goodmorning.”IsatonthesetteeasHymelclosedthestudydoor,foldingmyhandsinthelapofmyplain,cream-huedgown.
“Wouldyoulikesomecoffee?”heaskedashepickedupasmallcup.
“No,thankyou.”Thelastthingmyjumpystomachneededwascaffeine.
“Yousure?”Claudetookasmall,ratherdelicatesipofcoffee.“Youlooktired.”
“Itwasa…latenight,”Isaid.
Clauderaisedadarkbrow.“Andatiringone?”
IwatchedHymelcrossovertothecredenza,asmirkplasteredacrosshislips.“Somewhat.I…Ididn’texpecttomeetaHyhbornwhenIenteredhischambers.”
“Oh.”Hefrowned.“DidInottellyouhewasaHyhborn?”
“No,”Istatedflatly.
“Goodgods,IthoughtIdid.Iwas…”Heexhaledslowly.“Iwasabitdeepinmycupslastnight.”
Andthensome.
“Mydeepestapologies,Lis.ItrulythoughtIhadtoldyouhewasalord.”Hesoundedgenuine,butatthemoment,Ididn’tcare.“Butdidyouenjoyyourself?”
“Idid,”Ianswered,feelingabitofwarmthcreepupmythroat.
“Ofcourseyoudid.”Hedrankfromhiscup.“Tellme,isittruewhattheysay?AreHyhbornlordshunglike—”HeglancedatHymel,browscrunching.“Whatdotheysay?”
“Theysaythey’rehungliketheirstallions,”Hymeltoldhim,havingpouredhimselfaglassofwhiskey.
“Ahyes.”Claude’sbrowsmoothedout.“That.Dyingtoknow.”
Iwasn’tsurewhyClaudeneededtoaskforclarificationonthatsaying.Besidesthefactthatitwasarathercommon,crassone,hewaspartHyhborn.Caelestiaswerequitewell-endowedinthatarea.“Ibelieveitwouldbeasomewhatclosecomparison.”
Paleskincrinkledatthecornersofhiseyesashelaughed.“Lookatyou,”hepurred.“Blushing.”
Forcingaslowbreathinandthenout,IpicturedoneofthosestallionscrashingthroughthestudyandtramplingtheBaron.AndHymel.Justalittle.Mysmilereturned.
“AsmuchasIwouldlovetohearallaboutwhatbroughtthatblushtoyourcheeks,thatwillhavetowait,”Claudecontinued.“Whatdidyoutwospeakof?”
“Wespokeofwherehewasfrom,butnotinanygreatdetail.”
“And?”
Ieyedhim.“Doyouknowwhoheis?Morethanjusthisname?”
Clauderaisedabrow.“AllIknowishisname,whichiswhyIsentyou,mypet.Iassumehe’ssomelordtheKingkeepscloseatthecapital.”
“He’snotjustsomelord,”Itoldhim.“He’snotevenalord,Claude.He’sthePrinceofVytrus.”
“Holyshit,”Hymelrasped,eyeswidening.
TheBaronloweredhismugtohisthigh.“Areyousure?”
Whydideveryonekeepaskingmethat?“Yes,I’mpositive.HeisthePrinceofVytrus.”
“Mygods,whyintherealmwouldhecomehere?”Claudeexclaimed.
“He’snotheretocollectanytithes,”Ishared.
“Noshit,”Claudemurmured,settlingthemugontothedesk,likelystainingthewoodwitharing.Ididn’tevenknowwhyIwasthinkingaboutthat,butitwasashametodamagesuchbeautifulwood.
“Ithoughtyou’dbemorerelieved,”Iventured.
“Iwouldbe,butI’mfarmoreconcernedabouthavingsuchabruteinthemanor.”Histhroatbobbed.“WhentheKingisdispleased,itisusuallythePrinceofVytruswhoissenttorectifythesituation,andbyrectifying,Idomeanspillingcopiousamountsofblood.”
Mychesttightened.“PrinceThornemaybemanythings,butabrute,heisnot.”
Hymel’sbrowsroseasheleanedagainstthecredenza.
“Isthatso?”Clauderemarked.
“Yes.”Myfingerstightenedaroundeachother.“I’mnotsureifwhat’ssaidabouthimisallthattrue.Hewasa…”Gentleman?Thatdidn’tsoundliketheappropriatedescriptor.Ishookmyhead.“He’snotabrute.”
TheBaronwentsilent.
“Someonesoundsliketheyhadthecommonsensefuckedoutofthem,”Hymelremarked.
Ishothimanastylook.
Hymelsmirked.
PullingmygazefromClaude’scousin,IresistedtheurgetopickuponeofthoseheavypaperweightsfromtheBaron’sdeskandlaunchitathishead.“He’sheretodiscussthesituationalongtheborderwithyou.”
Claude’sshouldersstraightened.“TheWestlands?TheIronKnights?”
Inodded.
“DoeshebelievethatthisissuewillspilloverintotherestoftheMidlands?Archwood?”
Ballsofanxietyploppedfrommychestintomystomach.“ThatIdon’tknow,”Isaid.Herewaswherethingswouldgettricky.“Itwasveryhardtoreadhim,evenwhenI…whenIwastouchinghim.”
Claudewassilentascuriositycreptintohisexpression.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“WhenItryto,youknow,connecttohim?”Mynailsdugintomypalms.ThestoryIwasfabricatingwasflimsyatbest.“Isawwhite—likeawhitewall,whichmadeithardformetogetalotofinformationoutofhim.”
“Huh.”Claudeappearedthoughtful,andforsomereasonthoseballsofanxietystartedtoknotevenfurtherinmystomach.“Thisshieldyousawwasattemptingtoblockyou?”
“Yes.Ithoughtifitwasthat,itcouldbebroken.”MystomachchurneduponmeadmittingthatoutloudtoClaude.Itleftafoultasteinmymouth.
Claudesaidnothingforalongmoment.“Aprincewouldbefarharderforyoutoreadthanalord.”HethenlookedtoHymelasIfrowned.“I’llspeakwithyoulater.”
Thedismissalwasclear.SowasHymel’sirritation.Heslammedhisglassdownonthecredenzabeforestifflyexitingthestudy.
ClaudearchedabrowasHymelshutthedoorbehindhim.“He’sapricklyfellow,isn’the?”
“Hedoesn’tlikeitwhenyoupullrankandhe’sremindedthatyou’rethebaron.”
“Andthatheisnot?”
“Yes.”IwatchedClaudestand.“Butyouknowthat.”
“IdosolovetoneedlehimwhenIcan.”Heflashedaquickgrin,motioningmetohim.“Come.”
ThedangerofClaudesomehowfiguringoutI’dadmittedtobeingsenttothePrincetogaininformationseemedtohavepassed.CuriosityroseinitsplaceasIstood,comingtowardhim.
Hemovedaside,extendingahandtothesideofhisdeskfreefromletters.“Sit.”
Ihoppeduponthedesk,wrappingmyfingersaroundtheedgeofthesmoothwood.Myfeetdangledafewinchesfromthefloor.
Claudelookedmeoverslowly,startingwithmyfaceandthenmovinglower,asifheweresearchingforsignsofsomething.
Havingnoideawhathewasupto,Iheldstillashebrushedthestrandsofhairovermyshoulder.
“Didyouhaveagoodevening?”heaskedabruptly.“Truly?”
“Yes.”
Therewasabriefsmile.“Iwantallthedetailsofwhattranspiredbetweenthetwoofyou.”
“Well…”Idrewthewordout,quicklythinkingofwhatIcouldorshouldshare.“ItappearsthatyoumayhavealsobelievedyoutoldhimthatIwouldbejoininghim,butactuallydidn’t.”
“Fuck.”Hisfingershaltedalongthestrandsofmyhair.“Seriously?”
Inodded.
“Iamsorry.Really.”Hiseyesbrieflymetmine.“Iwouldn’thavesentyouifI’dknownitwasthePrinceofVytrus.”
Iwasn’tsureIbelievedhim.Claudewascapableofmakinganyunwisedecisionwhileintoxicated.
“Howdidherespondtoyourappearance?”
“Hewas…”Mybrowsliftedashetouchedmychin,turningmyheadtotheleftandthentheright.“Hewascaughtoffguardbyit.”
“Didheharmyou?”heasked,alockofhairfallingacrosshisforehead.“Inanyway?”
“No.”Irealizedhewaslookingforasign—amarkorbruising.“Hedidn’t,Claude.”
Hesaidnothingforalongmoment.“Didyouservicehim?”
“HerequestedthatIaidhimwithhisbath.”Igavealittlejerkasthebackofhisthumbbrushedovermylowerlip.Mygazeflewtohim.Claude…hehadn’ttouchedmelikethisinwelloverayear.Maybeeventwoyears,andtherewasatimewhenIwantedhimto.WhenIlookedforwardtohimvisitingmyquartersorsummoningmetohis,maybeevendesperately,becauseIcouldtouchhimwithoutguilt,becauseheknewwhatIcoulddo—heunderstoodtheriskstohisprivacy,andIhadtoreallyconcentratetoreadhim.Myintuitionwouldn’tstayquietlong,though.Hecouldalwaystellwhenthathappened.Iwouldstiffen,pullaway.That’swhenClaudewouldpreventmefromreturninghiscaresses,histouches,andtherewasatinypartofmethathadgottenoffalittleonthat.Well,therewasapartofmethatstilldid.
“And?”Claudepressed.
“ThenheaskedformetojoinhiminhisbathandIdid.”
Onesideofhislipscurledup.“I’msureallbathswillnowbedullincomparison.”
“Perhaps,”Imurmured.
“Whatelse?”Hisgazeflickedtomine.
“He…hetouchedme.”
“Likethis?”
Inoddedashecuppedbothbreasts,dragginghisthumbsoverthepeaksofmybreasts.Awispofpleasureslowlycurledthroughme,asimplereactiontotouch—toanytouch,andnotnecessarilyClaude’s.Islidmyhandsoverthedesk,leaningforwardalittle.Hisgazedroppedoncemore.Hislipspartedashisfingerspressedintotheflesh.Claudehadalwaysbeenabreastman.Iwatchedhimslipafingeralongthenecklineofmybodice,hisskinpalerthanmyown—palerandsomuchcoolerthanThorne’s.Mybreathsnaggedagain,butitwasn’ttheBaron’stouchthatcausedthat.
“Didhefuckyou?”
TherewasasharpertwistofdesirethathadnothingtodowithwhatClaude’shandswereupto.Itwashiswords.Itwastheimageof…ofPrinceThornethatthosewordsconjuredupthatcausedmetosquirmalittle.“No.”
“Really?”Doubtfilledhistoneashelookedupatme.
“HeusedhisfingersandImyhand.”Theall-too-clearmemoryofthatthickenedmyvoiceandmyblood.“Thatwasall.”
“Well,thatissomewhatdisappointing.”
Alaughbubbledoutofme,drawinghissea-greengaze.“I’msorry.It’sjustthatyouseemgenuinelydisappointed.”
“Iam.”Asmallsmileappearedashekneadedmyskin.“Idon’tlikethatyouspendsomanynightsalone.”
NeitherdidI,but…“Ienjoyedmyself.”
“Good.”Hisattentiononcemorereturnedtomychest.Ifhecouldspendtherestofhislifefuckingbreasts,he’dbeahappyman.
Mygazedroppedtohisgroin,andIcouldseehewassemi-aroused.Icouldreachforhim.Touchhimforatleastalittlebitbeforehe’dstopme.Hewasobviouslyinsomesortofplayfulmoodthismorning.Icouldguidehimintome,urgehimtotakemerighthereonhisdesk.Itwouldn’tbethefirsttime,but..
Neitherofusreallywanteditfromtheother.Otherthanthebreasts,Iwasn’thistype.Hepreferredlighterhairandslimmerframes,evenwhenitcametothemen.Andme?Iwasn’tsurewhatmytypewas.TherewasnothinginanyparticulartraitofamanorwomanIfanciedmorethananother.
Still,ifIreachedforhim,hewouldn’trejectme.NotjustbecauseIwasawarmbody.IdidknowClaude’sintentions.HewouldgivemewhatIwantedbecausehewishedhecouldgivememore.
Butthatseemedliketoomucheffort,andforwhat?Afewsecondsofpleasureeasilyforgotten.
Andgods,wasn’tthattelling?Especiallywhenseekingpleasurewasascommonasonewhosoughttoquenchathirst?
“Didyoulearnofanythingelse?”Claudeasked,catchingmyattention.
Mythoughtsraced.ClaudelikelyexpectedthatIhadlearnedmoreaboutthePrincethanwhyhewashere.HeknewexactlywhatIcouldferretoutofanindividual.“Hehasn’tcreatedaRaeinalongtime,”Isaid,thefirstthingthatpoppedtomymind.
“Well,that’sunexpected,”hecommented,drawinghisthumbbackoverthetipofmybreast.
Inodded.“Andhe’salsosearchingforsomething—orwas.”
Claude’stouchstilled.“What?”
“Hewassearchingforsomethinghe…hebelievedthatanotherHyhbornhadinformationon,”Isaidslowly,relyingfullyonwhatthePrincehadsharedwithme.
Lightblue-greeneyesmetmine.“Doyouknowwhohewaslookingfor?”
Ishookmyhead.“ThatIcouldn’treadfromhim.”
Hislasheslowered,andhewasquietforseveralmoments.“ThePrinceofVytrusrodeoutthismorningatdawn,”Claudesaid,runninghishandsovermybreastsoncemore,andthenhishandswenttothetable,besidemine.“Hetoldoneoftheguardshe’dbebackbysupper.Ifigurethatiswhenheplanstodiscussthingswithme.”
Isearchedmyselfforahintofdisappointmentoverhimceasingtotouchmeandfoundnothingbutapathy.Ididn’twantthat.Iwantedtofindmore.“Doyouwishtoinspectanywhereelse,likebetweenmythighs,forsignsofthePrince’sbrutality?”
Claudesnorted.“Maybelater.I’mexpectedtojointheBowerbrothers.”
TheBowerswereapairofaristosonswhowereasoftenrecklessastheBaron.Ireallyhopedheplannedonkeepinghismindclear.
“Iwantyouwithmewhenhedoesspeakwithme.”
Mystomachdipped.“Why?”
“BecauseIwanttomakesureheistellingmeeverything,”hesaid,fixingthelaceonmybodice.“Andthathehasnoillintentionswhenitcomestohispresence.”
Shit.
Iwouldbeasmuchhelptohimasacrystalball.Hesteppedback,andIslippedfromthedesk.Thegownpooledagainsttheflooraspanicthreatenedtospiral.
“I’llhaveHymelsummonyouwhenhereturns,sostayclose.”Hebent,kissingmycheek.“I’llseeyoulater.”
IstoodmotionlessasClaudestrolledoutofthestudy,andIremainedthereforseveralmoments.“Fuck,”Imoaned,lettingmyheadfallback.
“No,thankyou.”
MyheadjerkedupwardandtwistedtowardthesoundofHymel’svoice.
Hestoodintheopendoorway,theever-presentsmirkplasteredacrosshisfeatures.“I’msuremycousinalreadytookcareofthatforyoutoday.”Hepaused.“Thenagain,thatwould’vebeenunimpressivelyquick.”
Rollingmyeyes,IignoredhimasIheadedtowardthedoor.
Hymeldidn’tmove.“Whatdidhewanttotalktoyouaboutinprivate?”hedemanded.“WasitaboutPrinceRainer?”
Istoppedthen,butIdidn’trespond.
“HejustaskedmeinthehalltosendamessagetothePrinceofPrimverarequestingtomeetbutwouldn’ttellmewhy,”Hymelsaid.
Surpriseflickeredthroughme.Coulditbeabouttheshadowmarket?Ifso,washejustnowgettingaroundtodoingthat?Weekslater?
“I’mbettingyouknowwhyhe’srequestedameeting,”Hymelsurmised.
Ihonestlydidn’t,butwhatIfoundinterestingwasthefactthatneitherdidHymel.IdoubteditwassomethingthathadsimplyslippedClaude’smind.IsaidnothingasIbrushedpasthim.
Heturnedquickly,grabbingmywrist.Griptight,heyankedmeback.Istumbled,catchingmyselfasmyfuriousgazeshottohis.Iyankedonhishold—
Hymeltwistedhiswristsharply.Iyelpedatthesharp,suddenpainradiatingupmyarm.Hiseyeslitupandthetiltofhissmilewassickening.“Iaskedyouaquestion.”
“Iknow,”Iseethed,watchinghiseyeswideninresponsetomeactuallyspeakingtohim.“AndI’mignoringyou,soletmego.”
Hislipspeeledback.“Youthinkyou’resospecial,don’tyou?Yetyou’re—”
“Nothingmorethanawhore.Iknow.Iheardyouthefirstfivehundredtimesyousaidthat.AtleastI’mgettingoff.”Iheldhisstare,knowingIwasabouttodeliveralow,meanblowthatwasascruelashewas.“Can’tsaythesameaboutyouthough.”
ThebackofHymel’sotherhandcutthroughthespacebetweenus,aimingstraightformyface,butsomehow,Iwasfaster.Icaughthisarm,myfingerscurlingintothecrispnessofhistunic.“Donoteverthinktostrikeme.”
Hymel’sjawloosened,hisfacepalingashedroppedmyachingwrist.Ourstareslocked,andforamoment,Iwould’veswornIsawfearinhiseyes.Real,primalfear.Thenhisexpressionsmoothedout.
“Orwhat,Lis?”
Aseriesoftinglesranalongthebackofmyheadasimagesfloodedmymind—horrificimagesofHymeltakinghisownsword,impalinghimselfonit.Mygriptightenedonhisarm.Acoldnessrampedupinsideme.Anenergy.Apower.WhatIsawwasnofuturesetinstone.ItwaswhatIwishedtomakeHymeldo—
Idroppedhisarm,takingastepback.Myheartthumpedunsteadily.
Hymeleyedmeforseveralseconds.“It’sfunny,youknow?You.Yourabilities.Onetouchandyoucanknowaperson’snameandtheirdesires.Theirfuture.Evenhowtheydie.”Hislipscurvedintoasmirkbehindtheneatlytrimmedbeard.“Andyet,youdon’tknowshit.”
“Maybe,”Isaidsoftly.“ButIdoknowhowyoudie.”
Hewentrigid.
“Doyouwanttoknow?”Ismiledathim.“It’snotpleasant.”
Inhalingsharply,Hymeltookasteptowardme,butstoppedhimself.Withoutanotherword,hepivotedandstalkedoutofthechamber.
“Okaythen,”Imurmured,glancingdownatmywrist.Theskinwasalreadyturningred.“Whatanasshole.”
ButsowasI.
I’dlied.I’dnevertouchedHymelorpushedhardenoughtoseehisfuture.Ihadnoideahowhedied.Andbecausekarmawasaboutasrealastheideaoffate,he’dprobablyoutliveusall.
IlefttheBaron’sstudy,anditwasn’tuntilIwashalfwaytomyquarters,whileIpicturedmyselfrepeatedlykickingHymelbetweenthelegs,whensomethingaboutClaudestruckme.Itbroughtmetoacompletestopbythewindowsfacingthestables.
Claudehadn’taskedwhatPrinceThornehadbeensearchingforinformationonbutwho.
Ipacedthelengthofmyquarters,thinkingoverwhatClaudehadsaid.Itwaslikelyjustaslipofthetongue,sayingwhowhenhemeantwhat,but…
Myintuitiontoldmethatwasn’tthecase.
Butwhatcoulditevenmean—ifClaudeknewthatthePrincehadbeeninsearchofinformationonsomeone?Whydidthatmatter?
Myintuitionwasnohelpthere.
WhatIreallyneededtobestressedaboutwashowIwassupposedtobeofaidtotheBaronwhenhespokewithPrinceThorne.MystomachtwistedasIallbutstompedintomybedchamber.Thelazychurnoftheceilingfankepttheroomcool,butitwasstillfartoowarm.Iundidthebuttonsofmybodiceandshimmiedoutofthegown.Ileftitonthefloor,tootiredand,well,toolazytohangitup.
Dressedonlyinathigh-lengthchemise,Iploppeddownonthebedandlayflatonmyback,restingmyachingwristonmystomach.Itentativelyturnedit.Itwasdefinitelygoingtoturnalovelyshadeofbluebytheday’send,butitwasn’tsprainedorbroken.
Iwasluckyforthat.
Therehadbeentimesinthepast,whenI’dbeencaughtstealingfoodorbeingwhereIwasn’tsupposedtobe,whenIhadn’tbeensolucky.
Istaredattheceiling,thoughtsreturningtothissupper.Icouldn’treadthePrince.UnlessIcrackedtheshield.SomethingthatClaudeseemedtothinkIcoulddo,andIwasn’tsureifthatwasbecauseI’dledhimtobelievethatorifhealreadyknew.
Gods,maybeIshould’vejusttoldthetruth.Toolatenow.Now,Iwasjustgoingtohaveto…figuresomethingout.
Isnorted,wantingtosmacksomebetterlifechoicesintomyself,becauseitwasunlikelythatIwouldthinkofsomethinglessidioticthanlying.
Gods,Iwasgoingtobeseeinghimagain.
Anedgynervousnesssweptthroughme.Itwasn’tabadfeeling,nothingliketheanxietyofdread.Itfeltalotlike…likeanticipation,andthatdidworryme.IhadnobusinessbeingexcitedwhenitcametoanyHyhborn,especiallyonesuchasthePrinceofVytrus.EvenifIhadn’tseenhimincinerateaHyhbornwithhishandorripoutalowborn’sthroat,theverylastthingIshouldfeelwasanticipation.
AnyinteractionwithaHyhbornwaspotentiallydangerouswhentheycouldlearnofmyabilitiesandassumeIwasapractitionerofbonemagic.EspeciallywithinArchwoodManor,wheretherewereonetoomanywhoknewofmygifts.WhatIshouldbeanticipatingwasthemomentthePrinceleftArchwood.
ButIwasn’t.
MaybeHymelhadbeensomewhatright,andI’dhadthecommonsensefingeredoutofme.
Sighing,mymindfounditswaybacktoClaude.IthoughtbacktothefirsttimeI’dmethim,andhowhisfeatureshadturnedfromangertosurpriseasIwarnedhimaboutthemanwhowassetonrobbinghim.
Butthatsurprisehadn’tlastedlong.Hedidn’tdoubtorquestionwhatItoldhimlikemanydidwhenIfirstwarnedthemaboutsomething.He’dsimplyacceptedthatwhatIknewwastrue.Hewasn’tthefirsttodothat,buthewasdefinitelythefirstaristothatbelievedmewithoutquestion.Maybethatshouldhaveraisedsomequestions,butIwasjusttoodamngratefulwhenClaudeshowedhisappreciationbyofferingaplacetoworkandstay,notjustformebutalsoforGrady.Iwantedawarm,safebedandIdidn’twanttohavetostealstalebreadtonotstarve.Ididn’twanttoeveragainhavetowatchGradysickenandhavetherebenothingIcoulddotohelphim.
ButmaybeIshould’veaskedquestions?
Instead,IhadconfidedinClaude,tellinghimalot.HowGradyhadgottensosickwhenwewereyounger.Theorphanagesthatweremorelikeworkhomes.EvenaboutUnionCity.Andhehadtoldmeabouthisfamily,theHyhbornbloodthatcameinfromhisfather’ssideandhowHymelhadbelievedhewouldbenamedbaronupontheelder’spassing.ButIdidn’taskquestions.
Thatwasanotherthingthatwastoolate,butifClaudeknewsomething,likeifhehadmetanotherlikemeinthepast,whywouldhekeepthatfromme?ClaudesometimeswenttoextremestomakesureIwashappy.Wouldhereallyruntheriskofmefindingoutheknewsomethingandkeptitfromme?Eyesdriftingshut,Irolledontomyside.
MythoughtsfinallyfloatedtheirwaybacktolastnightasIlaythere—toPrinceThorneandthetimewithhim.NotthepleasurehegavemeorthereleaseIprovidedhim,butthosebriefmomentswherehe’d…he’dsimplyheldme.
Ituckedmylegsclosetomystomachinasadattempttore-createthatfeelingofbeingheld,of…ofbelonging.
Ofrightness.
Itwasasillyfeeling,butIdozedofftoit,andwhenIopenedmyeyesagain,thedappledsunlighthadshiftedfromonesideofthewalltotheother,signalingthatitwastheafternoon.Ilaythereforseveralmoments,myeyesheavy,andIwasclosetofallingbacktosleepwhenIrealizedthatthechangeinsunlightwasn’ttheonlythingthathadshiftedintothechamber.
Theairwasdifferent.
Thicker.
Charged.
Ashiverywaveofawarenessdanceddownthecurveofmyspine.Thecobwebsofsleepclearedfrommymindasmyheartstuttered.
Iwasn’talone.
Slowly,IstraightenedmylegsandroseontomyelbowasIlookedovermyshouldertoseewhatIalreadysensed—alreadyknewonsomesortofprimallevel—andsawPrinceThorne.CHAPTER19
AllIcoulddoforseveralmomentswasstareatPrinceThorne,thinkingImustbehallucinatingthathesatonthesetteebytheterracedoors,theankleofonelonglegrestingontopofanother.Abeamofsunlightcutacrossthedarktunicstretchedacrosshischest,butfromtheshouldersuphewascastinshadow.
“Goodafternoon.”PrinceThorneliftedaglassofamber-huedliquid.“Didyouhavearestfulnap?”
AsIblinkedrapidly,arushofdisbeliefsnappedmeoutofmystupor.“Youseemnottobeawareofthis,butyouappeartohavelostyourwaytoyourownchambers.”
“I’mexactlywhereIintendtobe.”
Icouldpracticallyhearthesmileinhisvoice,anditmademebristle.“Thenwhatareyoudoinghere?”Andhowlonghadhebeensittingthere?Mygazeswungbacktotheglasshe’dtakenadrinkfrom,thenloweredtothearmofthesettee,thennarrowed.“Didyouhelpyourselftomywhiskey?”
“I’msightseeing,”heanswered.“AndIneededrefreshmentwhiledoingso.”
Thepoundingofmyheartslowed.“Thereisnothingofinteresttoseeinmyprivatequarters,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected,andthoughhiseyeswerehiddentome,Ifelthisheatedstaremoveoverthecurveofmyhip…tothelengthofmyleg,andawholelotofmylegswasexposedtohim.“AndIdisagree.Thereisan…abundanceofinteresttolookupon.”
WhatevermodestyIpreviouslylackeddecidedtorearitshead.Isatup,pressingmylegstogether.MywristachedasItuggedonthechemise,whichdidverylittletocoverme.Eveninthelowlightofmybedchamber,thematerialwasbasicallytransparent.SomethingIhadafeelinghewaswellawareofasIglaredathim.
Adeepchuckleradiatedfromthesun-streakedshadows,sendinganoddmixtureofsensationsripplingthroughoutme.Wariness.Anacidicburnofunease.Worseyet,asweettrillofanticipation,whichIwouldblameonbeinghalfasleep.Therewasaheftydoseofcuriosity,though.Icouldn’tfathomwhyPrinceThornewouldattempttoseekmeoutinprivatelikethisunless…unlesshewasinneedofbeingserviced?
Logically,thatmadenosense.Hedidn’tbelievethatIwasacourtesan.Still,mybodyhadnoplanstolistentocommonsense.Apulseofdesirelitupmyveins,causingseveralpartsofmybodytothrobtolife—
Goodgods,whatinthewholerealmwaswrongwithme?Actually,Iknewtheanswer.Itwaswhathewasthatwaswrongwithme.AHyhborn’spresenceandtheirsensualeffectonlowborn.Itmadesensethataprince’spresencewouldbeevenmore…hardtoignoreandstronger.
Inreality,ifhehadsoughtmeouttoservicehim,itwaslikelyonlybecause,ashehadsaid,hewasalwayshungry.So,therewasnoreasontoallowmyselftobecontrolledbymyapparentlyeasilyinfluencedhormones.Iliftedmychin.“I’mnot…workingrightnow.”
Hisheadtiltedtooneside.“Itpleasesmegreatlytohearthat.”
Mymouthpuckered.“Andwhywoulditpleaseyou?”
“BecauseI’dratherourinteractionsgoingforwardbebetweenyouandme,”hesaid.“Andnotdictatedbyathirdparty.”
“Therewillbenointeractionsbetweenusgoingforward,”Isaid,whichwasaliesincetherewouldbe,buthisuninvitedpresenceirkedme…andthrilledme,whichalsoservedtoreallyirritateme.
“Iwouldn’tcountonthat.”
Mychestrosewithadeep,shortbreath.Therewassomethingdifferentabouthim.Ididn’tknowifitwashisunexpectedvisitorthefactthatIcouldn’tseehisface,orifitwashiswords.Itcould’vebeenallthosethings,butadifferentkindofinstinctcamealivethen,onethathadnothingtodowithmyabilitiesandwaspurelymortal.Primal.IturgedthatIriseslowlyandleavethisspace—thatIdidn’trun,becauseifso,hewouldgivechaselikeanypredatorwould.
Intheshadows,thestarburstsinhiseyesbrightened.PrinceThorne’sentirebodyappearedtotense,asifhesensedIwasabouttotakeflight.Hischindippedintothestrokeofsunlight.Thecurveofhislipswasfullofpredatoryintent.
AskippingmotionwentthroughmychestasIquicklylookedaway,feelingalittlebreathless.
“Youdidn’tanswer,”PrinceThornesaid,drawingmyattentionbacktohim.Hetookanothersipofmywhiskey.“Didyouhavearestfulnap?”
“ItwasquiterestfuluntilIwaswokenuptofindsomeoneuninvitedinmychambers,”Ipointedout.“Whyareyouhere?Honestly?”
Thoselong…devilishfingersofhistappedalongthearmofthesettee.“WouldyoubelievemeifIsaidImissedyouandwantedtoseeyou?”
Isnorted.“No.”
“Yourlackoffaithinmyintentionswoundsme,na’laa.”
“Idon’tknowyouwellenoughtohaveanyknowledgeofyourintentionsorfaithinthem.”
“Really?”PrinceThornedrawled,thenleanedmorefullyintothesunlight.Mychestfelttootightashetiltedhisheadtotheside.Hishairwaspulledbackfromhisfaceandonlyawavystrandglancedoffhischeek.Multicoloredeyeslockedontomine.“Youfeelyoudon’tknowmewellenoughafterIhadmyfingersinsideyouandyourhandonmycock?”
Anothersharpburstofdesiredartedthroughme.ThatwastheabsolutelastthingIneededtoberemindedof.“Asifthathasanythingtodowithknowingyou.”
“True,”hemurmured,anamusedhalfgrinformingonhismouth.
Ifoldedanarmovermywaist.“Howdidyouevenknowwhichchambersweremine?Betteryet,howdidyougetinhere?Thedoorwaslocked.”
Onesideofhislipscurvedup.“DoyouthinkasimplelockcanpreventmefrombeingwhereIwanttobe?”
Mystomachdipped.“Well,thatissomewhat…creepy.”
“Maybe.”Hewasclearlyunbotheredbythatfact.“AstohowIknewwhichquarterswereyours,Ihavemyways.”
Istaredathim.“Attheriskofsoundingrepetitive—”
“WhatIjustsaidwasalsosomewhat…”Thetilttohislipswasnowdaring.“Creepy.”
“Yes.”Myfingerswenttothelittleredbowatthenecklineofmychemise.“ButIcanseethateventhoughyou’reawareofbeingcreepy,thathasn’tstoppedyou.”
“Ithasn’t.”
“Well,Isupposebeingawareofyourtroublesomebehaviorisonehalfofthebattle.”
“ItwouldonlybeabattleifIfoundmybehaviortobetroublesome.”
“Atleastyou’rehonest,”Imuttered,twistingtheribbon.
“Oneofushastobe.”
Myeyesnarrowed.“I’mnotsurewhatyou’reinsinuating.”
“You’renot?”Hesettheglassofwhiskeyhe’dhelpedhimselftoontothesmallendtable.
“No.”IfeignedayawnasIeyedhim.Hisbodywasreclinedinanalmostarrogantsprawl.Mygazewenttohishand,andimmediatelyIthoughtofhishandslippingbeneaththewater.Atautcurllowinmybellyfollowed.
“Whatareyouthinkingabout,na’laa?”
“Stopcallingmethat.AndIwasn’tthinkingofanything.”
“WouldyougetmadifIsaidyouwerelying?”
“Yes,butIhaveafeelingthat’snotgoingtostopyou.”
“It’snot.”Thathalfsmileremained.“Yourpulsepickedupanditwasnotfearorangerthatcausedit.Itwasarousal.”
Inhalingsharply,Iresistedtheurgetopickupapillowandthrowitathim.“Andsowhatifitwas?Youshouldbeusedtoit,beingwhatyouare.It’sjusta…anaturalreactiontoyourpresence,notoneIcancontrol.”
“Oh,na’laa,”hechuckled.“Idoenjoyyourlies.”
“What?I’mnotlying.”
“Butyouare.Whatyouspeakofsoundsmoreofacompulsion,andthatisnotwhatthisis.Ourpresencedoesn’tincitewhat’snotalreadythere,”hetoldme.“Itdoesn’tforceyoutofeelpleasureifyouwerenotalreadyopentodoingso.Itsimplyheightenswhateverisalreadythere.”
Isnappedmymouthshut.
Heraisedabrow.“Yourresponsetomeisn’tsomethingtobeashamedof.”
“I’mnot.”Ishiftedagain,puttingweightonmyrighthand.Wincingattheflareofpain,Ijerkedmyhandfromthebed.
“Sure.”Herosetohisfullheight.
Itensed,fingersstillingontheribbon.Mypulsewaspounding,everypartofmewhollyawareofhowhisstarehadn’tleftmefromthemomentI’dawakened.“Youshouldn’tbeinhere.”
“Why?”hequestionedasheapproachedthebed.Hedidn’tsomuchwalkashedidprowl.“Wouldyourbaronbecomeupset?”
“No,hewouldnot,butthat’sbesidethepoint.Ididn’tinviteyouinhere.”
“Ididknock,”hesaid,stoppingatthesideofthebed.“Youdidn’tanswer,andI’mgladtohearhewouldn’tbedispleased.”
Iignoredthelastcomment.“Thenyoudecided—what?Tocomerightin?”
“Obviously,”hemurmured,gazedroppingtothelengthofmyleg.“ThenIdecidedtoallowyoutosleep.Youlooked…sopeaceful.”Hisstareliftedtomine.“I’massumingthatyouwantmetoapologizeforenteringwithoutpermission.TorecognizethatI’veoversteppedboundaries.”
“Thatwouldbeagoodstart,”Iretorted.“ButIhavethedistinctimpressionthatyou’renotgoingto.”
Hisanswerwasaclose-lippedgrin.“I’mgoingtoletyouinonsomethingyou’renotquitewillingtoadmit.Youdon’tfindmybehaviortobeallthattroublesome.”
Iswallowed.“You’rewrong.”
“I’mneverwrong,remember?”
“Irememberyousayingthat.”Heartthrumming,Iwatchedhimsitontheedgeofthebed,besideme.“ButIalsorememberfindingitunlikelythatanyonecanneverbewrong.”
“YoumightbeannoyedthatIletmyselfin,”hesaid,plantinghishandontheothersideofmylegs.
“Might?”
Onesideofhislipscurledup.“Okay,youareannoyed,butyoudonotfindmypresenceheretroublesomeatall.”
ThebreathItookwasfullofthatsoft,woodsyscentthatIstillcouldn’tquiteplace.“Imustadmit,YourGrace,thatI’mdisappointedinyou.”
“Thorne,”hecorrectedyetagain.“AndhowhaveIdisappointedyou?”
“Iwould’vethoughtaHyhbornofyourpowerwouldbebetteratreadingpeople,”Isaid.“Apparently,Igaveyoutoomuchcredit.”
Helaughedsoftlyashischindipped.Anotherlockofgolden-brownhairfell,buttohisjawthistime.“IdobelieveyouhaveforgottensomethingveryimportantthatIsharedwithyouinthegardens.I’mtunedintoyou.Iknowexactlywhathascausedeverycatchofyourbreathandraceofyourpulse.You’renottroubledbymyappearance.”Thicklashesloweredashisgazesweptoverme.“You’reexcitedbyit,na’laa.”
Heathitmycheeks.Hewasright,butIwastroubledbythetruthinhiswords.
PrinceThorneliftedhisbrows.“Youhavenothingtosaytothat?”
Itwistedtheribbontightlyaroundmyfinger.“No.”
Hechuckleddeeply.“Iseeyouhelpedyourselftosomethingthatdoesn’tbelongtoyou.”
“What?”Ifrowned;thenheglancedpointedlyatthedaggerrestingonthenightstand,besidethesheathandharnessGradyhadfoundforme.“Areyougoingtotakeit?”
“ShouldI?”
“Idon’tknow.Aren’tyouworriedaboutmeusingitagainstyou?”
“Notparticularly,”hereplied,andirritationflared.“Thatbothersyou.”
“Yeah,”Iadmitted.“It’skindofinsulting.”
“It’sinsultingthatIdon’tfearyoutryingtoharmme?”
Ithoughtthatover.“Kindof.”
PrinceThornelaughedthen,deepandsmoky,andIdecidedIalsofoundthosekindsoflaughstobeinsultingduetohownicetheywere.
“Maybeifyoudid,youwouldn’tbargeintomyspaceunannouncedorinvited,”Ireasoned.
“No,thatprobablywouldn’tstopmeeither.”
“Nice.”
“Idohaveareasonforbeinghere.”
“Otherthanannoyingme?”Icountered.
“Inadditiontothat.”Hisgazedroppedtomyfinger.Istoppedmessingwiththeribbonashiseyesreturnedtomine.“Iwantedtoseehowthingswentwithyourbaron.”
Istartedtospeak,somewhatrelieved…anddismayedthatheactuallydidhaveareasontobehere,butmygazelockedwithhis,andIsuddenlywantedtoaskifheeverthoughtoftheyounggirlhe’dfoundintheorphanage.IwantedtoknowifhehadspokentomelikeIbelievedhehad,butGradysaidwasimpossible.Iwanted…
Clearingmythroat,Ilookedaway.“Ididspeakwithhimthismorning.HewasrelievedthatyouwerenothereduetotheKingbeingdispleasedwithhim.”
“IneversaidtheKingwasn’tdispleasedwithhim.”
Myheadjerkedbacktohim.Anunsteadyrushofbreathleftme.Hewasclosersomehow;nowlessthanafootseparatedus.“What—?”
PrinceThorne’shandcurledaroundmyelbow,andbeforeIknewwhathewasabout,heliftedmyrightarm.Thelineofhisjawtightened.“You’rebruised.”Thecolorsofhiseyeshadstoppedmoving,buthispupilshadexpanded.Hecarefullyturnedmyhandover,exposingtheinsideofmywristtothethinsliceofsunlight.“IknowIdidn’tdothislastnight.Whodid?”
Ishookmyhead.“Ididn’tevenknowitwasbruised,”Ilied,becausetherewasabsolutelynowayIwouldspeakthetruth,noteventoGrady.Itwas…itwasjusttooembarrassing,andIknewitwaswrongtofeelthatway,butitdidn’tchangehowIfelt.“Ihavenoideahowthathappened.”
“Thebruiseslooklikefingertips.”Hisvoicewaslow,andachillhittheair.
TinygoosebumpsappearedovermyfleshasIglancednervouslyaroundthechamber.“Itmustbeanillusion.”Ipulledathishold.
PrinceThorneheldon,slidinghislongfingersovermywrist.Theymovedinslow,smoothcircles.“Yourskinisfartoolovelytobebruised,”heremarked,someoftheiceeasingfromhistone.“Tellme,na’laa,doesyourbaronnottreathisfavorite…whateveryouarewell?”
“I…”Itrailedoffasheliftedmywristtohismouth.Hepressedhislipstotheskin—lipsthatwerehardandunyielding,andyetsomehowsoftassatin.Myownpartedasastrangetinglingwarmthspreadacrossmywrist,easing…thenerasingtheachethere.Iliftedmygazetohisasheloweredmyhandtomylap.Thebruisesweregone.He’ddoneitagain.
Maybehiskissesdidheal?
Hisfingersglidedupmyarm.“Whobruisedyou?”
“Itoldyoualready.Noone.”
Hetiltedhishead,sendingawaveofhairacrosshisjaw.“Hasanyonetoldyouthatyou’reaterribleliar?”
“Hasanyonetoldyouthatyouknownotwhatyouspeakof?”Isnapped.
“Never.”Hischinlifted,aquizzicallooktohisexpression.“Andnoonehaseverspokentomelikeyoudo.”
Thatshould’vebeenawarningtowatchmytone,butIhuffed.“Idon’tbelievethatforonesecond.”
“AndIdon’tbelieveyou.”
“Ithinkwe’vealreadyestablishedthat,”Iretorted.
Whitestreakedacrosstheblueofhiseyes,thenspreadintothegreen.“DoestheBarontreatyoukindly?”
“Yes,hedoes.”
Anotherstarburstexplodedalongtheblueofhiseyes.“WhatlittleIknowalreadytellsadifferentstory.”
“Howso?”
“Idon’tthinkIneedtoexplainhowrecklesshewaswithyourlifelastnight,”hesaid,amusclethrummingathistemple.“Butjustincaseyouhaven’trealizedthis—theBaronsentyouintothequartersofaHyhbornprincethatwasunawareofyourarrival.Mymencould’vekilledyou.Icouldhave.Anotherofmykindwould’vedonethatandmore.”
Myskinchilled,notathiswordsbutbecauseIknewhespokethetruth.
“Andhedidthiswhenitisclearthatyou’renotasexperiencedasyouwantedsobadlyformetobelieve,”hecontinued,andIjerkedatthegrazeofhisfingersalongthecurveofmyarm.Hisfeatherlighttouchkickedoffariotofconfusingreactions.Ishouldbeangeredthathewasinmychambers,touchingmeanddemandinganswersofme.
ExceptIdidn’tfeelanger.
AllIfeltwasthetight,shiverywavethatfollowedthepathofhisfingertipsoverthecurveofmyelbow.Howmyskinsuddenlyfelthotashecaughtholdoftheloosenedsleeveofmychemise,and…andanticipation.
“So,Ialreadyknowtheanswertomyquestion,”hesaid.Hiseyesneverleftmineashepausedtobrushthestrandsofmyhairback.Nordidtheylowerashisfingersdrifteddownmychemise,straighteningthedaintylacethere.
Istruggledtogathermyscatteredthoughts.Withoutmyintuitiontoguideme,IhadnoideawhythisprincecaredabouthowIwastreated.Ialsodidn’tknowwhathe’ddototheBaron,andwhileClaudesometimesbehavedasanovergrownman-childwhohadmademorebaddecisionsthanevenme,hewasthebestmanyofushad.“TheBarontreatsmekindly.”Iheldhisgaze,notevenallowingmyselftoconsidertellinghimithadbeenHymel.NotbecauseIsoughttoprotectthatbastard,butbecauseIknewClaudewouldreactveryunwiselytohiscousinbeingharmed.“Hetreatsallofuskindly.”
“All?”
“Hisparamours.Askanyofthem,andtheywilltellyouthesame.”
“So,that’swhatyouare?Aparamour?”
Inodded.
“Hesendshisfavoriteparamourtothechambersofothermen?”
“Wearenotexclusive.”Weweren’treallyanything,butthatseemedlikeamootpointatthemoment.“Noneofhisparamoursare.”
“Interesting.”
Iraisedmybrowsathim.“Notreally.”
“Wewillhavetodisagreeonthat.”PrinceThorne’sheaddipped,andmybreathcaughtatthefeelofhismouthbeneathmyear,againstmythunderingpulse.Hekissedthespacethere.“Whobruisedyou,na’laa?”
Pullingback,Igainedsomedistancebetweenus.“Noone,”Isaid.“Ilikelycauseditwhile…whilegardening.”
Slowlychurningeyesliftedtomeetmine.Severalsecondspassedwithneitherofussayingaword,asifwebothhadfallenpreytoasuddentrance.Itwashewhobrokethesilence.“Gardening?”
Inodded.
“Ididn’trealizethatwassuchaviolentactivity?”
Mylipspressedtogether.“It’snormallynot.”
“Andhowdidyoubruiseyourwristwhilegardening?”
“Idon’tknow.IalreadytoldyouIwasn’tevenawarethatithadhappened.”Frustrationrose,andIscootedback,awayfromhim.Swingingmylegsoffthebed,Istood.“Andwhydoyouevencare?”
PrinceThorneangledhisbodytowardme,andthemomenthefacedme,Irealizedthatstandingwasn’texactlythebrightestmove.Istoodinthefilteredbeamsofsunlight,andImightaswellbenude.
Hisgazestrayedfromminethenanddriftedlower,overthesleevesandlacehe’dstraightened.Thetipsofmybreaststingled,hardeningunderhisstare.Aheatedshiverfollowedhisgazeoverthecurveofmywaistandtheswellofmyhip.
Icould’vemovedtocovermyself,butIdidn’t,andithadnothingtodowithhimalreadyseeingmewithoutastitchofclothingtwicenow.
Itwasthesamereasonaslastnight.I…Iwantedhimtolook.
Andhedidashetippedforwardandrose.Helookedforsolongthatmusclesallalongmybodybegantotightenin…inheadyanticipation.
Theurgecameagain,theonethatgoadedmetoturnandtakeflight,knowingthathewouldchase.Butitwasmore.Iwantedthat.Himtochase.
Thecolorsofhiseyesweremovingagain,thestarsbrightening.Shadowsformedinthesuddenhollowsofhischeeks,anditcouldhavebeenmyimagination,butIthoughthewantedtogivechase.
Allofthatsounded…insanetome.Ididn’twanttobechasedor…orcapturedbyanyone,especiallynotaprince.
Trembling,Iheldmyselfcompletelystill.WhenIspoke,Ibarelyrecognizedmyvoice.“Iaskedwhyyoucared?”
PrinceThornedidn’trespondforalongmoment,andthenheinhaleddeeply,thetensionleakingfromhisbodyand…andthenmine.“WhywouldIcareaboutsomelowborngirlwhopretendsatbeingacourtesan—”
“I’mnotagirl,”Iinterrupted,irritatedbyhim—byme.“Andthatissomethingyoushouldbewellawareof.”
“Youarecorrect.”Hisgazesweptovermeinalanguidperusal,andtherightsideofhislipscurvedup.“Myapologies.”
Istiffenedatthelow,sultrydrawl.“Thatsoundedmorelikeinnuendothananapology.”
“Probablybecausetheflushinyourcheekswhenperturbedremindsmeofthesameflushofwhenyoucome,”hesaid,andmymouthdroppedopen.“Iwouldapologizeforthatalso,butIhaveafeelingthattoowouldsoundlikeaninnuendo.”
“Ohmygods,”Ihissed.“Youare…”
“What?”Thecolorsofhiseyeswerechurningagain.“Captivatingtoyou?Iknow.There’snoneedtotellme.”
“Wasn’tplanningto.”
“Whateveryousay,na’laa,”hemurmured.
Myhandscurledintofists.
Hisfaintgrinfadedasheglancedattheterracedoors.Amomentpassed.“YouaskedwhyIcare?”Hisbrowsknitted.“Thereisthis…feelingthatIknowyou.It’sthisstrangesensationthatwe’vemetbefore.”
Thewordswehavecreptupmythroat,butIcouldn’tgetthempastmylips.Thewantforhimtoknowthatwehadbattledwiththewarningthatdoingsocouldbeamistake.Ifrozeinconfusion,notunderstandingeitherresponse.
“Otherthanthat?”Thelineofhisjawtensed.“Ireallydon’tknow.Youshouldn’tmatter.”
Iblinked.“Wow.”
“Youmisunderstand.”
ThePrincewasn’ttheonlyonefeelingstrangesensations.Currently,therewassomethingakintothestingof…ofrejectionburningatmyinsides.“No,Ithinkthatwasprettyclear.”
Heturnedtome.“Idon’tmeanthatpersonally,Calista.”
Ishiveredatthesoundofmyname.
Hetiltedhishead,seemingtocatchthatresponse.“IamaDeminyen.Doyouunderstandwhatthatmeans?”
“Uh,thatyouareaverypowerfulHyhborn?”
Alow,darklaughlefthim.“ItmeansthatIamthefurthestthingfromamortal—fromhumanity—youcanget.Icareaboutmankindasawhole,butthatisonlybecauseofwhatIam.HowIwascreated.”
“Created?”Iwhispered.
Hisstareheldmine.“Deminyensarenotbornlikethecaelestia.”
“Iknow.”SomethingstruckmethenasIstaredathim.“Youwere—”Istoppedmyselffromsayinghe’dappearedalittleyoungerwhenwefirstmet.HehadappearedyoungertomethenincomparisontoLordSamriel,buthisfeatureshadn’treallychangedinthetwelveyearssince.“Whatareyousaying?Thatyoucannotfeelcompassionorcaring?”
“SomeDeminyenscan.Lordsandladies,iftheychoosetodoso.”
“Butnotyou?”Ilookedhimover.“Ornotprincesandprincesses?TheKing?”
“Notus.”
“Becauseyou’remorepowerful?”
“It’smore…complicatedthanthat,butyes.”
Myforeheadcreased.“FromwhatIknowofyou,Idon’tbelievethatyou’reincapableofsuch.”
“Ithoughtwedidn’tknoweachotheratall.”
Inarrowedmyeyes.“Iknowenoughaboutyoutobelievethat.”
ThePrincestaredatmeinsilencebeforemurmuring,“Precious.”
“Whatis?”
“You.”
Crossingmyarms,Irolledmyeyes.“Okay.Whatever—”
“I’veshownyoucompassion,na’laa.Thatdoesn’tmeanIamacompassionatebeing.”
Littleofthatstatementmadesensetome.“Ithinkyou’rewrong.”
“Really?”Thattightsmileresurfaced.“Andwhydoyouthinkthis?”
“Becauseyousaidyouwould’vebeendisappointedifyouhaddestroyedArchwood,”Ipointedout.“Andit’snotlikeourcityrepresentsallofmankind.”
“AndIalsosaidthatwouldn’thavestoppedmefromdoingso.”
Mystomachdipped.“Yes,butyoualsosaidthatyouthoughtturningasoulintoaRaewasunfair.Ifyouwereincapableoffeelingcompassion,wouldn’tyoualsobeincapableoffeelingremorseorguiltorevenfairness?”
PrinceThorneopenedhismouth,buthesaidnothingashestaredatme.Secondstickedby,andIthought…Ithoughthepaledalittle.
“You’reright,”hesaidhoarsely.
Thenheturnedandleftthechamberswithoutsayinganotherword,leavingmetowonderwhytheideaofhimhavingcompassionwouldcausehimsuchobviousunease.
PrinceThorne’sstrangeresponsetotheideathathehadcompassionlingeredwithmethroughouttheday,butastheeveningneared,myconfusionwasreplacedbyanxiety.
AsIwalkedintothebathingchamber,IthoughtIreallyshould’vementionedthedinnertothePrincewhenhe’dbeenhere.Iturnedthewateroninthesink,dippedmyhead,andsplashedcoolwaterovermyface.
Grabbingatowel,IpattedmyfacedryasIliftedmychinandbegantoturn.Istopped,somethinginthemirrorsnaggingmyattention.MyhandloweredtotherimofthevanityasIleanedincloser.Myeyes…theydidn’tlookright.
Theyweremostlybrown.
“Whatthehell?”Ileanedinclosertothemirror.Theinnerpartclosesttothepupilwasa…shadeofpaleblue,andthatwasn’tnormalatall.
Slammingmyeyesshut,Ifeltmybreathingpickup.Ithadtobethelightinthebathingchamberor…mymindplayingtricksonme.Therewasnootherlogicalreasonformyeyestosuddenlychangecolor.Ihadtobeseeingthings.
Ijustneededtoopenthemtoprovethat.
Myheartflutteredlikeacagedbird.“Stopbeingridiculous,”Iscoldedmyself.“Youreyesdidn’tchangecolors.”
Aknockonthechamberdoorsstartledme.IthadtobeHymel,andknowinghim,hewouldbeimpatientasusual,butmyheartstillpounded.Forcingadeepbreathintomylungs,Iopenedmyeyesandleanedinclosetothemirror.
Myeyes…theywereindeedbrown.Justplainoldbrown.
Theknockcameagain,thistimelouder.Tossingthetowelintothebasin,Ihurriedtothechamberdoors.
“TheBaronHuntingtonhasrequestedyourpresence,”Hymelannounced.
MystomachtoppledsofastthatitwasawonderIdidn’tvomitalloverHymel’spolishedboots.
Iwasexpectingthis,andstill,anxietysurgedthroughmeasIjoinedHymelinthehall.
Hymellookedatmeaswewalked,hisstarechallenging.“Yougoingtotellmycousinaboutearlier?”
“Areyouworried?”Icountered,insteadofignoringhimasInormallywould.
Themanlaughed,butitsoundedforced.“No.”
Irolledmyeyes.
HymelwassilentuntilwenearedMaven’schambers.“Iwouldn’tsayanythingaboutitifIwereyou,”hesaid,staringstraightahead.“Youcausemeproblems—”
“You’llcausemeproblems?”Ifinishedforhim.Gods,Hymelwasawalkingcliché.
“No.”StoppingatMaven’sdoor,hefacedme.“I’llcauseyourbelovedGradytohaveverysignificantissues.”
Myheadwhippedtowardhimasmyheartlurched.
Hymelsmirked,pushingopentheroundedwoodendoor.“Don’ttaketoolong.”
AngerandfearcrashedtogetherasIforcedmyselftowalkawayfromHymel.Ienteredthedarkenedchamber,chestfillingwithsomuchhatredIwasbarelyawareofMavenusheringmetowardthetub.Ashergnarledfingersundidthebuttonsofmygown,Iwilledmyhearttocalm.Hymelhadsomelevelofauthorityinthemanor,buttherewasnowayClaudewouldallowHymeltobanishGradyfromthemanororsomethinglikethat.NotaslongasClaudewassatisfiedwithwhatIcoulddoforhim.
ThatwaswhatIremindedmyselfofasIbathedandthenwasdriedoff.Maven’shunchedformshuffledalongtherackofclothing,pullingfreeagownofdiaphanousblack.
AfterIdonnedapieceoffabricthatcouldbarelybeconsideredanundergarment,Mavendressedmeinthegauzymaterial.Aseriesofdelicatelacystrapscrisscrossedlooselyatmychest,andIwassuremybreastswouldmakeanimpromptuappearanceifIbentinthewrongdirection.Iglanceddownattheskirtofthegown.Therewereslitsonbothsides,allthewaytomyupperthigh.Thegowncouldbarelybecalledthat,butitlikelycostfartoomuchcoin.
Brushinhand,Mavenurgedmetositonthestool.Shebegantoworkthetanglesoutofmyhair,jerkingmyheadback.Onceshewassatisfiedwiththeresults,thepaintcamenext.Redforthelips.Darkkohlfortheeyes.Pinkrougeforthecheeks.Herhandssmelledofsoap,thekindusedtolaunderclothing.Shethenlimpedtowardthedeepshelvesliningthewall,retrievingaheadpiecefromachest.
Stringsofsmall,ovalrubiesnearlyaslongasmyhairhungfromacirclet.Thejewelsglimmeredintheflickeringcandlelight.Mavenplacedtheheadpieceuponthecrownofmyhead.Itwasfarlighterthanthediamondone.
Afterstraighteningthestringsofrubiesinmyhair,Mavensteppedaway,turningherback.Iknewwhatthatmeant.Shewasdone,andIwasdismissedtoreturntoHymel.
ButIwasslowtomoveasIstood,mygazeflickingfromthecurvedlineofMaven’sbacktothestandingmirror.Iwalkedtoit,halfafraidtogetcloserandtoseemyeyes,butIdid.
Theywerestillbrown.
WhatI’dseeninmybathingchamberhadjustbeenmyimagination.
Thatwasall.CHAPTER20
Inbetweenthenumerouslitcandelabra,plattersfullofroastedduckandplumpchickenbreastlinedthelongdiningtable,placedamongtheplatesofgrilledsalmonandbowlsofsteamingcarrotsandstewedpotatoes.Traysofdessertswerealreadyonthetable,tinysquarechocolatesandfruit-filledpastries.Therewereenoughbasketsofbreadtofeedanentirefamilyforamonth.
AslongasIlived,Iwouldnevergrowaccustomedtoseeingsomuchfoodononetable,inonehome.
Anditwasfartoomuch,butClaudewantedtoimpressthePrincewithafeast.Ididn’tevenwanttothinkabouthowmuchthiscostasImadeamentalnotetoletthecookknowtosendtheleftoverstothelocalPriory,whowouldknowwhichfamiliesweremostinneed.Atleastwhatwasleftuntouchedwouldn’tgotowaste.
“Whereinthefuckisthisprince?”
Acrossfromme,thered-hairedMollienearlydroppedabottleofchampagnebeforeplacingitonthetable.Hergazedartedfromminetothemanseatednexttomewhiletherestofthestaffwaitedalongthewallasiftheyweretryingtobecomeapartofit.
Slowly,IlookedatClaudeandtookadeepbreaththatdidverylittletocalmmytemper.
Hewassprawledinhisseat,onebootedfootrestingontheedgeofthetable,mereinchesfromhisplate.Adiamond-studdedchampagneflutedangledprecariouslyfromhisfingertips,glitteringinthecandlelight.Atanygivenmoment,thecontentsofhisglassortheentireflutewasgoingtoenduponthefloor.Orhislap.
IsqueezedmyhandstogetheruntilIcouldbarelyfeelmyfingers.Allmyothermany,manyconcernshadfallentothewaysidethemomentI’dseenClaude.
HehadnotmadewisechoicesduringhisafternoonspentwiththeBowerbrothers.
MyjawachedfromhowtightlyIwasclenchingit.Ididn’tevenwanttothinkofwhatwouldgothroughthePrince’smindifhewalkedinthedininghallandsawtheBaronseatedashewas.Atleasthewasn’tasbadashehadbeenthenightprior.Luckily,nostenchoftheMidnightOilclungtohiswhitedressshirtorfawnbreeches,buthecouldn’tbethatmanyglassesofchampagneawayfrombeingthreesheetstothewind.
“Theyshouldbeheremomentarily.”HymelclearedhisthroatfromwherehesatontheothersideoftheBaron.Hewaspalerthannormal,andIthoughtthatheactuallyappearedconcerned.“Atleastthat’swhatIwastoldbyoneoftheHyhbornthathadtraveledwithhim.”
Claudehuffed,liftingtheflutetohismouth.“Momentarily?”Hetookadrink.“Asifwehaveallthetimeintheworldtowaitforthem.”
Iwasn’tquitesurewhatClaudehadtodoafterthedinnerthatwassopressing.Well,otherthanjoiningthearistowhohadalreadybeguntogatherinthesolariumandGreatChamber.Buthecouldsurviveoneeveningbeinglatetofestivitiesornottakingpartinthem.
Reachingforthepitcherofwater,IpouredaglassandthenslidittowardtheBaron.“Perhapsyouwouldlikesomewater?”
Heloweredthefluteashegavemeawidesmilethatshowedwaytoomuchteeth.“Thankyou,darling.”
Ireturnedhissmile,prayingtothegodshewouldtakethehint.
Butofcoursehedidn’t.
“Youlooklovelythisevening,bytheway.”Hereachedover,tugginggentlyonastrandofrubies.Darklasheslowered.“AtleastIhavesomethinglovelytolookuponwhileIwait.”
IwidenedmyeyesasIreachedformyownglassofwater.MaybehewasclosertobeingcompletelyuselessthanIsuspected.Mygazefelltothefloor.Mygazefelltothegoldveiningofthemarbletile.Itwasthesameflooringthroughoutthediningandreceivinghall,aswellastheGreatChamber.IturnedtowhereGradystoodguardbetweenmarbleandgoldpillars.
“They’recoming,”Gradyannounced.
Mystomachdropped,andIwasn’tsureifitwaswhatI’dseeninthemirrorearlier,Claude’scurrentstate,orthefactthatitwashewhowascoming.
“Aboutdamntime,”Claudemuttered,thankfullydrawinghisfootoffthetable.Hesetthechampagneaside.
Thesoundofchairlegsscratchingacrossthestonesnappedmeintomotion.Irose,havingmomentarilyforgottenthatonewastostanduponthearrivalofaHyhborn.
MyskinpimpledwiththechargeofenergyenteringthedininghallasGradygaveacurtbow,thensteppedaside.Theairthickenedaroundus.
ThefirstHyhborntoenterwasonewithskinarichshadeofbrownanddarkhairshavedtoafadealongthesides,leavingtheshortdreadsalongthetopshapedintoamohawkofsorts.Hisbroad,stunningfeatureswerehighlightedbytheneatlytrimmedbeardframinghisjawandmouth.Flamesflickeredabovethecandlesbeforegoingcompletelystillashecrossedthespace.HiseyeswerelikePrinceThorne’s,theblueandgreenmorevibrant,though,ashisgazeswepttowherewestood,slippingpastmeandthendartingback.
Aslowhalfgrintuggedathisfullmouth.
BeforeIcouldevenconsiderthatsmile,anotherentered.Oneastallasthefirst,butnotasbroad.Thesharp,strikingfeatureswereacoolshadeoffawn,astartlingcontrastagainsttheonyx-huedhairthatfelloverhisforeheadandintowide-set,narroweyes—eyesthatweresuchapaleshadeofblueandgreen,theywerenearlyluminousinthecandlelight.TherewasnobrownthatIcouldseeinhisirises,nordidhehavethesamealmostfreneticauraofenergyastheonewhoenteredbeforehim,buttherewasanundeniablekeensenseofpowerashegaveusaonce-over.
Then…thentheairfeltasifitweresuckedoutofthehall.
PrinceThorneenteredastheflameswentwildabovethecandles,dancingrapidly.Likeacoward,Iavertedmygazetothetable.Ididn’tseehisexpression,butIknewtheverymomenthesawme.Tinyshiverseruptedovermyskin.Ifelthisstaredrillingintome,strainingmynervesuntilIwasasecondawayfrommakingsomesortofabsurdnoiselikeasqueak.Orascream.HeatcreptupmythroatasIstillfelthisstare.Goodgods,whyintheholyfireswasnoonespeaking?Andhowlongwerewesupposedto—
“Pleasebeseated,”PrinceThornefinallysaid,shatteringthesilencewithhisdeepvoice.
IallbutcollapsedintomychairasClaudesurprisinglytookasteadierseat.“Itisanhonortohaveyouatmytable,PrinceThorne,”hesaid,andIfeltalaughbubblingup.Honor?Hehadn’tsoundedhonoredmomentsago,butatleasthesoundedgenuine.“Though,Idohopetherewillbenoneedforthearmorbetweentheservingsofduckandfish.”
Armor?What?
“Onecanneverbetooprepared,”Thornereplied.
Ipeekedup,findingthethreeHyhbornseatedatthetableandthestaffinthemidstofplacingdiamond-encrustedplatesandglassesbeforethem.TheHyhbornwereindeedarmored,afacteasilymissedwithaquickglance.Thechestplateswerecoveredinblackleather,causingthearmortoblendintothesleevelessblacktunicsbeneath.Therewassomethingetchedintotheleather—aswordwithacrosshandleframedby…bywings—wingsoutlinedinthreadofgold.
“Iwasunawarethatwewouldhavecompany,”PrinceThornestated.
Mypulseskittered,andbeforeIcouldstopmyself,mygazeliftedtohim.Hewas,ofcourse,somehowseateddirectlyacrossfromme,andhe…
PrinceThornewasdevastatingintheglowofthecandles,hishairunboundandrestingsoftlyagainsthischeeks.Hedidn’tlookremotelymortalthen.Icouldn’tseemtogetmythroattoworkonaswallowasmyeyeslockedwithhis.Theswirlsofcolorsinhisiriseswerestill,buthisregardwasnolessintenseandpiercing.
“Ah,yes.Ifiguredsinceyoutwohavealreadymet,youwouldn’tmindherpresence,”Claudesaid,champagnefluteoncemoreinhand.“IhopeI’mnotfaultyinmyassumption?”
“No.”PrinceThornesmiled,hisstarenotleavingmeasherelaxedintohisseat.“Idonotmindherpresenceatall.”
Isankaboutaninchinmychair.
“Infact,”PrinceThornecontinued,“Iwelcomeit.”
MyheartgaveastrangelittleskipthatIwouldneedtosmackmyselfforlaterasClaudecockedhisheadtotheside.Thattersesilencefellagain.Afterasmalleternity,thePrince’sgazeshiftedaway,andIwasfinallyabletoswallowbeforeIchokedonmyownsaliva.
“Andwhomaythisbe?”PrinceThorneasked.
“MycousinHymel,”Claudeanswered,placinghisflutebyhisplate.Ihopedthatglassstayedthere.“AstheCaptainoftheGuard,heisanintegralpartofArchwoodManorandthecity.”
“YourGrace.”Hymelbowedhisheadrespectively.“Itisagreathonortohaveyouandyourmenatourtable.”
Ourtable?Ibarelycontainedmysnort.
PrinceThorneeyedhim,thecurveofhiswell-formedlipsnothinglikethesmilesI’dseenhimgive.Hissmilewascold.Dispassionate.Myskinprickled.
“Idon’tbelieveI’vebeenintroducedtothoseaccompanyingyou,”Claudestatedastheglassesofchampagnewerefilledbythestaffandplatesgenerouslyloadedwithahelpingofallthatwasonoffer.
“CommanderLordRhaziel.”PrinceThorneextendedahandtowardtheHyhbornwho’dbeenthesecondtoenterandthennoddedattheother.“AndLordBastian.”
Bas.
MygazeshottotheotherHyhbornlord,andIsuddenlyunderstoodhissmilewhenhehadspottedmeuponentering.Hehadbeeninthegardensthatnight,theonewhohadspokentoPrinceThornewhileIslippedinandoutofconsciousness.
LordBastiancaughtmystareandwinked.“Yourcityismostpeaceful,”hesaid,shiftinghisattentiontotheBaron.“Asareyourmanorgrounds.Very…lovelysceneryyouhave,especiallyinthegardens.”
Ohgods…
Woulditbeconsidereddramaticformetowishthatthefloorwouldopenupbeneathmychairandswallowmewhole?
“Thatismostkindofyou.ArchwoodisthejeweloftheMidlands.”Claudereachedforthatdamnglassofchampagne.“Please,enjoyourfood.Ithasallbeenpreparedinyourhonor.”
“Itismuchappreciated,”PrinceThorneacknowledged.
“ArchwoodismorethanjustthejeweloftheMidlands,”CommanderRhazielstatedasthePrincepickedupaknife,cuttingintothechicken.“It’savitaltradingport,situatedatacentralpointinthekingdom,andbyfarthemosteasilyaccessiblecityalongtheEasternCanal,”hesaid.ThatwastrueonlybecausetheremainingcitiesalongtheEasternCanalwereisolatedbytheWychwoods.“Archwoodisveryimportanttothe…kingdom.”
“ItisarelieftohearthatKingEurosrecognizestheimportanceofArchwoodinregardtotheintegrityofCaelum,”Hymelresponded,andthenlaunchedintoadeclarationofArchwood’ssuccessesintheorganizationoftheshipstransportinggoodsandthefunnelingofsuchthroughouttheotherfiveterritories.
Iwasbarelylisteningas,fromthecornerofmyeye,IsawClaudemotionforhisglasstoberefilled.Itensed,doubtingitwentunnoticedbyPrinceThorneortheothers.Claudepickedupabutteryroll,tearingitapartbeforeeatingitpiecebypieceasnicetiescontinuedtobeexchanged.Ihopedthebreadsoakedupsomeofthealcoholhewasconsuming.IglancedatthePrince—athishandsashecarvedintothechicken.
Therewasthisdistinctiveedgecreepingintohoweveryonespoke,anincreasingthinnesstothewordsoftheHyhbornastheBaroncontinuedtodrink.AndIwasfascinatedwithwatchingtheHyhborneat,whichIcouldadmitwasabitodd.Itwasjuststrangetoseethemeatwithsuchimpeccablemannerswhileintheirarmor,withthebriefglimpsesofsheatheddaggerseachtimetheymovedintheirchairs.Meanwhile,theBaroncontinuedtopickathisfoodlikeasmallchild.
“Wouldyoulikesomethingelse?”PrinceThorneasked.
Whentherewasnoanswer,IlookedupfromthePrince’shands,slowlyrealizinghewasspeakingtome.Mycheekswarmed.“Excuseme?”
Hegesturedatmyplatewiththisfork.“You’vebarelyeaten.”
Mynormallyrobustappetitehadbeenallbutvanquishedbymynervesandwhatwasgoingonaroundme.“Iateasmallmealnottoolongbeforedinner,”Itoldhim.
Onebrowrose,andhelookedatmeasifheknewIwaslying,whichIwas.
“Areyoutired?”ClaudeglancedatmyplatebeforelookingoveratthePrince.“Shehasbeenquitetiredoflate.”
Ibitdownonmylip.Thatwasextremelyunnecessaryofhimtoshare.
“Isthatso?”PrinceThorne’sfingerstappedidly.
“She’sbeenspendingalotoftimeoutside,”ClaudewentonasIinhaleddeeplythroughmynose.“Inthatgardenofhers.”
InterestsparkedinLordBastian’sfeatures.“Thegarden?”
“Notthegardenyou’relikelythinkingof,”Iquicklyexplained.“There’sjustasmallpatchoftheBaron’sgardensthatismine.”
“IfIcan’tfindherwithinthesemanorwalls,Ialwaysknowwheretofindher,”Claudesaidwithatouchoffondness.“Shehasquitethegreenthumb.”
FeelingPrinceThorne’sgazeonme,Ispearedasteamedcarrotwithmyfork.
“SoI’veheard,”PrinceThornemurmured.
“You’vetoldhimaboutyourgarden?”Claudeaskedwithadeepchuckle.“Didshespeaktoyouaboutthevariousbreedsofsedum?Stimulatingconversation,Iassureyou.”
“Differentspecies,”Imutteredundermybreath.
“Notasofyet.”PrinceThornetookabiteofhischicken.“Howmanydifferentspeciesofsedumarethere?”
Surely,hecouldn’tseriouslywanttoknow,butheplacedhisforkbesidehisplateandwaited.“Thereare…therearehundredsofdifferentspecies,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected.
Besidehim,CommanderRhazielturnedhisheadtohim,hisbrowslifting.
“Hundreds?”thePrincequestioned,eitherunawareoftheCommander’sstareorignoringhim.“Howcananyonebesureofthat?Iimaginetheyalllookthesame.”
“Theydon’tlookthesame,though.”Itippedforwardinmychair.“Somegrowtooverafootwhileothershugtheground.Theirstemscanberatherdelicateandeasilysnapped,buttheycanchokeouteventhemostpersistentofweeds—especiallyatypecalledDragon’sBlood,whichspreadsratherrapidly.They’reagenusofsucculentthat…”Itrailedoff,realizingthateveryone,includingthestaff,wasstaringatme.
LordBastianhadthatcuriouslittlesmileonhisface.
CommanderRhazielappearedasificepickswerebeingdrivenintohisears.
ButPrinceThorne…helookedengrossed.“Andwhat?”heinsisted.
Iclearedmythroat.“Andtheycomeinalmosteverycolor,butI…Iprefertheredandpinkkinds.Theyseemtobeeasiertocultivateandlastthelongest.”
PrinceThorneflexedthehandthattapped.“Whatisthemostcommonthen?”
AwareoftheotherHyhborn’sgazesbouncingbetweenthePrinceandme,Ifeltwarmthcreepintomycheeks.“LikelyatypeknownasAutumnJoy.Itremindsmeabitofcauliflowerinappearancethroughoutsummer,andthenbloomsabrightpinkstartinginSeptember.”
“IbelievewehavethemintheHighlands,”LordBastiansaid,drawinghisforkoverwhatwasleftoftheduckonhisplate.Hegrinnedatme.“IonlyknowthisbecauseItoothinktheyresemblecauliflower.”
Itentativelyreturnedhissmile.
“SpeakingoftheHighlands,”Claudechimedin,drinkingfromhisglass.“AllofyouhavetraveledfromVytrus?”
Nearlypositivethatthatwasthesecondtimehe’daskedthat,Iglancedathim.Wasthereaslightglazetohiseyes?Iswallowedasigh.
LordBastian’sforkstilled,hislazygrinfadingasMolliecametomysideofthetablewithafreshpitcherofwater.“Wehave.”
Ileanedtowardher,keepingmyvoicelowasIsaid,“Canyoumakesurethecookknowstonotletwhatfoodisleftgotowaste?”
UnderstandingwhatIrequested,Mollienodded,herbrowneyesbrieflymeetingmine.
“Thankyou,”Iwhispered,onceagainfacingforward.
PrinceThornewatched,theblueofhiseyesdarkening.Iwiggledalittleinmychair.
“Didyoutravelbyhorseorship?”Hymelasked,shatteringtheensuingsilence.
“Horse.”CommanderRhazielheldthestemofhisglass,butIhadn’tseenhimdrinkfromit.
IthoughtofwhatClaudehadsaidthatmorning.ThatthePrincewashardertogetthroughbuttheotherswouldn’tbe.Therewasachancehewassimplyspeakingnonsense,butIcouldfindoutnow,couldn’tI?Rhazielwasalord,butIthoughtaboutwhatIfeltwhenhefirstenteredthedininghall.Hedidn’tcarrywithhimthesame…auraofpower.
“Horse?”Claudelaughed,eyeswidening.“Thatmusthavebeenanincrediblylongtrip.Tobehonest,I’mnotsureIwould’vesurvivedsuchajourney,”heprattledon.“I’mfartooimpatient.Iwould’vetakenaship.”
“OnewouldbeunabletotakeashipfromtheHighlands,”theCommanderpointedoutasIworkedupthenervetotryreadinghim.
Overtherimofmyglass,Ifocusedonthedark-hairedHyhborn.Quietingmymind,Iopenedupmysenses.Icreatedthatstringinmymind,connectingus.Thatwhitewallbecamevisible.Theshield.Ipicturedmyhandstretchingout,brushingagainstit,andthenIpicturedmyfingersdiggingintothelight,scouringthewall.
Theshieldsplit,andatonceIheardwhattheCommanderthought.Howinthefivelandshasthismankeptthiscityafloat?
MyownshockpulledmefromtheCommander’smindbeforeIcouldsenseanymore.Claudehadbeenright.MygazedartedtotheBaron.
“Ofcourse.You’resurroundedbymountainsandtheWychwoods.”ChampagnedrippedasheflunghiswristtowardtheHyhborn,causingmetogivealittlejump.“Yet,theEasternCanalisaccessiblewithintheWychwoods,isitnot?”
Thenagain,perhapsIneedednointuitiontoknowwhattheseHyhbornthoughtoftheBaron.
IfocusedonLordBastianthistime,creatingthatstringandfindingthatwhitewall.Ittookseveralmoments,buthisshieldcrackedjustenoughformetohearExactlyhowmuchhashedrunkthisevening?
Severingtheconnection,Ishiftedwithunease.ClaudehadbeenrightaboutbeingabletoreadHyhborn,buthadhebeenintentionallycorrect?Becausethiswasn’tsomethinghewouldknowsimplybecausehewascaelestia.Hecouldknowonlyifhehadexperiencewithsomeonelikemeinthepast.
TheCommanderraisedabrow,appearingunawareofmyintrusion.“Itwouldbeseveraldays’ridetoreachtheEasternCanal.”
“Isit?Thenagain,geographywasnevermystrongsuit.”Claude’sglassmovedwildlyagain,andthistime,Icaughthissleevedarmbeforeheendedupdumpinghalfthechampagneintohisormylap.Heglancedoveratme,hissmileloose.“Apologies,mypet.IdogetabitanimatedwhenIspeak.Gotitfrommymother.”
“‘Pet’?”PrinceThornequeriedsoftly.
Thebackofmynecktingled,andithadnothingtodowithintuition.
“IsthereananimalinthehallthatI’munawareof?”thePrincecontinued.“Ahoundorevenacat?”
AsnortcamefromthegeneraldirectionofHymel,andIfoundmyselfsuddenlystaringatmyknife.Oh,howbadlyIwouldenjoystabbingHymelwithit.
“Goodnessno.”Claudelaughed,tippinghisheadback.“It’satermofendearmentforLis.”
“Isthatso?”murmuredPrinceThorne.“Whata…fittingendearment.”
MusclesalongmyspinetensedasmygazecollidedwiththePrince’s.Therewasnomistakingthederisioninhistone.Oneneededonlyaneartohearit.“Farmorefittingthanotherendearments,”Isaid.
Thecornersofhismouthtwitched.“Icanthinkofatleastonethatisbettersuited.”
“Youcan?”Claudeleanedforward,fartooeager.“Iamdyingtohearwhatyou’dthinkwouldbemorefittingafterspendingsuchashorttimewithher.”
PrinceThorneopenedhismouth.
“Howhaveyouallbeenenjoyingthelate-springMidlandsweather?”Ijumpedin,glancingamongtheHyhborn.“IheartheweatheroftheHighlandsisquitetemperamental.”
“Onecouldsaythat.”LordBastianleanedbackinhisseat,thatgrinofhishavingreturnedatsomepoint.“Itisfarcoolerthanhere.”HeglancedatPrinceThorne.“Whatothertermsofendearmentareyouthinkingof?”
Oh,mygods….
PrinceThorne’slipscurvedupinaslow,smokysmile.“Na’laa.”
TheCommandersoundedlikehechoked.
“Whatdoesthatmean?”Claudeasked.
“Ithasmanymeanings,”LordBastiananswered.“Iamcuriousastowhichismeantinthiscase.”
“HethinksI’mstubborn,”Isaid,meetingthePrince’sgaze.
“Well,”Claudedrawled.“ThatIcanagreewith.”
“Andungrateful,”IaddedbeforePrinceThornecould.
Claudefrowned.
“Iwasgoingtosaybrave,”PrinceThornesaidinstead.
MylipspursedasIfeltmycheeksheatagain.
PrinceThorne’sattentionwasfixedonme,handcurledlooselyaroundthestemofhisglasswhilehisotherfingerstappedonthesurfaceofthetable.Hehadn’teatenmuchbutappearedtobedoneeating.Tentatively,Iopenedmysensesandletthemstretchouttohim.Imetthewhitewallalmostinstantaneously.ThehandIpictureddidnothing.
“Thehumidityhereisquiteunbearable,”theCommanderaddedjustthen,almostreluctantly,asifhethoughtheneededtoaddsomethingtotheconversationthathadveeredsoofftrack.
“Yes,wedon’tescapethehumiditythatbleedsoutfromtheLowlands,”Claudewassayingashisglasswastoppedoffoncemore.“You’llberelievedtolearnthattheworstofthehumiditydoesn’tarriveuntiltheFeasts.Iimagineyouallwillbegonewellbeforethen.”
“ThatIcannotanswer,”PrinceThorneanswered.“Wewillbehereforsometime.”CHAPTER21
Istiffened,caughtbetweenawaveofdreadand…relief,andaboutadozenotheremotionsIcouldn’tevenbegintofigureout.
“Excuseme?”Claudechoked.
Turningtohim,Ipickeduptheglassofwaterhehadyettotouch.“Here.”
“Thankyou,pet.”HissmilewasbrittleasherefocusedontheHyhborn.“Whenwillyoubegone?”
“Thatishardtoanswer,”PrinceThornestatedcoolly,andIwould’veswornthetemperatureofthehalldroppedbyseveraldegrees.
“Ibelievetherearemattersbestdiscussedinprivate,”LordBastianadvised.
Claudejerkedhisheadatthestaff.Theypeeledawayfromtheshadowedwalls,quietlikespirits.Hymelremainedseated,butIstood,readytorunfromtheroomdespitewantingtohearthesemattersmyself,whichIfiguredhadtodowiththeIronKnights.
“Yourpetcanstay,”PrinceThornesaid.
Ifrozeforhalfaheartbeat.Handscurlingintofistsatmysides,IslowlyturnedtothePrince.Oureyeslockedoncemore.
Hewinked.
Mynostrilsflaredasarushofirritationswampedme.
ThePrince’ssmilewarmed.
“Good,”Claudesaid,andbeforeIcouldtakeaseatinmyownchair,hetuggedmedown,intohislap.“IhaveastrongsuspicionthatIwillbeinneedofhercomfortduringthisconversation.”
PrinceThorne’sfingersstoppedtapping.Afineshiverbrokeoutovermyskinasthecandleflamesrippledasifawindhadwhippedintothehall,buttherehadbeennosuchthing.
Assoonasthestaffhadexitedandthedoorclosed,PrinceThornespoke.“Youappear…unnervedbytheprospectofhostingus.”
“Justsurprised.Thatisall.”Claudeclearedhisthroat,tensingabit.“I’mnotatalldispleasedbythenews.”
IglancedbetweentheHyhborn.Ididn’tthinkanyoneintheroombelievedthat.
“I’mrelievedtohearthat,”PrinceThornesaid.“I’msureyou’reawareofwhatishappeningalongtheborderwiththeWestlands.We’vecometodeterminewhatcourseofactionneedstobetaken.”
“Wehaveheardsomenewsregardingthis.”Claudekeptanarmaroundmywaistashereachedaround,pickinguphisgodsforsakenchampagne.
PrinceThorne’sunflinchinggazemadeithardtositstill.“TheWestlandshaveamassedquitethearmyanditisbelievedthattheywillsoonbemarchingacrosstheMidlands.WesuspectthatthePrincessofVisaliahashersightsturnedtoArchwoodandtheCourtofPrimvera.”
Mybreathstalledinmylungs.AsiegeofArchwood?ThatwaswhatRamseyEllishadfeared,buttohearthePrincesayitwassomethingentirelydifferent.Mymouthdried,andIsuddenlywishedIcouldreachmychampagne.
“Butthatisn’ttheonlydevelopment,”LordBastianstated.“ThereistheIronKnights.”
“Yes,we’veheardthattheyhavepossiblyjoinedforceswiththeWestlands,”Claudesaid.“However,I’vefoundthatnewstobemostconfounding.VayneBeylen,whowantstoseealowbornonthethrone,joiningforceswiththeWestlandsHyhbornarmy?Itmakeslittlesense.”
“Fromwhatwe’velearned,BeylenhasdecidedthathisrevoltismorelikelytobeaccomplishedthroughaidingtheWestlands,”CommanderRhazielshared.
Claudeletoutastrangledsortoflaugh.“IunderstandtheCourtpoliticsareusuallynoneofourbusiness,”hebegan.
“Theyarenot,”PrinceThorneagreed.
“ButwhateverstrifethereisbetweentheHyhbornisinvolvingus.”Claudedownedtherestofhischampagne.“WhatistheissuewiththePrincessofVisalia?Whatisthecauseofthis?I’msureit’scomplicated,butIshouldknowwhatisdrivingtheWestlandstojeopardizethesafetyofmyhome.”
“It’sactuallynotcomplicated,”PrinceThornereplied.“ThePrincessbelievesthatitistimeforaqueeninsteadofakingtorule.”
Mybrowsshotupasmylipsparted.Aqueeninsteadofaking?Therehadneverbeenone,notsincetimehadstartedtoberecorded—notsincetheGreatWar.Couldtherehavebeenqueensbeforethen?Possibly?
“IthinkthelovelyLismaynotbeagainstsuchanidea,”LordBastianpointedout.
PrinceThorneinclinedhishead.“Doyouthinkaqueenwouldrulebettersimplybecauseofthegender?”
“No,”Isaidwithouthesitation.“Idon’tthinkitmakesadifference.”
“Andhowwouldyoufeelifitwerealowbornwhoruled?”CommanderRhazielasked.
Hisquestioncaughtmeoffguard,andIswallowed.
“Youranswerwillgonofurtherthanthisroomandwillbeheardwithoutjudgment,”PrinceThorneadvised.“Please.Sharewhatyouthink.”
“I…”Iclearedmythroat,wonderingexactlyhowIendedupbeingtheoneaskedthisquestion.Oh,yeah,myfacialexpressions,whichlikelyhadbetrayedmythoughts.“Thingscouldpossiblybedifferentifalowbornruled.TherearemoreofusthanHyhborn,andlogically,alowbornwouldbebetteratunderstandingtheneedsoftheirown,but…”
“But?”CommanderRhazielpressed,hisstarejustashard.
“Butitprobablywouldn’tbebetterorworse,”Isaid.“Yougainthatkindofauthorityandwealth?Younolongerrepresentthepeople,lowbornorHyhborn,kingorqueen.”
“Interestingpoint,”LordBastiansaid,dragginghisfingersalonghismouth
“Butit’sanirrelevantpoint,”Iadded.“IftheIronKnightsarenowbackingtheWestlands,thenthatmeanstheyarebackingyetanotherHyhborn.”
“Indeed,”PrinceThornemurmured.“ItseemsBeylenbelievesthatthePrincesswillruledifferently.”
Ialmostlaughed,butIthoughtofGrady—thoughtofallthelowbornwho’djoinedorsupportedBeylen’scause.DidtheyknowthatBeylenwasnowsupportinganotherHyhborn?ThosewhoriskedtheirlivesanddiedforBeylen’scause?Idoubtedtheywouldbehappytohearthis.
“So,you’vecometotellmethatwarisnotonlybrewing?”Claudeloweredhisglasstorestonmyleg.Hisgripwastight,knuckleswhite.“Buthasalsocometomydoorstep?”
“Ihave,”PrinceThorneconfirmed,andmychestwentcold.“ButalsotoinformyouthatArchwoodwillbedefended.”
Reliefpouredthroughme,pushingoutaroughexhale,becausetherewasamomentsomethingIdidn’tevenwanttoacknowledgehadbeguntocreepintomythoughts.ButtheHyhbornweregoingto—
“Defended?Withjustthethreeofyou?”Claudesputtered.
Whatevershort-livedreliefI’dfelthadalreadyvanished,anditnowfeltlikeithadneverexisted.“TheBaronmeansnooffense,”Iquicklysaid,forcingaweaksmile.“Right?”
“Ofcourse,”Claudedrawled.
“WeknowtheHyhbornarequitepowerful.”Hymelspokeup,andIhadneverthoughtI’dthinkthisbefore,butthankthegodshe’dsaidsomething.Hell,Iwould’vebeenhappyifitwereonlytoinsultme.“Butthreeofyoutoholdbackanarmy?”
“You’dbeshockedbywhatthethreeofuscando,”PrinceThorneremarked.“However,Ibelieveyouwouldpreferthatyourcityremainsstanding?”
Mynextbreathwentnowhere.Immediately,IthoughtofAstoriaand…IlookedatthePrince.Sawhissmile.Itwaspureice.MaybeIhadbeenwrongabouthimbeingcompassionate.IfitwashewhohaddestroyedAstoria,innocentshadtohavelosttheirlivesintheprocess.Attheveryleast,thousandshadbeendisplaced,turnedintorefugeesovertheactsofafew.
Somethingaboutthatdidn’tsitright,though.Hewasmy—Godsdamnit,ifsmackingmyselfwouldn’thavedrawnattention,Iwould’vedoneit.Hewasnotmyanything.
“Sinceit’sbeendecided,wewillhaveanarmyourselves,”CommanderRhazielsaid,andIfocusedononeword.Decided.
Asiftherehadbeenanotheroption.
“UnlessinvisibilityisatalentofaHyhbornarmy…”Claudemadeashowoflookingaroundthehall.“…I’massumingthisarmyhasyettoarrive?”
Ohmygods….
Silencefellinthedininghall.ItwassoquietIwassureIcouldhearaflycough.
“Thearmyiswaitingonmyorders.”PrinceThorne’stonewasfrigid.“WehaveseveralhundredHyhbornwarriors,inadditiontofivehundredoftheCrown’sRegiment”—thelowbornandcaelestiaswhoservedasknights.“TherearealsoPrimvera’sforces.”HeglancedattheCommander.
“IbelievetheyhaveroughlythreehundredHyhbornwarriors,”theCommanderanswered.
“So,that’swhat?”Claude’schestpressedagainstmybackasheleanedforward.“AlittleoverathousandwhowilldefendArchwoodagainstseveralthousandoftheIronKnightsandthearmiesoftheWestlands?Andfivehundredofthemarelowbornandcaelestia?”
“Fivehundredtrainedbyus,”theCommandercountered,hislipsthinning.
“SeveralhundredHyhbornhastoequatetoseveralthousandlowborn,”IassuredClaude,gentlysqueezinghisforearm.“Thatisenough.”
Hisstaremetmine,andthenherelaxedintohischair,likelythinkingthatitwasmyintuitionspeaking,butitwasn’t.Myintuitionwassilent.Iwasjusttryingtokeephimfromsayingonemoreidioticthingandgettinghimselfkilled.
“Yourpetiscorrect,”PrinceThornestated.
Myheadswunginhisdirection,andIalsohadtoremindmyselftonotsaysomethingidioticasthatirritationsparkeddeepwithinmeoncemore.Claude’stermofendearmentwasoftenannoying,butheneversaiditthemockingwayPrinceThornedid.
Foronce,Thornewaslookingpastmyshoulder,toClaude.“Anyofagewhowishtodefendtheircity,orcan,shouldbepreparingforsuchanevent.”
“Wehaveguards,”Claudemurmuredabsently.“Trainedmen.”
Mychesttightenedasmygazeshottothecloseddoors,towardwhereGradywaitedinthehalls.
“Anyofagewhoareablecanbegivenbasictraining,”PrinceThornerestated.“Thatwouldincludeyou,BaronHuntington.”
Claudewentstillbehindme;thenthelaughthatwascrawlingupmythroatspilledoutofhislips.“Ihaven’tpickedupaswordsinceIcameintomytitle.”
NothingabouttheHyhborn’sexpressionssaidthatsurprisedthem.
“ThenIwouldsuggestyoudothatassoonaspossible,”PrinceThorneadvised.“Afterall,onecannotaskotherstofightfortheirhomesandlivesifoneisnotwillingtofightoneself.”
PrinceThornespokethetruth,butwhatgoodwasasoldierwhowasmorelikelytostabthemselvesthantheenemy?
“AsCommanderRhazielstatedbefore,Archwoodisavitalport,”PrinceThornecontinuedafteramoment.“SeizingArchwoodandthenPrimverawouldcauseacatastrophicrippleeffectthroughouttheentirekingdom.ItwouldgivetheWestlandsanadvantageintheformofleverage,andtheKingwillnottoleratethat.Archwoodwouldthenbeconsideredaloss.”
Thedininghallfellsilent.AllIcouldhearforseveralmomentswasthepoundingofmyheart.
ItwasHymelwhobrokethesilence.“Youmean,ArchwoodwouldfallintothehandsoftheWestlands,thereforebecomingapartofthisopenrebellionoflowbornandHyhborn?”
Myintuitiontoldmeno,thatwasn’tthecase,andthenitwentsilentonme,andIknewwhatthatmeant.ThattheanswerlaywiththeHyhborn,whichIcouldnotsee,butcouldguess.
Theicyfingerofuneasepressedagainstthenapeofmyneck.
“Youwishtospeak.”ThePrince’sattentionwasfixedonme.“Pleasedoso.”
Istiffened,knowingitwasn’tmyplacetoaskquestions,atleastnotinsuchapublicsetting,andIwasalreadypushingitwithmythoughtsonthewholekingandqueenbusiness.ItwastheBaron’splace,orattheverymost,Hymel’s.Butneitherdid.Noonedid.
ThePrincewaited.
Iclearedmythroat.“IftheWestlandsoreventheIronKnightsalonesucceededinseizingArchwood,whatwouldhappen?”
“Theportsandtradingpostswouldallbedestroyed.”PrinceThorne’seyesmetmine,thecolorsfrighteninglycalm.“Aswouldbetheentirecity.”CHAPTER22
Thediamond-crustedplatesandtheplattersofuneatenfoodhadlongsincebeenremovedfromthetable,andonlyafewtraysofdessertsremained.HymelhadleftwithCommanderRhazielandLordBastiantodiscusspreparationsforthearrivingregiment—somethingthattheBaronshouldbetakingpartin.However,abottleofbrandyhadreplacedthechampagneandonlythethreeofuswerenowinthedininghall.
Bythistimeoftheevening,theBaronwouldalreadybeineitherthesolariumortheGreatChamber,surroundedbyhisparamoursandcronies,butthePrincehadshownnoindicationofpreparingtoleavethehall.Therefore,theBaronremained.
AndsodidI.
“Tellmesomething,YourGrace,”Claudebegan,andIbrieflyclosedmyeyes,havingnoideawhatlevelofabsurditywasgoingtocomeoutofhismouth.
Andtherehadbeenalotofridiculousnessalready,everythingfromClaudeaskingwhetherornotPrinceThornebelievedthecoldgraincerealofteneatenuponwakingcouldbeconsideredasoup,whichthePrincehadansweredonlywithastarethatwaspartconfusion,partdisbelief,tohimregalingthePrincewithtalesofhistimespentattheUniversityofUrbane,justoutsideofAugustine.
Orattemptingto.
PrinceThornedidn’tappearregaledbyanyofwhattheBaronwassaying.
However,hedidappeartobequiteinterestedinwhereClaude’sfreehandwas.He’dtrackedhowtheBaron’sfingershadfirsttoyedwiththestringlacingbetweenmybreasts,andhisstarehadfollowedClaude’seventualpathdownmystomach,tomyhip.HewasawareoftheexactmomentClaude’swanderingpalmmadeittomythigh,exposedbythehighcutoftheskirt.TinyburstsofwhitehadappearedinthePrince’seyes.
ClaudeseemednottorealizewhatthePrincewassoattentiveto,butIwasaware—tooaware.TheBaron’stouchwascool,buttheburnofthePrince’sperusalscaldedmyflesh,creatingwarringsensationsthatmadeitimpossibletoignore.
Honestly,Icould’veleftatanypoint.Iwasn’teventryingtoreadPrinceThorne.Claudemighthavebeendisappointed,buthewouldn’thavetriedtostopme.IfearedthatifIleftClaudealonewiththePrince,hewouldgethimselfintroubleorworse.
Killed.
Butwasthattheonlyreason?
MygazebrieflymetthePrince’s,andmybreathsnagged.
“I’veheardsomethingutterlyfascinatingaboutHyhbornthatI’vealwaysbeencuriousaboutbutnevergotthechancetoask,”Claudewenton,hisfingerssweepingbackandforthalongthecurveofmyupperthigh.“IonceheardthataHyhborncould…regenerateseveredlimbs.”
InearlychokedonthechampagneI’dbeennursing.
“Isthattrue?”Claudeasked.
Acrossfromus,theHyhbornprincesatashehadinmybed-chamberearlier.Ashortglassofwhiskeyinhand,hisposturealmostrelaxed,almostlazy;butthecoiledtension,thebarelyrestrainedpower,wasthere.
“Depends,”PrinceThorneanswered,tracingtherimofhisglass,theamber-huedliquornearlythesamecolorasthehairrestingagainsthisjaw.
“On?”theBaronprodded.
PrinceThorne’sjawtightened.“Onexactlyhow…strongonemaybe.Healingsuchaninjurywouldtakeanextraordinaryamountofenergy,evenforaDeminyen.”HisgazetrackedClaude’sfingersastheyslidbeneaththepanelofmygown,andIbitdownontheinsideofmylip.“Energyisnotinfinite,nomatterthebeing.”
“Interesting.”Claudeswallowedanothermouthful.
“Isit?”PrinceThorneinquired.“ShouldIbeconcernedaboutsuchinterest?”
Ipressedthesideofthefluteagainstmychest,skinpricklingathowdeceptivelysofthistonewas.
“Well,I’mhalftemptedtochopoffanarmjusttowatchitgrowback,”Claudesaidwithaloudlaugh.“Mustbeabizarrethingtowitness.”
Myeyeswentwide.Itoldmyselfhedidn’tjustsaythattoaHyhborn—tothePrinceofVytrus.
ThePrince’sfingerstilledontherimofhisglass.Flamesrippledsuddenlyabovethecandle.
“He’sonlyjoking,YourGrace.”Ismiled,stomachtwisting.“Thereisnoneedforworry.Hejusthasquitetheuniquesenseofhumor.”
“I’mnotworried,”PrinceThornereplied,returningtotracingtherimofhisglass.“Afterall,hehasn’tpickedupaswordsincewhen?Hecameintohistitle?”
IdoubtedClaudehadhandledaswordbeforethen.
“Andonewouldhavetowieldaswordmadeofluneaiftheythoughttopiercetheskinandbone.”Hepaused,takingasmalldrinkofhiswhiskey.“Theyarequite…heavy.”
Itookaratherlargegulpofmychampagnethen,knowingdamnwellClaudecouldn’tliftaluneasword.PrinceThorneknewthat.
SodidClaude.“Touché.”Helaughed,reachingforthebottleofbrandy.Hispourwassurprisinglysteady.“Though,thereareluneadaggersthatIimaginearelessunwieldy.”
Deargods….
“Iwouldliketoknowsomething,”PrinceThornestated.“WhatwillyoudoiftheIronKnightsbreachArchwood?”
“Thatshouldn’thappenwithyouandyourregimentguardingthecity.”Claude’sfingersslidunderthepanelofmygownoncemore.“Butifthereweretobea…”Claudedrank,andItensed.“Ifthereweretobeafailure?Ihavemyguards.”
PrinceThornesmiledfaintly.“Andifyourguardsarekilled?”
Mystomachknotted,gazeshootingtothedoor.Ididn’tevenwanttothinkaboutthat.
“ThenIsupposeIwouldbeuptheriverwithoutapaddle,astheysay,”hesaid,slidinghishandovermythigh.Hispalmgrazedmystomach.
PrinceThornesmirked.“Well,letushopeitdoesn’tcometothat.”
“Let’s.”Claude’sfingersreturnedtothelacing,asdidthePrince’sregard.“Butinallseriousness?Ifthatweretohappen?IwoulddefendwhatismineinanywayIpossiblycould.EvenifIhaven’tpickedupaswordinmanyyears.”
Haltingwithhiswhiskeyhalfwaytohismouth,PrinceThornetiltedhishead.“Andwhatdoyouconsideryours?”
Claude’sfingersbrushedovertheswellofmybreast.“Everythingthatyousee.”
“Everything?”PrinceThornepressed.
“Thecity,fromtheEasternCanaltotheWychwoods,andherpeople.Theirhomesandlivelihoods,”Claudesaid,anditwasthefirsttimeI’dheardhimsound,well,likeabaronshould.Whichwasastarkcontrasttohisfingersdraggingoverthetipofmybreast.Ijerked,asmallbreathescapingme.Thethinmaterialwasnorealbarrieragainstthecoolnessofhistouch.“Thegroundsandgardens,thisveryhomeandeveryoneinsideit.”
“Yourstaff?”ThePrince’sgazewaslatchedontotheBaron’shand.“Yourparamours?”Takingadrink,hedidn’tblink.“Yourpet?”
Ijoltedagain,andthistimeithadnothingtodowithClaude’stouch.MyeyesnarrowedontheHyhbornprince,buthedidn’tsee.HowcouldhewhenhisattentionwasfixedtotheBaron’shandandmybreast?
“Especiallyher.”Claude’scool,damplipspressedagainstthesideofmyneck.“Sheisthemostvaluableofall.”
Mybrowsshotup.
PrinceThorneloweredhiswhiskeyashisgazeliftedtoClaude’s.“Idobelievethatissomethingwecanagreeon.”
Istiffened.“Iamsitting—”MybreathcaughtasClauderolledthesensitivepeakofmybreastwithhisfingers.Mygriptightenedontheflutestemastheflamesabovethecandlesflickeredoncemore.
“Youweresaying?”PrinceThornequestioned,onesideofhislipscurvingup
“Iwassaying,I’msittingrighthere.”IignoredClaude’shandasittrailedbackdownmystomach—ignoredthePrince’sheatedgazethatfollowed,andthatheightened,dualsensationofhotandcold.“Incaseyoutwohaveforgotten.”
“Trustme,”PrinceThornedrawled,leaningback.Thestarswereevenbrighterinhiseyes.“Neitherofushasforgotten.”
“Thatisthesecondthingwecanbothagreeon.”Claudedrewhisfingersdown,pastmynavelandbetweenmythighs,hishandfurtherwideningthegapinthepanels.
“I’mgladtohearthatyoutwohavediscoveredsomethingtobondover,”Isaid,liftingmychin.“IhopeIcanprovideathirdthing.”
“Andwhatisthat?”Claudeasked,retrievinghisglass.
“Iamnotapossession.”IwaitedtillthePrince’sgazereturnedtomine.“Iamownedbynoone.”
“Agreed,”Claudemurmured,hisfingerspressingintotheskinofmyinnerthigh,drawingmylegafewinchestothesideuntiltherewasnodoubtthatthePrincecouldseethescantblacklacebetweenmythighs.
PrinceThorne’sgazehadn’tmissedasecond,andIthoughtthat…thathislipshadpartedjusttheslightestasheseemedtosoakinwhattheBaronhadrevealedtohim—purposelyrevealed.Myskinflushedhotbeneathhisstare,butnotwithshame.ApartofmethoughtthatmaybeIshouldbeembarrassed.ThatifIwasgood,IshouldputastoptowhateveritwasthatClaudewascurrentlyupto,becauseIwasreallybeginningtowonderexactlyhowdrunkClaudetrulywas.
HewaseitherfarmoreintoxicatedthanIsuspected,orhewashandlinghisdrinkbetterthanIbelieved,becausehisactionsandwordshadbecomeentirelypreciseandclear.
TheBaronwasoftenplayful,especiallywhenhedrank,evenwithmewhenitlednowhere,butIwasbeginningtothinkI’dbeenwrongaboutClaudebeingunawareofwhatthePrincewaspayingsuchcloseattentionto.TherewasatauntingedgetoClaude’sactionsnow.Asifitwasnothisowndesirethatdrovehim,butwhathesawinthePrince’sstare.
ButImadenomovetostopClaude.Icouldn’t…orIdidn’twanttoasthePrincewatched,asheatinmyskinfloodedmyveins.AndmaybeIhaddrunkmorechampagnethanIhadthought,becauseIwassuddenlyemboldened.
“Howaboutyou,YourGrace?”Ichallenged.“Doyouagree?”
Thedancingflamescastinterestingshadowsacrosshisfeatures.“Iwould,exceptthatwouldbealie.”
“How—”AnunsteadyrushofairleftmeasClaude’shandfoldedoverme.Asharptwistofpleasurefollowed.“Howso?”
“NooneintheKingdomofCaelumistrulyfree.”HewatchedasClaude’shandmoved.“AllareownedbytheKing.”
Claudechuckled.“Hehasapointthere,pet.”
ThePrincedid,butIsaidnothing.Mypulsewasthundering.Ifeltalittledazedandmaybeabitcrazed.Iwasn’tsurehowwe’dgonefromtalkofanimpendingsiegetothis.Ididn’tthinkitwasevenpossibletofigureout.
“Ihaveanotherquestionforyou,”PrinceThornesaid.“WhenyouwereattheUniversityinUrbane,didyouspendanytimeattheRoyalCourt?”
“Idid.”
“Andwhatdidyouthinkofit?”
“Itwasan…experience,”Claudesaid.“PartlyasIexpected.”
“Partly?”
IwascurioustoheartheBaronelaborate.Ihadn’tknownhe’dbeenattheKing’sCourt.OnlythecaelestiasandafewaristoenteredtheHyhbornCourts—well,themandthosetheHyhborncollected.ButIwasfindingitdifficulttolisten.IwasnowwatchingthePrinceasavidlyashewatchedtheBaron’shand.Hisfingerstracedtherimofhisglassinnearlyperfectsynchronywiththeonesbetweenmythighs,anditwasfar,fartooeasytoimagineitwashisfingersIfelt.
MyhipstwistedrestlesslyasIfocusedonthePrince’sfingers,mybreathingquickening.CouldtheBaronfeeltherushofdampheatthroughthesilkyundergarment?Didhebelieveitwasmybodyrespondingtohistouches,or…?IshiftedintheBaron’slap,chestrisingsharplyashepressedintothelacyundergarment,butI…Ididn’tfeelhimbeneathme.
TheBaronknew.
Claudewasrubbingmelikehesoughttodrawforthananswerfromacrystalball.Notthemostarousingtechnique,norwhatIknewhewascapableof.Hewas.
Hewasputtingonashow.
“It’sasopulentandbeautifulasIbelievedittobe,”Claudeansweredafteramoment.“ButIdidn’texpectittobeso…”
“So?”
Ibitdownonmylipatthesoundofhisvoice,attheoneword.Itwashedovermyskinlikeheatedsilk,andmytoescurledintheirslippers.
“Cruel,”Claudesaid.
Andthatonewordcooledsomeoftheheatinmyblood.
“Ihaveaquestionforyou,YourGrace.”
ThePrinceinclinedhischin.
“Areyouascruelastherumorsclaimyouare?”heasked,causingmyhearttoturnoverheavily.
PrinceThornedidn’tanswerforseveraltoo-longmoments,onlywatchingasClaude’sfingerscontinuedtomove.“Onlywhennecessary.”
Claudeseemedtounderstandwhateverthatmeant.“Wouldyoulikesomethingotherthanwhiskeytodrink?Youhaven’ttouchedwhatyouhaveinsometime.”
“It’snotwhatI’mthirstyfor.”
“Isupposenot.”Claudehadgonequiet,andthatflippingmotionrepeated.“Pet?”hesaidagainstmyflushedtemple,histhumbsweepingoverthethrobbingjunctureofnerves.“Whydon’tyougotothePrince.”
MygazecollidedwiththePrince’s.Theairstilledinmylungsasmybodylockedup,butmyhearthammered.
“Hedoeslooklonely,”Claudewhispered.“Doeshenot?”
PrinceThornedidn’tlooklonely.
Hisentirebodyappearedtaut,featuressharperintheviolentlydancingflames.Helooked…
PrinceThornelookedhungry.
“Go,”urgedClaude,slippinghisarmfrommywaistandhishandfrombetweenmylegs.
IhesitateddespitethestunningpulseofdesirethatechoedinresponsetotheBaron’s…what?Order?Permission?Ididn’tknowwhichitwas.IknewClaudelikedtobewatchedandlikedtowatch,butthiswasaprince.Notoneofhisparamoursandanotheraristo.
ButIslippedfromhislapandstood,placingmyglassonthetable.PrinceThornesaidnothing,buthetrackedmeasIwalkedonlegsthatfeltweakerthantheyshould.Ilookedatthedoor,knowingIcouldleave.Claudewouldn’tstopme.Ididn’tthinkPrinceThornewould.Icouldeasilywalkoutandputastoptowhatevermadnessthiswasbeginningtofeellike.
Ididn’t.
Ifthiswereanyoneelse,Iwould’ve,butitwashim.
IwenttothePrince’sside,heartpoundingandhandstingling.Helookedupatme,stillsilent,andsuddenlyIthoughtthatitmighthavebeenagoodideatoleave.Clearly,ifthePrincewantedcompany,hewould’vesaidso.Adifferentkindofburnhitmyskin.Istartedtotakeastepback—
PrinceThorneextendedhisarmasheleanedback.Ifroze.
Swirlingeyesmetmine.“Sit.”
FeelingasifIcouldn’tbreathedeeplyenough,Islippedbetweenhimandthetable.ThatwasasfarasImadeit.Hisarmcamearoundmyhipsandhetuggedmedownintohislap.
Ifelthimimmediately.
Hewasthickandhardagainstmybottom.Mygasplikelyechoedthroughthetoo-silenthall.Acrossfromme,Claudesmiled.
PrinceThorne’schestwasflushagainstmyback.Onehandjustbelowmychest,fingerssplayedacrossmyribs,hewassittingstraighterthantheBaronhadbeenashisfingerslefttheglassofwhiskey.“WhatdoyouthinkofthePrincessofVisalia’sintentionstorebel?”heaskedofClaude.
“I’mnotsureIknowenoughaboutherintentionstohaveanopinion.”TheBaronliftedhisglass.
“Youknowshewantstorule,”PrinceThornesaidasIwatchedthathandslipacrossthesmoothsurfaceofthewood,myheartstillpounding.“Isthatenough?”
“Isuppose,butifwhatdrivesherissimplyadesiretooverthrowKingEuros?”Claudesnorted,takingadrink.“ThenIdon’tholdherintentionsinveryhighesteem.”
ThePrince’shandleftthetableandwenttomythigh.Igavealittlejumpashiswarmskincameincontactwithmine.Hedidn’tstopthere.Therewasnoteasingor…ortaunting.Hishandslidunderthegownandbetweenmylegs,fingersdelvingbeneaththescrapoflaceandagainstthedampfleshthere.Mybodyreacted,backarchingandhipsliftingtohistouch.Hischestvibratedagainstmyback,thelowrumblescorchingmyskin.Ididn’tknowwhatcausedthatsound—ifitwasmyreactionorhistotheslickness.
“ThehungerforpowerseemstobesomethingthatplaguesbothlowbornandHyhbornequally,”Claudewassaying.“Youcan’treallyfaultonefordoingwhathasbecomesecondnature.”
“Isupposenot,”PrinceThornesaid,slippingonefingerthroughthethrobbingdampness,andtheninsideme.MyhipsrolledasIgrippedthearmofthechair.Thesoundhemadethenwasunmistakable.Alowchuckle.“Canyou,pet?It’sonlynatureforanyspeciestoassertdominance,”headdedashisfingerplungeddeep.
Myheadsnappedtowardhis.Ourmouthswereinchesapart.“Donotcallmethat.”
Theblueofhiseyesracedacrosstheothercolors.“WhatamIsupposedtocallyou?”
“Notthat—”Igaspedashisfingerhooked,findinga…aspot.
Hisgazeroamedovermyface,seemingtocatchtheheighteningincolor.“Whatdoyousaythen?Canyoublameanotherforattemptingtodominatewhattheywant?”
“I…”Ihadafeelinghewasn’tjustspeakingoftheleaderoftheIronKnights,butIcouldn’tbesure,becausehetouchedthatspotagain.Ariotofsensationsarcedthroughme.Ileanedintohim.“I…Isupposeitdepends.”
“On?”
“Onwhatoneisattemptingtodominate,”Isaid,lookingaway.“Andwhytheywantit.”
Claudewasnowwhowatched,but…butIrealizedthathowPrinceThornesat,mylapandhishandwereshieldedbythetable.
UnliketheBaron,hedidn’twantanotherwatchingthatclosely,whichwassurprising.Iwould’vethought…
MythoughtsscatteredasthePrince’sthumbjoinedin.Itrembledasallthoseacutecurlingmotionsrapidlybuilt.ThePrince’sbody—hishandandhisfingerswarmed,heatedagainstmeandinsideme.Ohgods,I’dneverfeltanythinglikethat.Theedgeofthewooddugintomypalm.
“ButIdoubtsimplyahungerformorepowercoulddriveone,evenaprincess,tobesoboldandrecklessastoattempttoseizeacitythatwoulddrawtheireandthemightoftheKing,”Claudecontinued.“Surely,theremustbemorethanaportthatshefindsvaluableenoughtoriskbeingdestroyedfor.”
Something…somethingabouthowClaudespokecausedmyskintopricklewithawareness.Breathingtoofast,Itriedtofocus.
“Idobelievethatisthethirdthing…”PrinceThorne’sfingerthrust,histhumbswirled,anditwas…itwastoomuch.Thepleasurebuildingborderedonpain.Istartedtopushaway.Thearmaroundmywaistpreventedthat.“Thatweagreeon.”
Thetensioneruptedwithoutwarning.Icame,cryingout—
PrinceThorne’shandcoveredmymouth,mufflingthemoanofrelease.“Nothere,”hewhisperedinmyear.“Notforanyoneelse’searsbutmine.”
MyeyesclosedasIshuddered,lostalittleinthewavesofrawpleasure—inthefeelofhishardfleshandthetendonsofhisforearmthatIhadclutchedatsomepoint—andIheardandsawnothing.AllIfeltwastheripplingtremorsofpleasureandtheheatedpresenceofhisfingerasitslowed.
IwaspantingasIsettledinhislap,bodylimpandrelaxedcompletelyintohis.Iwatchedthroughhalf-openedeyesasheslidhispalmovermythighandliftedhishand.
PrinceThorne’seyessnaggedmineashebroughthisglisteningfingertohismouthand…andsuckeddeep.
Ohgods,myentirebodytensedoncemore.
“Thankyou,”hesaid,thenhisgazeflickedtotheBaron.“Idoenjoydessert.”
Claudelaugheddeeply,finishingoffhisglassofbrandy.“Don’tweall?”
“ThereissomethingIrequirefromyou,Baron,”PrinceThornesaidafteramoment,hisotherhandreturningtomywaistwhileIfocusedonslowingmybreathingandmyheart.“Iwanther.”
Iwentstiff.
“Iwanther,”PrinceThornerepeated.“Forthedurationofmytimehere,sheismine.”CHAPTER23
Theunexpectedandpossiblyinappropriateorgasmhadlikelyaddledmymind,becausetherewasnowayI’dheardPrinceThornecorrectly.
Claudeslowlyloweredthebottleofbrandy.“Why?”
“Doestherehavetobeareason?”PrinceThornecountered.
Disbeliefcoursedthroughme.Ihadheardhimcorrectly.
Jerkingoutofmystupor,Isnappedforward,butIdidn’tmakeitveryfarbeforethePrince’sarmtuggedmebackagainsthischest.Myheadwhippedtowardhim.“Letmego.”
Swirlingeyeslockedwithmine.Atenseheartbeatpassed;thenhisarmslippedawayasafaintgrinappeared.“Yourcommandismywill.”
Istood,bumpingintothetableandrattlingtheglassesthatremainedasIslippedawayfromhim.“Idon’tknowwhyyou’resmiling,YourGrace.Whatyouaskfor,youcannothave.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected.Hepickeduphiswhiskey.“Thisshouldcomeasasurprisetonoone,butjustsoweallareclear,whatIwant?Iget.AndwhatIwantisforyoutokeepmecompanyduringmystayhere.”
Iinhaledsharply.“Well,Isupposethiswillbeafirstforyouthen.”
Hetookadrinkashelookedupatme.“Ialreadyhadafirst.JustoncewhenIdidn’tgetwhatIwanted.Therewillnotbeasecondtime.”
AngerwelledupinsidemesoquicklythatIforgotwhathewasandwhoIwas.“Youareoutofyourmindifyouthinkyoucanjustdemandtohaveme.”
“Lis,”Claudewarned.
“No,”Isnapped,chestrisingandfallingheavily.“Itwillbeovermydeadbody.”
ThePrinceonlyraisedabrow.“That’sabitdramatic,na’laa.”
“Don’tcallmethat.”Mylipsthinned.“Iamnotanobjectthatyoucansimplytakepossessionoforcollect.”
“Ididn’tsuggestthatyouareanobject.”
Mynailsbitintomypalms.“Exactlywhatareyousuggestingthen?BecauseIdidn’thearyouaskmewhatIwanted.”
“Ialreadyknowwhatyouwant.”Somethingfartooclosetoamusementdancedinhischurningeyes.
“YouhavenoideawhatIwant.”
“We’llhavetodisagreeonthat.”
“There’snodisagreeing—”
“I’monlyaskingthisonce,”hesaidtotheBaron,cuttingmeoff.“Iwillnotaskagain.”
“Inotherwords,you’renotaskingforpermission,”Ishotback.
Heliftedashoulder.“Youcanchoosetoseeitthatway.”
“Choose?”Iexclaimed.“Thereisnootherwaytoseeit.”
“Oncemore,wewillhavetodisagree.”
“Whyher?”Claudedemandedagain,surprisingme.
PrinceThornedidn’tanswerforalongmoment.“Iwillneedtofeed,andIprefertodosowithher.”
Hewantedmesohecouldfeed?Theangernearlychokedme,butitwastingedwithsomethingakinto…todisappointment?Whichmadenosense.Furious,IturnedawayfromthePrince,fullyintendingonleavingthedininghall.Iwasdonewiththisabsurdity.
“YouaskedifIwascruel.”PrinceThornespokeagain,focusingontheBaron.“Iaskthesamequestionofyou.Areyoucruel?”
Istopped,turningbacktothePrince.Hewouldn’t…
“I’msorry?”Claudestood,plantinghishandsonthetable.“I’mnotsurewhyyouwouldaskthatquestionofme.”
“You’renot?”PrinceThornespokesoftly,sendingachillthroughme.“Youclaimthatsheismostvaluedandyetyouhavetreatedherwithsuchrecklessdisregard.Yousenthertomyquarters,apparentlyeithertooforgetfulortoointoxicatedtoinformmeofherarrival.Shecould’vebeenkilled.”
“ButIwasn’t,”Ihissed.“Obviously.”
PrinceThorneignoredme.“Notonlythat,shehasbeentreatedcruelly.WhenIsawherearlier,shewasbruised.”
Myheadjerkedback.“Iwasnotbruised.”
ThePrinceeyedme.“Idoenjoyyourlies.”
Claudeturnedstifflytowardme.“Whatishespeakingof?”
“Nothing—”
“Herwristwasbruised,”PrinceThorneinterrupted.“Shesaidshegotitwhilegardening.”
“Idid.”Ishothimaglarethatshould’vesethimafire.
Hewasunfazed.“Itwassuchastrangebruisetoobtainwhilegardening,consideringitclearlyresembledfingerprints.”
“Whathappened,Lis?”Claudeasked,pressinghishandsflattothetable.
Iliftedmychin.“AsIsaid,nothing.”
Claude’sjawhardenedasheleanedforward.“Hyhborncannotlie,butcaelestiasandmortalscan.Iwantthetruth.”
“I’mnotsayingheis.”Thetipsofmyearsburning,Icrossedmyarms.“Ididn’tevenrealizeIwasbruised,soIassumedithappenedwhileIwasgardening.”
“Huh.”PrinceThorneinclinedhishead.“Ididn’tknowplantshadfingersandwereabletograbsomeonehardenoughtoleaveabruise.”
“Nooneaskedyouforyouropinion,”Iretorted.
Slowly,thePrinceturnedhisgazeuponme.
“Lis,”Claudehissedthistime.“Youknowbetter.”
Idid.
IdidknowbetterasIstaredatthePrinceofVytrus,myheartslammingagainstmyribs.I’doverstepped,morethanonce,butthistime,I’dbelly-floppedoverthatline.Ifroze.Tinyhairsliftedalongthenapeofmyneckastheairthickenedandtheflamesstilled.Thatmouthofminehadsurelygottenmeintroublethistime.
ButPrinceThorne…hesmiled.
Mystomachdipped.
Thesmilehebestowedwasnottightorcold.Itwaswideandreal,showingahintofteethandsofteningtheicy,unrealbeautyofhisfeatures.
“Shemeantnooffense.ThatIcanassureyou,”Claudepromised,andIalmostlaughedattheironyofhimhavingtodefendme.“Shesometimesspeakspassionatelyand…withoutthinking.”
“Nooffensetaken.”TheblueofthePrince’seyeshadbrightenedoncemore.“Quitetheopposite,tobehonest.”
Ishookmyheadindisbelief,buthedidseem…pleased,andthatwasjust,well,somehowmoredisturbing.
“Yourunderstandingisappreciated.”Claudetookhisseat.“Isweartoyouthatmytreatmentofherisnotwhatleftherskinbruised.”Amuscleflexedalonghisjaw.“ButIwillgettothebottomofit.”
“Gladtohearthat.”PrinceThorne’sfingerstappedalongthetableagain.“Andmyrequest?”
Hisrequest?Morelikehisdemand.
“Iwillbeleavingthedayaftertomorrowtomeetwithmyarmiestoescortthemhere,”PrinceThornecontinued.“Itwilltakeseveraldaystomakethejourney,butwhileI’mhere,Iwantherwithme.”
Clauderefilledhisbrandy.Hisknuckleswerebleachedwhiteashegrippedtheglassandtookadrink.
Istartedtosweat,anxietybuilding.
“Ihavenoproblemwithyourrequest,”theBaronannounced.
“What?”Igasped,twistingtowardhim.
“Perfect.”ThePrincenoddedatClaude,thenrose,turningtome.Hesmiled.“Ourarrangementisagreeduponthen.”
Havingnotagreedtoanything,Itookastepback,bumpingintothetable.
Hissmiledeepened.“Youhaveanhourtoreadyyourself.”Heprowledpastme,stoppingashisarmbrushedmine.Helookeddown,lasheslowered.“Isolookforwardtoseeingyoulater.”
Stunnedspeechless,IwatchedthePrinceofVytrusstalkoutofthedininghall.Icouldn’tevenmoveasIstoodthere,myskinflashingbetweenhotandcold
“Howcouldyoutellhimthatwasokay?”IfacedtheBaron.Thenitsankin,finallybreakingthroughtheanger.Hyhborncouldtakewhattheywanted,evenfromacaelestia.“Youdidn’thaveachoice,”Iadmitted,buthecould…hecould’veatleastsaidthathewasn’tokaywithit.
“Hegaveachoice,Lis.Evenifitdidn’tsoundlikehewas,youknowthathedid.”Claudestaredfrombeyondthenow-calmcandlelight.“Hecould’vesimplycompelledbothofusintoagreement.”
Yes,thePrincecould’vedonethat.“Doesthatmatter?”
“Itshouldalwaysmatter,”Claudestatedsoftly,drinking.
Ithadmatteredlastnight,butthathadbeendifferent.“Thisisabsurd!”Ishouted,throwingupmyhands.“Icannot—”
“Who?”Claudeasked.“Whobruisedyou?”
Icouldn’tbelievehewasfocusedonthatwhenhehadbasicallyhandedmeofftoaHyhbornprince.“That’snotreallyimportantatthemoment.”
“Ibegtodiffer.Iwanttoknowwho.”
“Itisn’t—”
“Answerme!”Claudeyelled,smackingahandontothetableandcausingmetojump.Hetookadeepbreath,lookingaway.“I’msorry.IknowI’mnotperfectandthereissomuchthatIcoulddobetterwhenitcomestoyou—withallofthis.”Hegesturedtothehallwithawidesweepofhisarmashisgazereturnedtome.Severalmomentspassed.“Butespeciallyyou.ThegodsknowIwantmoreforus—foryou,butIknowwhyyoustay,Lis.Ido.”
Ifellsilent,aknotlodginginmythroat.
“Thefearyouhaveofbeingbackoutthere—youandGradylivingoffthestreets?It’sahorriblethingtolivewith,onethatI’vebeenluckyenoughtoneverknow.”Helaughed,butitwaswithouthumor.“ButI’vecapitalizedonthatfear.I’vebenefitedfromitwhenIshould’vedonetheexactopposite.”
I…Icouldn’tbelievewhatIwashearing.Ihadn’tknownthathe…herealized.Thatheknew.Theknotexpanded.
“IwishIcouldsayI’mabetterperson,butIknowI’mnot,”hecontinued,jawworking.“However,Ihaveneverraisedahandagainstyou—againstanyofmyparamours.ThatistheonethingIcouldtakecomfortinprovidingyou.Safety.Security.Becausethatiswhyyoustay.”
Iclutchedthebackofachairasmythroatthickenedandmyeyesstung.“You…youhavegivenmethat.”
“Iclearlyhaven’t.”Hisstaremetmine.“WasitHymel?”
Ihesitated,becausethegodsknewIdidn’twanttoprotectthatbastard,butIfearedwhatHymelwoulddoifClaudeconfrontedhim.ToGrady.EventotheBaron.“No,”Isaid.“Ihonestlydon’tknowhowIgotit.Isweartoyou.”
Claudesaidnothingformanymoments;thenhelookedaway,pickinguphisglassandswallowingthesweetliquor.“I’mactuallyrelievedbythePrince’sdemand.”
Iblinked.“What?”
“WhoelsewouldyoubesaferwiththanthePrinceofVytrus?”heappealed.
Myfingerspressedintothewoodofthechair.“Idon’tneedtobesafe.”
Clauderaisedhisbrows.
“Okay,thatdidn’tcomeoutright,”Isaid.“WhatImeantisthatIdon’tneedtobeprotected.”
“Obviouslyyoudo.”
Istiffened.“Iamsafehere.Ipromise—”
“I’mnoteventalkingaboutthat,”heinterrupted.“VayneBeylenandtheIronKnightsareheadingthisway.Yousaidsoyourself.He’scoming.”
Well,Iwasn’tsosurethatmypremonitionhadbeenaboutBeylen,butthatwasbesidethepoint.“Wemaygetlucky,andthesheerforceoftheRoyalregimentwillswaytheWestlandsandtheIronKnightsawayfromattemptingtoseizeArchwood.”
Claudesnorted.“Beylenismanythings,buteasilyswayedisnotoneofthem.IfhewasgivenanordertotakeArchwood,hewillfollowthrough.”
“Howcanyouknowthat?”
TheBaronsaidnothing.
Pressureclampeddownonmychest,andmysensesopenedimmediately.Myintuitionstretchedoutasthatstringformedinmymind.Icameintothatgraywallandpushed.“Youdoknowhim.”
Claudeturnedalookofdisapprovalonme.“Don’treadme,Lis.”
“Iwouldapologizefordoingso,butmygods,ifyouknowtheCommanderoftheIronKnights,don’tyouthinkthat’ssomethingyoushould’veletPrinceThorneknowbeforeeitherheortheKinglearnsofthisfromanyoneelse?”Idroppedintotheseat.“Iftheyfindout…”
“I’llbehangingfromthegallows?”Claudelaughedroughly.“Trustme,Iknow.”Helethisheadtipbackagainsthischair.“We’reactuallyrelated,Lis.Thankfully,acousindistantenoughthatitwouldbehardtofindexactlywhereourfamilytreemeets.”
IfIhadn’tbeensitting,Iwould’vefallendown.“Ifyou’rerelated…”Iplacedmyhandsonthetable.“Onwhichsideofthefamily?”
“Father’s.”
“Thenthat…thatwouldmeanhe’sacaelestia,”Iwhispered.“Theleaderofthelowbornrebellionisn’tevenalowborn?”
Claudesalutedhisglassasanswer,chuckling.“Sorry,Idoloveseeingyousurprised.Itissuchararity.”
Ifellbackinthechair.“Well,maybethatanswerswhyhewouldjoinforceswithaHyhborn—somethingyoupretendedtohavenoclueabout.”
“Iwasn’tpretending.Itooam…surprisedbythat,butBeylenisn’t…”Hiseyesclosed.“WespentafewyearstogetherwhenIwasaboy.”
“He’sfromtheMidlands?”Iasked.“HowdidheendupintheWestlands,amortalcommandingaCourtarmy?”
“He’sstarborn,”hesaid,andIfrowned.Notonlybecausethattoldmenothingatall,butbecausetherewassomethingvaguelyfamiliaraboutthatphrase.“Noneofthatmattersrightnow.WhatdoesisthatBeylenwon’tbeswayedandthere’snoplacesafertobethanwithaHyhbornprince.”
IwasstillstuckonthefactthathewasrelatedtotheCommanderoftheIronKnights.ThatwasmoreimportantthanPrinceThorne’sdemand.“ThenBeylenknowsyou’retheBaronofArchwood.You’refamily.”
“Familyisn’talwayseverything,”hemurmured,starefixedonthecandles.“Notwhenitcomestowhathe…”Claudeshookhishead.“Therearethingsfarstrongerthanblood.”
Atinyshivererupted,andmythoughtsflashedtoMavenandtowhattheBaronknewaboutmyabilities—thegrayshieldprotectingtheirthoughts.“HowdidyouknowitwouldbeeasiertocracktheshieldofaHyhbornthatwasn’taspowerfulasaprince?”
Hisbrowsknitted.“What?”
“Thismorning,yousaidthat.”
Hetookadrink.“Itrulyhavenoideawhatyou’respeakingof.”
Doubtrose.“Howcould—”
“Youshouldbereadyingyourself,Lis,”heinterrupted.“ThePrincewillreturnforyouandyouhavelittletime.”
“Idon’tcareaboutthatrightnow.”
Abriefsmileappeared.“YouandIbothknowthat’snottrue.”
“Allright,Idocareaboutthat,butwecangetbacktothatmessinaminute.”
“Mess?”Hechuckled.“I’mnotsurewhyyou’reevenprotestingsomuch.Youappearedtothoroughlyenjoyhisattentions,”hepointedout.“Idon’tthinkI’veseenapersoncomeashardasyoudid.”
MycheekscaughtfireasImuttered,“Idoubtthat’strue.”
“Comenow,pet.NothingI’vedonewithmycockormytonguehasevercomeclosetowhathedidwithhisfingers,”hesaid.“EvenIcanadmitIneverbroughtthatsortofecstasytoyourface.”
“Ican’tbelieveI’mevenhavingthisconversation.”Ireachedforabottleofwineleftonthetableanddrankstraightfromit.“Noneofthatmatters,Claude.I’mnotanobjecttobegivenortaken.”
“Andyou’renotowned.Youstatedthatclearlyenoughatsupper,butyou?”Heliftedafingerfromhisglass,pointingitatme.“You’rewrong.WeallareownedbytheKing.Wearehissubjects,infleshandspirit.”
“Okay,well,besidesthat.”Iclutchedtheneckofthebottle.“Hewantstousemesohecanfeed,Claude.”
“Isincerelydoubtthatisthesolereason,Lis.Thereareinnumerablewayshecouldfeedthatdon’trequirehimdoingsofromoneperson.”
“Thenwhyme?”
Heraisedabrow.“Goodquestion,isitnot?”
Itwasn’t.Notatall.“Idon’twanttogowithhimandbe—beunderhismercy,hiscommand.”
“Ihaveafeelingthatbeingunderhiscommandandathismercywillonlyinvolvebeingunderhim,”Claudereplied.
Asharptwistofdesirepulsedthroughmedespitemyanger,andthatmademereallywanttosmackmyself.“Iwanttothrowthisbottleatyou.”
Claudelaughed.“Youshouldrestyourthrowingarmforwhenyou’rewiththePrince.Ihavethisdistinctimpressionthatsuchanactwillarousehim.”
“Ohmygods.”Ifellagainstthebackofthechair,shakingmyhead.“WhatifhethinksI’maconjurer?”
“Butyou’renot.”
“Thathasn’tstoppedyoufromworryingabouttheHyhbornaccusingmeofsuchinthepast,”Iremindedhim.
“Yes,buthewon’tthinkthat,”heargued.
“Andhowdoyouknowthat?”
“BecauseIdo,”hesaid.“He’saprince.Ifanyonewouldknow,itwouldbehim.”
Iwasn’tsureifthatmadeadifferenceornot.Nibblingonmylowerlip,Istruggledtobeatbacktherisingtideoffrustration.“Idon’tevenknowwhyhewantsthis.”
“Icanthinkofacoupleofreasons,”Clauderemarkeddryly.
Iwassurehecould.Staringatthearchedceilinganditsgoldveining,Ishookmyheadagain.Severalmomentspassed.IlookedoveratClaude.
Hewasstaringintohisalmostemptyglass.“Doyoureallynotwanttogotohim?”
Iopenedmymouth.
“Honestly?”heinsisted.“Iwantanhonestanswer,Lis.”
Snappingmyjawshut,Igavemyheadanothershake.Ididn’tknowhowtoanswerthat.TherewasnothingbutconfusingthoughtsandfeelingsifIsparedonethoughtforthePrince—formyHyhbornprince.“IfhesimplyaskedmeifIwouldliketokeephimcompanywhilehere,Icouldanswerthatquestionforyou,buthedidn’task,soIcan’t.”
“Andifhehad,youwould’vesaid…yes?”
Ikeptmymouthshut.
Clauderaisedhisbrows.“He’saprince,Lis.Theirconceptofaskingisprettymuchwhatyoujustwitnessed.”
“So?”
“Mostlordswouldn’thaveevengonesofarastoask,letaloneaprince.Hell,mostHyhbornwouldn’thaveeventhoughttwice.Theywould’vesimplycompelledyou,thentakenyou.”
Loweringmychin,Ipinnedhimwithaglare.“So?”
“You’relosingtime,pet.”Grabbingtheoval-shapedbottleofbrandy,herose.“Readyyourself.”
Ididn’tmove.
Claudesighedheavilyashecrossedthechamber,stoppingshortofopeningthedoor.“Gradywillbefinewhileyou’rewiththePrince.Ipromiseyouthat.”
Iclosedmyeyesagainstthesudden,foolishrushoftearsasitbecamesoquietinthehallthatIwould’vethoughtClaudehadleft.
TheBaronhadn’t.“Thisisagoodthing,Lis.Ihopeyoucometounderstandthat,”hetoldme.“BecausethePrinceofVytruswillbeabletoprovideyouwithwhatIcannot.”
“Andwhatisthat?”
“Everything.”
Wipingmypalmsundermyeyes,Itwistedtowardthedoor.“What…?”
Thespacetherewasempty.TheBaronwasgone.CHAPTER24
“Ican’tevenimagineit,”Naomiwhisperedfromwhereshestood,staringoutthewindowofmyantechamber,herarmswrappedtightlyaroundherwaist.“Theideaoftherebeingasiege—awar.”
PartofmethoughtthatmaybeIshouldn’thavetoldNaomiwhatI’dlearnedabouttheWestlandsarmywhenI’dcrossedpathswithheruponleavingthedininghall.Itwasn’tbecauseIfearedthatshewouldthengoandtellothers,possiblycausingapanic.Iknewshewouldn’t.Ijusthatedseeingherconcerned—afraid.
“YouknowwhenIsaidthatI’dhopedthere’dbelordshereintimefortheFeasts?”Naomilookedoverhershoulderatme,thepalelavenderofhergownstandingoutstarklyagainstthenightskybeyondthewindow.“Ididn’tmeananarmyofthem.”
“Iknow,”IsaidfromwhereIsatonthesettee,mylegstuckedunderneathme.Thoughtsheavy,Ifiddledwithoneofthelacesonmygown.
“HaveyoutoldGradyyet?”sheasked.
Ishookmyhead.Iwantedto,butseeingGradyrightnowmeantthatIwouldalsohavetotellhimaboutthisnewarrangement—somethingIknewhewouldn’trespondwellto.IwouldsomehowneedtoconvincehimthatIhadagreedtokeepingthePrincecompany,butapparently,Iwasn’tallthatconvincingwhenitcametomyemotions.Istillcouldn’tbelievethatClaudehadknownwhyIstayedinArchwood—thathehadalwaysknown.Ididn’tknowhowtofeelaboutit.Ididn’tknowwhythatmademe…sad.Icouldn’tevenbegintofigurethatoutwhenIhadthistodealwith.
PullingmygazefromwhereI’dplacedtherubyheadpieceonasmalltable,Iglancedatthedoor.Thehourwasalmostuponme.Mystomachdipped.“WhenClaudesummonedmelastnight,hesentmetooneoftheHyhbornwho’darrivedaheadoftheregiment.Claudehadn’tknownwhytheHyhbornwerehereyetandhe’dwantedmetofindoutwhy.”
Naomiturnedfromthewindow,thedelicatearchesofherbrowsrising.“Mygods,you’rejustnowtellingmeaboutthis?”sheasked.“Iwould’veexpectedyoutohavebeenatmychamberdoorsfirstthinginthemorning.I’msodisappointedinyou.”
Unfurlingmylegs,Iscootedtotheedgeofthesettee.“Don’tbedisappointed.Therewasn’tmuchtotell.”
“Don’tbullshitme,Lis.Therehastobeawholelottotell.”Hereyeswidenedasshesteppedforward.“UnlessyouusedtheLongNightlastnight?OnaHyhbornlord?”
“Ididn’ttry.Iwasn’tsureifitwouldworkandIdidn’triskit,”Itoldher.“Anditwasn’talord.ItwasthePrince.”
“ThePrince?”sherepeated,lipsparting.“ThePrinceofVytrus?”
Inodded.
“Holyshit.Ineedamomenttoprocessthis—Wait.”Hereyesbravelymetmine.“Did…didsomethinghappenwhenyouwerewiththePrince?”EverythingaboutNaomichangedinaninstant.Gonewastheteasingseductress,andinherplacewasanalerttigress.“Whathappenedlastnight,Lis?”
“NothingIdidn’tallowtohappen—nothingthatIdidn’twant,”Iassuredher.“Hewas—Idon’tknow.”Ishookmyhead.“NotasIexpected.”
“He’ssaidtobe—”
“Amonster.Iknow,buthe’s…”PrinceThornewasalotofthings—infuriatingandentitled,demandingandannoying—buthewasn’tamonster.“Idon’tthinkalotofwhathasbeensaidabouthimisthetruth.”
“Forreal?”
“Yes.Ipromise.”
“Good.”Sherelaxed,unfoldingherarms.“Iwould’vehatedhavingtogetmyselfkilledintheprocessofchoppingoffaHyhbornprince’sdick.”
Aloudlaughburstoutofme.
Naomicrossedherarms.“YouthinkI’mlying?”
“Idon’t.That’swhyIfinditfunny.”
“Thisistheperfectdistraction.”Shenudgedmyfootwithhers.“IwanteverylastjuicydetailabouthowthedreadedPrinceofVytruswasnotasyou..expected.”Shewinked.“AndImayneedademonstrationofexactlyhow.”
“Well,theremaynotbetimeforthat,”Isaidwithanervoushitchtomyvoice.“There’smore.ThePrincerequested—andIusetheword‘requested’inthebarestsensepossible—thatIkeephimcompanyduringhistimeatArchwood.”
Sheblinkedonce,thentwice.“Seriously?”
“Unfortunately.”Igrippedtheedgeofthesettee.
Shestaredatmeforwhatfeltlikeafullminute.“Okay,Idon’tbelievenothingmuchhappenedlastnight.Whatarethesethingsthatyouwillinglydidthatmust’veimpressedhimenoughtorequestsuchathing?”
“Trustme,hewasn’timpressed.”Clearlyhewasn’tallthatimpressed,sincehedidn’tbelieveIwasasexperiencedasI’dtriedandfailedtopresentmyselfas.“Ithinkhe…Youknow,Ihonestlydon’tknowwhy.Itmakeslittlesensetome.”
Comingtothesettee,shesatbesideme.“It’sobviousyou’renotthrilledaboutthis.Didyounot…enjoyyourtimewithhim?”
“It’snotthat.”Ibrushedastrandofhairbackfrommyface.“Ididenjoyit.”
“But?”
“Hedidn’treallyask,Naomi.Itwasmorelikepretendingtoask.Hemadeitclearthathewouldn’tbehappywithanoforananswer.”
“I’msurprisedheevenpretended,tobehonest—andIknowthat’snotthepoint,”sheaddedwhenIopenedmymouth.“I’vejustneverreallyheardoftheHyhbornactuallyaskingforpermissionforanything.”
NeitherhadI.“Idon’tlikethathethinkshecanjustmakesuchademand,andIdon’tcareifhe’saprinceornot.Thatshouldn’tmatter.”
“No,itshouldn’t,”sheagreed.“Anditwouldpissmeofftoo.”Sheglancedoveratme.“Didyouagreetoit?”
“Notreally.”Isighed.
“AndwhatdidClaudesayaboutthis?”Naomiasked,thensnorted.“Thenagain,whatcouldhetrulysay?AHyhbornisdeniednothing.”
“Exactly,”Imuttered.“Buthere’sthestrangething.ClaudehasalwaysbehavedasifhefearedthatbeingaroundHyhborncouldleadtothemaccusingmeofusingbonemagic.AndIneverreallybelievedthattobethesolereason.Ithinkhewasalsoworriedanotherwould,Idon’tknow,coaxmeaway…buthewasactuallyrelievedbythePrince’srequest.”
“I…”Naomi’snosescrunched.“Thatisstrange.”
“Yeah.”
Shewasquietforacoupleofmoments.“Whatareyougoingtodo?”
“Idon’tknow.”Ileanedbackagainstthecushion,foldingmyarms.Mythoughtsraced.Iknewitwouldn’tbewisetodenyaprince,soIhadtoproceedwithcaution.“ButifhethinksthatI’mjustgoingtosubmitandmakethiseasyforhim?Hehasanotherthinkcoming.”
AknockcameshortlyafterNaomihadleft.Ihadn’twantedhercaughtinthemiddlewhenPrinceThornecameforme.IhadnoideawhatIwasgoingtodo,letalonehowthePrincewouldrespond.
Exceptitwasn’thimatthedoor.
LordBastianstoodinthehall,hismouthcurvedinahalfgrin.“Goodevening,”hesaid,bowingslightly.Myeyesweredrawntothedaggerstrappedtohischest.“I’mtoescortyoutoPrinceThorne.”
MybackstiffenedasIclaspedthesideofthedoor,andIwasn’tsurewhy,butPrinceThornesendinganothertoescortmehiteverynerveinmybodythewrongway.“Hewasunabletocomehimself?”
“Unfortunatelyno.”Heclaspedhishandsbehindhisback.“HeisrunningabitbehindandaskedthatIgoinhisstead.”
“Iapologizeforwastingyourtime.”Ispokecarefully,havingnoideahowthisHyhbornlordwouldrespond.“ButIhavenointentionsofjoiningPrinceThornethisevening.”
Darkbrowslifted.“Youdonot?”
“No.I’mnotfeelingallthatwell,”Isaid.“Hewillneedtofindsomeotherwaytooccupyhistime.”
Thenearbybutterylightofawallsconceglancedoffthesmooth,darkskinabovehisneatlytrimmedbeard.“IstheresomethingthatIcouldgetforyouthen?”
“Excuseme?”
“You’refeelingunwell.”ThegreenofhiseyesbrightenedtothepointwhereIcouldn’tseetheothercolors.“IstheresomethingIcanretrieveforyou?”
Iblinkedrapidly.“Th—”Istoppedmyself,andtheothersideofLordBastian’slipstippedup.“Iappreciateyouroffer,butIhavewhatIneed.”
“Yousure?”hepressed.“Itwillbenotrouble.”
Inodded.“Again,Iapologizeforwastingyourtime,mylord.Idowishyouagoodevening.”Imovedtoclosethedoor.
LordBastianmovedsofastIcouldn’tevenhopetotrackhismovement.Onehandshotout,landingonthecenterofthedoorandstoppingmefromclosingit.“MayIaskwhatisailingyou?”LordBastiandippedhischin.“Thorwillask,afterall.”
“Thor?”Imurmured.
“ShortforThorne.Itannoyshimwhenwecallhimthat,soofcourse,thatisallwecallhim.”LordBastianwinked.
“Oh.”Thatwasmymostintelligentresponse.Iwasalittlethrownbyhisteasingnature.“I…I,uh,haveaheadache.”
“Ah,Isee.”StraightwhiteteethappearedastheLordsmiledmorebroadly.“I’mguessingthatheadacheisaratherlargeone?Perhapsifyouhadtodescribeit,you’dsaythatitcameinasix-foot-and-seven-inchframe?”
Isnappedmymouthshut.
LordBastianchuckled.“Iwilllethimknowthatyouare…feelingundertheweather.”Hishandslidoffthedoor.“Idohopeyoudon’tfindyourselfplaguedbyanevenlargerheadache.”Hesteppedback,claspinghishandsbehindhisbackoncemore.“Goodevening.”
“Goodevening.”Iclosedthedoor,goingrigidwhenIheardhismuffledlaughfromthehall.
Clearly,LordBastiandidn’tbelieveme.Ormoreaccurately,he’dguessedthesourceofmyfabricatedheadache.
ButPrinceThornewouldhavetobearightassifhesentanotherorcamehimselfafterhearingthatIwasn’tfeelingwell.Ididn’tthinkitwouldholdhimoffforever,butitshouldatleastgivemethenighttofigureoutwhatIwasgoingtodo—whatIcoulddo—andpossiblylonger,sincehesaidhehadtoleavetomeetwithhisarmies.
Butdoyoureallywanttostophimfromcoming?thatannoyingvoicewhispered.
“Yes,”Ihissed,toeingoffmyshoes.Icrossedtheantechamber,mybarefeetsinkingintothesoftarearugasIwenttothesmallcredenzaandpouredmyselfahalfshotofwhiskey.TheliquorwasthebestArchwoodhadtooffer,mellowandsmoothwiththebaresttasteofalcohol.Orsoeveryonesaid.Icouldstilltastethebiteofliquor,butIdownedthewhiskey,lipspeelingbackagainsttheburn.
Itdidlittletocalmmynerves,andIpouredmyselfanotherhalfshotandbroughtitwithmeasIwalkedtothewindow.Ilookedpastthegoldensōlsdancinginthenightsky.
BythetimetheFeastswereinfullswing,thePrince’sarmieswouldbeatArchwood.Then,howlongbeforetheIronKnightsmadetheirwayhere?IttooknoleapoflogictoassumethattheacthadmoretodowiththeimportanceoftheportandtheHyhbornCourtseatedjustbeyondthanitdidwiththepeoplewhocalledArchwoodhome.
Irestedmycheekagainstthewindow,thinkingofwhatthepeopleofArchwoodwouldthinkoncetheysawtheHyhbornforces.OncetheylearnedoftheWestlandsthreat?Thefearanddreadwouldbepalpable.Iswallowedthewhiskey,welcomingthebitethistime.Thearistowouldlikelyabandonthecityuntilthethreathadpassed.Manyhadfamiliesinothercitiesandthemeanswithwhichtotravelthere.ButthepoorestamongtheArchwood—theminersanddockworkers,thelaborers?Everyonewhokeptthecityandtheportsopenandrunning?There’dbenoeasyescapeforthem.They’dhavetorideitout—
Ifeltthesuddenshiftinginthechamber.Tinyhairsalongthenapeofmyneckroseasachargehittheair.Aclickingnoisesentashiverovermyskin—thedistinctivesoundofalock.
Heartthudding,Islowlyturnedtothedoor.Therewasnoway.Iloweredtheemptyglasstomyside.
Thedoorswungopenandhestoodthere,legsplantedwideandshoulderssquared,hairsweptbackfromhisstrikingfeaturesandknotted.Thearmorstillshieldinghischest.Helookedlikeawarrior,andonethingbecameclear.
PrinceThornehadcometoconquer.CHAPTER25
PrinceThornecrossedthethreshold,thelightofmychamberglintingoffthegoldenhiltofthedaggerstrappedtohischest.
Ididn’tthink.Ishouldhave,butIsimplyreacted.
IthrewtheglassatthePrinceofVytrus.
Inthebriefsecondsfollowingtheglassleavingmyhand,IrealizedI’dhadnoideaofhowreckless,howidioticItrulywasuntilthatverymoment.
Theglassstoppedinmidair,severalfeetfromthePrince.
Isuckedinasharpbreath,eyeswidening.
“Na’laa,”PrinceThornerumbledsoftly,theblueofhiseyesabrilliantshade.Theglassshatteredintonothing—absolutelynothing.Noteventinyshardsremained.Itwassimplyobliterated.
Itookanunsteadystepback.
Hesmiled,andIshiveredlikeanypreywoulduponrealizingthey’dnotonlycomeface-to-facewithahonedpredatorbuthadtauntedthem.“Youhaveaverygoodarmonyou,”hesaid.“Though,Iwould’vepreferredtodiscoverthatinawaythatdidn’tinvolveanobjectbeingthrownatmyhead.”
MyheartthumpedsofastIfearedImightbesick.“I…Ididn’tmeantodothat.”
“Really?”hedrawled.
Swallowing,Inodded.“Theglassslippedfrommyfingers.”
Aneyebrowrose.“Slippedallthewayacrosstheroom?”
“Youstartledme,”Iargued,fullyrealizinghowridiculousmyexcusewas.“Iwasn’texpectingsomeonetounlockthedoorandbargein.Though,Ishouldhave.Youdohaveahabitofsuch.”
“YouknowverylittleofwhathabitsIhave.”Onesideofhislipstipped.“ButIdoknowyouhaveahabitoflying,whichIdoenjoyimmensely.”
Istiffened.“Ibegtodiffer.Iknowofatleasttwohabits.Bargingintoplacesyou’renotinvitedandinsistinguponinsultingmyhonoreachtimeyouseeme.”
“Howisitaninsulttoyourhonorwhenit’struth?”hecountered.“Perhapsyoudishonoryourselfbylying.”
Mychestroseasangerlancedthroughme.“Whyareyouhere,YourGrace?”
“Wehaveanarrangement.”
“Wedonot,butthat’snotthepoint.Ihaveaheadache.”
“Yes,onethatissixfeetandseveninchesinshape?”
Igaped.“ItwasnotIwhosaidthat.”
“Iknow.ThosewereLordBastian’swords.”Heglancedaroundtheroom,gazeskippingovermyshoesandtheuncorkedbottleofwhiskey.“HealwayslikestoshaveaninchfrommyheightsothatI’mnottallerthanhim.”
Mybrowcreased;thenIgaveasmallshakeofmyhead.“Bethatasitmay,IstillhaveaheadacheandI’mnotfeelinguptocompanythisevening.”
Thoseswirlingirisessettledonme.“YouandIbothknowthat’snotthecase.”
“Howwouldyouknow?”Icrossedmyarms.“Areyoutellingmethatyoucanbesotunedintoapersonthatyoucansenseiftheyhaveaheadache?”
“No.”Hislaughwaslowandsoft,sendingachillupmyspine.“Isimplydon’tbelieveyou.”
“Well,that’srude.”
“Thetruthisneverrude,onlyunwanted.”Hisgrinspreadintoahintofashadowysmile,causingtheirritationtoprickawayatmyskin.“Youlooklikeyouwishtothrowthatwhiskeybottleatmenext.”
“Thatwouldbeawasteoffineliquor,”Iretorted.
“Andmuchhardertoclaimitonlyslippedfromyourfingers.”He’dcomecloserinthatsilentwayofhis.“Wehaveanarrangement.Areyougoingtohonorit?”
“No.”Iliftedmychin.“Becausethereisnoarrangementformetohonor.”
“Figured.”
Isteppedbackaninch.ThatwasasfarasImadeit.PrinceThornewasonmebeforeIcouldtakeanotherbreath.Oneofhisarmswentaroundmywaistashebent,andasecondlaterIwashoistedup,ontohisshoulder.Foramoment,IwassoshockedIcoulddonothingasIdangledthere,myhairstreamingovermyfaceandthewoodsyscentofhisoverwhelmingme.
Thenheturned.
“Oh,mygods,”Ishrieked,grabbingafistfulofhistunic.“Putmedown!”
“Iwould,butIhaveafeelingyou’regoingtowanttoargue.”PrinceThornestrodeintothebedchamber,passingthebed.“AndIprefertodothatwhileI’mclosetothebedIplantosleepin.”
“Youcan’tdothis!”Furyerupted,erasingallcommonsense.Ipoundedmyfistsagainsthisback,kickingmylegs—completelyforgettingwhatIwashitting.“Putme—”Ihissedaspainradiatedacrossmyballedfistsandupmyarms.“Fuck.”
“Youshouldstop,”hesaid,amusementclearinhistone.“Ireallydon’twantyoutobreakyourhands.Wemayhaveneedofthemlater.”
“Ohmygods.”Myeyeswidenedasthechamberdoorswungopen.Hewastrulygoingtocarrymetohisquarters?Hewasoutofhismind.“Youcanputmedown.”
“Idon’ttrustyou.”
“Youdon’ttrustme?”Isputteredasmychamberdoorsclosedbehindus.“You’regoingtomakeascene.”
“It’snotmewhoismakingascene.”PrinceThorne’sheadturned,hischingrazingmyhip.“Itisyourshriekingthatwillwakeanyonewhohasgonetobedandalarmthosewhohavenotyetdoneso.”
“I’mnotshrieking!”I,well,shrieked.“Idon’tpreferanyofthis.”Itriedtoliftmyselfoffhisshoulder,buthisarmclampeddownovermyback.“Thisisridiculous.”
“Iknow.”
Disbeliefroaredthroughme.“Thenputmedownor…”
“Orwhat?”
“Imayvomitalloveryourback.”
PrinceThornechuckled.“Pleasetrynottodothat,butifyoudo,itwouldbeagoodenoughexcuseforyoutoaidmeinmybath.”
Agrowlofexasperationpartedmylipsasmygazefellonthehiltofashortswordjustabovehisrighthip.Iwaslyingacrossthesheathedblade.Oncemore,IwastooangrytothinkaboutwhatIwasdoing.Iliftedahand,reachingforthehilt.
“Iwouldn’tdothat,”hewarned.
Ifroze,fingersinchesfromthegoldenhandle.Didhehaveeyesinthebackofhishead?
“Notunlessyouknowhowtowielditandplantodoso,”hetackedon.
“AndifIdid?”
“Iwouldberatherimpressed,”heremarked,andmybrowsshotup.“ButIdon’timagineyouhavesuchknowledge.”
Icouldhandleadagger;Gradyhadtaughtmethatmuch.ButIknewadaggerandaswordwerevastlydifferentthings,soIletoutafrustrated,closed-mouth,andquietscreamaswepassedthroughthedarkenedhallways.
“However,Ialsosuspectthatifyouknewhowtohandleasword,youwouldn’thesitatetouseit,”hesurmised.
“Youwouldbecorrect—”Iyelpedashebouncedme.“Thatwashighlyunnecessary,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hecorrectedwithalaugh.“Iapologize.Myshoulder…slipped.”
Isawred.“Oh,I’msureitslipped,Thor.”
ThePrincecametoacompletestop.“IseeI’mgoingtohavetokillBas.”Hestartedwalkingagain.
Mylipspartedasmyalreadytumblingstomachdipped.“What?”
“He’sonlyhalfkidding,”another,whomIrecognizedasLordBastianhimself,said.Iliftedmyhead,catchingonlyaglimpseofhischestandtheopeningdoorsofhisquartersandtheLordwhowaitedinthehalloutsideofthem.“He’dmissmeterriblyifhekilledme.”
“Iwouldn’tcountonthat,”PrinceThornewarned.
LordBastiansnortedashesteppedaside.“MayIaskwhyyou’recarryingyourguestlikeasackofpotatoes?”
Warmthhitmycheeks,butbeforeIcouldspeak,PrinceThornesaid,“Shewasprovingtoberatherdifficult.”
“Mustbethatsix-foot-six-inchheadacheofhers,”theHyhbornlordremarked
“NowI’velosttwoinches?”PrinceThornemuttered.
“I’mjuststatingfacts.”
Frustrationboiledover.“He’skidnappingme,andyoutwoarearguingoverhowmuchtallerheis?”
“See.”PrinceThornesqueezedme.“EvensheknowsI’mtaller.”
“Traitor,”LordBastiansaidwithasigh.
“That’s—”IgaspedasPrinceThornegrippedmyhipsandIwassuddenlyloweredtothefloor.AlampflickeredonalongthewallasIpulledfree,puttingseveralfeetofdistancebetweenus.
“BeforeItakemyleave,”LordBastiandrawled.“CrystianhasleftforAugustine.”
Augustine?Thatwasthecapital.
“Good.”
“Youknow,theKingwillbedispleased.”
ThePrincelookedoverathim.“Webothknowthat.”
“Thatwedo,”LordBastianmurmured,thenglancedatme,hissmilereturning.“Bytheway,Crystianalsowantstomeether.”
“I’msurehedoes,”PrinceThornemuttered.
“WhoisCrystian?”Iasked.
“Apaininmyass.”
LordBastianlaughed.“Well,don’thavetoomuchfuntonight.Morningwillcomesoonenough,anditwillbeanearlyone.”
ThePrincenoddedastheLordangledhisbodytowardmeandbowed.Mybrowshotup.Grinning,theLordstraightenedandthendisappeared.
“He’s…different,”Imurmured.
“Thatwouldbeanunderstatement.”ThePrinceclosedthedoor.Withouttouchingit.
Iswallowed.“You’redifferent.”
“That’salsoanunderstatement,na’laa.”
AlonewiththePrince,Ishiftedfromonefoottothenext.“So,whywillthemorningbeanearlyone?Haveyouchangedyourmindandwillbeleavingtomeetyourarmiesatdawn?”
PrinceThornechuckled.“Don’tfret.Iwillnotbeleavingyousosoon.TomorrowIwillbemeetingwiththoseinArchwoodtobegintrainingthosewhoareableandwillingtodefendtheircity.”
“Oh,”Iwhispered,claspingmyhandstogether.
Heglancedatme.“Youseemunsettledbythat.”
“Iam.It’snotthatI’veforgottenwhatistocome.It’sjusthearingthatmakesitmorereal.AndIwasn’tfrettingoveryourabsence.”Iglancedbeyondhim,tothedoors.Ibitdownonmylip,inchingtotheside.“I’mlookingforwardtoit.”
“Don’t.”
Mygazeflewbacktohim.
“Iwouldwarnagainstattemptingtorun,”headvised,walkingpastme.
“Becauseyouwillstopme?”
“BecauseIwillgivechase.”Heunhookedthestrapsholdingtheshortswordtohisbackashecrossedintothebedchamber.“AndIwillcaptureyou.”
Itensed.
ThePrincestoppedinthebedchamber,anglinghisbodytowardmeasheloweredtheswordhe’dwithdrawn.“Butperhapsthatiswhatyou’dwant.”Hetossedthesheathedswordontoachest.“Torun.Formetochase.”
Anunwantedthrillhitmyblood.Itwasyetfurtherproofofsomethingbeingvery,drasticallywrongwithme.Iswallowed,holdingmyselfstill.“Idon’twantthat.”
Onesideofhislipsquirkedupasheunhookedhisbaldric.“Whatdoyouwant,na’laa?”
“Notthis.”
Hislaughwaslikedarksmoke.“Whatdoyouthinkthisis?”
“IthinkI’mtobeyourownpersonalcattle.”
Ashortlaughlefthim.“Mywhat?”
“Youwantmesoyoucaneasilyfeed.Yousaidsoyourself—”
“Thatisnotthesolereason,”hecutin.“Yourbaronwantedareason.Igavehimone.”
“Thenwhy?”Istoppedmyself.Hisreasonsdidn’tmatter.“Ididn’tagreetoanything.”
Heplacedtheweaponsdown,thenkickedoffhisboots,apparentlynothavingasmallarsenaltounloadthisnight.“That’snothowIrecallithappening.”
“I’msorry?That’snothowyourecallit?”Istaredathimindisbelief.“I’msureIwasquiteclear.”
“Yes.Youwerequiteclear.”Hisheadtilted.“Justasyouwerequiteclearwhenyoucameonmyfingers—notoncebuttwice.”
Mymouthdroppedopenasheatfloodedmycheeksandlower,deepinsideme,wheremybodyclearlyknewnoshame.
Hisnostrilsflared,hiseyesbecomingluminouseveninthedistance,andIknewhesensedthatcurlofdesire.
Igrittedmyteeth.“I’mnotsurewhatthathastodowiththisarrangementyouinsistupon.”
“Ithaseverythingtodowithit.”Hedisappearedforamoment,thenreappeared,carryingabottleofliquorandtwoglasses.
ThebreathItookwentnowhereasIwatchedhimstopbythetableandpourtwoglasses.“Thenifthatisthecase,therearemanywithinthismanorandcitywhowouldbewillingtotakemyplace.”
Heglancedoverhisshoulderatme.“Butwouldanyofthemthrowaglassatme?”
Idrewashortbreaththroughmynose.“Likelynot,whichshouldrelieveyou.”
“Butitdoesn’t.”
Iblinked,unsureofwhattosaytothat,becausehewantedbluntobjectsthrownathishead?WhichmeantClaudehadbeenrightaboutthat.
“AndIalsoknowthatnoneofthemwouldremindmeofcherriesortasteasgoodonmyfingers,”hecontinued,offeringthehalf-filledglass.“Norareanyofthemamysterytome.”
“There’snothingaboutmethatisamystery.”Istaredattheglass,thensnatcheditfromhim.
PrinceThorneeyedme,hisstaresointenseitwashardtostandstill.“Whyareyousoagainstthisarrangement?”HisbrowsknittedasItookadrinkofwhatturnedouttobesomesortofdarkwine.“Pleasedonottellmeyouhavefeelingsforyourbaron.”
ThatIhadn’tbeenexpecting.“AndwhatifIdid?”
Hisjawhardened.“Thenyourfeelingswouldbewastedonamanwhoisclearlynotworthyofthem.”
Thrownbyhisstatement,ittookmeamomenttorespond.“Youdon’tknowtheBaronwellenoughtodecidethat.”
“IdoknowtheonlyreasonhelivesisbecauseyousatinhislapandI’drathernotseeyoucoveredinhisblood.”
Mychestturnedcold.“Becausehespokeofcuttingoffyourarm?Hewasonlykidding—albeitstupidly,buthewasn’tbeingserious.”
“I’mnottalkingaboutthat.”Hetookasip.“Though,Idoagreethatwasstupid.”
“Thenwhat?”
“Hewastouchingyou,”heanswered.“Ididn’tlikeit.”
“What?Areyousayingyouwerejealous?”
“Yes.”
Mylaughshatteredthesilencethatfollowed.“Youcannotbeserious.”
Slowlychurningeyesmetmine.“DoIappearasifIamteasing?”
No,hedidnot.Igapedathim.“Whyintheworldwouldyoubejealous?”
“Idon’tknow.”Hebrushedastrandofhairbackbehindhisear.“Notknowinghasbecomequitecommonplacewhenyou’reconcerned.I’mnotsureifitannoysmeorexcitesme.”
“Well,itconfusesme.”
“Yourreluctanceinthisconfusesme.”
“Truly?”Ashestaredbackatme,Icouldseethathespokethetruth.“Youreallydon’tgetit?Likeitdoesn’tevenoccurtoyouthatdemandingsomethinglikethisfromanotherwouldangerthem?”
“IfyouandIhadnotknownoneanother?IfIdidn’tknowhowmuchyouenjoyedmytouch?Thenyes,Icouldunderstandsomeone’sanger,butthat’snotthecasebetweenus.”
“JustbecauseweknoweachotherandI’veenjoyedyourtouchdoesn’tmeanIdon’twanttobeasked,northatIwouldcontinuetoenjoysuchthings.”
“ButIknowyouwantmytouch,”hecountered.“Justafewminutesago,yourpulseroseinarousal—”
“Ohmygods.”Iloweredmyglasstothetabletopreventmyselffromthrowingit.“Ican’tbelieveI’mevenhavingtoexplainwhatshouldbetaughtatbirth—”
“ButIwasnotborn,”heinterrupted,browsfurrowed.
“Thatshouldn’tmean…”Itrailedoff,staringathim.Mylipspartedaswhathe’dsaidearlierthatdayinmychambersstruckme—thelackofhumanity.Alotofthingsfellunderthat,goingbeyondjustcaringforanother.Beingunderstandingdid.Thoughtful.Considerate.Withouthumanity,therewasjust…“Logic.”
“Logic?”herepeated.
Ishookmyhead.“Deminyensoperateonlogicandnotemotion?”
Heseemedtothinkthatover.“Thatwouldbesomewhataccurate.”
Butlogicwascold,andhewasn’tthat.“Lastnightyouaskedmetojoinyouinthetub.Youdidn’tjustassumethatiswhatIwanted.”
“Iknewthatwaswhatyouwanted,”hesaid,andmyeyesnarrowed.“ButIsensedyournervousness—theskipinyourbreathwaspartuncertaintyandpartarousal.”
“Canwejuststopsaying‘arousal’fortherestofourlives?”
“Why?”Theblueofhiseyeslightened.“Becausethetruthofhowyoufeelaroundmebothersyou?”
“Maybe—oh,Idon’tknow—Idon’tneedyoupointingitouteveryfiveseconds?”
Hischindipped.“Soyoudoacknowledgethatyouarearousedbyme.”
Iopenedmymouth.
“Ihavethisdistinctfeelingyou’regoingtolie,”hesaid,ahintofsmileplayingacrosshislips.“Andclaimthatyouwillnotenjoyyourtimewithme.”
“WhetherornotIwilldoesn’tmatter.Youshouldalwaysask.”
“Why?”
“Whywhat?”
“Whywhenwebothalreadyknowwhatiswanted?”
Blowingoutanaggravatedbreath,Idesperatelyclungtomywaningpatience.“Becauseyoushouldn’tassumethatwillneverchange.Itcan.Itcanchangeatanysecondforvariousreasons.”
“Hmm.”Thesoundhummedfromhimashisgazeflickedoverme.“IsupposethenImustendeavortoensurethatdoesn’tchange.”
Mylipspursed.“Thatwasn’tthepointIwasgettingat.”
“It’snot?”
Isighed,twistingthelacesonthegown.“Ifeellikewe’respeakingtwodifferentlanguages.”
Thathalfgrinappearedashefinishedoffhiswine.“So,na’laa,wouldyouliketojoinmethiseveninganduponmyreturn?”
Iglaredathim.
“What?”Somehowhewascloser,lessthanafootfromme.“I’mdoingasyourequested.I’masking.”
“Andwhyareyouaskingnow?”
“BecauseitisimportanttoyouthatIdoso.”
Surprised,Ifeltmyeyeswidenslightly.“Yeah,well,it’salittletoolateforthatsinceyou’vekidnappedme.”
PrinceThornechuckled.“Youarenotkidnappednorcaptive.Ifyouwishtoleave…”hesaid,liftingahand.Hisfingersclosedovermine.Ilookeddown,momentarilyconsumedbythefactthatourhandsweretouching,andIfelt…Iheardandfeltnothingthatwasn’tmyown.Hestilledmyfingers,drawingmygazebacktohis.“Iwillnotstopyou,Calista.Iamnot…”Aslightfrownappeared.
“You’renotwhat?LikeotherHyhborn?”
Thatpinchofconfusionthathadetchedintohisfeaturesearlierthatday,whenhe’dbeeninmychambers,reappeared.Heinclinedhishead.“WhatareotherHyhbornlike?”
“Isthat…isthataseriousquestion?”
“Itis,”hesaid.“Whatdoyouthinkofmykind?”
Iopenedmymouth,thenwiselyclosedit.
Hestudiedme.“It’sclearyouhavethoughtsonthis.Sharethem.”
Forthethousandthtimeinmylife,Iwishedmyfacedidn’tshowwhatIwasthinking.“I…Idon’tknowanyHyhbornwell.Actually,youaretheonlyHyhbornthatI’vespentanyamountoftimewith,butfromwhatIknow?WhatI’veseen?TheHyhborndon’tseemtoreallycareaboutus,despiteclaimingtobeourprotectors.Imean,theFeastsareaperfectexampleofthis.”
Hedrewhisthumbalongthetopofmyhand.“Whataboutthem?”
“TheFeastshavealwaysseemedmoreacelebrationoftheHyhbornthanofthelowborn.”
“Andwhydoyouthinkthat?”Hegrinnedatmysilence.“Donotbeshynow,na’laa.”
“Stopcallingmethat.”
“ButI’mintriguedtoknowwhatyouthink,andyouarebeingstubborn,whichisso—”
“Yes.Iknow.Fitting.”Isighedheavily.“IfKingEurosandalltheDeminyenswantedtoprovetheircommitmenttobeingourprotectors,whyonlydoitafewdaysoutofayear?Whynotdoiteveryday?It’snotlike—”Istoppedmyselfthen,thinkingthatIprobablyshouldlistentotheadviceI’dgiventoGradyandshutmymouth.“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
“Yes,itdoes.”Histhumbhadstilledalongmyhand.“It’snotlikewhat?”
Ishookmyhead.“It’snotlike…we’reonlystarvingafewdaysayear.Clearly,theHyhbornCourtshaveenoughfoodtoshare.Makingsureasmanymouthsaspossibledon’tgohungrythroughouttheyearwouldbeabetterwayofshowingusthattheHyhbornaretrulyourprotectors.”
“Andwhatdoyouknowaboutstarving?”heaskedquietly.
Histonecaughtmeoffguard.Itwasn’tachallenge,butagenuinequestion,andithadmeansweringhonestly.“I…Igrewupwithoutahome—”
“Youwereanorphan?”Hisvoicehadsharpened.
MyheartturnedoverheavilyasIheldhisstare,waitingforhimtorealizethatwe’dmetbefore,waitingformetoevenunderstandwhymyintuitionwashesitanttotellhimthatwehad.
“Iwasjustoneofmany.Toomanythatnevermakeittoadulthood,”Isaidwhennorealizationcamefromeitherofus.“Iknowwhatit’sliketogotobedandwakeuphungry,dayafterday,nightafternight,whilesomepeoplehavemorefoodthantheycouldeverhopetoconsume.Foodtheyjustthrowaway.”
PrinceThornewassilentforseveralmoments.“I’msorrytohearthat,Calista.”
Uncomfortablewiththesincerityinhisvoiceandthesoundofmyname,IlookedawayasInodded.“Anyway,IcanthinkofbetterwaysfortheKingtoshowhisloveofhispeople,betheyHyhbornorlowborn.”
“YousoundlikeBeylen.”
Mygazesnappedbacktohis,thoughtsimmediatelygoingtowhatClaudehadshared.“Youknowhim?”
“Iknowhehassaidthesameorverysimilarthings,”hesaid,notreallyansweringmyquestion.“YouhaveneverbeentoanyoftheCourts,correct?”
“Nope.Neverhadthehonor.”
Histhumbbegantomoveagain,slidingslowlyoverthetopofmyhand.“Mostwouldnotfindittobeanhonor.”
Mybrowsrose.He’dgiventheimpressionthattherewasviolenceinhisCourt,butwhathewassayingnowfeltdifferent.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“IknowwhattheCourtslooklikefromadistance.Decadentopulencefromtherooftopstothestreets,allglitterandgold,”hesaid.“Butaswithmostthingsthatarebeautifulontheoutside,thereisnothingbutruinandwrathontheinside.”
Ashivercurleditswaydownmyspine.
“Butyouspeakthetruth.TheKingcoulddomore.Allofuscouldandshouldhave.IimaginewewouldnotfacetheseissueswiththeIronKnightsifwe’dgoneaboutthingsdifferently.”
“It’sstrange,”Isaidafteramoment.“Andrather…nice.”
“Whatis?”
“Tobeinagreement.”
PrinceThornelaughedthen.“Icanthinkofotherthingswecanbeinagreementaboutthatarefarbetterthanjustnice.”
“Andthenyouruinedit.”
Anotherlaughrumbledfromhim,andIfeltmylipstwitching.HislaughwasalmostasinfectiousasNaomi’s,andthatcausedmyhearttogiveanunsteadyleap.
Thesoundfaded,though,asdidhissmile.“Idon’tknowhowmuchIamliketheothers,butIknowhowIamnot.Iwillnotmakeyoudowhatyoutrulydonotwanttodo.”
Hereleasedmyhandthen,buthistouchlingered,warmingmyskinasIsteppedback.Doubtfilledme,evenashemadenomove,evenasImadenomove.Iglancedatthedoor,pressingmylipstogether.Ihesitated,searchingforareasontolinger,andIfoundone.“LordBastianmentionedthattheKingwillbedispleased.”Ifacedhim.“Whatfor?”
Asmileappeared,butitwasbrief.“MydecisionregardingArchwood.”
“Idon’tunderstand.”Ifrowned.“You’replanningtodefendArchwood….”Itrailedoffashiswordsfromsupperreturned.We’vecometodeterminewhatcourseofaction…“Unlessthatwasjustanoption.Achoicetodecideifwewereworthsavingor…”Icouldn’tbringmyselftosayit.
“Ornot.”ThePrincehadnotroublesayingit.“DestroyingArchwoodwasanoption.PrimverawouldbeabandonedandnewportsalongtheEasternCanalwouldbeestablished.AndthatiswhattheKingprefers.”CHAPTER26
“Gods,”Irasped,pressingahandtomychest.“Whywouldyou—?Wait.”Anewkindofhorrorrose.“WhywouldtheKingbedispleasedwithyoudecidingnottodestroyArchwood?”
ThePrinceeyedmeforseveralmoments.“Becausedestroyingthecitywouldbeeasier.”
“Easier?”Iwhispered,bumpingintothelegsofacouch.“Killinganddislocatingthousandsofinnocentpeopleiseasier?”
“It’slessofarisktotheHyhbornforces.Veryfewifanywouldbelostin…removingArchwoodaspossibleleverage,”hesaid,armsfoldedacrosshischest.“Ourknightswilldiedefendingthecity.”
Icouldn’tbelievewhatIwashearing,evenifIshouldn’tbesurprised.Itwasn’tlikeIbelievedKingEuroscaredallthatmuchforlowborn,butthiswas…itwasbrutalinhislackofcaring.“So,thelivesoflowbornmeanthatlittletoourking?”
ThePrincesaidnothing.
Abitinglaughburnedmythroatasangerfloodedme.“IsthiswhathappenedtoAstoriathen?Youweresentin,asjudgeandexecutioner?”
“Astoriawassomethingelseentirely,”hesaid,featuressharpening.“Thecitywasalreadylost.”
“Doesthereasonfordestructionmatter?”Iquestioned.
Hewasquietagain.
Iinhaleddeeply.“Howmanypeoplehaveyoukilled?”
“Toomany.”Thebrowninhiseyesdarkenedtoapitchblackandspreadovertherestofthecolors,andIwould’veswornthetemperatureofthechamberhaddropped.“Butjustsoyouknow,neitherInormyknightssackthecitiesthathavefallen.Wedonotliftourweaponsagainstthosepeople.Wedonotkillindiscriminately.Whatdeathshaveoccurredhappenedinspiteofallwehavedonetopreventit.”
“Youmeanthosedeathsoccurredbecausethepeoplewholivedinthesetownsfoughtback?Toprotecttheirhomesandlivelihoods?Doyouexpectthemnotto?”
“Iwouldexpectnothinglessfromthem,”hesaid.
Suddenlycold,Iwrappedmyarmsovermywaist.“Howmanycitieshasourkingdecidedweren’tworththepreciouslivesofHyhborn?”Iasked,thinkingofthesmallvillagesandtownsthathaddisappearedovertheyears.
“Toomany,”herepeatedflatly.“AndfarmorethanthatwouldbelostifIsidedwiththeKingineverysituation.”Hisheadtilted.“What?DoyouthinkIcandisobeytheKing’sorders?Iamaprince,andheistheKing.Choiceislimited,evenforsomeonelikeme.”
Istaredathim,apartofmeunderstandingthathewasjustanothercoginthewheel—albeitaverypowerfulcog.Idrewinashakybreath.“Whatmakesyoudecidewhichcityisworthyourprotectionandwhichoneistobesentencedtodeath?Betteryet,whywouldyousaveArchwoodafterwhatwasdonetoyou?”
Amuscleflexedalonghisjawashelookedaway.“You.”
“What?”
“There’snooneanswerforwhywhenitcomestootherplaces,butforhere?Itwasyou.Yourbravery.Ifiguredthatifyouwerethatbrave,thensurelytherewereotherslikeyou.”
“Othersthatwouldfightback?”
“Thatisanotherquestionyoualreadyknowtheanswerto.”Theblackfadedfromhiseyesastheblueandgreenhuesreappeared.“Inaway,I’mgladthatIwaspoisoned.IfIhadn’tbeen,Iwouldn’thavefoundyou.”
Butyoufoundmebefore.Thosewordswhisperedalongmytonguebutdidn’tmakeitpastmylips.Swallowingwhatmyintuitionwouldn’tallowmetospeak,Ilookedtothewindow.Inthedistance,Isawtheglowingsōls.
“Doyoufinallythinkofmeasamonster?”
Iclosedmyeyes.
“Youshould,”hesaidsoftly.“Thebloodthatisonmyhandswillneverwashoff.Iwouldn’tevenattempttodoso.”
Afaintshudderworkeditswaythroughme,theheavinessofhiswordsspeakingtheguiltandmaybeeventhepainhecarried.Shoulditbeonlyhishandsthatborethatstain?OrtheKing’s?Becausehewasright.Choicewaslimited.Everyoneansweredtosomeone,eventheKing.Itwassaidheansweredtothegods,butthePrincestillhadachoice.“WhatwouldhappeniftheKingwasn’tjustdispleasedwithyourdecisionbutdemandedthatyoudestroythecityanyway?Andyourefused?”
“War,”heanswered.“ThekindthatwouldmakewhatisbrewingintheWestlandsseemlikenothingmorethanaskirmishtobeforgotten.”
Mybreathcaught.“You’retalkingabouttheGreatWar,”Iwhispered.
Henodded,andamomentpassed.“DoyouknowwhattherealmwaslikebeforetheGreatWar?”
“Notreally.”
“Mostdon’t.”PrinceThornereturnedtothecredenzaandpouredhimselfanotherdrink.“Wouldyoulikeanother?”
Ishookmyhead.
Hereplacedthetopper.“BythetimetherealmwasstableenoughaftertheGreatWarforanyonetobeginchroniclingthehistories,allwhocouldrememberwhatitwaslikehadlongsincepassed,takingwiththemthememoriesofthousandsandthousandsofyearsofcivilization.Itwasdecidedthatitwasbestallofitwasforgotten.”
“Wereyou…aliveduringthattime?”
“No.Iwascreatedshortlyafter,withtheknowledgeofwhathadcometopass.”Hewenttothewindow,theanglesofhisfacetenseashepeeredout.“Inourlanguage,theGreatWarwascalledtheRevelations.”
Achillslippeddownmyspine.
“Hyhbornhavealwaysbeenaround,inthebackground,watchingandteaching.Protectingnotjustmanbutthelandsitself,”hesaid.“Wewereknownasmanythingsthroughouthistory,worshippedasgodsatonepoint,calledthefairfolkoftheforests—nymphsandmagicalbeingsfromanotherrealm—foratime.”Helaughedquietly.“Othersbelievedustobeelementals—spiritsthatembodiednature.Somebelievedustobeangels,servantsofonegod,whileotherssawusasdemons—bothwritteninscripturesbymortalswhobarelyunderstoodthevisionsandpremonitionsthattheyhad.”
Airslowlyleakedfrommypartedlips.DidhespeakofvisionssimilartothoseIhad?
“IsupposethefirstoftheDeminyenswereallofthosethingsindifferentways.Eachnamegivenfitinsomeway.”Hetookadrink.“Eitherway,theDeminyenswereancient,Calista.Asoldastherealmitself.Theywereherewhenthefirstmortalwasgivenlife,andIimaginewewillbeherelongafterthelastpasses.”
AnothershivercurleditswaydownmyspineasImovedtothecouchandsatontheedge.
“Timeisunrelenting,though,andevenDeminyensarenotimmunetoitseffects.”PrinceThorneeyedmeashedrank.“AndwhileinthebeginningtheDeminyensinteractedwithmortals,therecameatimewhenthatwasnotsomethingthatcouldcontinue.Deminyensmovedmoreintotheroleofwatcher,buttheybegantolosetheirconnectiontothosetheyprotected.ThewisestoftheDeminyens—hisnamewasMycheil—sawthedangersinthat.Hewasalreadyseeingitinothers.Howtimewaschangingthem,makingthemcolder,lessempatheticandhumane.Accidentsbegantohappen.”
“Whatdoyoumeanbyaccidents?”
“Deaths.”Hislipstwistedinawrygrin.“Thecausesvaried.SometimesitwassimplyfrightfromseeingaDeminyenthattookalifeofamortal.OthertimesitwasduetotheDeminyensattemptingtostopamortalfromdoingsomethingthatwouldeitherbringharmtothemanyortothelands,andatthattime,strikingamortal…itwasunheardof.”
“Well,that’sdefinitelychanged,”Imuttered.
“Yes,ithas.”Hefinishedoffhisdrink,placingitonthecredenza.“Mycheilknewthatitwastimeforhisbrethrentostepbackfrommankind,torestinhopesthatwhentheyreawakened,they’dberenewed.So,heorderedthemtogotoground,tosleep,andtheydid.Forcenturies,becomingnothingmorethanforgottenmythsandlegendstomostandunknownancestorsofothers.”
Ipickedupasoft,plushpillowandcradledittomychest.“What…whathappened?”
PrinceThornedidn’tanswerforalongmoment.“Timecontinued.Theworldbeforethisone?Theworldthatfell?Itwassomuchmoreadvanced.Buildingsthatstretchedastallasmountains.Foodwasrarelyhunted,butraisedorengineered.Citiesthatwereconnectedbyroadsandbridgesthatspannedmiles.Streetsthatwerecloggedwithpoweredvehiclesinsteadofcarriages,andsteelcagesthattooktotheair,transportingpeopleacrosstheseas.Theworldwasnotlikethis.”
Whathewassayingsoundedimplausibleandimpossibletoevenfathom,butHyhborn…theycouldn’tlie.
“Thosegreatbuildingsreplacedthetreesanddestroyedentireforests,themachinerychokedtheair,andeaseoflifepushedcreaturesallacrosstheworldintothebrinkofextinctionorbeyond.Allofitcameatacost.Theworldwasdying,andmortalswereeitherincapableofchangingtheirwaysordidn’twantto.Thereasonsreallydon’tmatter,becauseallthatdestructionawoketheHyhborn.Thoseancientstriedtowarnthepeople,buttoofewhadlistened,andtoofewofthereawakenedDeminyenshadreturnedwitharenewedconnectionwithman.Toomanybegantoseethemasascourgeuponthisearth.Aplaguethatneededtobeculled,andthat’swhattheydid.OverhalfoftheDeminyensturnedonman,believingthattheyshouldbestrippedoftheirfreedom,convinceditwastheonlywaytosavethemandtheworld,andasothersattemptedtodefendtherightsofman—that’swhenthewarstarted.ItwasbetweenHyhborn.Theirfightingshooktheearthuntilthebuildingsfell,whippedthewind,sendingfirethroughcities,andraisedtheoceans,swallowing…swallowingentirecontinents.Mortalswerejustcaughtinthecrossfire.”
“Continents?”Iwhispered.
“Thereusedtobeseven—largeswathsoflandssurroundedbyvastbodiesofwater,”hesaid.“Therearenolongerseven.”
Mygods.Isqueezedthepillowtighter.
“Mortalsweren’tcompletelyinnocentofwhatoccurred.Afterall,theiractions,theirselfishnessandwillfulignorance,arewhatwoketheHyhborn,butnoneofthemdeservedtofacesuchwrath,suchruin.”Helookedatme.“TheGreatWardidn’tjustendlives.Itreshapedtheworldcompletely.”
Itriedtoprocessallofthat,butIdidn’tthinkitwassomethingIevercould.“ThereareDeminyensnowwhowereapartofthatworld,right?”
“Afew.Thereweresteeplossesonbothsides.”
“TheKing?”
PrinceThornefacedme.“Hewasalivethen.”
“Andwhatsidewasheon?”Iasked,halfafraid.
“Both?ManyoftheDeminyenswhosurvivedwerethosewhoexistedsomewhereinthemiddle.Theybelievedthatmortalsneededtobeprotectedbutcouldnotbetrustedtorulethelands.Thatleftaloneorgivenanyrealpower,theywouldrepeathistory.”
SometimesIthoughtthatwelowborncouldn’tbetrustedtocarryapitcherofwaterwithoutspillingit,buttosaywewouldrepeathistorywasunfairwhenthathistorywasunknowntous.“Whatdoyouthink?”
“I’mnotsure.”Awrygrinappeared.“Ittrulyvariesfromdaytoday.”Hiseyesmetmine.“ButwhatIdoknowisthatkindofwarcannotcometopassagain.Mortalswouldnotsurviveit,andeverythingmustbedonetopreventthatfromhappening.”
“So,it’swhatthen?”Irose,droppingthepillowwhereIsat.“Sacrificethefewtosavethemany?IsthatwhatobeyingtheKing’sordersreallymeans?”
“Inthemostsimplifiedterms?Yes.”Hewatchedme.“Thereisareasonwhymostmortalsdonotknowthehistoryoftheirrealm.”
“Becauseiftheydidknow,theywouldfeartheHyhborn?”
Henodded.“Morethanmanyalreadydo.”
Chilled,Iranmyhandsovermyarms.Iwasn’tsosurethatwastheonlyreasonthehistorywaskeptsecret.PerhapstheKingandthosewhoruleddidn’twantustohavethechancetodoandbebetterthanwehaddoneandbeenbefore.“That’salottotakein.”
“Iknow.”
“Isupposeignoranceisbliss,”Imurmured.
“Knowledgerarelymakesthingseasier.”Heinhaleddeeply.“WhatIsharedwithyou?Itisforbiddentodoso.”
Ilookedoverathim.“Thenwhywouldyou?”
“Yetagain,Idon’tknow.”Helaughed.“IthinkIfelttheneedtoexplainwhyI’vedonethethingsthatIhave,becauseitfeels…”Hefrowned.“ItfeelsimportantthatyouunderstandthatI’mnot…”
Thathewasn’tamonster.
Idrewinaraggedbreath.Ididn’tknowwhattothink.Washeamonster?Possibly.HeclaimedtofeelnocompassionandlaidwastetocitiesattheKing’sorders,buthecarriedtheweightoftheKing’sorders.Icouldseethatevennow.
Ididknowthathewasneitherbadnorgood.NorwasI,andIdidn’tneedmyintuitiontoconfirmanyofthatortoknowhesavedthosehecouldandmournedthosehecouldn’t.
“Ifyouwishtoleave,Calista,Iwillnotstopyou.Iwouldn’tevenblameyou,”PrinceThornesaid,drawingmygazetohim.“ThatIpromise.”
Nodding,Ibackedupandturnedfromhim,becausethatwas…thatwaswhatIthoughtIneededtodo.Icrossedthespace,thefeelofhisstareburningintomyback.Ireachedthedoor,wrappingmyfingersaroundthehandle.Itturnedinmygrasp.Thedoorcrackedopen.MyheartbegantopoundasIstaredatthethinopening.Iwasfrozen,atwarwithmyself,becauseI…
Ididn’twanttoleave.
DespitethefactthatIshould,anddespitewhatI’dlearned,Iwantedtostay,andIknewwhatitmeantifIdid—whatIwasagreeingto.Thekindofcompanyhewanteddidn’tinvolvemeteachinghimtheintricaciesofconsentorcontinuingtoargueaboutonlythegodsknewwhat.Hewantedme.Mybody.Iwantedhim.Hisbody.
Whycouldn’tIhavethat?
Therewasnoreason,excepta…akeensenseofnervousness,becausestayinginexplicablyfeltlikemore.
Becauseitwasn’tjustpleasureIsoughtifIstayedwithhim.Itwasthecompanionship.Hisseemingunexplainabletrustinme.Thecomplexityofwhoandwhathewas.ItwasalsothequietIfoundwithhim.
Closingthedoor,IturnedtoseehimstandingwhereI’dlefthim.Ourgazeslocked,andIthoughtIsawahintofsurpriseinhisfeatures.
Slowly,heextendedhishand.Mychestfelttootightandtoolooseatthesametime.Ididn’tfeelthecoolfloorbeneathmyfeetasIwalkedforward.HiseyesneverleftmineasIliftedmytremblinghandandplaceditintohis.Thecontactofmypalmagainsthiswasashocktothesenses,andashisfingersthreadedthroughmine,myintuitionwassilent,butsomehowIknewthatnothingwouldeverbethesameafterthismoment,aftertonight.CHAPTER27
Therewasagoodchancethatitwasjustmyoveractiveimaginationguidingmythoughts,fillinginthegapsmyintuitionwassilenton,butIcouldn’tshakethefeelingthatthisonechoicewasthestartofeverythingchangingasPrinceThorneturned.
Withoutsayingaword,heledmeintothebedchamber.MyheartwasstillpoundingasIglancedfromthedoorwaytothebathingchamberandthenthebed.Thenervousenergyrampedupinme,amixtureofanticipationandthe…theunknown.IthadbeensolongsinceI’dbeenwithanyone.
AndI’dneverbeenwithanyonelikehim.
PrinceThornestoppedatthesideofthebedandturnedtome.Hewasstillsilentashecuppedmycheek,thecolorsofhisirisesswirling.Couldhetellwhymypulsehammerednow?Idraggedmylowerlipbetweenmyteeth.
Holdingmygaze,hedrewthetipsofhisfingersdownmythroat,tomyshoulder.Heturnedmesomybackwastohim.“Whatwasitlikeforyou?Growingup?”
“I…Idon’tknow.”Thebarelytheretouchhadleftawakeofshivers.
“Yes,youdo.”Hebrushedasidetheheavylengthofhairovermyshoulder.“Tellme.”
Istaredahead.“Whydoyouwanttoknow?”
“Ijustdo.”
“It’snotthatinteresting.”
“Idoubtthat,”hesaid.“Tellmewhatitwaslike,na’laa.”
“Itwas…”Mybreathcaughtashisfingersfoundtherowoftinyhooksalongthebackofmydress.Abedsidelampclickedon,startlingme.Hisabilitytodosuchthingswasn’tsomethingIthoughtIcouldevergetusedto.“Itwashard.”
Hewasquietforamoment.“Whendidyoubecomeanorphan?”
“WhenIwasborn?”Ilaughed.“Orshortlythereafter,Isuppose.Idon’tknowwhathappenedtomyparents—iftheyhadbecomesickorsimplycouldn’tcareforme—andI…Iusedtothinkaboutthatalot.Likewhydidtheygivemeup?Didtheyhaveachoice?”
“Youdon’twonderthatanymore?”heasked,thedresslooseningasheslowlyworkedtheclasps.
Ishookmyhead.“There’snopointinit.Doingsowoulddriveonemad,soIdecidedthattheyjustdidn’thaveachoice.”
“That’slikelythetruthnomatterthescenario,”hecommented,andInodded.“Howdidyousurvive?”
“Bydoingwhateverwasnecessary,”Isaid,andthenquicklyadded,“Iwasn’talone.Ihadafriend.Wesurvivedtogether.”
“Andthisfriend?Itmadesurvivingeasier?”
Ithoughtthatoverasthebacksofhisfingersbrushedovertheskinofmylowerback.“Itdidmakeiteasier,but…”
“But?”
“Butitalsomadeitharder,”Iwhispered.“Becauseitwasn’tjustyourownbackyou’relookingoutfor,youknow?It’ssomeoneelse’stoo—someoneyouworryabouteverytimeyoupartways,lookingforfoodormoneyorshelter?Somanythingscanhappenonthestreets.Everyoneis…”Istoppedmyself,shiftinguncomfortablyfromfoottofoot.
“Everyoneiswhat?”
Ilookedovermyshoulderathim.Thelowlightcastshadowsinthehollowsofhischeeks.“Doyoureallywanttoknowthis?Becauseyoudon’thavetopretendtobeinterestedforustodowhateverthisis.”
Hestareddownatme,eyeshiddenbeneathhislashes.“I’mnotpretending,”hesaid.“AndIwasn’tpretendingatdinnereither.”
Iraisedabrow.“Youweretrulyinterestedinthedifferenttypesofsedum?”Ilaughed.“Nooneisinterestedinsedum.”
“Butyouare.”
“Yeah,well,I’measilyentertained.”
PrinceThornechuckled.“ThatisanotherthingIdoubt,”hesaid.“Everyonewaswhat,na’laa?”
Nibblingonmylowerlip,Igavealittleshakeofmyhead.“Everyoneisapotentialenemy.Otherkids,evenonesyousharedspacewithandtrusted.Thepersonwhogaveyoubreadonedaycancallthemagistratesonyouthenextandaccuseyouofstealing.Thetoo-friendlygentlemandownthestreet?Well,thatfriendlinesscomeswithacost.”Ishruggedashisfingersstilledalongthelastofthehooks.“So,you’renotjustlookingoutforyourself,butyou’renotalone.Youdohavesomeoneelsewatchingoutforyoutoo.”
Hewasquietforamoment.“Youmakeitsoundlikeitwasnothing.”
Idid?“Itjustwaswhatitwas.”
Therewasanothershortgapofsilence.“YouarebraverthanIevenrealized.”
Facewarming,Iforcedoutalaugh.“That’snottrue.Ispentmyentirelifescared.Istill—”Idraggedinadeepbreath.“Idon’tthinkIwasorambrave.Iwaslikelyjustdesperatetosurvive.”
“Beingafraiddoesn’tlessenone’sbravery,”hesaid,finishingthelastofthebuttons.“Nordoesdesperation.Ifanything,itstrengthensthebravery.”
“Maybe,”Imurmured,clearingmythroat.“Iwouldaskwhatitwaslikeforyou,butsinceyouwereneverachild…”Itrailedoff,frowning.“That’sareallyweirdthingtosayoutloud.”
ThePrincehuffedoutalaugh,hisfingerspressinglightlyagainstmyskin,partingthesidesofthegownashedrewthemupmyback.Thesleevesofthegownslippedalittlefartherdownmyarm,stoppingjustabovemyelbows.
“Whatwasitlike?”Iasked,mycuriositygettingthebestofme.“Tobecreated?”
“It’shardtoexplainandlikelyimpossibletounderstand.”Hishandsgrazedmyupperback,sendinganotherrippleoftightshiversthroughme.“Butit’slike…wakingup,openingyoureyes,andknowingeverything.”
Iblinked.“Everything?Likeinaninstant?”Iglancedbackathim,buthisheadwasturnedinsuchawaythatIcouldn’tseehisexpression.“Youknoweverything?”
“Yes,butittakesawhiletounderstandwhatyouknowandhowitallappliestotheworldaroundyou—theworldyou’veyettoenter.”Hisfingerstracedthelineofmyshoulderblades.“Itcantakeyearstofullyunderstand.”
Itriedtofathomwhatitwouldbelike,towakeupwiththeknowledgeI’dgainedoverthecourseofalifetimeinamatterofminutes.Hewasright.Icouldn’tunderstand.“Thatsounds…intense.”
“Verymuchso.”
Iheldstillashecontinuedtoexplorethelengthofmyback,enjoyinghiswarmtouch.“Andwhenyouwerecreated,youlookedlikeyoudonow?”
“Notexactly.”Hisfingerstraileddownmyspine.“WhenIcameintoconsciousness,Iwasdeepunderground.”
Igasped.“Youwereburiedalive?”
“No,na’laa.”Hedrewhishandsbackupmyspine.“Iwascreatedfromtheearth,likeallDeminyensare,andwhenwecomeintoourconsciousness,wearenotyetfully…formed.”
“Notfullyformed?”Mygazefellonhissheathedsword.“I’mgoingtoneedmoredetailsonthat.”
“Ittakesawhileforourbodiestodevelopintowhatyourecognizenow,andthingscangowrongintheprocessofcreation,”heexplained.“Wearebutaconsciousnessatfirst,thenovertime,ourbonesareforgedfromtherockdeepinthegroundasourfleshiscarvedfromstone.”Hisfingersskimmedthesidesofmyribs.“Allthewhile,therootsoftheWychwoodskeepusfed,creatingourorgansandfillingourveins.Theprocesscantakeyearswhilewelistentothelifearoundandaboveus.”
Mymouthwaslikelyhangingopen.Itriedtowrapmyheadaroundallthatandgaveupbecausetherewasnoway.“Yearsbeneaththeground?Iwouldgoinsane.”
“Ofcourseyouwould.Youaremortal,”hestatedsimply.“Wearenot.”
“ButIdon’tunderstand—Imean,youbleedblood.Notsap.”
“AsdotheWychwoods.”
Recallingtherumors,mylipcurled.“I’dheardthattheWychwoodsbled,butI…”
“Youdidn’tbelieveit?”
“Ifigureditwasjustredsappeoplesaw,butIguessInowunderstandwhytheWychwoodsaresosacred.”Igaveashakylaugh.“Youknow,thenightinthegardenswhenyousaidyouwereapartofeverythingaroundus,Ididn’tthinkyoumeantliterally.”
“Mostwouldnot.”Hisfingersglidedalongthecurveofmywaist.
Ithoughtaboutwhathe’dsharedwithmeaboutthepastworld.“DidthosewholivedbeforetheGreatWarknowabouttheWychwoods?”
“Iftheydid,itwasforgotten,buttherewould’vebeensignsuponenteringthewoodsthattheytreadedonsacredground.Warningsthathadtohavebeenignored.ItwasthedestructionoftheWychwoodsthatwokethefirsts.”
Inaway,itwashardnottobeangrywithourancestorswhenitseemedlikethey’ddugtheirowngravesalmostwillingly.“ThereareHyhbornthatareborn,right?”Iasked.“I’mnottalkingaboutthecaelestias.”
“ThechildrenofDeminyensarebornandtheyagejustasacaelestiaormortal,butperhapsslower.”
“That’swhatIthought.”Ipaused.“Doyouhavechildren?”
“No.”
Ididn’tknowwhyIwasrelievedtohearthat,butIwas.“I’dheardthatDeminyenscanactuallychoosewhentohaveachild.Likebothpartieshavetowantthatforachildtobecreated.Isthattrue?”
“Itis.”
“Mustbenice,”Imurmured.
“Andyou?”Hishandsslippedupmybackagain.“Haveyouhadchildren?”
“Gods,no.”
PrinceThornelaughed.“Itakeityouaren’tfondofchildren?”
“It’snotthat.It’sjustwhatkindof…”Istoppedmyself.Grady’swordsresurfaced.WhywouldIwanttobringachildintothisworld?Thatwasadamngoodquestionformost,butforme?Evenmoreso.HowcouldIeventouchmychild?
“Iunderstand,”hesaidquietly.
Iopenedmymouth,butclosedit,thinkingthatmaybehedidunderstandthatIwouldn’tbeabletogiveachildthelifetheydeserved.ThatIfearedthatIwouldenduprepeatinghistory.Ididn’twanttodothattoachild.Icouldn’t.Buttherewasnowayhecouldknowhowtrulydifficultitwouldbeforme.
Iclearedmythroat.“Anyway,yousaidthatthingscangowrongduringthecreation?”
“Iftheprocessisdisturbed,thecreationisinterrupted.”Heslidhishandsdownmyarms,catchingthesleevesofmygown.ThebreathItooksnaggedasthesilkymaterialslippedfrommyarmsandfrommyhips,poolingatmyfeet.“WhatisunearthedisevenlessmortalthanaDeminyen.”
Achillhitmyexposedflesh.“You’retalkingabouttheoneswhodon’tlooklikeus?Likethenix?”
“Inaway,”hesaid,hispalmsgrazingmyribsoncemore,chasingawaythecoldness.“Thenixareawakenedearlyonpurpose.”
MymindwentbacktothelasttimeIwasinthischamber.“Isthatwhatyoumeantwhenyoutalkedaboutnottrustingthosewhocreatedthenix?”
Hisbreathtouchedthenapeofmyneck,andthenIfelthislipsthere.“Yes.”
Iwantedtoaskhimwhyonewouldattempttodisturbtheprocess,buthishandsmadetheirwaytomyhips.Hisfingersslippedbeneaththethinlaceandhebegantolowerit.
MypulsespedupasIlookedovermyshoulder,seeingonlythetopofhisbowedheadashedrewtheclothdownmylegs,andthenthattoojoinedthegownonthefloor.Hismouthbrushedagainstthecurveofmyass,scatteringmythoughts.Thenhislipsglancedoffthedipofmylowerback,thecenterofmyspine,andthenthenapeofmyneckasheroseoncemore.
“Tellmesomething,na’laa,”hesaid,turningmeinhisarms.“Isthathowyousurvivenow?”
Ilookedup,mygazeimmediatelylockingwithhis.Thebluehaddeepenedtoacolorliketheskyatdusk,seepingintotheotherhues.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Hegatheredmyhair,draggingitbackovermyshoulder.“Doyoustillsurvivebydoingwhateverisnecessary?”
“Yes,”Iwhispered.
Thicklasheslowered,shieldinghiseyes.“Isthatwhyyoudecidedtostaytonight?”
Mystomachskipped.“No.”
“Truly?”
AtremorskateddownmyarmsasIliftedthem,curlingmyfingersalongthesidesofhistunic.Inmychest,myheartpoundedasItuggedhistunicup.Silent,hetookover,removinghisshirt,soIreachedfortheflaponhispants.UnhookingthebuttonsfeltnothinglikethefirsttimeI’ddonethiswithhim.NordiditwhenIdrewthesoft,wornmaterialofhispantsdown.
“Yes,”Iansweredashesteppedoutofhispants.Iplacedthepalmsofmyhandsagainsthisstomach,eyesclosingasIsoakedinthefeelofhissmoothskinbeneathmyhands.Anothertremorwentthroughme.“Truly.”
ThePrincesaidnothingasIranmyhandsoverhischest,thinkingabouthowhisfleshreallywasmadeofstone.Forseveralmoments,Iallowedmyselftogetalittlelostinjusttouchinghim.Thefrictionofhishardskinagainstmymuchsofterhands.Thetightdipsandrisesofhisstomach.Thecordedmuscles.IhadnoideawhatImust’velookedliketohim,butthenoveltyoftouchinganotherwasfartoostrongtoresist.Hedidn’tstopme.Hejuststoodthere,allowingmetoexplore,muchlikeIallowedhimtodothesame,andforthat,Ididn’tthinkhecouldeverunderstandwhathe’dgivenmeasIloweredmyselfontomykneesbeforehim,thestoneofthefloorashardashisskinbutcold.
Iopenedmyeyes,liftingmygazetotherigid,thicklengthjuttingoutfromhiships.“You’rebeautiful,”Iwhispered.
Hisheadtiltedslightly,exposingone…deeper-huedcheektothelamplight.
Mylipsparted.“Areyou…blushing?”
“AmI?”Hesoundedgenuinelyuncertain.
Therewassomethingwhollycharminginthatfaintstaintohischeeks—thatsomeoneaspowerfulandotherworldlyasaDeminyencouldblush.“Yes,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hecorrected.“Idon’tthinkI’veeverblushedbefore.”
“Perhapsyouhaveandnoonehastoldyou.”
“Manywouldn’thavethecouragetodoso,”heremarked,headstraightening.“ButIthinkthisisa…first.”
Itprobablywasn’t,butIlikedtheideaofbeingthefirsttomakethefearedPrinceofVytrusblush.IsmiledasIranmyhandsalonghisthighs,focusingonhislength.Onmyknees,Ihadtostretchtoreachhim,hewassoabsurdlytall.Idraggedmyhandsoverhisskin,feelingthehardcurveofhisassandthentheleanfleshofhishipsoncemore,allthewhilemybloodthrumming.Hissizewasimpressive…andintimidating,andevenifthisweren’tsomethingIhadn’tdoneinawhile,Istillwould’vefeltnervous—excitedbutnervous.
“Iwasthinking,”Isaid,feelingboldandwanton.“Thatsinceyoualreadyhaddessert,itwouldonlybefairthatItoohavesome.”
Hisfingersgrazedmycheekbeforeslippingintomyhair.“Thenhaveit.”
Therewasnohesitation,nouncertaintyorpretense.Iwasonmykneesbeforehim,touchinghim,becauseIwantedtobe,andtherewasnothinginmymindbutmyownthoughts.Myhandsdidn’tshakeasIwrappedmyfingersaroundhim,buthedid.Itwasaslighttremorasmygriptightenedonhim,andIfeltitagainasmybreathteasedtheheadofhiscock.Idrewmyhanduphislength,feelingthoseslightridgesasIglancedupathim.
Airsnaggedinmychest.Therewasafaintgoldenblurtohisshoulders,hisarms.Hisheadwasbowed,hairfallingforwardandagainstthesidesofhisface.Icouldn’tseehiseyes,buthisstarewasintenseandhot.Itfannedthefirealreadysimmeringinmyveins.Thefingersinmyhaircurled.
ItookhiminmymouthandIshudderedatthedeep,rumblingsoundthatcamefromhim.ItookhimasfarasIcould,whichwasn’tallthatfar,butthePrince…Hisansweringgroanandtheshallowflexofhishipstoldmehedidn’tmindatall.Iranmytonguealonghislengthandovertheridgesalongtheunderside,reachingtheindentunderthetipofhiscock.Idrewhimintomymouthagainashe…heseemedtowarmbeneathmyhandandinsidemymouth,andthatheatinvadedmyownsenses.Isuckedontheheadofhiscock,surprisedbythetasteofhim.Itwasn’tsaltylikeI’dexperiencedbefore,but…faintlysweet?Likeadustingofsomethingakintosugar?I’dnevertastedanythinglikeitbefore.Hishandtightenedinmyhair,tuggingonthestrandsasIsuckedharder,mymouthfillingwithmoreofthetasteofhim—mymouthtingledandthatsharpswirlofsensationsmovedthroughoutme,hardeningthetipsofmybreastsandjoiningthemusclescurlingtightandlowinmystomach.Feelingmyselfdampen,Imoanedaroundhim.Thefaint,fierystingalongmyscalpashisentirebodyjerkedonlyheightenedmyarousal.
Ileanedintohim,pressingmybreaststohisthighsasIworkedhimwithmymouthandmyhand.Thethrobagainstmytongueechoedbetweenmythighs,andIwantedtoreachdownandtouchmyself,butIhadn’teverdonethat—hadn’tevertouchedmyselfbeforeanother.Gods,Iwantedtosobadlytheachewasalmostpainfulasmyfingerspressedintothebackofhiscalf.
“Fuck,”hegrowled,hisbodyjerkingagain.
I’dneverreallyenjoyedthisactallthatmuchbefore,butIwasgreedynow.IwasinsatiableasIdrewhimdeeper,revelinginhistaste,inthedeep,gutturalmoansechoingfromhim.Andwhenhishipsstartedtorock,Iwantedhimtomovefaster,harder.Iwantedallsortsof…ofwickedthingsasIopenedmyeyesandlookedupathim,mypulsethunderingandmybodyaching.Isqueezedmythighstogether,shudderingattheflareofdesire.Hisholdonthebackofmyheadfirmed,holdingmeinplaceashemoved.Iwanted—
“Touchyourself.”
Myeyesflewopen.
Hedrewhiscockfrommymouth,andthenguidedmeupontomyfeet.Mylegsshookasheturnedme,sittingmesothatIwasontheedgeofhisbed.Hesteppedin,spreadingmylegswide.Coolairkissedtheheatbetweenmythighs.Hereacheddownbetweenus,takingaholdofoneofmyhands.Hedrewitoverthelengthandtheheadofhiscock,hisfleshwetwithmymouthand…andhim.Thetipsofmyfingersimmediatelywarmedandbegantotingle.
“What…whatisthis?”Iasked,barelyrecognizingmyvoice.Itwasthroaty.Sensual.“Myskinistinglingandyoutaste…”Iswallowed,moaningsoftly.Inthecloudoflust,Irememberedsomethinghe’dsaid.“Yourcome…”
“Isanaphrodisiac,”hefinished.
“Goodgods,”Igasped,eyeswidening.Hehadn’tevencomeyet,anditcouldhavethiskindofeffect?“NowI—”Imoanedasadartofintensedesirepulsedthroughme.“Iunderstandwhypeoplewouldwantitsobadly.”
Hislaughwasdarkandsinful.“Touchyourself,”heordered,foldinghishandalongthebackofmyheadoncemore.“FuckyourfingerswhileIfuckyourmouth.”
Mybodycaughtfireuponhisdemand—uponwordsthatwould’venormallyturnedmeoffbutnowcausedawhimperofpleasuretoescapeme.Eyeslockedwithhis,Ididashedemanded.Ibroughtmyhandtothespacebetweenmythighsashewatched,asheheldcompletelystill,hiscockglisteningbetweenus.Myfingersgrazedmyclit,andmyhipsnearlycameoffthebed.Thetinglingfrommyfingerstransferredtothetautbudofnerves—
“Ohgods,”Icriedoutattheshiverofpleasurethatrippledthroughme,bodyshaking.“Idon’tthinkIcan.”
“Youcan.”Hedrewmyheadclosertohim.“Iwantthosefingersinsideyou.”Hisjawflexed.“Iwanttheminyou.”
Shuddering,Islippedthemthroughthewetnessandtheninsideme.Hedidn’tblink,notonceasIbegantomovemyfingers.Hetoweredoverme,hishandballedtightlyinmyhair.Thetinglingwarmthfollowedtheplungeofmyfingers.
“That’smygirl,”hemurmured.
MypulsethrummedasItookhimintomymouthoncemore,grippinghimwithmyotherhand.IsuckedonhimasIdidwhathe’ddemanded.Myhumofapprovalwaslostinhisgrowlashethrustharder,hismovementsroughening,buttherewasalineofcontrolineachpushofhiships.Hedidn’thurtme,andgods,Iknewhecouldeasilywithhowhardhewas,howstronghewas,buthetookwithouttaking,andItookmoreofthattasteofhimintomymouth,grindingagainstthebedasItouchedmyself.Musclestightenedandspundeepinside.Hecouldn’thearmymoans,butIknewhefeltthemashewatchedmeworkhiscockwithmymouth,workmyselfwithmyownfingers.Thereleasehitmehard,stealingmybreath—
ThePrincepulledoutofmymouth,pushingmeontothebedashesettledbetweenmylegs,trappingmyhandandhiscockbetweenusashebracedhisweightaboveme.Thehandinmyhairtuggedmyheadback.Mygazemethisasheshuddered,hisreleasehotandtinglingagainstmyhand—againstmycore,hisbodyjustasheatedashisfleshseemedtohum.Myeyeswentwideattheriotofsensationsastheedgesofhisbodyglowedjustlikethesōls.ThesoundImadeasIclutchedhisarmwouldsurelyembarrassme,buthislaugh—hisrich,sultrylaughasherockedagainstme—tuggedatmyownlipsaswaveafterwaveofpleasuresweptthroughme.
Anditwenton,secondsintominutes,longafterhe’dstilledagainstme.Thetremorsofpleasurekeptcomingevenashereachedbetweenus,easingmyfingersfromme.Ishookashe…heheldhimselfoverme,brushingthestrandsofdamphairbackfrommyface,touchingmycheek,mypartedlips,hiseyesopenandnotmissingasinglemoment.Hewatchedme,pettedmeasIcameandcameuntilthefinalwaveofpleasurefadedandIwasfinallyreleasedfromthethrall.Istaredathim,eyeshalfopen.
Goodgods,Naomihadn’tbeenwrongabouttheorgasms….
“Stayhere,”thePrincesaid.
Iwasn’tgoinganywhereasheliftedhimselfoffme.Icouldn’tmove,everymuscleseemingtohavelosttheabilitytowork.IthoughtIheardthewaterturnon.MyeyesdriftedshutasIlaythere,thewarmthdisappearingfrombetweenmythighsbeforethetasteofhimfadedfrommytongue.Imight’veactuallydozedoff,becausewhenIblinkedopenmyeyestofindhimstandingaboveme,Ihadafeelingthathe’dbeenthereforsometime.
“Here.”Hebent,pressingonekneeintothebedasheslidahandunderthenapeofmyneckandliftedmyhead.“Drinkthis.”
Iopenedmymouthtothecupheheldatmylips.ItwaswaterandIdrankfiercely,notrealizinguntilthatmomenthowthirstyIwas.HetookthecupawaywhenIfinished,thenpickedupaclothhemust’vebroughtwithhim.Hetookaholdofmyarm,wipingthedampclothovermylimpfingersandthenloweringmyhandtothebed.
“Nexttime—andtherewillbeanexttime,”heswore,draggingtheclothbetweenmylegs.TheblueofhiseyesturnedluminousasImoaned,liftingmyhipsweaklyagainsthistouch.Onesideofhislipscurledup.“You’regoingtocomeonmydick,andyou’regoingtostayrightthereuntilthelastbitofpleasureleavesyou.”Hepaused,headtilting.“Doyouagree?”
Mybrowsliftedathisattemptatasking,andIwould’velaughedifIweren’tsotired.“Yes,YourGrace.”
“Thorne,”hesaidwithanotherlaugh.“AndI’mgladweagree.”
Isnorted.
Ashetossedtheclothaside,IknewIneededtogetupandgetdressed.ThePrincewantedmycompany,butIknewtherewasacertainpartofmycompanyhedesiredthatdidn’tincludemepassedoutinhisbed,despitehisrequestthepreviousnight.Orderingmyselftogetmoving,Istartedtositup.
Ididn’tmakeitveryfar.
PrinceThornereturnedtomyside,andbeforeIknewwhathewasupto,heliftedme.Helaidmedownacrossthecenterofthebed,thensettledinbesideme.Theclickofthelampturningofffollowed.Iblinkedopenmyeyestothedarknessoftheroom—tothechestIfacedandtouched.Heplannedonmestayingthenightwithhim?Sleepingbesidehim?
I’donlyeversleptwithGrady,andthatwasabsolutelynothinglikethis.Ididn’tknowwhattothinkorfeelasIlaythere.Myhearttumbledoveritself,butbeneathmypalm,hischestwasstillexceptfortheshallowriseandfallofhisbreath.Whathadhemeantwhenhesaidhishearthadn’tbeatlikeamortal’sinalongtime?Didithavetodowithhowhewas…created?
“Areyouasleep?”Iwhispered.
Therewassilenceandthen,“Yes.”
Mybrowsknitted.“Areyouansweringmeinyoursleepthen?”
“Yes.”Thearmaroundmywaisttightened.
Iswallowed,myfingerspressingagainsthischest—againstwherehisheartshouldbebutIcouldn’tfeel.“CanIaskyousomething?”
“Youjustdid.”
Mynosewrinkled.“CanIaskyousomethingelse?”
“Yes,na’laa.”
“Don’tcallmethat,”Imuttered.
“You’rebeingespeciallystubbornatthemoment,though.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Whatever.”
Hesighed,butthesoundwasn’tanannoyedone.Itwasalmostasifhewereamused.“What’syourquestion?”
Bitingdownonmylip,Istaredattheshadowyoutlineofhischestbeneathmypalm.“Didyourheartbeatlikeamortal’soncebefore?”
“Yes.”Heyawned.
Icurledafingeragainsthisskin.“Whydoesn’titbeatlikethatnow?”
“BecauseI…”Hishandmovedidlyovermylowerback.“Ilosttheny’chora.”
“Andwhatisthat?”
Hedidn’tanswerforsolongthatIthoughthemighthavefallenasleeponme.“Everything.”
Everything?Iwaitedforhimtoelaborate,buttherewasonlysilence.“Areyoustillawake?”
“No,”cametheresponsewithasoftlaugh.
Thecornersofmylipsrose,butthesmallgrinquicklyfaded.Iswallowed.“WouldyoupreferthatI…thatIreturntomychambers?”
Hisarmtightenedevenmore,pressingmystomachtohis.“IfIpreferredthat,youwouldn’tbeinthebedwithme.”
“Oh.”
Heshifted,somehowmanagingtotuckoneofmylegsbetweenhis.“Na’laa?”
“Yes?”
“Gotosleep.”
“Goodnight,Your…”Iclosedmyeyes,heartfeeling…light.Ithadneverfeltthatwaybefore.“Goodnight,Thorne.”
Hedidn’tanswer,butasIdriftedofftosleep,Ifelthislipsbrushagainstmyforehead,andIthoughtIheardhimwhisper,“Goodnight,Calista.”CHAPTER28
WhenIwoke,thespacebesidemewasempty,butthesoft,woodsyscentclungtothesheetsandtomyskin.Iplacedmyhandonthebed,feelingthewarmthofhisbodyheatthatstilllingered.
Thorne.
Therewasthisvaguememoryofwakinginthegraylightofdawntothetouchofhisfingertipsalongthecurveofmycheek,thebrushofhislipsalongmybrow,andthesoundofhisvoice.“Sleepwell,”he’dwhispered.“I’llreturntoyoursidesoon.”
Iopenedmyeyes,mychest…swelling.Thefeelingwasn’tentirelyunpleasantbutwaswhollyunfamiliar,anditscaredme,becauseitfeltlikeapromiseofsomethingmore.
Bringingmylegsup,Ituckedthemagainstmychest.Therecouldn’tbeapromiseofanythingmore,evenifIwasn’tsureexactlywhattheideaofmoreactuallyentailed.Iknewenough.Morewentbeyondpleasuresharedinthedarkesthoursofnight.Morewentbeyondthephysical.Morewasafuture.
AndnoneofthosethingswerepossiblewithaHyhborn,letaloneaprince.EspeciallythePrinceofVytrus.
ButheclaimedtohavesavedArchwoodbecausehehadfoundme.
Rollingontomyback,Ishookmyhead.Hecouldn’thavebeenseriousaboutthat,nomatterwhathethoughtofmysupposedbravery.
ButHyhborncouldn’tlie.
Smackingmyhandsovermyface,Idraggedthemdown,rubbingattheskin.WhywasIevenlyinginhisbed,thinkingaboutthis?TherewerefarmoreimportantthingsIneededtobefocusedon.Claude’sknowledgeofhowmyabilitiesworked,becauseIdoubtedhehadnorecollectionofspeakingthat.HisrelationtotheCommanderoftheIronKnights.Theimpendingsiege.
Thornewastheleastofmyworries.
Buthewastheprettiestofmyworries.
“Gods,”Igroaned,throwingthesheetoff.Isatupandscootedtotheedgeofthebed,lookingformygown.Notspottingitonthefloor,Iroseandturned,findingthegownfoldedonthechest,wherehisswordshadlainthenightbefore.Ablackrobelayacrossthefootofthebed.Hemust’veleftthatthereforme.
ThatstrangeanddownrightsillyswellingmotionreturnedtomychestasIdonnedtherobe.Itwas…thoughtfulofhim.
I’llreturntoyousoon.
Iglancedaroundthequarters.He…Thornehadsaidhewantedmewithhimuntilhelefttoescorthisarmies.Didheexpectmetowaitaroundforhimallday,inhischambers?
Thatwasnotgoingtohappen.
Tuggingmyhairoutfromtherobe,Ipickedupmygown.Icradledittomychestandhurriedtowardthedoor,findingitlocked.WhenIturnedthelatchandopenedthedoor,InearlyplowedstraightintoGrady.
“Ohmygods.”Gasping,Istumbledback.
Gradycaughtmyarm,steadyingme.“Sorry,”hegrunted.“Iwastryingtopickthelock—beenatitforahalfofanhour.Hemust’vedonesomethingtoittopreventitfromunlockingfromtheoutside.”Hisdarkgazesweptovermyface,andthenheseemedtoseewhatIwaswearingandholding.“Areyouallright?”
“Yes.Ofcourse.”Isteppedaroundhim,closingthedoorbehindme.“Whywereyoutryingtopickthelock?”
“Really?”Hisbrowsflewup.
“Really.”Istarteddownthehall.
Hestaredatmeforamoment.“Doyouevenknowwhattimeitis?It’salmostnoon.”
Surpriseflickeredthroughme.“Really?Inever—”
“Youneversleepthislate,”hefinishedforme.“Ilookedeverywhereforyouthismorning,Lis.Yourchambers,thegardens—IranintoNaomi,whowasalsolookingforyou,”hesaidwhenhesawthelookIgavehim.“Shetoldmeaboutthisarrangement.”
Ugh.
Iheldthegowntighter.“Sheshouldn’thavedonethat.”
“Becauseyouweren’tplanningto?”
“No,becausesheprobablyhadtodealwithyouoverreactingandfreakingout,”Isaid,quietingaswepassedoneofthestaffcarryingaloadoftowels.“AndIwasgoingtotellyou.”
“When?”
“Thismorning.”Ituckedastrandofhairback.
Hisjawwasworkingovertime.“Itgoeswithoutsaying—”
“You’renothappywiththisarrangement.”
“Andneitherareyou,accordingtoNaomi,”heshotback.
Mylipspursed,butIstampeddownonmyannoyance.Naomiwaslikelyjustworried,andI’dclearlygivenhergoodreasontobe.“Iwasn’texactlythrilledwiththearrangement,”Ibegan.“ButThorneandItalkeditout,andI’mokaywithit.”
Gradyhadstoppedwalking.“Thorne?”
“Yes?”Iglancedbackathim.“That’shisname.”
“Andsincewhenareyouonafirst-namebasiswithhim?”hedemanded.
SinceI’ddecidedtostaydespitewhathe’dtoldmelastnight.
Ididn’tsaythat,becauseallofthatwastoohardtoexplainorunderstand.Hell,Iwasn’tsureifIevenunderstood.Iturneddownthehall.“It’sfine,Grady.Really—”
“Ireallywishyou’dstoplyingtome.”
“I’mnot.”Istopped,facinghim.“Iwasn’tthrilledwiththearrangement,becausehehadn’taskedmehowIfelt—whatIwanted—butwetalkeditout.Wecametoan…understanding.”Ithink.“AndI…”Pressingmylipstogether,IshookmyheadasIstartedwalking.“Icantouchhim,Grady.Icantouchhimandnothear,feel,orthinkanythingotherthanmyownthoughtsandfeelings.Iknowyousayyouunderstandallofthat,butthereisnowayyoucantrulyfathomwhatthatmeans.”
“You’reright,”Gradyadmittedafterafewmoments.“Ican’tknowwhatthatmeans.”
Hefellquietashetrailedbehindme,butthatdidn’tlastlong.“Isthattheonlyreason,though?”heasked,voicelow.“Becauseyoucantouchhim?”
“Why?”Ishothimalookovermyshoulder.“Whatotherreasoncoulditbe?”
“Idon’tknow.”Heglancedupattheceilingashefellinstepbesideme.“Doyoulikehim?”
“DoIlikehim?”Ilaughedasmystomachgaveaweirdwiggle.“Whatarewe?”Inudgedhimwithmyelbow.“Sixteen?”
Hesnorted.“Doyou?”
“Idon’tknow.Imean,Ilikehimwellenoughtowanttotouchhim,ifthatiswhatyou’reasking,”Isaid,skinprickling.“Idon’tknowhimwellenoughtolikehimmorethanthat.”
Gradystaredahead.“Yeah,butevenifyoudidknowhim,youcan’tlikehim,Lis.”
“Yeah,Iknow.Youdon’tneedtotellmethat.”
“Justmakingsure,”hemurmured.
Ignoringthesuddenknotinmychest,Isaid,“Shouldn’tyoubeworkingorsomething?”
“Yes,buttheBaronisholedupinhisstudywithHymel.”
Theywerelikelytryingtofigureoutwhereathousandsoldiersweregoingtocamp.Ipushedopenthedoorstomyquarters.“DidNaomitellyouwhytheHyhbornwerehere?”
“Shedid.”Hesatontheedgeofthechair.“Gottoadmit,thatsurprisedme.”
“There’ssomethingelseIlearnedlastnight.”
“IfithasanythingtodowithwhatwentoninthechamberswiththePrince,I’mnotatallinterested.”
“IthasnothingtodowithThor—”IcaughtmyselfwhenGrady’sstarejerkedtowardme.“IthasnothingtodowiththePrince,butKingEuros,”Isaid,andthentoldhimabouthowtheKinghadpreferredthatArchwoodgothewayofAstoria.Ididn’ttellhimaboutthepast—abouttheworldthathadfallen.Thornetrustingmewiththatwasimportant,andknowledgeofthepastfelt…itfeltdangerous.
“Can’tsayI’msurprisedtoheartheKingwouldratherseethecityleveled,”GradysaidwhenIwentquiet.
“Really?”Mybrowsrose.
“Yeah.Wereyousurprisedtohearthat?”
“Alittle,”Isaid.“Imean,there’sahugedifferencebetweentheKingtakinglittleinterestinthewelfareofuslowbornanddecidingthatourhomesandlivelihoodsaren’tworththepossibilityofaHyhbornbeinginjuredordying.”
“Yeah,Idon’tseeadifferencethere.”Heshrugged.“AllHyhborncareaboutisthemselvesattheendoftheday.HalfofthetimeI’msurprisedthattheyhaven’tjustgottenridofusandtakentherealmforthemselves.”
“Gods.”Istaredathim.“That’sdark.Evenforyou.”
Hesnorted.
Ishookmyhead.“There’smore.It’saboutVayneBeylen.”
Curiosityfilledhisface.“I’mallears.”
“Andithastostaywithyourears.”
“Ofcourse.”
Iglancedatthecloseddoor.“ClaudeandVaynearerelated.”
Hisbrowshotup.“What?”
“They’recousins,relatedonClaude’sfather’ssideofthefamily,”Itoldhim.“Beylenisacaelestia.”
“Fuck…”Hedrewthewordout.Heleanedintothechair,drapinganarmovertheback.“Howdidyoulearnthis?”
“Claudetoldme.TheHyhborndon’tknow.”Icrossedmyarms,inhalingdeeplyandimmediatelyregrettingit,becausethedamnrobesmelledof…ofThorne.“ButhimbeingacaelestiaexplainswhytheIronKnightswouldbacktheWestlands.”
“Yeah.”Hedraggedafingeroverhisbrow.“Isuppose.”
Istudiedhim.“I’msorry.”
Helookedup.“Forwhat?”
“IknowyoukindoflookeduptothisBeylen,andhearingthathe’sacaelestiaprobablychangesit.”
“Why?”Hisbrowsknitted.
“Becausecaelestiasaren’tlowborn—”
“TheybasicallyarecomparedtotheHyhborn.Imean,lookatClaude.He’saboutasdangerousasahalf-asleepkitten.”
Iwrinkledmynose.“Youreallydon’tthinkthatchangesthings?Whatheis?HissupportoftheWestlandsHyhborn—aprincesswhowantstobequeen?”
“Look,IknowIsaidallHyhbornarethesameandshit,butIwas…Idon’tknow.Iwastalkingoutofmyass.Beylenandthosewhofollowhimareriskingtheirlives.TheremustbeareasonwhyBeylenwouldsupporther—whythosealreadyfollowingBeylenarealsosupportingher.Shecouldbedifferent.”
Ihuffedoutabreath,shakingmyhead.
“Youthinkyourprinceisdifferent.”
“He’snotmyprince,”Isnapped.“AndIjust…”Isatontheedgeofthechair.“There’ssomethingIfeellikeI’mmissingwithClaudeandeverything,andthatit’simportant.HesaidthatBeylenwasstarbornorsomethinglikethat.Itsoundedfamiliar,butIdon’tgetit.”TherewasalotIdidn’tget,likehowClaudehadsaidthePrinceofVytruscouldprovidemewithwhathecouldnot.Everything.
“Starborn?”Gradymurmured,andIlookedoverathim.Herockedforward.“Wait.I’veheardthatbefore.Heardyousaythat.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked,fiddlingwiththecollaroftherobe.
“ThePrioressofMercy—theoneyouweregivento,”hesaid.“Youtoldmewhenwewereyoungerthatsheusedtosaythatyouwerebornofthestars.”
“Holyshit.”Myhandfelltomylap.“You’reright.”
Hegavemeacheekygrin.“Iknow.Probablyjustaweirdcoincidence.”
“Yeah,”Imurmured,exceptIdidn’tbelieveincoincidences.Neitherdidhe
Starborn.
Iknewthatmeantsomething.
Myintuition,usuallysilentonallthingsdealingwithme,wastellingmethatitdid.
Thatitwasimportant.
ClaudewasstillwithHymel,sospeakingwithhimwasn’tanoptionatthemoment,andsincethiscouldbesomethingonlyacaelestiaknew,theonlyotherpersonIcouldthinkofwhomightknowwhatstarbornmeantwasMaven.
ThatwasifNaomiwasrightabouther,andshewasClaude’sgrandmother,onhisfather’sside.
Thethingwas,I’dhavetogethertotalkor…Iwouldhavetogettheinformationfromheranotherway,withoutherpermission.
Thatdidn’tsitwellwithme,butitalsodidn’tstopme.Iwasahypocriteandfullyawareofit.
Bathedanddressedinthelightweighttunicandleggingsoftenfavoredbythestaff,myhairbraidedbackfrommyface,Icouldstillcatchthatwoodsy,softscentofThorneonme.Atthispoint,Iwasbeginningtothinkitwasmyimagination,becausehowwasthatevenpossible?
IsteppedintothealcoveMaven’schamberdoorwassetin,andknocked.Therewasnoanswer,butafterafewmomentstherounded,woodendoorcrackedopen.
Hesitating,Itookadeepbreathandpushedthedooropenenoughformetogetpast,steppingintothechamber,whichwaslitbydozensofcandlesstackedonshelvesalongthestonewallsandpiledonnearlyeveryflatsurface.Therehadtobeelectricityinthischambertoheatthewater,butMavenseemedtoprefertheambienceofthecandlelight.
Orthecreepiness.
Closingthedoorbehindme,Ialmostmissedher.Shroudedinblack,shewasseatedononeofthemanystools,nearthewardrobe,herheadbowedasshestitchedapieceofgarmentinherlap.Theroomsmelledoflaundrysoapandfaintlyofmothballs.
Throatstrangelydry,Iinchedforward.“Maven?”Iwincedatthehoarsesoundofmyvoice.“Ibroughtbacktheheadpiece.Iforgottodoitlastnight.”
Shejerkedherheadtowardoneoftheshelvesholdingotherelaboratepieces.
Nibblingonmylip,Iwalkedtheheadpiecetotheshelfandfoundanemptyhooktohangitfrom.AnxietysettledinthecenterofmychestasIglancedoverather.Limp,dullgraystrandsofhairfellfromthecowl,shieldingherface.
“I…wantedtoaskyousomething.”Idrapedthechainoverthehookandcarefullyplacedthechainsofrubiesontheshelfbelowit.
Therewasnoresponseashergnarledfingersdrewtheneedleandthreadthroughthethinredgarment.
“AreyouClaude’sgrandmother?”Iasked.
Still,shewassilent.
Istaredatherhunchedshoulders.Liketheothernight,ashiverypressuresettledinbetweenmyshoulderblades.Thetinglingspreadthroughoutmyarmsandseepedintomymuscles,guidingmetowardher.Fingerstwitching,ImadenosoundasIapproachedthewoman,liftingmyhand—
FasterthanIwould’vethoughthercapable,Mavenwheeledaroundonherstool
Igasped,jerkingbackastep.
“Youthinktoforceananswerouttame,girl?”shedemandedinavoiceasthinasparchmentandasbrittleasherbones.“Afterallthistime?”
“I…”Ididn’tknowwhattosayasIdrewmyhandback.
Shelaughed,thesoundmoreofadrywheezethatshookherentirebody.“Youneverspoketomebefore.Neveraskedmeaboutmykinbefore.Whynow?”
“That’snottrue.I’vespokentoyoubefore,whenIfirststartedbeingbroughttoyou,”Itoldher,butthatwasneitherherenorthere.“IsClaudeyourgrandson?”
Thelinesinherfaceweredeepgouges.Watery,shadowedeyesmetmine,buttheywerealertandfullofcuriosity.“What’sitmattertoyou?”
“Canyoujustanswerthequestion?”
Stringysilverhairslippedbackassheliftedherchin.“Or?”
“Or…”Myfingerstingled.“Iwilljustgettheanswerthehardway.”Mystomachtwisted;thehypocrisystilldidn’tsitwellwithme,especiallyaftermylecturetoThorneaboutconsent.Granted,gaininganswersfromMavenwasnothinglikedemandingmytimeandmybody,butitfeltalotlikesplittinghairs.ItfeltalotlikewhatIdideverytimeIusedmyabilitiesforClaude.MaybethatwaswhyIhadsuchaproblemwithThorne’sdemands.AndmaybethatwaswhyIwasabletoacceptthem.Heartthudding,Itookasteptowardher.“Youwon’tbeabletostopme.”
Maven’sansweringlaughwasmoreofacackle.“No,Isupposenot.”Sheroseslowly,shufflingforward,thehemofherblackrobesdraggingunevenlyalongthefloor.“Yeah,he’smygrandson.”
“Onhisfather’sside?”
“Yes.”
Iexhaledroughlyasshelaidthegarmentonanearbytable.Itremindedmeofasplashofbloodinthedarkness.“YouunderstandwhatIcando.”
“Clearly,”sheremarked,amblingbacktothestool.Shesatdownheavily,cheekspuffingwithexertion.
Iignoredthesurprisinglystrongtoneofsarcasm.“Doyouknowwhat‘starborn’means?”
“Whyyouaskingme?”Shepickedupatuftball,stabbingtheneedlethroughit.“Youcould’veaskedtheBaron.”
“Becausehe’sbusy,andIfiguredifyou’reacaelestiathenyoumayknowwhatthatis.”
Mavenshookherhead,tossingthepincushionintoabasketatherfeet.“Andwhywouldyouthinkthat?”
HellifIknewatthispoint.“BecauseI’vehearditbefore,spokenbythePrioressofMercy,andClaudementioneditin…inpassing.”
“Funnygal,youare,”shesaid,snickering.“Knowsomuchandyetknowsolittle.”
Myeyesnarrowed.“Hymelsaidsomethinglikethat.”
“Yeah,well,thatoneknowstoomuch.”
“Whatdo—?”
“Whydon’tyougetmeadrinkoutofthatredbottle?”Sheliftedafrailarm.“There.Onthetablebythedoor.”
Ilookedovermyshoulderandsawit.Icrossedthechamber,pickeduptheglassbottle,andpulledthestopper.Thescentofwhiskeywasstrong,nearlysmackingmeintheface.“Yousureyouwantthis?”
“Wouldn’taskforitifIwasn’t.”
“Okay,”Imurmured,pouringthedeepbrownliquorintoanoldclaycup.Bringingthedrinktoher,Ihopedthatthewhiskeyloosenedhertongueanddidn’tkillher.“Hereyougo.”
“Thanks.”Shewrappedthin,bonyfingersaroundthecup,carefultoavoidmine.Shetookadrink—adeepdrink.Myeyeswidenedassheswallowed,thensmackedherlips.“Keepsmyboneswarm.”
“Uh-huh.”
Herchucklewasn’tverymuchmorethanapuffofair.“Iwaslikeyouonce.Notsomeorphanscrapedoffthestreets,butnothingmuchbetter.Apoorfarmer’sdaughter,oneofthreewithanemptybellybutheartandheadfullofnonsense.”
Mybrowsinchedupatwhatsoundeddistinctlylikeaninsult,butIkeptquiet
“Andjustlikeyou,Iwasmorethanwillingtotradeanythingtonotgotobedhungryeverynight,”shesaid,staringatthecandlesalongthewallasIsatontheedgeofanotherstool.“NottowakeupeverymorningknowingIwasgoingtoendupjustlikemymama,deadbeforesheenteredthefourthdecadeoflife,orlikemypa,mademiserablebythetollofworkingthefields.WhenImetBaronHuntington—RemusHuntington?”HerwizenedfeaturessoftenedasshespokeofClaude’sgrandfather.“Iwasmorethanhappytogivehimwhathewantedinexchangeforbeingkeptfedandsheltered.Comfortable.Hewaskindenough,especiallywhenIgavehimasonhiswifepassedoffasherown.IraisedRenaldthough.Hewasstillmyboy—Claude’sfather.Ialsogavehimadaughter.Namedheraftermymama.Eloise.Raisedhertoo.SomehowIoutlivedthemall.”Shelaughedagain,shoulderssinkingbeforeshetookanotherdrink.“Oldblood.That’smyfamily.Ourbloodisold.That’swhatmypausedtosay.”
Slowly,sheturnedherheadtowardme.“Youknowwhatoldbloodis?”
Ishookmyhead.
“It’sanothernametheyliketocallthecaelestias.Oldblood.MeaningmanyofourancestorscanbetracedallthewaybacktotheGreatWar.Evenbeforethen.Canbetracedallthewaybacktothefirstofthem,thosewhowereoncethestarswatchingoverus.Olderthanthekingwhorulesnow.Asoldastheonewhocamebefore.”
“Firstofthem?”Myintuitionwentsilent,andthattoldmeenough.“TheHyhborn?”
Mavennodded.“TotheDeminyens.Thewatchers.Thehelpers.”
Thorne…hehadcalledtheancientDeminyensthat.Watchers.“Whatdoesthathavetodowithstarborn?”
“Ifyoustopmakingunnecessarycomments,I’llgetthere.”
Iclosedmymouth.
Mavenlaughedhoarsely.“Didyoueverthinkabouthowstrangecaelestiasare?Foronetoevencomeintocreation?WecomefromaDeminyen—nottheiroffspring.Foracaelestiatobeborn,ithastobeoneofthemandalowborn,andain’tthatstrange?”
Iguessedso,butIdidn’twanttospeak.
“Thinkaboutit.”Shelookedoveratme.“Deminyenscanfuckhalfthisrealmandneverhaveachild.”
Agigglecrawledupmythroatuponhearinghercurse,butIwiselyswallowedit.
“Theygottochoosetohaveone.Nowwhywouldtheywanttocreateachildwithalowborn?”
WhenIsaidnothing,shelookedatmepointedly.“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“Maybebecausethey’re…inlove?”
Shecackledsodeepandhard,liquorsloshedovertherimofhercup.Icouldn’tblameher.Itsoundedridiculoustome.“Maybe.Maybeso,buteverycreationhastohavethegroundworklaid,andthat’swhattheDeminyensweredoingbackthen.Layingthegroundworkforthosebornofthestars.”
Ireallyhadnoideawhatshewasramblingabout,butIstayedquietandlistened.
“AndI’mofthemindthatsomeofthemdon’tlikethatgroundwork.Atleastthat’swhatmypaalwayssaid.Youprobablythinkit’sbecausethey’dwanttokeeptheirbloodpure,right?”shesaid,andyes,thatwasexactlywhatIthought.Herthin,bloodlesslipscurled,revealingyellowed,agedteeth.“I’mofthemindtheydon’twantthatbecauseofwhatthatoldblooddoes.Allowsthestarstofall.”
Thebackofmynecktingled.“Starborn?Youtalkingaboutcaelestias?”Iasked,confused.
“No.Notthem.Theyain’tbornfromthestars.”Sheraisedahand,pointingafingeratme.“Thestarsdon’tfalljustforanyone,butthey…”Thatspottedhanddisappearedbackintohersleeveassheliftedhercupwiththeother.“Theyusedtosaythatwhenastarfalls,amortalismadedivine.”
Mybrowsinchedupmyforehead.“Divine?”
“Divinelikemyothergrandbaby,girl.”Sheraisedthecupinmydirectionasifsheweresalutingme.“Divinelikeyou.”
“Me?”Isqueaked.“I’mnotacaelestia—”
“Youain’tnoordinarylowborn,nowareyou?Withseeingthefuture.Withpeeringintothemindsofothers.No,youain’t.Oldblood,”sherepeated.“Onceoneisborn,everyonethatcomesafterhasthatchance.Andtherearemorethanyouthink.”Herstareturnedshrewdasshedrank.“Ain’tnooneeverreallyquestioninghowconjurersgottheirknowledge,theknow-howwhenitcomestoHyhbornparts.Oldblood.”Shelaughedhoarsely.“Ain’tnoonequestioninganything.”
Surpriserolledthroughme.ConjurershaddescendedfromHyhborn?“Ididn’tknow…”Itrailedoff,astrangledsortoflaughleavingme.“Ofcourse,Iwouldn’tknow.”Notifwhatshesaidwastrue.“MyintuitionhasneverbeenmuchhelpwhenitcametoHyhborn.”
“Strange,ain’tit?”
Inoddedslowly.Somanyquestionswhirledabout.
“Strangethatwe’veallforgottenthetruth.”
“Thetruth?”
Mavenstareddownathercup,facehiddenoncemore.“Goodandevilarereal.Theyalwayshavebeen.Yettheweightoftherealmhasalwaysfallenonthoseinbetween,onesneithergoodnorbad.That’swhatmypaalwayssaid.”Sheliftedherdrinkagain.“Buthewasalsoadrunk,so…”
Iblinkedslowly.
“ThereareDeminyensmovingaboutthistown,thesewalls,right?”
“Yes.Aprinceandtwolords.”
“Aprince.”Shehumphed.“Itwasboundtohappen.”
“Whatwas?”
“Thathecame.”Herheadturnedtome.“Forwhatishis.”CHAPTER29
Asharpswirloftingleseruptedalongthebackofmyneck.Thathecameforwhatishis.Myheartthudded.Thatsamefeelingasbeforereturned,settlinginmychest.Rightness.Acceptance.
Ileanedforward,claspingmyknees.“Areyou—”Aburstofnervousenergypoundedthroughme.Mybodymovedwithoutwill,turningonthestool,towardthedoorasecondbeforeitswungopen,slammingintothetablewithenoughforcetorattlethecandles.
Hymelstoodthere,eyesnarrowed.“Whatareyoudoinginhere?”
“Nothing.”Irose,wipingmypalmsonmythighs.“IwasjustreturningtheheadpieceIworelastnight.”
Hymel’sgazeshottoMaven.“Andtodothatyouhadtobesittingdown?”
“Mavenwasabitunsteadyonherfeet,”Iquicklysaid,notsomuchinstinctguidingmetoliebutjustmygeneraldistrustoftheman.“Igothersomethingtodrinkandwasjustmakingsureshewasokay.”
Mavensaidnothingassheliftedhercup,finishingofftheliquorIreallyhopedHymelcouldn’tsmell.
“Shelooksfinetome,”Hymelgrowled.
“Yes.Thankfully.”Iturned,noddingatMaven.Theoldwomangavenoindicationofseeingmeoranyoneelse.Ihesitated,wantingconfirmationofwhatIsuspected,butshewasstaringatthecandles,andHymelwaited.Stampingdownonmyfrustration,Ileftthechamber.
Hymelstalkedoutbehindme,closingthedoor.“Whatwereyouintheretalkingabout?”
“Talking?WithMaven?”Iforcedalaugh.“Weweren’ttalking.”
Hisupperlipcurled.“Iheardsomeonetalking.”
“Youheardmespeakingtomyself,”Ireplied,focusingonhim.“Andwhatwoulditmatterifweweretalking?”
Hymel’sjawclenched.“Itdoesn’t,”hesaid,glancingatthedoorandthenbacktome.“Don’tthinkyou’reneededhere.”
Handsopeningandclosingatmysides,Iturnedstifflyandwalkedoutfromthealcoveandthroughthenarrowservants’corridor.WhenIreachedthedoorstothefoyer,IlookedbackandsawthatHymelnolongerstoodthere.
SincehemostlikelyhadgonebackintoMaven’schamber,therewasnotasingledoubtinmymindthatheknewallofwhatMavenhadshared.
ThreesōlsdancedtogetherabovetherosesasIwalkedthegardensthatevening.Ihadn’tventuredtoofar,abletostillhearthemusicdriftingfromthelawnsofArchwoodManor.
AfterspeakingwithMaven,IhadsearchedforClaude,buthadn’tseenhimuntilthisevening.Therewasnochancetotalktohim.HewasholdingapartythatlikelyrivaledwhattookplaceduringtheFeasts.ThedrivewasfullofjeweledcarriagesandtheGreatChamberteemingwithglitteringaristo.I’dspentonlyafewminutesthere,andknewthatmosthadcometocatchsightofthelordsofVytrus,andofcourse,thePrince.
Ireachedout,runningmyfingersoverthesilkypetalofarose.I’dbeenwronginmyassumptionthatmostofthearistowouldabandonthecityuponhearingoftheimpendingsiege.Noneofthemappearedatallconcernedaboutwhytheywerehere,theirthoughtsconsumedwithcatchingaglimpseoftheHyhbornandmore.
WhichmeantnoneofthoseinattendancehadbeenwiththeHyhbornthatmorningtoprepareforthesiege.Thatwasn’tatallsurprising.Istillbelievedthatmanywouldbegoneoncetherealityofwhatwastocomesettledin.
TheHyhbornweren’tinattendance,andIdidn’tknowifanyofthemwouldeventuallyshow.
Ididn’tevenknowifThornehadreturnedtothemanororhadcometolookformeyet.
Oneofthesōlsdippeddown,nearlybrushingagainstmyarmbeforeitfloateddeeperintotherosesasIheardMaven’swordsechoinmythoughts.Thathecameforwhatishis.Thewarmswirloftinglesrippledacrossthebaseofmyneck,andthatsamefeelingasbeforereturned.Rightness.Acceptance.Ididn’tunderstandit.
Istartedwalking,unsureifwhatIfeltwasfrommyintuitionornot.Havingfeltonlyvaguepremonitionsaboutthembefore,itwashardtoknowwhatfueledthefeeling.ItwasalsohardtobelievewhatMavenhadsaid—hadsuggested.
Ifshe’dspokenthetruth,thenshewassayingthatI…thatIwasacaelestiaandthatwashowI’dgainedmyabilities.Couldthatbeimpossible?No.Ididn’tknowmyparents,letalonemyancestry,butClaudehadnogifts.I’dneverheardofanyhavingabnormalabilities,butbothsheandClaudespokeofBeylenasifheweredifferent.Divine.AsifIweredifferent.Divine.Becausewewere…starborn?
Iglancedupatthestar-sweptsky.Partofmewantedtolaughattheridiculousnessofit.Wouldn’tThornehave,Idon’tknow,sensedthatIwasacaelestia?Wouldn’tClaudehavejusttoldmethis?Whykeepithiddenfromme?Ahorriblethoughtcrossedmymind.Couldhehavekeptithiddenfrommebecausecaelestiaswereautomaticallyacceptedintothearistoclass?Certainopportunitiespresentedthemselves.IcouldseekeducationifthatwaswhatIwanted.Icouldownland.Buyahome.Startabusiness—
“No,”Iwhispered.Claudewouldn’thavekeptthatfrommejusttokeepmebyhisside.Ifitwastrue,andIwasacaelestia,therewouldbeadamngoodreasonwhyClaudewouldn’thavetoldme.
UnlessIwasincrediblynaive,andIwasn’t.Atleast,Ididn’tthinkIwas.
Iwalkedonforseveralminutes,stoppingwhenIfeltthesuddenthickeningoftheair.Thebrief,unnaturalstillnessandthenthesharpcrescendoofhumminginsectsandchatteringnightbirds.Tinybumpsspreadacrossmyarms.Awarenesspresseduponme.
Slowly,Iturned.ThebreathItookwasunsteadyastheswellingmotionreturnedtomychest.
Thornestoodonthewalkway,ahandfuloffeetfromme,dressedintheblacksleevelesstunicandpants.Awarmbreezetoyedwiththeloosestrandsofhishair,tossingthemagainstthecutofhisjaw.Therewerenogoldenglintsofweaponsonhim,atleastthatIcouldsee,buttheirabsencemadehimnolessdangerous.
Andthatdamnurge—theonetorun,toprovokehimintogivingchase—roseinmeagain.Mymusclestensedinpreparation.Itwasawildfeeling.
“I’vebeenlookingforyou,”hesaid,drawingseveralsōlsfromtheairabove.
Claspingmyhandstogether,Iheldmyselfstill.“Wereyou?”
“Ithoughtyou’dbeinmyquartersoryours.”
“YoumeanyouthoughtIwouldbewaitingforyourreturn?”
“Yes,”heansweredwithouthesitation.
“Youshouldn’thave.”Iturnedfromhim,heartpoundingasIforcedmyselftomoveslowly.Tonotrun.Ididn’tlookback,becauseI…Iknewhefollowed.Awarmshivercurleddownmyspine.
“Ithoughtwehadcometoanagreementonthisarrangement,”Thornesaid,soundingasifhewasonlyafoot,ifthat,behindme.
“Hadwe?”
“Wehave,”hesaid.“IrecalltellingyouthatIwouldreturnassoonasIcould.”
“ButIdonotrecallagreeingtosittingaroundandwaitingonyourreturn.”
“Ididn’texpectyoutositandwait.”
Ihalted,andfacedhim.Hewasclose,havingapproachedmeinthatunnervingsilentwayofhis.“Whatdidyouexpectthen?”
Theblueofhiseyeswasluminousashestareddownatme.“Foryounottohidefromme.”
“Iwasn’thiding,YourGrace.”Iliftedmychin.“Iwassimplyenjoyinganeveningstroll.”
Onesideofhislipscurledup.“OrwereyousimplyseeingifIwouldfindyou?”
Iclampedmymouthshut.HadthatbeenwhyI’dcomeouthere?
Hissmiledeepened.
Thathecameforwhatishis.
Pivoting,InibbledonmylowerlipasIbegantowalk,thegownI’dchangedintobeforesupperwhisperingalongthestonepath.“YoumetwiththepeopleofArchwoodtoday?”
“Idid.”Hefellinstepbesideme.
Ikeptmygazetrainedahead.“Didmanyshow?”
“Manybutnotallthatcould,”hetoldme,hisarmbrushingmineaswewalked.“Yourbarondid.”
“What?”SurpriseflickeredthroughmeasIlookedathim.“Hedid?”
Thornechuckled.“Iwasassurprisedasyou.”
Iblinked,focusingahead.“Didhetrain?”
“No,buttherewasn’tmuchinthewayoftrainingtobehadtoday,asRhazneededtodifferentiatethosewhohadskillwithswordorarrowfromthosewhohadnone,”hesaid,andIfounditamusing,theshorteningoftheirnames.Rhaz.Bas.Thor.“Youarelikelynotsurprisedtohearthatmosthavenosuchskill.”
“I’mnot.Beyondtheguards,Idoubtmanyhaveliftedasword,”Isaid.“Theonlyoneswholikelyhaveskillwithabowarethelonghunters,andtheyarelikelyonahunt.Therestworkinthemines.”
“Forthemostpart,itwasonlytheywhoshowedandwereeagertolearn,”hecommented.“Yettheyaren’ttheonlyonescapableofdefendingthecity.”
Iknewhespokeofthearisto.“Iimaginemostofthemhadyettoawakenfromtheireveningpursuitstojoin,”Isaid,stillstuckonthefactthatClaudehadgone.“WhatdidtheBarondo?”
“Hemostlylistenedandwatched,whichismorethanIexpectedfromhim.”
Iglancedathim,stomachdippingwhenoureyeslocked.“He’snotcompletelyirresponsible,youknow?”
“Weshallsee,”hereplied.“ButIbelieveheisbettersuitedforCourtlifethantogovernacity.”
WhatMavenhadsharedwithmeflickeredthroughmythoughts.Itwistedmyfingers,havingthesensethatwhateverIasked,Ihadtodosocarefully.“Isthatwhatmostcaelestiasdo?”
“Some.DependsontheCourtandhowtheytreatcaelestias.SomeHyhborntreatthemasiftheyare…”
“Alowborn?”Ifinishedforhim.
Thornenodded.
“Howso?”
Hedidn’tanswerimmediately.“Theyaretreatedmorelikeservantsthanequals.”
Iexhaledslowly.“AnddoesthatdifferfromyourCourt?I’vealwaysheardthatlowbornwerenotwelcomed.”
“Theyaren’t.”
Myheadcuttowardhim.“AndhereIwasbeginningtothinkthatwhatwassaidaboutyounotlikinglowbornwasanotherfalsenarrative.”
Thornestaredahead.“TheHighlandsarefiercelands,na’laa.DangerousforevenaHyhborntotravelwithoutknowledge.”
Ithoughtaboutthat.IknewthatthelargestportionoftheWychwoodswasintheHighlands.“Arethereanycaelestiasthatlivethere?”
“Thereare.SomeareevenknightsoftheCourt.”
“Oh.”Thatmadesense,sinceIknewthatmanycaelestiaswereintheRoyalregiment.Iworriedmylowerlip,searchingforawaytoaskwhatIwantedtoknowandfindingit.“I’vealwayswonderedsomething.CanyouorotherHyhbornsenseacaelestia?”IaskedasIopenedmysenses,creatingthatcord.Icameintocontactwiththatwhiteshield,andwhenIpresseduponit,itdidnothing.
HenoddedasIseveredtheconnection.“Theiressenceisdifferentthanthatofamortal.”
Well,thatthrewawrenchintowhatMavenclaimed.ThePrincehadrepeatedlyreferredtomeasamortal.
“Thatwasanoddthingtowonderabout,”Thornecommented.
“Iwonderaboutalotofoddthings,”Isaid,whichwastrue.
“Like?”
Ilaughed.“I’drathernotembarrassmyselfbysharingthethingsthatcrossmymind.”
“Well,nowI’mallthemoreinterested.”
Snorting,Isenthimalook.
Therewasapauseaswenearedthewisteriatrees.OnlythendidIrealizehowfarwe’dwalked.“Doyouwonderaboutme?”
Ihad,manytimesovertheyears,andevenmorebetweenthetimehefirstappearedinArchwoodandhisreturn.Stopping,Itrailedafingeroverthelavender-huedblossoms.I’dwonderedallsortsofrandom,irrelevantthings.IhadquestionsthatwerefarlessimportantthanwhatIshouldbethinkingaboutthen.
“Doyouhavefamily?”Iasked,whichwassomethingI’dwondered.“Imean,obviouslynotbybloodbutsomethingsimilar?”
“Deminyensdohavewhatwouldbesimilartofamily—toasibling,”heanswered,liftingahand.Hisfingersfoldedaroundthethickbraidofhairrestingovermyshoulder.“Wearenevercreatedalone.”Heranhisthumbalongthetopofthebraidashedrewhishanddown.“Usuallytherearetwoorthreecreatedatthesametime,sharingthesameearth,thesameWychwood.”
“So,inaway,youdohaveblood…siblings?”
Hisfingersreachedthemiddleofthebraid,whereitcrestedovermybreast.“Inaway.”
“Andyou?Doyouhaveone?Ortwo?”
Inthesoftglowofthesōls,therewasatighteningtohisjaw.“Justonenow.”Hisbrowsknitted.“Abrother.”
“Therewasanother?”
“Asister,”hesaid.“Doyoueverwonderifyouhadsiblings?”
“Iusedto.”
“Butnotanymore?”hesurmised.
“No.”Withouthisfocusonthebraid,Iopenlystudiedthestrikinglinesandanglesofhisfeatures.“Whatdoyoudowhen—”Mybreathcaughtasthebackofhishandbrushedagainstthetipofmybreast.Thebuttery-yellowmuslingownwasnobarriertotheheatofhistouch.
Hislasheslifted.Eyesmorebluethangreenorbrownmetmine.“Youweresaying?”
“Whatdoyoudowhileyou’reathome?”
“Read.”
“What?”Isaidwithashortlaugh.
Thehalfgrinreappeared.“Youseemsurprised.IsitthathardtobelievethatIenjoyreading?”
Ireacheduptobrushhishandaway,butmyfingerscurledaroundhisforearmandremainedthere.Nothoughtsintruded,butIdid…Ifeltsomething.Thewarmwhisperagainstthebackofmyneck.ThesensationI’dfeltearlier.Rightness.Butwasitfromme?
Orhim?
Andwhatdiditevenmean?
“Na’laa?”
Clearingmythroat,Irefocused.“Whatdoyouliketoreadthen?”
“Oldtexts.Journalsofthosewholivedbeforemycreation,”hesaid.“Thingsmostwouldfindboring.”
“Itsoundsinterestingtome.”BeneathmyfingersIcouldfeelthetendonsofhisarmsmovingunderhishardfleshashedrewhisfingersdowntothetailendofmybraid.“I’veonlyeverseenafewhistorytomesinClaude’sstudies.”
“Haveyoureadthem?”
Ishookmyhead,realizingthathewasbeingserious.Afterall,Hyhborncouldn’tlie.WhyIkeptforgettingthatwasbeyondme.“Thepagesappearancient,andI’mtooafraidofaccidentallydamagingthem.”
“Whatelse?”Hishandleftmybraid,grazingmystomachtostopalongthecurveofmywaist,andmyhandfollowedasifitwereattachedtohisarm.Itwasthesilent,simplecontactIcouldn’tletgoof.“Whatelsehaveyouwondered?”
Ifheeverthoughtoftheyounggirlhe’dmetinUnionCity.I’dwonderedthatmanytimes,butthosewordswouldn’tcometomytongue.Instead,IaskedonlywhatI’dstartedtowondertoday.“Ifyoubelievedinoldlegendsandrumors.”
“Like?”Hishandglidedtomyhip.
“Likethe…theoldstoriesofthosestarborn,”Isaid,andhisgazeshottomine.“Mortalsmadedivineorsomethingofthesort?”
Theblotsofbrowninhisirisessuddenlycastshadowsagainstthevibrantblue.“Whathasmadeyouthinkofthat?”
Iliftedashoulder,willingmyhearttoremainslow.“It’sjustsomethingIheardanolderpersontalkingaboutonce.Itallsoundedfantastical,”Iadded.“I’mnotevensureifit’ssomethingreal,somaybeyouhavenoideawhatI’mspeakingof.”
“No,itwasreal.”
Was.
Istayedsilent.
“AndIdidbelieve,”hesaid.
“Whatdoesitevenmeanthough?”Iasked.
“It…itmeansny’seraph,”hesaid.“Andthatiseverything.”
Everything.He’dsaidthatbefore,whenhespokeofany’chora.
“Whatelse?”
Distracted,Ishookmyhead.“Haveyouevercalledanyoneelsena’laa?”
“No.”Ashadowofasmileappeared.“Ihavenot.”
Ourgazeslockedagain,andforsomereason,thatrevelationfeltjustasimportantaslearningthatsomeofwhatMavenhadsaidwastrue.
“I’vewonderedaboutyou,”hesaidinthesilence.“I’mwonderingrightnow.”
“Oh?”
“I’vetoldnomortalthatIhaveabrothernorsharedthatIenjoyreading.”
“Well,I’venevertoldanyoneIwantedtobeabotanist,so…”
“Notevenyourbaron?”
Ishookmyheadno.
“Thatpleasesme.”
“Why?”
“ThatisalsowhatIwonder.Why.WhyIwouldshareanythingwithyou,butyoualreadyknowthat,”hesaid,andthewayhesaiditwasasvaguelyinsultingasitwasbefore.“Eventoday,whenIshouldbefullyfocusedonthosebeforeme,Icaughtmyselfwonderingwhatitisaboutyou.It’sstillincrediblyperplexingandannoying.”
Oookay.Ipulledmyhandfromhisarm.“Well,then,perhapsIshouldleavesoIdon’tcontinuetoaddtothisperplexingannoyance.”
ThePrincechuckled.“It’smorelikeI’maperplexingannoyancetomyself,”hesaid.“Andifyouleft,IwouldhavetofollowandIfeellikethatwouldleadtoanargumentwhentherearefarmoreentertainingthingswecando.”
“Uh-huh.”We’dstartedwalkingagain.
Thegrinthatcrossedhislipsheldaboyishcharmthatmadehimseem…youngandnotsootherworldly,andittuggedatmyheart.Iquicklylookedaway.
“Dancewithme.”
Mybrowsshotupasmyheadcutinhisdirection.ThatIhadn’texpected.“I’veneverdancedbefore.”
Hestopped.“Notonce?”
Ishookmyhead.“So,Idon’tknowhowtodance.”
“Nooneknowshowtodancethefirsttime.Theyjustdance.”Hisgazemetmine.“Icanshowyouthat,Calista.”
Isuckedinaheadybreathfullofthatsoft,woodsyscentofhis.Mynamewasaweapon.Aweakness.Inodded.
Mygazedroppedtohishandasheofferedittome.This…thisfeltsurreal.Myheartwasflippingallovertheplace.Andwasitmyimaginationordidtheviolinfromthelawnseemlouder,closer?Asdidtheguitar?Andwastheresuddenlyamelodyintheair,inthenightbirds’singingandthehummingofsummerinsects?
“AndifIprefernotto?”Iasked,myhandopeningandclosingatmyside.
Asliverofmoonlightcaressedthecurveofhischeekashisheadcocked.“Thenwedon’t,na’laa.”
Achoice.Anotherthatshouldn’tmatterallthatmuch,butitdidandI…IwantedtodanceevenifIweretomakeafoolofmyself.Iliftedmyhand,hopinghedidn’tnoticethefainttremorinit.
Ourpalmsmet.Thecontact—thefeelofhisskinagainstmine—wasstillstartling.Hislongfingersclosedaroundmineashebowedhisheadslightly.
“Honored,”hemurmured.
Anervousgiggleleftme.“IthoughtHyhborncan’tlie.”
“Wecan’t.Ispokenolie.”Thornetuggedgentlyonmyarm,coaxingmecloserashesteppedintome.Suddenly,hishipsbrushedagainstmystomach,mychestagainsthis.Thefleetingcontactwassudden,unexpected,andonlythendidIrealizethiswasn’tthekindofdancingI’dseenthearistodoatthelesswildballstheBaronsometimesheld,wheretherewereatleastseveralinchesbetweentheirbodiesandeachstepwasawell-practiced,measuredone.Thiswasthekindofdancingthearistotookpartinoncethemaskscameout.
Hishipsswayedandthehandonmineurgedmetofollow.Afterafewmoments,Irealizedthatthiskindofdancingwasalotlikemakinglove.NotthatIknewwhatmakinglovefeltlike.Fucking?Entirelydifferentstory,andthisdidn’tfeellikethat.
“Silenceyourthoughts.”
“W-What?”Iglancedup,abletoseeonlythelowerhalfofhisface.
“You’restiff.Usuallythatmeansyourheadisnotwhereyourbodyis,”hesaid.“You’rethinkingtoomuch.Onedoesn’tneedtothinkabouttheirbodytodance.”
“Thenwhatdotheydo?”Iasked,becauseitwashardnottothinkabouthowclosewewere—howtallandbroadhewas,andhowthatmademefeeldainty,andtherewasnothingaboutmethatcouldbedescribedassuch.Notevenmyhands.Whenheturned,Istumbledovermyownfeetandmaybehis.
“Youjustcloseyoureyes,”hetoldme.“Likeyoudidlastnight,whenyourfingerswerebetweenyourthighsandyourmouthwasonmycock.Justcloseyoureyesandfeel.”
Iwasn’tsurehowbringinguplastnightwasgoingtohelp,becausethesharppulseofdesirethosewordselicitedwascompletelydistracting,butIclosedmyeyes.
“Listentothemusic.Followit,”hecoaxed,hisvoicedeeper.Thicker.“Followme,na’laa.”
Breathshallow,Ididwhatittooktousemyabilities.Isilencedmymind,lettingmyselflistentothemusic—totheebbandflowofviolinandthesoundsofthenightsettlingaroundus,chargingtheair.Therewasarhythm,onethattuggedatmylegsandhips.IfolloweditandIfollowedhim,mybodylooseningwitheachpassingminuteandmystepsbecominglighter.Whenheturnedhisbodythistime,Ididn’tstumble.Ifollowed.Itwaslikefloating,andIimaginedthatIwasoneofthesōlsdancingaboveus—thatwewere.
Anditwasthestrangestfeeling,almostfreeingasIdancedwiththePrince.Imovedwiththetempo,chasingthestringsastheypickedup.Sweatdampenedmyskin—dampenedhis.StrandsofhairthathadescapedthebraidI’dtwisteditintoclungtomyskin.Thesweet-smellingwisteriavinestangledwithusaswemoved,asmybreathcameinquickerpants,eachinhalecausingthetipsofmybreaststograzehischest.Thegownwassothinthatitalwaysfeltasiftherewerenothingbetweenus.Iwisheditwerethesameformyhands,becauseIcouldfeelhischestrisewithshallow,longerbreathsbeneathmine.
Hishandatmyhipglidedacrossmylowerback,leavingawakeofshiversinitspathaswespunbeneaththewisteria.Mypulsequickened,andIdidn’tthinkithadmuchtodowiththedancing.Iletmyneckloosen,myheadtipbackasIopenedmyeyes.Aboveus,thesōlsdanced,mostlyablurofsoftlightaswespunandspun,andsomehowhisthighhadendedupsnugbetweenmine.EachmovementImade,eachonehegave,createdthis…thisdelicate,decadentfriction.
Ifollowedthemusic—followedhimasthetempograduallyslowed.Therealmstoppedspinningandwemovedineachother’sembrace,therhythmricher,thickerandthrobbing,justlikethebloodwasdoinginmyveins.EachbreathItookfeltlikeitwasgettingtrappedinmythroatasmyhipsmovedwiththechurningmusic—movedagainsthim.AndIfeltricher,thickerandthrobbing,achingandswollen.Thearmatmywaisttightened,asdidthehandthatheldmine.Lowinmystomach,musclestwistedandtightenedindesire,andIcouldfeelhimasImoved,athickpartofhimharderthantherestagainstmystomach.
Hischestrumbledagainstmine,andathrobbingdartofpleasurewhippedthroughme.Hisbreathteasedthecurveofmycheekandthenthecornerofmylips.Hestoppedthere,butIdidn’t.Ourbodiesstillmoved,butIwasn’tsureitcouldbeconsidereddancingatthispoint.Iwasgrindingagainsthim,andthehandatmyhipwasencouragingitasawildsenseofabandonmentsweptoverme.Thatprimalurgetorun.Theferalwantforhimtochase.Thatsavageneedforhimtocapture.
Hestilledcompletelyagainstme,onlyhischestrisingandfallingrapidly.Slowly,Iliftedmygazetohis.Burstsofstarlighthadappearedinthepupils.Ididn’tknowifitwasthedancingorthemelodyintheair,ifitwasknowinghecallednooneelsena’laa,orifitwasthatstrangefeelingofrightness—itcould’vebeenallofthosethingsthatemboldenedme.
Islippedawayfromhim,takingatremblingstepback.Hisheadtilted.Tensionpouredintothespacebetweenusandintotheairaroundus.
AndIdidit.
Icavedtothaturge.
Iturnedandran.CHAPTER30
Withmyhandballedintheskirtofmygown,Iranthroughthewisteriavines,heartracingandblood…bloodheating.IranasfastasIcould,dartingtotheleftandthentheright.Hairslippedfreeinthemaddash,tossingacrossmyface,andIdidn’tslow.
NotuntilIfelthimclosinginonme.
Deepwithinthewisterias,Istopped.Panting,Iscannedthesōl-litcanopyofvinesasmygriponmyskirteasedoff.Ididn’tseehim,butIfelthiminthethickeningoftheair,intheelectricchargethatdancedalongmyskin.Iknewhewascloseasmyfingerswenttothedaintylaceofmybodice.Watchingandwaiting,hethepredatorandItheprey.Anticipationswelled.AthrobbingachepulsedbetweenmythighssoacutelyIswayed.Ididn’tunderstandhowIwassoarousedorwhy,butitwaslikeadifferentkindofinstincthadtakenoverthemomentIcavedtothewildurgeanditwasincontrolnow,guidingmefartherbackintotheshadowsofthewisteria.Everysmallsound—everysnapofatwigortousleofvines—heightenedmysenses,mydesire.IalmostfeltasifIwaslosingmymind,becauseIachedasifIhadbeentauntedandteased.IburnedasifIhadtouchedhiscome.Muscleslowinmystomachcurled.Myeyesstartedtodriftshut—
ThePrincehadmadenosound.Hecameatmefrombehind,onearmfoldingaroundmywaist,haulingmebackagainsthischest.Icouldfeelhimbreathingashardasme.Icouldfeelhisarousalpressingagainstmyback.
“ToldyouIwouldcatchyou,”hesaid,hisbreathwarmagainstmycheek.Hisotherarmcamearoundme,thefingerscurlingoverwhereminestillclutchedthebodice.“Didn’tI?”
Iletmyheadfallbackagainsthischest.“OnlybecauseIletyou.”
Hislaughwasallsmokeandsin,teasingmyskin.“Ihopeyouthoughtaboutthisbeforeyouran.WhatwouldhappenwhenIcaughtyou.”
Ishuddered.
“WhatIwoulddotoyou.”Hislipsgrazedmythroatandthenclosedontheskinattheslopeofmyneckandshoulder.Hesuckedhard,wringingasharpcryfromme.“Areyouready?”
Yes.No?IfoundithardtobreatheasItrembled,expectinghimtotakemethen.Todrivemetotheground.Buthewaited.
Pulsepounding,Istaredattheglowingorbsaboveus.Hewaswaiting.Thatsillyswellingmotionreturned,andIignoredit.Theemotionhadnoplacehere.“Yes,”Iwhispered.“I’mready.”
ThesoundhemadewasoneIhadneverheardbefore.Itcamefromdeepwithinhim,atriumphantgrowlof…ofwarning.
Thefingersoverlappingminecurled,catchingthecollarofthebodice.Withonehardtug,mybodyjerkedagainsthis.Stitchesloosenedatmyshouldersasheexposedmybreaststothewarmnightair.Ilookeddownattheturgidpeakofmybreastashishandclosedovertheflesh,asIwrappedmyownfingersaroundhiswrist.Hismouthclosedovertheskinbeneathmyearashedrewtheskirtofmygownup.Humidairswirledaroundmybarelegs,mythighs,thelacyundergarments.Iheldthegauzyskirts,andhishandslippedbelow,ballingintothethinfabricthere.Lustpoundedthroughmeashetorethematerialfreefrommybodywithonequick,brutaljerk.
ThePrincetookmetothegroundthen,ontomyknees,hislargebodycagingminein.ThedampgrasspressedintomypalmasIheldontothewristofthehandhebracedinthesoil.Itwasmaddening—thewayheheldmethereforseveralmoments.Thenheshiftedbehindme.Histhighpartedmine.Ishook.
“You’renotgoingtobeabletotakeallofmelikethis.Notyet.”Hisvoicewasaheatedwhisperagainstmyneck.“Butna’laa?”
“What?”Igaspedatthefeelofthehard,unbelievablyhotlengthofhiscockslidingovermyass.
“You’regoingtowantto.”Agutturalsoundlefthimastheheadofhiscockpressedintotheheat—
Icriedout,hipsjerkingatthefeelofhim,justthecrownofhisarousalpartingmyflesh,asthesoundofhimkickedoffasharp,suddenexplosionofsensation.
“Ohyeah.You’regoingtowantto.”Hishandgrippedmyhip,steadyingme.Mylegsshookasmyhandslippedtorestatophis,andtherewasnothinginmymindbutahazeofred-hotlust.Hislipspressedakisstomywildlybeatingpulse.“Badly.”
Arushofdampheatfloodedme.Heeasedinanotherinch,hiswidth,thoseridges,stretchingme.
“ButI’mnotgoingtoletyou,”heswore.
“W-What?”Istartedtoturnmyhead.
Thornefoldedhisarmovermyhips,sealingmybacktohis,andthenhethrustintome.
Mycrywaslostinhisshout.Burieddeepinme,hedidn’tmove,andIcouldn’tthinkbeyondthefeelofhim.Thepiercing,vibratingheatandhardness.Myentirebodyshook.
Thenhemoved.
ThePrincewithdrew,andthoseridges—ohgods,theydraggedalongthesensitivewalls,catchingthathiddenspotjustashepushedbackinside.AndthesoundImade,itwasawhimperandascreamasheheldmeagainsthim,movinginandoutofmeslowly,steadily.Hewasincompletecontrol,thewayheheldmekeepingmefrommovingmylowerbody—frompushingbackonhimorretreating.AllIcoulddowaskneel,myfingerscurlingbetweenhis,andtakehim.
Andhetookme.
Hispacebecamefaster,harder.Hedroveintome,hischeekpressedtomine,andIsworeIcouldfeelhisstareonmybarebreast,pushedupbythebodice.Tensioncurledandspunandtightened.Hefucked,butIhadneverbeenfuckedlikethis.Myentirebodypulsed,everynerveendingbecomingraw.Icouldfeelthereleasebuilding,spinningeachtimehehitthatspot.Myeyeswerewide,gazefixedonmywhite-knuckledgriponhishand.
“Ohgods,”Igaspedasheplungedintome.Mychestclenched.MycorespasmedandeverythingunraveledasImoaned,“Thorne.”
“Fuck,”hesnarled,slammingintome.Heliftedmykneesslightly,grindingintomeasIcame,asIfelthimswelling,feltthatknotatmyopeningashepumpedintome,andmybodymovedonitsown,wigglingandtryingtobringhimevendeeperintome,aspleasurerolledandrolledthroughme.
“Badgirl,”helaughed,gaspingashisarmtightened,stillingmymovements.
Hewouldn’tallowmetotakehimwherehewasathisthickest,andImight’veactuallyhissed…orgrowled.Iwasn’tsure,becausethepleasurecrestedagain,leavingmequiveringandstillhot,still…stillthrobbing.
Thornepulledoutsuddenly,pressinghiscockagainstthecurveofmyassashefoundhisrelease,asthetensioneruptedinsidemealloveragain.
Releasesthatcouldlastforhours…
“Ohfuck,”Imoaned,thewhirlingsensationbuildinginacrescendooncemore.“I…Ican’t.”
“Youcan.”Hislipsgrazedmyflushedcheekashemovedusdown.“Youwill.”
Thegroundwascoolagainstmychest,hisbodyhotagainstmybackevenashesupportedhisweightonthehandbeneathmine.Thereleasetookmeagain,andhewasn’teveninsidemeanylonger.
“Why…whydidyoupullout?”Igasped.
“Ididn’twantto,”hesaid,holdingmetight.“IthinkIwouldkilltobeinsideyourightnow,butifyouthinkthisisintense?”
Itwas.Ihadneverfeltanythinglikeit.
“ItwouldbeahundredtimesmoreifIstayedinsideyou.”Heeasedusontooursides.“Itwoulddriveyoumad.”
Imighthavealreadybeenalittlemadashestayedwithme,pettingthecurveofmyhip,mythigh,andtheswellofmyass.Hestayedwithmeaseverysmall,delicatemuscleinsidemespasmed,andIheldon,mygriponhishandneverslipping.Hisholdonmineneverwaning.NotevenwhenIfinallywentlimp,exhaustedandsated.Ourhandsremainedsealed.
Andmymindremainedquiet.
“No,”Iprotestedhalfheartedly.
Thornegrinnedfromwherehewasnestledbetweenmythighs.“Yes,”hemurmured,partingmyswollenfleshwithaswipeofhiswickedtongue.
ThelowmoanthatrattledfrommychestwasonlyoneofmanyI’dmadesinceweleftthegardens.
ThePrinceofVytruswasinsatiablewhenitcametogivingpleasure.
Ididn’tremembermuchofourreturntothemanor,butfromthemomentwereachedhisquarters,timehadbecomeasensualblur.We’dbathed—ormoreaccurately,he’dbathedme,washingthedirtandbladesofgrassfrommybodyasI’dwashedawaythebloodfromhisskinoncebefore.Hemademecomethen,withhisfingers,andwhenwemadeittohisbed,ourbodiesstilldamp,he’dstartedaslowexplorationofmybody,kissingapathalongthecurveofmyjaw,downmythroat,andovermybreasts.Histonguehadbeenwickedtheretoo,swirlingovermynipplesjustlikehistonguenowswirledinsideme.
Thornefeasted.
Myfingersballedintothesheetsashistonguedippedinandout.Ihadn’tthoughtI’dhavetheenergyinmetomove,butI’dbeenwrong.Iliftedmyhipstohisthrusts,andhisansweringgrowlofapprovalinflamedme.Afaintgoldenglowedgedhisbareshouldersasheshifted,workingafingerinsideme.Igroaned.
Thicklasheslifted.Eyesabrilliantshadeofbluedottedwithsilverystarsmetandheldmine.“Don’tlookaway,”heordered.“Iwanttoseeyoureyeswhenyoucome.”
Ishuddered,tremblingallover.
“Iwanttoseeyoureyeswhenyoucome,screamingmyname.”Hisfingercurleddeepinsideme.“Understand?”
“Yes,”Ipanted.“YourGrace.”
Henippedatmyflesh,drawingaraggedmoanfromme.Therewasaflashofagrinalonghisdamplipsandthenhismouthclosedovermyclit.Mybackbowedandmyhipsliftedfromthebed.Ididn’tlookaway.Ourgazesremainedlocked,andIdidscreamwhenIcame,hisnamespillingfrommylipsasIquivered.
Iwasbonelessashecrawledupthelengthofmybody,droppingaquickkissonmynavel,atmyribcage,theswellofmybreast.Ashesettledbesideme,hislipspressedagainstmytemple.
“Youokay?”heasked.
“Mmm-hmm,”Imurmured.He’daskedthatwhenwe’dbeeninthegardens,whentheaftershockshadfinallybeguntoease.Thequestionhadcaughtmeoffguardthen.Itstilldidnow.“Areyou?”
Thornechuckled.“Iam.”
Iturnedmyheadtowardhis.OurmouthswerescantinchesapartasIliftedmyhandtohischest.Isplayedmyfingersacrosshischest.“Butyoudidn’t…”
“Idon’thavetofindreleasetofeelpleasure.”Thehandrestingonmystomachglidedup,foldingovertheswellofmybreast.“Themostexquisitekindofpleasureisderivedfrombestowingituponanother.”
“You…youreallyaren’tamortalmanthen,”Isaid.
Helaughed,thesoundlightandcausingmyhearttoskip.“Ifyou’retrulyjustnowrealizingthat,I’mnotsurewhattotellyou.”
Ihuffed,eyesdriftingshut.Thesilencethatfellbetweenusthenwaswarm,companionable,andnothinglikeI’dexperiencedbeforewithanyoneI’dbeenwith.Therewasalwaysthisneedtospeak,tofillthequieteithertostaveofftheinevitableawkwardnessthatoftencameortokeepmymindfromslippinginanother.
ButthePrincewasnothinglikeI’deverexperienced.
“Ileaveinthemorning,bytheway,”Thornesaideventually.
“Iremember.”Apangofuneaseslicedmychest.DidInotwanthimtoleave?Orwasitsomethingelse?“Whenwillyoureturn?”
“Ibelieveitwillonlytakeafewdays.”
Itriedtodecipherthefeelingsinsideme.Shouldn’tIfeelreliefthathe’dbegoneforafewdays?Ididn’t.Therewasjustunease,andmaybealittle…sadness.Ohgods,IrealizeditwaslikelybecauseIwouldmisshim.
Ineededhelp.
“ThenyoushouldbebackintimefortheFeasts,”Isaid.
“Ishouldbe.”
Someofthepleasanthazefadedastherealityofwhatwastocomeresurfaced.“HowlongdoyouthinkitwillbebeforetheWestlandsortheIronKnightsreachArchwood?”
“ThatIcannotanswerforsure,butIsuspectitwillbebeforethemonth’send.”
MystomachhollowedasIdrewthepadsofmyfingersoverthechiseledlinesofhischest.
“Leavewithme.”
“What?”Iblinkedopenmyeyes.
Theblueandgreenofhiseyesswirledintothebrown.“ComewithmewhenIleavetomeetwiththearmies.”
Mybreathsnaggedonthewordyes,butIstoppeditfromescaping.Anticipationswelledattheprospectoftravelingwithhim,ofbeingwithhim,athisside,butthat…thatfeltlikemore.Dangerouslyso.Iswallowed,closingmyeyes.“Idon’tthinkthatwouldbewise.”
“Probablynot,”hesaid,thenfellquietforseveralmoments.“Willyouhavedinnerwithmethen,whenIreturn?”
“You’reactuallyaskingifIwill?”AtiredsmiletuggedatmylipsasIstruggledtoignorethedisappointmentwithmyself—withhimfornotpushingthatIgowithhim,whichwasentirelymessedup.
“Isthatnotwhatyouwantfromme?”
Ishouldn’twantanythingfromhim.“Yes.”
Histhumbsweptoverthepeakofmybreast.“Thenwillyou?”“Yes.”
Thornewasquietforamoment,andthenIfelthislipsagainstmycheek.“Thankyou.”
Atrippingmotionwentthroughmychest.AnyHyhborn,letaloneaprince,expressinggratitudewas,well,unheardof,andIdidn’tknowwhattodowiththatasIlaythere,thePrinceeventuallyslippingintosleep.
ButIstayedawake,myfingersrestingagainsthischest.Ididn’tknowwhyinthosequiet,darkmomentsIthoughtofthepremonitionIhadintheGreatChamberwhenRamseyEllishadcometotheBaronwithnewsoftheWestlands.
He’scoming.
IknewthatpremonitionhadbeenaboutThorne.
Thathecameforwhatishis.
ThatwaswhatMavenhadsaid,andIknewthatwhenThornehadbeenherebefore,hehadbeensearchingforsomething.
Orsomeone.
Alighttouchtomycheekwokeme.IopenedmyeyestothefaintraysofdawnglancingoffthecutofThorne’sjawandthegoldenhiltofthedaggerstrappedtohischest.Itwasmorning,andthatmeant…
“You’releaving?”Iwhispered,voiceheavywithsleep.
Thornenodded.“Ididn’tmeantowakeyou,”hesaid,thicklashesloweredashedrewhisfingersalongmychin.
“It’sokay.”Istartedtositup.
“No,stay.Iliketheideaofyoubeinghere,inthebedI’vesleptin,”hetoldme,hisbrowsfurrowing.Amomentpassed,andthoselasheslifted.Hisgazeslippedovermyface,lingeringonmy…mylips.
ThoughIwasonlyhalfawake,mypulsestartedtopound.Ithoughthelookedatmelikehe…likehewantedtokissme.
Iwantedhimtokissme.
Iwantedtokisshim.
Neitherofusmoved,though.Notforseveralmoments.Thenheloweredhishead.Myeyesdriftedshut.Hislipsdidn’ttouchmine.Theybrushedovermybrow,andforsomereason,thatsweet,chastekiss…itundidme.
“I’llreturntoyouassoonasIcan,”PrinceThornesaid.“Ipromise.”
Eyesremainingclosed,becauseIwasafraidthatiftheyopenedtheywouldstartwatering,Inodded.
“Gobacktosleep,na’laa.”Hetuggedthesheetupovermyarm.Histouchlingeredatmyshoulder.“Tilllater.”
“Tilllater,”Iwhisperedhoarsely.
PrinceThornestood,andthoughhemovedsoquietly,Iknewtheexactmomenthe’dleftthechamber.Iopeneddampeyes.
Doyoulikehim?
ThatwaswhatGradyhadasked.
Gods.
IthoughtIdid.
IfoundClaudeinhisstudythatafternoon,aloneashesatbehindhisdesk.HelookedupasIentered,hissmilealittleoff.
“Doyouhaveamoment?”Iasked.
“Alwaysforyou.”Hefoldedapieceofparchmentandsetitaside.Iglancedattheever-increasingstackofletters.“I’mgladyou’vecomeby.I’vebeenwonderingifthearrangementbetweenyouandthePrincehasfaredwellorifyou’regladforthemomentaryreprieve.”
MycheekswarmedasIthoughtoflastnight.“Surprisinglywell.”
“Icansee,”hechuckled,leaningbackashecrossedonelegovertheother.“So,you’renotsoagainstthisarrangementnow?”
Iliftedashoulder,havingnotcometotalkaboutthePrince.Isatinoneofthechairsbeforehisdesk.“HetoldmethatyouwerewiththepeopleofArchwoodyesterday.”
“Iwas.”Hebrushedalockofdarkhairbackfromhisface,hispalecheeksturningpink.“IthoughtitwouldbewisethatIseewhatisbeingdone.ThatIbeseen.”Heclearedhisthroat.“Iwastherethismorningforalittlebit.”
“Ithinkit’sagoodidea.”Ismiledathim.“Hopefullyitwillinspireotherstotakepart.”
“Hopefully,”hemurmured,loweringahandtothearmofhischair.“Weshallsee,Isuppose.”
Inodded,takingadeepbreath.“IactuallyhadsomethingIwantedtotalktoyouabout.”Itwistedmyfingerstogether,unsureofwhyIwassonervous.Actually,thatwasn’ttrue.IwasworriedIwasgoingtoprovemyselfanaivefooltoday.“It’saboutyourothercousin.”
“Isit?”Heglancedatthecloseddoor.
Iopenedmysenses,lettingthatconnectionforgebetweenus.Isawthegraywall.“Doeshe…doeshehaveabilitieslikeme?”
Hisbrowsknittedashisheadtilted.“Areyoutryingtoreadme,Lis?”
Istiffened.“Canyoutell?”
Helaughedroughly.“OnlybecauseI’veknownyoulongenoughtorecognizewhenyou’rereadingsomeone.Yourstarebecomesratherintenseandyoudon’tblink.”
“Oh.”Isquirmedalittleinmychair.
“Hedoes,”heanswered.
Istoppedfidgeting.Everythingstopped.
“That’showIknewwhatyousaidwhenwefirstmetcouldbetrue.Hehadthesameknackforknowing.Hehadother…knacks.”Hisshouldersrosewithadeepbreath.“Andifyou’rewonderingwhyIdidn’ttellyou,itwasbecausebythetimeImetyou,Vaynewasalreadycommittingactsoftreason.IthoughtthatifItoldyouthattherewasanotherlikeyou,youwouldwanttomeetthem,andmeetinghimwouldendangeryou.”
Iwasstillconnectedtohim,andhisthoughtsreflectedwhathesaid,butheknewIwasinhismind.Hearingthoughtsdidn’tmeanIcouldn’tbefooled.“ThenyouknowwhatI…Iam?”Iwhispered.
Hestaredatme,browfurrowing.“DidthePrincetellyousomething?”
“No.”
“ThenIdon’tunderstand—”
“AmIacaelestia?”Iinterrupted.
Heblinkedrapidly.Amomentpassed.“Idon’tknow.”
“Claude.”Ileanedforward,fingerspressingintothekneesofmytights.“HaveyouknownthiswholetimethatIwasn’treallymortal?”
“Caelestiasaremortaltoo,Lis.Wejusthavestrongerblood.Thatisall,”hesaid.
Exceptcaelestiasweren’ttreatedlikelowborn.“Haveyouknown?”
Heheldmystare,thenlookedaway.“Atfirst,I…Isuspectedthatyouwere.”
AnachepiercedmychestasIsuckedinabreaththatwentnowhere.“Andyounevertoldme?Whywouldn’tyou—”
“BecauseI’mnotsurewhatyouare,”hecutin.“AndIspeakthetruth.Youdon’tbearthemark.”
Ifrowned.“Whatmark?”
“Youreyes.They’rebrown.Abeautifulshadeofbrown,”headdedquickly.“Butallcaelestiashaveeyeslikemine.Somearedifferentinotherways.”Helookedaway.“Butyoudon’tbearthetelltaletraitofacaelestia.”
“Myeyes…”Ithoughtofhowthey’dlookeddifferenttheotherday,aninnerringof…ofblueappearingaroundthepupils.Mythroattightened.ThenightinUnionCity?ThorneandLordSamriel…theyhadbeenlookingattheeyesofthechildrenthere.Mypalmsdampened.
“HasthePrincesensedthatyouwereacaelestia?”Claudeasked.
“No,”Isaid,wipingmypalmsonmyknees.“ThePrincehasalwaysreferredtomeasamortal,but…”
“Butwhat?”
“Buthesaysthere’ssomethingaboutmethathecan’tfigureout,”Isaid,breathingthroughthestinginginmythroat.“Hefeelsasifhemetmebefore.”
“Becausehehas,hasn’the?”
Losingmyconnectionwithhim,Iwentrigid.Evenmyheartstuttered.
“He’stheHyhbornyoumetinUnionCity,isn’the?”Claudedrewhisfingersoverhisbrow.“Theoneyouthoughtwasalord?”
“Yes,”Iwhispered.“Howdidyouknowitwashim?”
“Ididn’ttilltheothernight,atdinner.Itwasthewayhebehavedtowardyou.Thewayhe…”Hiseyessquinted.“Thewayheclaimedyou.”
Thathecameforwhatishis.
“Idon’tunderstand,”Iwhispered.
“NeitherdoI,andImeanthat.Itrulydo.”Hedroppedhishandtothearmofthechair.“Youhaveabilitiessimilartomycousin,butifaprincecannotsensethatyou’reacaelestiaandyoudon’tbearthemark,thentherewasnowayformetoknowforsure.”
Ilookedaway,swallowing.“Youstillcould’vetoldme.”
“Thenwhat?Doyouknowhowacaelestiaisproveniftherearenoparentstomaketheclaim?TheyaretakentotheHyhbornCourts,whereaprinceoranotherDeminyenconfirmstheirlineage,”heexplained.“AndifaDeminyencouldn’tsenseitnow,whatwould’vebeenthelikelihoodofonebeingabletodosothen?IknowIsaidIwasn’tworriedaboutPrinceThornebelievingyoutobeaconjurer,butothers?Itwouldbetoorisky.”
Itriedtoacceptwhathesaid.Hehadapoint,but…“Youdon’thaveabilities.”
Claudelaughedroughly.“No,Idon’t.NeitherdoesHymel.Neitherdomostcaelestias.”
“Thenwhywouldyourcousinhavethem?”
“Oryou?Ifthatiswhatyouare?”HesaidwhatIhadn’t.“Becausemycousinisstarborn.Amortalmadedivine.”
“Andwhatdoesthatmeanexactly?”Idemanded.
“ThatisnotsomethingIcananswer,”hesaid,draggingahandoverhishead
Istood,flashingfromconfusiontoangerandthendisappointment.“Youcan’toryouwon’t?”
“Ican’t,”heinsisted,andseveralmomentspassed.“MaybeIshould’vetoldyouanyway.I’dbelyingifIsaidthatfearforyoursafetywastheonlyreasonIremainedquiet,butyoualreadyknowthat.”
“Ido.”
Claudeflinched,anddamnit,seeingthathurt.Ididn’twantitto,butitdid.“IknowI’mnotagoodmanandthat’salsosomethingyoualreadyknow,”hesaid,anditwasIwhowincedthen.“Somyadvicelikelymeansnothing,butyouneedtoignoreyourintuitionthistime.WhenthePrincereturns,youneedtotellhimthatyou’vemetbefore.Youneedtotellhim.”CHAPTER31
Igotlittlerestthatnight,andIwasn’tsureifitwastheknowledgethatI’dbeenwrongaboutClaudeorifitwasbecauseofThorne’sabsence.Iwasalsouncertainwhichoneofthosethingswasworse—whichonewasleadingtomygeneralsenseofunease.
Andthatuneasefollowedmethroughthemorningandafternoon,asIwalkedthebusyhallsofthemanor.Staffrushedtoandfro,somecradlingvasesfullofbanana-hueddaisiesandstreaming,white-petaledpetuniaswhileotherscarriedtraysofmeatsprovidedbyPrimveraandyettobeprepared.Allwerefartoobusytopaymuchattentiontome.
TheFeastsbegantomorrow.
Thornewouldlikelyreturnthedayafterorthefollowingone.
Istoppedbythebreezeway,thoughtsheavyastheydriftedtoClaude.WhatIfeltwasamixtureofdisappointmentandanger,confusionandalittlebitofheartache.Itriedtounderstandhisposition,andIdid.Mostly.Becausehestillshouldhavetoldmewhathesuspected.Ihadarighttoknow,eveniftherewasnothingtobedonewiththatknowledge.
Butwasn’tIdoingthesamethingwithThorne?Ididn’tunderstandwhymyintuitionstoppedme,butthatdidn’tchangethefactthatourmeetinginUnionCitywaslikelywhyThornefeltlikewe’dmet.Whatitdidn’texplainwashowitalltiedintowhatbothMavenandClaudehadshared.Whyitevenmattered.Myintuitionwasquietexceptforthatunease.
Iturned,spottingGradyenteringthehall.Istartedtowardhim.Istartedtospeak.
“Whateveryouhavetotellmeisgoingtohavetowaitforafew,”hesaid,placinghishandonmylowerback.“There’ssomethingyouneedtosee.”
Curiosityrose,butsodidthatanxiousenergy.Itmademejumpy,chesttootight.
“HymeljustcameoutoftheGreatChamber.”Gradyledmethroughthenarrowhall,tooneofthemanyinteriordoors.Hekepthisvoicelowasweenteredthemainhall,onenowfilledwithvasesoverflowingwiththoseflowersI’dseenearlier,placeduponnumerousmarblepedestals.“Hewasn’talone.”
Iglanceddownthewidehallofthefoyerthatopenedonbothsidestotheoutside,mygazelandingonthepillared,stonedoors.“Whowashewith?”
“You’llsee.”Gradynoddedtowardoneofthewindowsthatlookedoverapartofthecirculardriveleadingtothemanor.
IsawHymelstandingwithhisbacktous,butitwasthosehestoodbelowthatcaughtandheldmyattention.Therewerethreeofthemastridesable-blackhorsesthattoweredovertheshires.Onehadlong,fairhairthatremindedmeofthelordwe’dseeninUnionCity,knottedatthenapeofhisneck,buttheblondwasn’ttheicywhiteofLordSamriel’s.Another’sskinwasawarmclayinthesun,andthethirdwasraven-haired,andthatwaswhospoketoHymel.
ItwascleartheywereHyhborn,butnonethatIknewwhohadarrivedwithThorne.Besides,CommanderRhazielandLordBastianhadleftwithThorne.
“AretheyfromPrimvera?Bringingmorefood?”Iasked.
“That’swhatIthoughtuntilIsawtheonewho’sspeakingtoHymelnow,”Gradysaid,placinghishandonthewindow.“That’sPrinceRainer.”
MyeyeswidenedasIsteppedclosertothewindow,unabletomakeoutmuchofanyoftheirfeatures.
“Whatthehellishedoinghere?”Gradyquestioned.
“Maybeit’sabouttheWestlandsthreat,”Isaid,thoughIneverknewthePrincetohavevisitedArchwoodbefore.“Orabouttheshadowmarket.”
“Yeah.”Gradyangledhisbodytowardme.“ButwhatthehellishedoingtalkingwithHymelaboutthosethingsandnottheactualbaron?”
Thatwasadamngoodquestion.
Hymelhandledquiteabitoftheday-to-dayfunctionalityofArchwood,buttherewasnowaythattheBaronwouldnotbeavailabletospeaktotheHyhborn.
Especiallynotaprince.
TheanxietywasnowadreadIcouldn’tname,butitwaspumpingthroughmyveinsasIhurriedthroughthemazeofhalls,thehemofthepalegraytunicsnappingatmyknees.MythoughtsbouncedbetweenthepossibilitythatClaudeandhisfamilyhaddescendedfromDeminyens—thatIhad—andwhatthatreallymeant.Ifitmeantanything.ButIsetasidewhatI’dlearnedfromMavenasIreachedthegold-adorneddoorsoftheBaron’spersonalapartments.
Somethingwasn’tright.
WhenIknockedandtherewasnoanswer,Itriedthehandle,findingthedoorlocked.Cursing,Ipulledapinholdingtheshorterstrandsbackfrommyhairandknelt.
AwrygrintuggedatmylipsasIgrippedthehandleandworkedthethinedgeofthepinintothekeyhole.OnethingIcouldappreciatefrommylifebeforeArchwoodwasthecertain…skillsI’dacquired.
Takingadeepbreath,IwilledmyhandtobesteadyandgentleasIwiggledthepinleftandthenright.Pickinglockswastrulyanexerciseinpatience,avirtuethatneitherlivingonthestreetsnorinanicehomehadhelpedmedevelop.MustbenicetobeaHyhbornandabletojustwillthedoortounlock.
Orabletosimplykickitin.
IfItriedthat,I’dlikelybreakmyfoot.
Finally,Iheardthesoftsnickoffindingthetumbler.Bitingdownonmylip,IcontinuedtowigglethepinuntilIfeltthemechanismgivealittle.IkeptmyhandsteadyasIturnedcounterclockwise.Thehandleturnedinmypalm.
AbriefsmileofsatisfactiontuggedatmylipsasIshovedthepinbackintothebraidandrose,pushingopenthedoor.
TheprivatequartersoftheBaronwereallwealthandluxury.IrememberedthefirsttimeI’dbeeninthesechambers.Ihadn’tbeenabletostoptouchingeverything.
IthadbeenatleasttwoyearssinceI’denteredClaude’schambers.Maybeevenlonger,anditwasstrangebeinginherenow.Iranahandovertheplushbackofacouch.Fruitsandmeatswereleftout,halfeaten,onapolishedtable.Ceilingfansstirredsilkcurtainsfinerthananyclothingmostlowbornwouldeverown.
“Claude?”Icalledout.
Therewasnoanswer.
Isnatchedwhatappearedtobeanuntouchedsliceoforangeandpoppeditintomymouth.ThesweetandtarttastecourseddownmythroatasIwalkedpastachairoutfittedwiththickvelvetcushions.Istopped,lettingthememoriesofsittinginthatchairandbeingheldbyClaudeashereadmailfromaneighboringbaronengulfme.Thathadbeenahabitofoursforalittlewhile.We’dwakeandhavebreakfastinbed,somethingI’donlyheardofpeopledoingbefore.(Thefirsttimewe’ddoneit,I’dbeensoafraidofgettingcrumbsonthesheets,butClaudemadeafarlargermessthanIcouldeverhopetoandhelaughedwhiledoingso.)Thenhe’dleadmeouttothischair,wherewe’dspendhoursdoingnothingmuch.Irememberedfeeling…safe.Warm.Wanted.
ButIneverfeltlikeIbelonged.LikeIwassupposedtobethere.
Notmuchhadchangedsincethen,buteverythingfeltdifferent.
Aknotlodgedinmychestasmyhandslippedoffthechair.Claudehadalwaysknownthat—knownhowIfelt,evenifIhadn’trealizedit.Heknewashelaughedandsmiled,ashekissedmylipsandmyskin.Heknew.
Andhetriedtochangethat.
Itjustwasn’tinhisheart,andithadn’tbeeninmine.Butifithad?IfClaudehadlovedmeandI’dfeltthesame?WouldIhaveendeduplikeMaven,amistressraisingthechildrenthatanotherwoman,onedeemedsuitablebythearisto,claimedashers?OrwouldClaudehavecontinuedtobucktraditionandmarriedme?
Ididn’tevenknowwhyIwasthinkingaboutanyofthatasIwalkedpastabrightlycoloredtunicleftonthefloor.Inaway,itfeltlikeIwas…Iwasmourningwhatcouldneverbe.
Walkingthroughtheroundedarchway,Iglancedaroundthebed-chamber.Abreezecarriedthefloralandwoodsyscentofthegardeniasfillingthetallvasespositionedalongthewallsofthecircularchamber.
GardeniaswereafavoriteofClaude’s.
Allysonhadbeensmellingalotlikegardenias.
Ifocusedonthebedseatedonaslightlyraisedplatformbeneathopenwindows,atremorhittingmyhands.Isuckedmylowerlipbetweenmyteeth.MystepswerelightasIsteppedontotheplatform.Throughtheripplingfabric,Icouldmakeoutonlylumps.
MyheartbegantopoundasIreachedforward,partingthecurtains.
Thebedwasempty.
Lettingthecurtainsfallintoplace,Isteppedofftheplatformandwenttothebathingchamber.Thattoowasempty,anddidn’tappeartohavebeenusedthatmorning.Ifso,therewould’vebeentowelsscatteredaboutandpuddlesofwater.Claudewasmessierthanme.
Iturnedbacktothebed,thatdreadincreasing.Acoolfingerpressedagainstthenapeofmyneck.Atinglingpressuresettledbetweenmyshoulderblades.
Somethingisn’tright.
Itookastepandithappened.Withoutwarning,myskinprickledallover.Pressuresettledbetweenmyshoulderbladesastheskinbehindmylefteartingled.Claude’schamberfellawayandIsawblood.
Poolsofblood.Riversofitstreamingbetweenstilllimbs,seepingintogoldveining.Barearmswithdeepgouges.Somanyofthem,theirmouthsgapingopeninfrozen,silenthorror.Brocadeandjewel-encrustedmaskstorn,strewnacrossthefloor.Silverandsapphiredrenchedinblood.
Suckinginasharpbreath,Istumbledback,bumpingintothewall.I’d…I’dseendeath.CHAPTER32
Thevisionwarnedofdeath,andthemasks?Theglitteryjewelsandgowns?TheFeasts.Somethingterrible—somethinghorriblewasgoingtohappenduringtheFeasts.Ijerkedforward,thenhalted.
Silverandsapphire.
I’dseenasapphirenecklacedrippingwithblood.
Naomi.
Ispun,racingfromClaude’schambers.AdrenalinecoursedthroughmyveinsasIhurriedalongtheoppositewingofthemanor.Thehallwasquietandtheairstagnant.AfinesheenofsweatdottedmyupperlipasIreachedNaomi’squarters.Irappedmyknucklesonthedoor,hopingshewasthere.Iwaited,shiftingmyweightfromonefoottotheother.Shehadtobe.Itwasstillearly.
“Naomi?”Icalledout,knockinglouder.“It’sme.”
Afterafewmoments,Iheardthesoundoffootsteps.ReliefsweptthroughmeasthedoorcrackedandasleepyNaomiappeared.
“Goodmorning.”Smotheringayawn,shesteppedaside,thedeepblueofhersilkyslipsomehowunwrinkled.OnlyNaomicouldlooksostunninguponwaking.“Orisitgoodafternoon?”
“Afternoon.Sorrytowakeyou.”Isteppedinside,closingthedoorbehindme.“ButIneededtospeakwithyou.”
“It’sokay.Iwasalreadyhalfawake.”Naomituckedherhairbackfromherfaceasshesteppedoverapairofheeledslippersandthick,vibrant-coloredplushcushionsasshewentovertoachaiseandsat.“Butyoudidn’tbringcoffeewithyou,whichisrude.”
“Ididn’teventhinkaboutthat.”Stomachtwistingitselfintoknots,Iglancedatthefuchsiacurtainshunginthedoorwaytoherbedchambers.“Areyoualone?”
“Ihopeso.”Shecurledherlegs,leavingroomforme.
“Good.”Isatbesideher,needingamomenttocollectmythoughts.I’dcometoherwithoutreallyeventhinkingitthrough.Iswallowed.“There’s…there’ssomethingIneedtotalktoyouabout.”
“Withoutcoffee?Oreventea?”Leaningintothearmofthechaise,sheyawnedagain.“I’mnotsurehowmuchyou’reexpectingmetoretain…”Shetrailedoff,eyesnarrowingonme.“Wait.DidthePrincecomeforyouthatnight?Ihaven’tseenyousince,soI’mguessingthatisayes.”
“Yes.But—”
Naomistraightened,allthesleepvanishingfromhergazeinaninstant.“Andwhathappened?Iwantallthedetails.”
“Nothingreallyhappened—okay,thingshappened,”Iaddedwhenhereyesnarrowed.“Ithrewaglassathim.Wesortofargued.Thenheactuallycarriedmetohischambers—”
“I’msorry.Backup.Youthrewaglassathim?”
“Yes.”
Sherubbedathereyes.“Areyouaghost?”
“What?”Ishookmyhead.“No.Hewasn’tangryifthat’swhatyou’regettingat.Heactuallylaughed,thencarriedmetohischambers,wherewecontinuedtoargue…thentalkeditout.”
NaomistaredatmeasifI’dadmittedtobeingagod.“Andthenwhat?”
“Andthenwe…”Squeezingmyeyesshut,Ipressedmyfingerstomytemple.Ithoughtaboutthenightbeforeheleft.“WhatyousaidaboutthekindofpleasureHyhborncangive?It’strue.”
“Iknowit’strue.”Aslowgrinappearedonherlips.“Lis,tellmeallabout—”
“Ihadavision,”Iinterruptedher,andthesmilefadedfromherlips.Isatontheedgeofachair.“Ijusthadthisvisionofblood—lotsofbloodandbodies.”
Naomihadgonestill.Hereyeswerefullofshadowsasshestaredatme.“Isittheni’meresagain?Doyou…doyouknowwhosebodiesyousaw?”Therewasaslighttrembleinherlipsasshesatup,placingherfeetonthefloor.“Doyou?”
Asliceofpanicandfearlancedmychest.“Icouldn’tseewhotheywereorifni’meresareinvolved.Idon’tknowallwhowillbe…willbecaughtupinwhatI’mseeing,butI…Ithinkit’sgoingtohappenduringtheFeasts.Isawmasks,and…”Mygazefollowedherfingers,tothecollarofherrobe,wherethesilverchainshenormallyworewouldbe.Anyonecould’vebeenwearingthatsapphirenecklace,but…“YoushouldleaveArchwood.Idon’twantyouhere.”
“Lis—”
“YouknowIcareaboutyou,right?”Itwistedtowardher.“Andyoucareaboutme.”
“Yes.OfcourseIdo.”
“AndifyouthoughtsomethingbadmighthappenandIcouldbecaughtupinit,youwouldn’tjustwarnme.You’ddosomethingaboutit,”Isaid.“ThedifferenceisthatIknowsomethingbadiscoming,andit’sgoingtohitalotofpeople.Maybeyou’llbefine.Idon’tknow,butIdon’twantyouhere.AtleastfortheFeasts.”
“Youwantmetoleave,butwhataboutyou?”Hervoicedropped.“Grady?Claude?”
“I’mgoingtoaskGradytodothesame,andClaude.”IfIcouldfindhim.
“Andwhataboutyou?”
“I…Ican’t.”
“Why?”shedemanded.
BecauseThorneclaimedthatitwasIwhowouldsaveArchwood,andevenifIcouldn’tbelievethat,Hyhborndidn’tlie.AndIwasn’tevensureifthatwasthereasonIcouldn’tleave.IneededtobeherewhenThornereturned.Iknewthat.
Naomi’slipspressedtogetherasshelookedaway,headshaking.“Ifyoudon’tleave,neitherwillGrady.”
Anothercutoffearslicedthroughme.Ialsoknewthat.Myfingersdugintomyknees.“Ifyoudon’twanttoleaveArchwood,atleastgospendsometimewithyoursister.”Itookadeepbreath.“Andyoureallyshoulddothatbeforeit’stoolate.”
Hergazeswungbacktomine,herskinpaling.“Youtoldmeshewouldrecoverfromthefever.Sheisrecovering.”
“Iknow,but…”
Naomi’schestrosewithaheavybreath.“Butwhat,Lis?”
Ibrieflyclosedmyeyes,hatingmyselfalittleforusinghersisterlikethis.“Butyouonlyaskedifshewouldrecoverfromthefever,andshewill;however,youshouldspendtimewithher.”
“Because?”Herchinliftedasherlipstrembled.
Thebackofmythroatstung.“Youknowwhy.”
Hereyesturnedglassy.“Iwanttohearyousayit.”
“Shewon’tlivetoseetheendoftheFeasts,”Iwhispered.“I’msorry.”
Hereyessqueezedshutandseveralmomentspassed.“So,you’retellingmethisnowtogetmetoleavethemanor?”Herlasheslifted,eyesglimmering.“Youshould’vetoldmethisbefore.”
“Iknow,”Iagreed.“Ireallyamsorry.”
Naomihuffedasshelookedaway.Shepressedherlipstogether,shakingherhead.“Iknow.”
Myheartcrackedalittle.“WillyoudoasIask?”
“Yes.”Whenshefacedme,hereyesweredamp.“Andyouneedtoleavemyquarters.”Sherose,turningfromme.
Istood.“Naomi—”
“Don’t.”Shewhirledtowardme,therobeflutteringaroundherfeet.“YouknewwhatIaskedwhenIcametoyouaboutLaurelin.Iwasn’tjustspeakingofthefever,andyoulied.Icould’vebeenwithhermore—”Shesuckedinasharpbreath,fistingtheskirtofherrobe.“Please.Leave.Ineedtopack.”
Isteppedtowardher,butsheturnedagainandwalkedthroughthecurtains.Istoppedmyself,breathingthroughthesting.Blinkingbacktears,Ileftherchambers,hopingthatshewouldheedme.ThatshewouldleavethemanorandthatwhateverdamageI’ddonetoourfriendshipwouldn’tbeinvain.
“Notgoingtohappen.”GradyleanedagainsttheledgeofthebreezewayIsaton.I’ddrawnhimawayfromthewall,andwasintheprocessofattempting,andfailing,toconvincehimtoleaveArchwood.“Ican’tbelieveyouwouldaskthatofme.Betteryet,Ican’tbelieveyouwouldevenwasteyourtimeaskingmethiswhenyoualreadyknowwhattheanswerisgoingtobe.”
“Ihadtotry.”
“Morelikeyouhadtopissmeoff,”heretorted.“Ifyouwanttoleave,thenwecanhittheroadrightnow,butyouwon’tsinceyou’vegotitinyourheadyouneedtobeherewhenthePrincereturns.”
Ireallyshould’vekeptmyreasonforstayingtomyself.Ithadn’thelpedmatters.“I’mnottryingtoupsetyou.”Awarmbreezecaughtashorterstrandofhairthathadslippedthepins,tossingitacrossmyface.“I’vealreadyupsetNaomitoday.”
Hecrossedhisarms.“Issheleaving?”
Inodded.“Hopefully,butshe’sangry.Shehaseveryrighttobe.Ididn’ttellhereverythingabouthersister.”Ileanedmyheadbackagainstthepillarofthebreezeway.“AndIcan’tfindClaudeanywhere.Haveyouseenhim?”
“No.”
Throughouttheday,I’dtriedtogetmyintuitiontotellmewhereClaudemightbe,totellmeanything,buttherewasnothingbutthosethreewordsrepeating.
Somethingisn’tright.
WorrygnawedatmeasIstaredatthemanorwalls,mythoughtsgoingtoPrinceRainer’svisit.“Don’tyouthinkit’sstrangethatthePrinceofPrimverashowedonlyaftertheothersleft?”
“Ithinkeverythingisfuckingstrangerightnow.”Hesquinted,watchingoneofthestablehandsbrushdownamare.“Especiallythisstuffwithyoupossiblybeingacaelestia.”
ThatwasanotherthingIshould’vekepttomyself,becauseGradyhadlookedatmelikeI’dgrownathirdeye.Hewashavingahardtimewrappinghisheadaroundit,andIcouldn’tfaulthimforthat,butIthoughtofwhatI’dseeninthatmirror.Iwasn’tsosurethatthebriefchangeincolorhadbeenmyimagination.
Ifithadn’t,whatwasit?
Butthatwasn’treallyimportantatthemoment.Thevisionwas.
Iswungmylegsofftheledgeandstood.“I’mgoingtotrytolookforClaudeinhisstudyoncemore,”Itoldhim,brushingoffthebottomofmytunic.“AndifIfindhim,I’mgoingtotrytoconvincehimtocanceltheFeasts.”
“Goodluckwiththat,”Gradyreplied.
“I’llletyouknowifIfindhim,”Itoldhim,hesitating.“Iwishyou—”
“Don’tsayit,Lis.”Hebackedup.“I’mnotgoinganywherewithoutyou.”
Isighed,nodding.Wepartedways,himheadingbacktothewallandmegoinginside.ImademywaytoClaude’sstudy,hopesparkingwhenIsawthatthedoorwasajar.Ihurriedforward,pushingitopen.Icametoacompletestop.
Claudewasn’tinhisstudy.
Hiscousinwas.
Hymel’sheadjerkedupfromwherehesatbehindtheBaron’sdesk,slipsofpaperinhishand.
Somethingisn’tright.
“Whatareyoudoinginhere?”Iblurtedout.
Thesplashofsurprisequicklyfadedfromhisfeatures.“Notthatit’sanyofyourbusiness,butI’mgoingthroughthestackofletters.”Heliftedtheparchmentsheheld.“Whichhappentobenoticesfromdebtors,namelytheRoyalBank.”
MystomachsankasIglancedattheever-growingstack.“Whatdotheywant?”
HelookedatmeasifIhadaskedthesilliestquestion,andIhad.
“Howlateishe?”Iasked.“Anddoeshehavethecointosettlehisdebts?”
“Nottoolate,”Hymelanswered,tossingtheparchmentsontothedesk.“Andthere’senoughcoin.Orwillbe.”Helookedupatme.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
“IwaslookingforClaude,”Isaid,decidingthattheprevalentfinancialissuesweresomethingIwasgoingtohavetostressoverlater.“Ican’tfindhim.”
Hymel’sdarkbrowsrose.“He’snothere.”
Mylipspursed.“Icanseethat.Doyouknowwhereheis?”
“LastIknew,hewasinhisquarters,butI’mnothiskeeper.”
“Clearly,”Imuttered.“He’snotthere.I’vecheckedtwice.”
“Thenhe’sprobablywiththeBowers.”Hymelleanedbackinthechair,lookingmightycomfortablewherehedidn’tbelong.“Andhe’slikelyonabenderwithitbeingthestartoftheFeaststonight—well,atmidnight.”
“Andbecauseofthat,shouldn’thebehereandnotoffsomeplaceelse?”
“Onewouldthinkthat,”Hymelstateddryly.“ButthisisClaudewe’retalkingabout.LastFeasts,hespenthalfofthemhallucinatingwingedcreaturesinsomeabandonedminewiththeBowerbrothers.”
Thatsoundedsobizarreithadtobetrue.“So,there’sachancehewon’tshowforthestart?”
Hymelshrugged.“Possibly.Hehasn’tbefore.”
AndIwouldn’tknowthatsinceIneversawhimduringtheFeasts.
“ConsideringthemoodhewasinwhenIlastsawhim,I’mthinkinghe’llprobablybeseeingwingedbeastsoncemore.”
Mychesttightened.“Whatdoyoumeanabouthismood?”
“He’sbeenmorosesincethemeetingwiththePrinceofVytrus.”Hymelpickedupapaperweightcarvedfromobsidian.“AfterheapparentlyagreedtogiveyoutothePrince.”
Mymouthdroppedopen.“HedidnotgivemetothePrince,”Isaid,andIdoubtedthatwaswhatcausedClaudetobedepressed.He’dbeenrelievedbyit.“AndIsawhimafterthat.Hedidn’tappearbothered.”Atleastnotuntilwe’dstartedtotalk.
“That’snothowIheardit,”Hymelcountered.“ThePrincewantedyou,alowborn,andClaudeagreed.Ithinkhisfragilefeelingswerehurt.”
Ifrowned,concentratingonhim.Thestringconnectedus,butIsawthegrayishshieldobscuringhisintentions—hisfuture.
Hymeltossedtheobsidianballandcaughtit.“IstheresomethingyouneededfromClaude?”
Pullingmysensesback,IcrossedmyarmsandmadenoattempttoapproachHymel.He’dknowwhatIwasuptothemomentIattemptedtotouchhim.“Ihadavision.”
Onesideofhislipskickedup.“Dotell.”
“Ofbloodanddeath.Ithink—no,IknowsomethingbadisgoingtohappenattheFeasts,”Itoldhim.“IthinkClaudeshouldcancelthem—”
“CanceltheFeasts?”Hymellaughed.“TheWestlandsarmiescoulddescendonustomorrow,andtheFeastswillnotbecanceled.”
Mybrowsknitted.“Hymel,Iknowyouliketoactlikemyvisionsaren’treal,butyouknowbetter.Thecelebrationscouldatleastbecanceledhere.”
“Notgoingtohappen.”Hetossedtheobsidianballoncemore.
FrustrationburnedasIstaredathim,andsuddenlythatshiveratthenapeofmyneckandbetweenmyshoulderbladescame.Isawnothing,butIheardthreewordswhispered.Istiffened.“ThePrinceofPrimvera,”Isaid,andHymel’sgazeflashedtomine.Hecaughttheball.“Whatwashedoingheretoday?”
“Sharinggoodnews.”Hymelplacedtheobsidianonthestackofparchment.“PrinceRainerwillbejoiningusfortheFeasts.”CHAPTER33
IstoodattheedgeoftheGreatChamberthefollowingnight,staringatthedais.Theelaborateruby-encrustedchairsatvacant.
Claudewasstillmissing.
Thornehadyettoreturn.
Fingerspressingintotheskirtofmyplainwhitegown,Ifeltthehiltoftheluneadaggersheathedtomythigh.Ididn’tknowwhyI’dgrabbeditwhenIleftmychambers.Ithadbeenanunconsciousact,butitmademefeelalittlebetter.
Iscannedthecrushofvividlydressedandmaskedaristo.LuckilyIhadn’tseenNaomihereorinthesolarium,whereGradywasstationed.NordidIseeHymel
Somethingisn’tright.
Mygazesettledonafair-hairedman,drawntohimsimplybecausehewasoneofthefullyunmaskedinattendance,butevenifhehadbeenmasked,Iwould’veknownimmediatelywhathewas.Hewastallerthanmostinthechamber,thesilkofhisshirtandthecutofhisdarkbreechesmorefinelytailoredthantheclothesofthewealthiestofaristoinattendance.Hisfeatureswereperfectlysymmetrical,givinghimanunrealbeauty.Hewasalord.
AnditwasoneofthetwoI’dseenwithPrinceRaineryesterday.TheonewhoremindedmeofLordSamriel.ThisHyhborninthecrowdlookedsomuchlikehim.TherewereotherHyhborn,moreinthesolariumthaninhere,butIhadn’tseenPrinceRainer.
TheLordangledhishead,hisstarecollidingwithmine.Isuckedinastartledbreath.
Hesmiled.
Swallowing,Itookastepbackashewassurroundedbyfawningaristo.UnmaskedasIwas,Istoodout.MyheartflutteredlikeatrappedbirdasIhastilyturnedandlefttheGreatChamber,enteringthewidehallandslippingoutoneofthedoorsleadingtotheoutside.
Iwasjumpy,partlyduetothelackofsleepandthecreepingdreadthathadhauntedmethroughouttheday.Itriedseveraltimesthroughoutthedaytogetmyintuitiontowork—totellmeanythingaboutwhereClaudecouldbe.I’devendrawnmyselfabathandheldmyselfunderwatersothatnosoundordistractioncouldfindme,buttherewassilence.Nothing.
Andthatcouldmeanoneofonlytwothings—HyhbornweresomehowinvolvedinwhateverClaudewasdoingorhisseemingdisappearanceinvolvedmesomehow.
ClaudecouldverywellbeoffwiththeBowers,but…
Somethingisn’tright.
Aristohadspilledoutintothelawn,wherelaughterjoinedthemusic.Istrodepastthemaskedrevelers,stomachknotting.Iwastired,eachstepdogged,buttheanxiousenergyinvadingmyveinsmadeitimpossibleformetoattemptanyrest.
Usingthenarrowstonebridge,Icrossedthesmallstreamandstoppedtolookbackatthemanor.Torchlightlitthosedancingandloungingonthelawn.
TheywerecompletelyunawareoftheloomingviolenceofeventheWestlandsarmiesbutgods,IwishedIwereoneofthem,blissfullyignorantandlosingmyselfinthepotentdrinkandrichfood,inthesensualpresenceoftheHyhborn.
Ifoughttheurgetoracebackandwarnthem,buthowcouldIexplain?Mostwouldn’tbelieveme.OthersmightthinkIwasaconjurer,andwithHyhbornlordsinattendance,theactwouldbefoolish.
SoIwalkedon,thesōlsdriftingintheairabovemeasIfollowedthepathI’dwalkedathousandtimes.They’dbegoneattheendoftheFeasts,notreturninguntilthedaysleadinguptothenext.
Ikeptmygazeonthem,becausethelowhumofconversationwasn’ttheonlysoundechoingoutfromthemanydifferentpathwaysandhidden-awaynooksofthegrandgardens.Thereweresofter,sultriergaspsandthicker,deepermoans,akindofsongonedidn’tnormallyhearwhiletravelingthehedgedwalkways.
TheFeastswereinfull,decadentswing.
Draggingmyteethovermylowerlip,Iwatchedthesōlsdipandriseasiftheywerejoinedinadanceuntilasoftpealoflaughterdrewmyattentionfromthem.Atriodriftedoutfromoneoftheshadowylanes.Twowomenandoneman,andtherewasnotellingiftheywerearistoornot,buttherewasawholelotofskinondisplay.Barearmsandlegsthatplayedpeekaboowiththepastelpanelsofskirts.Theman’sshirtwasleftundoneandopen.Crimsonribbonsfellfromthewomen’smasks,andtheman’swasaplain,shinyblack
Isteppedaside,allowingthetwowomenwalkingarminarmwithamantopassby.Onewomannoddedinmydirection.Theothersmiled.
“Goodevening,”themansaid,hisheadtiltingasheeyedme.AllIsawwasthecurveofhismouthtipupinapprovalasheeyedthelacystrapscrisscrossingovermybreastsandthegauzymaterialclingingtomyhips.
“Wouldyoucaretojoinus?”heasked.
Ibitonmylip,fightingagrin.“Thankyoufortheinvitation,butitlookslikeyoualreadyhaveyourhandsfull.”
Oneofthewomengiggled.“Hedoes,butourhands?”Shesharedaglancewiththedark-hairedone.“Arenotquiteasfull.”
Interestsparkedasthemanchuckled,leaningintokisstheshorterwomanonhercheek,theonewhospoke.Iopenedmysensesjustalittle.They…theywereacouple.Thethreeofthem.
Whataluckyman.
“I’monthewaytomeetsomeone,”Ilied.“ButIwishyougoodFeasts.”
“Whatashame,”themanmurmured,bowingelaborately.“HappyFeasts.”
Imurmuredthesame,hangingbackasthetriomovedfartherdownthepath.ThenIkeptwalking,thistimefollowingtwosōlscirclingoneanotherasmymindalternatedbetweenthevision,whatMavenhadshared,andClaude’sdisappearance.Mythoughtsstrayed,though,tohim.ItwaskindofhardforthemnottowhenIwasinthegardens,andthebreezestirredupthescentofcatmint.
WouldThornereturntomorrow?Thenwhat?Iwouldbehis?Butwasn’tIalready—
“Stop,”Iwhispered,refusingtoletthatthoughtevenfinish.MystomachtumblednonethelessasIshookmyhead.
TheonlythingthatIneededtothinkaboutthatconcernedThornewastellinghimabouthavingmetbefore.
AsInearedthewisteriatrees,Istoppedandlookedup.Starsblanketedthesky.Itwassucha…astrangecoincidencethatallofthiswashappeningatthesametime.
Thorne’ssuddenappearance,fulfillingatwelve-year-oldpremonition.Mynear-visceralreactiontohim.Hisinterestinmethathecouldn’texplainandthatIfeltwentbeyondhimnotrealizingwe’dmetbefore.Myintuitionstoppingmefromtellinghim.ThePrincessofVisaliaandtheWestlands’IronKnightsmakingamoveonArchwood.LearningthatlowborncoulddescendfromHyhborn.Claude’sabsence.Thevision.Hymel.ThatsmilinglordwhoresembledLordSamriel.Allofithappeningatthesametime,andI…
Ididn’tbelieveincoincidences.
Orfate.
Iloweredmygazetothestilllilacblossoms.Afainttingledancedatthenapeofmyneckandthenbetweenmyshoulderblades.Likeaslumberinggiant,myintuitionsparked.
Everythingisrelated.
Allofit.
Awarning.
Areckoning.
Apromiseofwhatwastocome—
Poolsofblood.Riversofitstreamingbetweenstilllimbs,seepingintogoldveining.Barearmswithdeepgouges.Somanyofthem,theirmouthsgapingopeninfrozen,silenthorror.Brocadeandjewel-encrustedmaskstorn,strewnacrossthefloor.Silverandsapphiredrenchedinblood.Andthistimetherewerescreams.Screamsofpain.Screamsofdeath—
Ijerkedoutofthevisionjustasthewisterialimbsbegantoshudder,swayingintheabsenceofanysortofbreeze.
Breathcatching,Itookastepback.Ashivercourseddownmyspineastinybumpsprickledmyskin.Hairalongthenapeofmyneckroseasanicy,unnaturalenergybuiltintheair.Ilookeduptoseewhatlookedlikedarkcloudsgatheringinthesky,blottingoutthestars.
Mymusclesseizedforamomentandtheninstinctkickedin,fueledbytheheightenedsenseofintuition.Ispunandtookoff,runningfasterthanIeverhadthroughthemazeofpathwaysasthestreamsofmoonlightfadedanddisappeared.
Somethingiscoming.
Icouldfeelitbuildingintheair—inthesuddensilenceandgrowingdarkness—andIdidn’tthinkwhatwasfillingtheskywasclouds.EverypartofmybeingwasfocusedonfindingGrady,andIdidn’tdarewastetimebygoingforthebridge.Knowingthelevelswerelowthistimeofyear,Ihalfslipped,halfrandownthemuddybank.WatersplashedasIstompedthroughtheshallowstream,losingashoeintheprocess.Ikeptgoing,reachingtheotherside,thehemofmygownsoakedandclingingtomylegs.Iclimbedtheshorthill,swallowingacryassharprockcutthroughthethinsoleofmyremainingshoe,slicingintomyskin.
Ididn’tletthatslowmedown.Iflewacrossthelawn,startlingmanyofthosewhowereontheground,theirbodiespressedtightlytogether.
“Getinside,”Iscreamed,dodgingotherswhowererisingtolookatthesky.“Getinsidenow!”
IhadnoideaifanyonewaslisteningasIstumbled,nearlyfalling.HadNaomilistenedtome?Ihadn’tseenherallday,andgods,Ihopedso,butmyheartlurched,becauseIstillsawthatbloodiedsapphirenecklace.
Panting,IracedupthewidestepsoftheBaron’smanor,andIwasmereinchesfromthedoorswhenthecloudsfellfromtheskyinachorusofwingsbeatingattheair.
Thenthescreamsofpain—thescreamsofdeath—began.CHAPTER34
Itwashappening.Thevision.Iknewit.
Grabbingthehandleofthedoor,Ilookedovermyshoulderandmylegsalmostgaveoutonme.
Whathadsnuffedoutthelightofthemoonandstarswassomethingstraightfromanightmare—creatureswithawingspanofoversevenfeetandtalonslongerandsharperthantheclawsofabear.Theylookedasifalowbornhadbeenfusedwithagianteagle.
Ni’meres.
Theydivedfromthesky,fasterthanacharginghorse.Thosestillonthelawnhadnochanceofescapingthem.Theni’meres’talonsrippedintofleshandbone,tearingopenbacksandshouldersandpiercingeventheskullsofthosefleeing.
Horrorseizedmeasani’mereliftedamanhighintotheair.Hescreamed,beatingatthetalonstearingintohisbareshoulders.Theni’mereletoutaterrifyingsound,somewherebetweenashriekandlaugh,beforereleasingtheman.Hefell,plummetingbacktotheground—
Anotherni’merecaughthim,itstalonssinkingdeepintotheman’sstomach,splittinghimopen.
Gagging,Ispunawayandflewintothereceivinghall.Ididn’tunderstandwhytheni’meresweredoingthis—hadaHyhbornbeenattacked?Therewasnotimetofigureitout.
Myothershoe,slipperywithblood,felloffasIdodgedpedestalsholdingtallvasesofsummerflowers.Iraceddownthewidehall,headingforthesolarium,whereI’dlastseenGrady.WhenIwashalfwaythroughthehallway,doorsallalongbothsidesburstopen.Low-bornfloodedthechamberinapanickedtide,topplingpedestalsandspillingpetuniasanddaisiesacrossthemarblefloors.Inaheartbeat,Iwasswallowedinthecrush.
Someoneslammedintome,spinningmearound.Myfeetslipped.Ifellintoanother,knockingthemasideaswingsbeatuponthewallsofthemanor.
“Sorry,”Igasped,reachingforthewoman.“I’mso—”Ichokedassheturnedherheadtome.Deepgougesscouredhercheeks.
Shehadnoeyes.
“Helpme,”sheraspedasIjerkedawayfromherreach.“Please.Helpme.”
“I…Idon’tknowhow.”Ibackedup,bumpingintoanother.Itwistedtoaman—amanwhowasundressedbutcoveredinsomuchbloodheappearedtobewearingasheathofglisteningred.Ipressedmyhandstomychest.“I’msorry.”
Chestsqueezing,Iturnedawayandpushedforward,desperatelytryingnottolooktoocloselyatthosearoundme,tryingnottohearthescreamsasIyelledforGrady,butitwasimpossible.Isawfleshshreddedandhangingintattersasiftheywerestripsofnothingmorethansilkygarments.Cheekssplitopen.Limbshangingandattachedbystrandsofsinew.Therewassomuchgorethatmystomachcramped.
“Grady!”Iyelled,strainingtoseeabovethosecrowdingthehall.“Grady!”
ThedoorsleadingtotheGreatChamberandtherestofthemanorappearedmilesawayasbodiespressedin;bodiesslickwithsweatandbloodcrowdedmine,anditwastoomuch.SomethingwashappeninginmymindasIstumbledforward.Dozensofstringsformedinmymind,stretchingoutandconnectingallaroundmeandallatonce.Theirthoughtspressedagainsttheinsideofmymindasstronglyastheirbloodiedbodiesdid.
Whyisthishappening?avoicescreamedinmyhead,jerkingmearoundbeforequicklybeingtakenoverbyanothershriekingWhereisJulius—didhemakeitinside?
Mywideeyesdartedfromapalefacetoacrimson-streakedoneinconfusion.Ishould’vehelpedher.Ijustleftherthere—Ileftheroutthere.
Getup.Godsdamnyou,getup.Ifwestayhere,we’regoingtodie.
“Leaveme,”thewoundedmanpleadedoutloud.“Justleaveme.”
“LikehellIam,”anothermangrunted.
Theirthoughts—ohgods,Icouldn’tblockthem.Icouldn’tsevertheconnectionasIpushedthroughthefrenziedbodies,myheartthumpingasthemoansofthedyingbecamefinalwordsinmymind.
It’stoosoon.
Thisisn’thappening.
Whyme?
Ican’tfeelmylegs.Whycan’tIfeel—
Theymergedtogether,makingitimpossibleformetotellexactlyhowmanyIwashearing,ifitwasoneormany.
I’mdying.
Ohblessedgods,saveme.
I’mdead.I’mdead.I’mdead.
Gaspingforair,Itrippedoversomething—someone.Icaughtmyselfonastill-standingpedestal,mystarefixedontheman’sface.Hismaskhungfromoneear,hislipspartedasiftheyhadfrozenmid-inhale.Histhroat…itwastornwideopen.Throughthemessofsnappedboneandjelliedflesh,Icouldseethefloor—seethebloodstreamingthroughthegoldveiningofthemarble.
MybodylockedupasIclutchedthecoolmarble.Theirthoughts.Thesightsandsounds.Myownrisingterror.Mylegsshook,kneesweakening.Icouldn’tmoveasmythroatseized.Icouldn’tshutthemout.Islidtothefloor,pressingbackagainstthebaseofthepedestal.Itwastoomuch.Theywereinsideme—theirfear,theirpanic,theirlastthoughts—andIcouldn’tpullmyselfoutofit.Couldn’tstopthemfrombeingapartofme.Ituckedmykneestomychest,squeezingmyeyesclosedasIpressedmyballedfiststomyears.
Helpme!
I’mdying!
Ithurts—ohgods,ithurts.
He’sgone.He’sdead.
I’mbleeding—
Lis.Lis.Lis.
Idon’twantittoendlikethis.
Ican’t.
It’snotfair—
“Lis!”Handsclampedmyarms,shakingme.“Calista,”thevoicedemanded.“Lookatme.”
Dragginginair,Iwasterrifiedtodoso—terrifiedbywhatI’dsee—butitwasbrowneyesstaringbackatmine,eyesashadedarkerthanmine.Grady.He’dfoundme—likealways,he’dfoundme.
“Icanhearthem,”Irasped,shaking.“Theirthoughts.Theirscreams.Ican’tstopit—”
“Justfocusonme.Justme,andtakeabreath—adeep,longbreath.Okay?Focusonmeandbreathe,”heordered,thewarmbrownskinaroundhismouthtautasanother’svoicestartedtointrudeonmythoughts.“Youfocused?”
“I—”Ibegantolookawayfromhim.Bloodpooledalongthefloor.Riversofcrimson,slickandshiny.Bloodsplatteredalongthebaseandupthesweepinggoldenpillars.Stillarmsandlegs.Skintornapartbydeepgouges….
“Isawthis,”Iwhispered.“ThisiswhatIsaw,Grady.Thisis—”
“Iknow.Thatdoesn’tmatterrightnow.”Heclaspedmycheeksthen,forcingmygazebacktohim.“TellmehowI’msupposedtomakecatmintcontinuetobloom?”
Hisquestioncaughtmeoffguard.“W-What?”
“TellmehowIcangetyourfavoriteflowertokeepblooming?”
“Ilikecatmint,butit’s…it’sn-notmyfavorite.Tickseedis.”Mymindsuddenlyfilledwithimagesoftiny,daisy-likeyellowblossoms.“Themoonbeamkind.”
“Okay.Whatever.Howdoyougetmoonbeamtokeepblooming?”
Mybrowsknitted.“Youhavetodeadheadthem—cutoffthelittleblackbuds,thespentblossoms.”
“Goodtoknow.”Hishandssmoothedthehairbackfrommycheeks.“Youpicturingthoseflowers?”
Inoddedasmymindfinallybegantocalm.Grady…he’ddonethisbefore,whenwewereyoungerandIhadn’tlearnedhowtosevertheconnectionwithothers.Pushingoffthefloor,Ithrewmyarmsaroundhim.“Idon’tknowwhatIwould…Iwoulddowithoutyou.”
“It’sokay.Igotyou.It’sokay.”Hisarmstightenedaroundme.“Youhurt?”
Ishookmyhead.“N-No.Itwasjusttheirthoughts.Icouldn’t—”
“Iknow.Iknow.”Herose,bringingmewithhim.“We’vegottogetoutofhere.Getfartherintothehouseandhidebeforetheygetin.”
“Theni’meres?”
“Notjustthem.”Hepulledback,quicklyscanningmyfaceandbodyforanyinjuryImighthaveliedabout.“IsawtheRaecomingoverthehill.”
“W-What?Why?”
“Idon’tknow.”Hegrabbedmyarm,squeezingashelookedaround.“Butsomethingbadisgoingdown,Lis.Primveraisburning.”
Mychestwentcold.“What?”
Hebegantoleadusthroughthecrowd.“IsawtheRaefromthesolarium.Sawitbeforetheni’merescame.That’swhenIstartedtolookforyou.Careful,”hewarned,guidingusaroundamotionlesspairoflegs.
Ididn’tlooktoseewhathadcausedthoselegstobecomesostill.
“Knewrightoffsomethingbadwasgoingdown.”Gradyshovedhisotherhandthroughhismopofcurlyhair.
“Doyouthinkit’stheWestlands?”
“Whoelsecoulditbe?”hesaid.“Theymust’vemadeitfartherintotheMidlandsthananyoneknew.That’stheonlyanswer.”Hegruntedassomeoneknockedintous.“We’vegottohide,”herepeated.“Andthenthefirstchanceweget,we’vegottogetout—”
Glassshatteredbehindus.GradylookedoverhisshoulderasIdidthesame.
Ni’merescamethroughthebrokenwindow,theirfeatheredbodiesslickwithbloodandgore.Theirwingsbeatattheairastheyswoopeddown,aimingforthosestillstandingwithtalonsthatdrippedred.
Chaoserupted.Thosewhocouldscatteredineverydirection,aswerantowardthemainhall.Weweren’ttheonlyoneswhoreachedthenarrowhallthatledtotheGreatChamberandtheremaininghallsandspaceswithinthemanor.
“NottheGreatChamber,”Igasped.“Wecan’tgothere.”
“Shit.”Grady’sgazebrieflymetmine.“Holdon.Don’tletgo,Lis.Whateveryoudo,don’tletgo.”
Iclutchedthebackofhistunicaspeoplecrowdedinallaroundus,quicklychokingthehall.
Buttheydidn’tknowthehouselikewedid.
Narrowtablesfell,cloggingthepathevenmoreaswewerepressedfartherdownthehall.ItuggedonGrady’sarm.“Thebluedoor!”Iyelled.“Thebackhalls.”
Gradynodded,keepinghisfootingandmineaswewerenearlyshovedrightpastthedoor.Wedugin,himgruntingandmegaspingasseveralpeopleslammedintous.Thedoorwasstuck,forcingGradytothrowhisweightbehindit.
Thedoorgroaned,swingingopen,andweallbutfellthrough.Ispunaround,spottingAllyson’spalecurlsinthemadness.“Allyson,”Iscreamed.Herheadwhippedtowardus.Shestartedfightingtowardthedoor.
“Comeon,”Gradyyelled,pullingusasideasayoungfair-hairedmanandthenAllysondashedintothechamber.
Iwenttoher.“Areyouokay?”Herlightbluegownwassplatteredwithblood.“Areyouhurt?”
“No,”sherasped,hercurlsfallinghaphazardlyintoherface.“Areyou?”
“I’mokay.”Myheartthundered.“I’msogladIsawyou.Haveyou…”Ifroze.Asilverchaincircledherneck,andfromit,asapphirejewelhung.“IsthatNaomi’snecklace?”
Confusionmarkedherbrowasshestaredatmelikeshecouldn’tbelieveIwasaskingsuchaquestion.“Yeah,Iwantedtowearitwithmygown.Shegaveittomeafewdaysago.”
Ohgods.
I’dbeenwrong.Ithadn’tbeenNaomiI’dseen….
Allysonglancedupattheceiling.“I…Igotseparatedfromtheothers,”shesaid,andIlookedaway,heartcrackingattherealization.“Theni’meres—theycameinthroughthewindowsthere.Idon’tknowif…”
“Thisway!”Gradyshouted,andIwhippedaround.“Comeon.Damnit,”hecursedaspeoplescrambledpastthedoor.“Thisway,youfuckers!”
Noonelistened.
Ishookmyhead,heartsinkingasani’mere’sshriekenteredthehall.
“They’recoming,”Allysonwhispered,backingawayfromme.Shebumpedintoasettee.“Wecan’tstayherewiththedooropen.”
Shewasright.
“Damnit,”Gradysnarled,slammingthedoorshut.“Damnit!”
“Th-Thisway,”Isaid,glancingattheotherman.Hewaspale.“There’sanotherhall.Itleadstotheservantquartersand—”
“Thewinecellar,”Gradyfinished.“Thatdoorisheavy.Noone,notevenni’meres,cangetthroughit.”
“Perfect.IfI’mgoingtodietonight,I’dratherbedrunkoffmyass,”themansaid,draggingahanddownthefrontofhistornshirt.“Name’sMilton,bytheway.”
“Grady.”Henoddedinmydirection.“ThisisLisandthat’s—”
“Allyson,”shesaid,nervouslyrubbingherhandsoverherbarearms.
Ascreampiercedtheair,causingbothAllysonandmetojump.
Miltonswallowed.“Let’sgettothiscellarsowecangetdrunkenoughthatwedon’tthinkaboutwhat’shappeningontheothersideofthatwall.”
“Soundslikeaplan.Yougood?”GradyaskedofAllyson,whonodded.Thenheturnedtome.“You?”
Footstinging,IlimpedslightlyasIstartedforthedoorattheotherendofthechamber.Icouldn’tlooktoolongortoocloselyatMiltonand…especiallynotAllyson.NotbecauseIworriedthatwhathadhappenedinthereceivinghallwouldoverwhelmmeagain.IfearedI’ddiscoverhowthenightwouldendforthem,andIalready…IalreadyknewhowitwouldendforAllyson.
AsIproceededforward,anall-too-familiarsenseoffragilecalmnessdescendeduponme,onethathadsprungfromdark,scarynightsthathadcomebeforewe’dfledUnionCityandafter,whenwe’dsleptonstreetsandinditches,whenwewerechasedoffbylawmenorwererunningfromadultswhosethoughtswerefullofterriblethings.We’dbeeninalotofbadspots,manyIdidn’tthinkwe’dmakeitoutof.
Itwasn’tthatIwasn’tscared.Iwasterrified.Myhearthadn’tstoppedpounding.Ifeltsickwithfear,butthiswas…itwasjustanotherbadspottogetpast.Tosurvive,andIwould.Wewould.
Iopenedthedoorthatfedintoanotherhall,whichwasthelengthofthemanorandwrappedaroundthewholeback.Itwasempty.Gradymotionedtheothertwoforward.Wehurrieddownthedimlylithall,themutedsoundsofscreamscomingfromtheothersideofthewallfollowingus,hauntingus.
Rememberingthedagger,Ihaltedandhitcheduptheskirtofmygown.Iunsheathedthedagger.Ilookedup.
Besideme,Miltonraisedhisbrowsashespottedtheluneablade.“I’mnotgoingtoevenask.”
“Probablybestthatyoudon’t.”Ilettheskirtfallbackintoplace.
“Whyaretheydoingthis?”Allysonasked,nibblingonherfingernails.
“Don’tknow,”Gradysaid,thenrepeatedwhathe’dtoldmeabouttheHyhbornCourt.“Butabunchoftheni’meresflewoverthemanor,headingstraightforPrimvera.”
“Youcan’tbeserious,”Allysongasped.“They’reattackingtheirown?”
“Heis.Sawitmyself,”Miltonconfirmed,andIhadafeelingwe’dseeitsoonenoughwhenwereachedthebackhall.“Lookedlikethewholecitywasburning,butIthinkitwasjustthewalloutsidePrimvera.”
“Butwhyattackus?”AllysonstuckclosetoGrady.“Weweren’tdoinganything.”
Nooneanswered,notevenmyintuition,butIdidn’tthinkthiswastheWestlandsortheIronKnights.Thiswassomethingelseentirely.
“Youliedtome,”Gradymutteredunderhisbreath.
“What?”Iglancedathim.
“Yousaidyouweren’thurt.”Heraisedhisbrows.“Yourfootisbleeding.”
“You’rebleeding?”ConcernfilledAllyson’svoice.
“It’snotabigdeal.Justaminorcutonmyfoot.”
“Minorcutsgetinfectedallthetime,Lis.Thenyouendupwithyourfootgettingcutoff.”
Mybrowsshotup.
“Thatescalatedquickly,”Miltoncommentedunderhisbreathfrombehindus.
Gradyignoredhim.“Assoonaswegetachance,we’rewashingitout.”
Isighedheavily.“Iwasplanningto,butcurrently,I’mmoreworriedabouttheni’meres.”
“Agreed,”Miltoncommented.
Wenearedthecornerwherethehallturnedtocontinuealongthebackofthemanor.Ipeeredaround.Thehallwasdark.“Thewindowsareintact.”
Gradystrodeforward,hishandaroundthehiltofhissword.Hisstepsslowed.“Sweetmercy.”
IcreptforwardasAllysoncriedout,smackingherhandoverhermouth.Shestumbledback,pressingagainstthewall.Itoldmyselfnotto,butIjoinedGradyatthechest-highwindowandregretteditatonce.
Themoonwasnolongerblocked.Silverylightfloodedthemanorgrounds.Bodieswerestrewnaboutthelawn,being…beingpickedatbyafewloneni’meres.
Mystomachchurnedwithnausea,butIcouldn’tlookawayfromthehorrifyingandgrotesquedisplay.I’donlyeverseenani’mereoncebeforeandatadistance.I’dbeenachildthen,buttheywerenolessterrifyingnowthantheywerethen,withtheirfeatheredbodiesthatwerevaguelymortal-like,andtheirfacesapalish-grayshade.Theiryelloweyeswerenearlyiridescent,ashadeofgoldthatmatchedthestreakscuttingthroughtheironyx-huedwingsandtheirlong,stragglyhair.Theirteeth…
Theywerepointed,asrazor-sharpasanybeakortalonwouldbe,andyettheirfeaturesweredelicate.Prettyeven,ifnotfortheghastlyshadeofskinandthebloodsmearingtheirlipsandchins.
Idraggedmystarefromthem.Beyondtheni’mereswasawhollydifferentsight.ArchwoodManorsatatopahill,andonsunnydays,thesunglintedoffthetopsofthewallssurroundingPrimvera.Tonight,theentirehorizonwaslitinagoldenglow.Primverawasburning.
“Shit,”Gradycursed,jerkingback.“TheRae.Getdown.”
IcrouchedbesideGrady,stomachknotting.“Ifthere’sRae…”
“Thenthereareprincesnear,”hefinished,hiseyesbrieflymeetingmine.
“‘PrinceRainerwillbejoiningusfortheFeasts,’”Iwhispered.“That’swhatHymelsaid.”
Grady’sjawclenched.“Yourprincedecidedtoleaveatonehellofatime,didn’the?”
“He’snotmyprince,”Iretorted.
“Weshouldtrytokeepgoing,”Miltonsaidfromwherehewascrouchedfartherdownthehall.“Howfardowehavetogo?”
Gradyrosehalfway,keepinghimselfbelowthewindow.“Attheendofthehall.Justkeeplowtothefloor.”
“Endofthehall”feltlikeitwasinawhollydifferentrealm.“It’sthesecond-to-the-lastdoor…”Itrailedoffasatingleofawarenesseruptedbetweenmyshoulderbladesandtraveledupthenapeofmyneck.Tinygoosebumpsspreadacrossmybarearms,andtherewasastrangewarmthinmy…inmychesteventhoughthetemperaturehaddropped,justasithadinthegardens.Thehairalongthenapeofmyneckrose.IliftedmygazetothewindowabovemeasIrubbedmychest.
“Lis?”Gradycalledoutquietly.“Whatisit?”
“I…”IntuitionwasguidingmeasIreachedup,grippingthebottomofthewindowsill.
“Shouldn’twebehurrying?”Miltonhissed.
Weshouldbe.
ButtherewassomethingIneededtosee.Irosejusthighenoughtopeerovertheledgeofthewindow.
Raerodepastonhorsesshroudedinblackcloth;thewispymistseepingfromopeningsintheircloakstraileddownthesidesoftheirhorses,spillinguponthegroundlikefog.Therehadtobewellovertwodozenofthem.WarningbellsstartedtoringthroughoutmewhentheHyhbornrodeforwardonlargereddish-brownsteedsdrapedinindigobannersthatboreacrimsoninsigniaofwhatresembledseveralinterlockingknots.I’dseenthesigilbefore.ItwastheRoyalCrestandrepresentedalltheterritoriesjoinedtoformone.
IfthiswastheWestlandsortheIronKnights,wouldtheyrideintobattlebearingthesigilofthekingtheysoughttooverthrow?Ididn’tthinkso.ButifitwastheKing,whywouldhehavePrimveradestroyed?UnlesshebelievedPrimverawouldbealosstoo?
Aflashofsilverywhiteinthemoonlightdrewmygaze.Hair.Longblondhairsopaleitwasnearlywhite.PalerthanthehairofthelordI’dseenintheGreatChamber.
Irecognizedhim.
EventhoughI’dbeentooscaredasachildtolookhimtheface,Iknewitwashim.
“Grady,”Iwhispered.“Look.”
Heturnedfromme,risingslightly.
“Youseehim?”
“Yeah,”hespatbetweengrittedteeth.“LordSamriel.”CHAPTER35
Whatintheworldwashedoinghere?Ididn’tknow,butIdidn’tbelieveincoincidences.Orfate.Myfingerspressedintothewindowsill.
“Wereallyneedtogetoutofhere,”Gradyurged.
IstartedtomovewhentheHyhbornwhorodebesideSamrielturnedtheircloakedheadtothewindow.Theirhorsedrewtoasuddenhalt.
“Shit,”Igasped,ducking.MywidegazemetGrady’sasmygriptightenedonthedagger.“Hecouldn’thaveseenus.There’snoway—”
Ani’mereshrieked,sendingaboltofrawfearstraightthroughme.
“Go!”Gradyyelledtotheothersaswehalfscrambled,halfranalongthewall.
QuicklycatchingupwithMiltonandAllyson,weracedforthedoortotheundergroundchambers,butwhilemyintuitionhadbeenquietsecondsearlier,itnolongerwas.Wingsbeatagainstthewindow.Iknew…
“We’renotgoingtomakeit,”Igasped.
“Wewill,”Gradyargued.“We—”
“No.”Igrabbedaholdofthebackofhistunic.“Wewon’t.”
Understandingflashedacrosshisfeatures.Hecursed,yellingfortheotherswhileIrackedmybrainforwherewecouldgo.Ilookedaround—
“Thelibrary!”Ishouted.
Allysonnodded,anddartedacrossthehall,headingforthedoorIknewledtoanotherpartofthemanor.There’dbechambersthere;theyweren’tassafeasthoseunderground,buttheywereplacestohide,andthatwasthebestwecoulddo.
Shepushedopenthedoor,holdingitopenasthefeelingofpressurecontinuedtosettlebetweenmyshoulders.TherewasnowayLordSamrielhadseenus,butsomethinghadalertedhimtoourpresence.
Glassexplodedaswehittheotherhall.Allyson’ssharpscreamspunmearound.Ani’merecameatus,itswingsskimmingthewallsonbothsides.Ifroze,justforaheartbeatasIstaredatthecreature’sfragile,doll-likefeaturessmearedwithblood—thesmoothfleshthatgavewaytosmall,layeredfeathersandbreasts.Actualbreasts.Theni’merewasafemale.
AndIwasnevergoingtounseethis.
“Getdown!”Gradyshouted.
Allysongrabbedmyarm,tuggingmetomyknees.Theni’meretwistedintheair,abouttoturnasMiltongrabbedthecreaturebythelegs.Withayell,hethrewitagainstthewall.
Plastercrackedfromtheimpact.Miltonjumpedback,breathingheavyastheni’merefellforward.Itroseontoitshindlegsinchesfromme,shrieking.
Imovedwithoutthought,lurchingtomyfeet.Ididn’tthinkaboutwhatIwasdoing.Ididn’thesitate.ItwasalmostlikeIwassomeoneelseastheni’mereswungatmewithsharp,bloodiedtalons.Idippedunderitsarmandspun.Snappingupright,Ithrustthedaggerdeepintotheni’mere’schest.Thecreature’sstunnedgazemetmineasIjerkedthebladefree.Theni’merestumbledback,itslegsfolding.Thecreaturewentdown,deadbeforeithitthefloor.Ilookedup.
Gradystaredatme,eyeswide.“Whatthefuck?”
Iglancedatmyblade.“Holyshit.”
Ashriekcutthroughtheairasanotherni’mereenteredthehall.
“Shit,”Gradycursed.
IscrambledpastAllyson,catchingthedoorandslammingitshut.Ithrewthelock,knowingitwouldonlyslowtheothersdown,asGradyshotforward.Hedidn’tthrusttheswordintotheni’mere.Thesteelwoulddoverylittle.Hetwistedatthewaist,sweepingupwiththesword.Thebladeslicedthroughtheni’mere’sneck.BloodsprayedasGradysevereditshead.Hesteppedback,bloodsplatteredacrossthesideofhisface.Ireallyhopedtheni’mereswereoneoftheHyhbornthatcouldn’tregenerate.
“Youokay?”Iwhispered,comingtoGrady’sside.
“Yeah.”Heglanceddownathimself,swallowing.“Yeah.”Heturnedtome,eyeingthedagger.“You?”
Inodded.
“Howthehelldidyoudothat?”Hetookaholdofmyarm.
“Idon’tknow.”Iswallowed,heartthumping.
Allysonjumpedassomethinghitthedoor.“There’smore.”Shebeganbackingup.“Library.Now.”
Stomachtwisting,Ishovedmysudden,inexplicable,andratherimpossibleprowesswiththedaggerawaytodealwithlater.IturnedasAllysonshovedopenthedoors.Weracedintothechamberjustasthesoundofwoodsplinteringreachedus.Allysoncriedout,fingerscurlingagainstthechestofhergownasMiltonandGradyclosedthedoorsbehindthem.
“Getthechairs—thesettee,”Miltonordered.“We’llblockthedoor.”
Quicklysheathingthedagger,Irushedforwardandslammedmyhandsintothesideofthesettee.Itbarelybudged.IwhippedtowardAllyson.“Helpme.”
Herwide,frightenedeyesmetmineasshehurriedtomyside,andIlockedontoher.Ithappenedsoquick.Iconnectedwithher,andmysecondsensecamealivesofasttherewasnostoppingitasshemovedforwardtohelp.Myentirebodyjerked.
ThenIsawherfalling—freshredrunningdownthefrontofherbluegown.ThenIfeltit—sharpagonyalongmythroat,burningandfinalasthesilverchainsnappedandthenecklacefell,thesapphiresplatteredwithblood—
Breakingeyecontactwithher,Ipushedharderonthesettee,itslegstearingthecarpet.“Hide,”Irasped.“Goandhide.”
“Youneedhelp.Youcan’tpushthis—”
“No.”Ishovedheraway,towardthestacks.
Shestumbledback.“Lis—”
“Youneedtohide.Now.Don’tmakeasound.Don’tcomeout.Youhide.Doyouunderstandme?Youstayhidden,nomatterwhat.”
“Y-Yes.”Shewrappedherarmsaroundherself.
“Go.Now.”
Allysonslowlybackedawayandthenturned,disappearingbetweentherowsofbooks.
Gradyjoinedme,grabbingthesideofthesettee.Wecarrieditovertothedoor.Miltonshovedaheavychairagainstit—
Athumphitthedoors,causingthethreeofustojumpagain.Anotherbanghitit.Ani’mereshrieked,turningmybloodcold.
“ReallywishIhadthatwinenow,”Miltonmuttered.
“We’llgetyouadozenbottlesafterthis,”Gradyassuredhim.Theni’merehitthedooragain,shrieking.“Weneedtohide.”
Mymindracedforagoodhidingplace.Ithoughtoftheheavilycurtainedrecessesthatmanyofthestafflikedtosneakto,eitherforabriefrendezvousoraquicknap.Someofthemevenhaddoorsinthemthatledtootherchambersortostairsthatwenttothemezzanineabove.Whichones,Icouldn’tremember.“Thealcoves.Toourleft.Someofthemhavedoors.”
Miltonnodded,swallowinghardasheglancedaround.“Bestofluck.”
Thenhedartedoff,headingtowardthewall.GradyandIdidthesame.Werushedthroughthemazeofbookcases.Thewallofalcovescameintoviewasthelibrarydoorscrashedopen.
Somewhereinthelibrary,Allysoncriedoutinfear,andmyheartsank.Pleasebequiet.Please.Please.Gradyshovedoneoftheheavydrapesaside,andthenwewerequicklyenvelopedinthedark,staleairofthecrampedspaceasthedrapesettledbackinplace.
GradyheldmetighttohimasIstaredthroughthegapbetweenthecurtains,myentirebodyshaking.Itwasnomorethananinch,butitfeltlikewestoodcompletelyexposedastheni’meresflewthroughthelibrary.Booksfell,onebyone,hittingthefloor,andIjumped.Eachtime,Ijumped.
Aloudercrashcamesecondslater,soundinglikeanentirerowofheavybookcasestopplingover.Silencefollowed,andthen…
Slow,steadyfootsteps.
Thenquiet.
SecondstickedbyasIstrainedtohearanysound.Minutes.Therewasnothing.Didtheni’meresleave?Wouldn’twe—
“There’snoreasontohide,”aHyhbornsaid,andmybodyflashedhotthencold.Ihadn’tforgottenthatvoice.ItwasLordSamriel.“Iwillnotharmyou.”
Gradymadenomovetocomeup.NeitherdidI.
“Comeout,”LordSamrielcalled,histonegentleandcoaxing.“Youwillbesafeifyoudo.”
Ireachedup,curlingmyfingersaroundGrady’ssleeve,wishingIhadn’tsheathedtheluneablade.Iwasn’tsurewhatI’ddowithit.Thenagain,Ihadn’texpectedbeingabletouseitbefore,butIdidn’tdarebreathetoodeeplyormakeanyothermovement.Notevenastheairturnedfrigidaroundus.
“Pleasedon’thidefromme.”LordSamriel’svoicewasdrawingcloser.“Wewanttohelpyou.”
We?
ThroughthegapinthecurtainIsawani’merelandononeofthebookcases,itsbacktousasitstretchedoutitsmassivewings.Itsheadtwistedfromsidetosideinthequiet.
ThenIheardasoft,tremblingvoicecallout,“You…youpromise?”
Theni’mere’sheadswiveledtotherightasIjerkedforward.Grady’sarmstightenedaroundme.
“Don’t,”hewhisperedinmyear.
Heartsinking,Ishuddered.Itoldhertohide—nottocomeout.Whyhadn’tshelistened?Iwantedtoscreamather,butIcouldn’t.Iknewthat,butmyentirebodystrainedagainstGrady’shold.
“Ofcourse.Ipromise,”LordSamrielassured,hisvoicesosyrupyitdrippedpoisonoussugar.“Comeon—ah,thereyouare.”
No.No.No.
Theni’mereshookoutitswings,acruel,bloodysmiletwistingitslips.
“That’snother,”anothervoiceanswered,onebothGradyandIrecognized.Hymel.Whatwashedoinghere,withthem?Hymelwasabastard,buthecouldn’tbeinvolvedinthis.
TherewasaheavysighandthenLordSamrielsaid,“Killit.”
It.
Killit.
Allyson.Her.Notit.Her.
“Stop,”anothervoiceintruded,onethatwascolder,flatter.
Theni’merelistened,tuckingitswingbackasitstrainedfromwhereitwasperchedonthebookcase.
“Yousaiditwashere.”Theunknownmalespokeagain.“Areyousure?”
“I’mpositive,”Hymelanswered,andmystomachhollowed.Ihadneverheardhimsoundsoscared.“IsawherrunwithAllyson.Shehastobeinhere,YourHighness.”
IsuddenlyunderstoodwhyHymelsoundedsoafraid,becausethatmanhespoketowasaprince.WasitPrinceRainer?ButwhywouldhebeherewhenhisCourtburned?
Gradystiffenedbehindme.Theywere…theyweretalkingaboutme.Mythoughtsraced,amessofconfusionandfear.
“Thenweshallsee,”thePrincesaid.
Suddenly,Allyson’sscreamrippedthroughtheair,high-pitchedandterrifying.Ijerkedforward,kneesnearlycollapsing.Gradyheldon,keepingmestanding
“Shushnow,”thePrinceordered,thatvoiceofhisalmostgentleifnotfortheiciness,andAllyson’sscreamsendedinasoftsob.
Thentherewas…therewasjustthesoundofmyheartpounding.
“I’mgoingtogivethislovelycreatureachance,”thePrincesaid,andthroughthecurtains,Icouldseetheni’meretwistitsheadbackandforth.“AndI’mgoingtogiveyouachoice.”Therewasapause.“Lis.”
IwentrigidagainstGrady,heartpounding.Icouldbarelygetenoughairintomylungs.
“Cometome,andshewillnotbeharmed,”thePrincesaid.“Don’t?”
Therewasacrack.Adeafening,sickeningsnap.
Allyson’ssharp,pain-filledscreampiercedtheair.Myentirebodyjerked.
“Thatwasjustonesmallbone,”thePrincecontinued.“Therearemanymoretobreak.Idon’twanttodoit.Ialsodon’twanttospendpreciousminutessearchingeveryinchofthismanorforyou.Cometome.”
Grady’sotherarmcamearoundmeashepressedhischeekagainstmine,hisbodyshakingjustasviolently.
Anothersnapshatteredthesilence,crackingmyheartandsomethingdeeper,moreimportant.Mysoul.Ididn’tknowwhythiswashappening.Whythisprince,whoeverhewas,waslookingforme.WhatHymelhadtodowithanyofit.Butusstandingbyanddoingnothing,lettingthishappen?IknewGradydidn’twantto.Ididn’t,butthemomentwereachedthealcove,itwasliketheyearsinArchwoodhadneverhappened.ItwasjustGradyandmeagainsttheworld,watchingoutforeachotherandonlyeachother.Itwashowwesurvivedthislong,butAllyson’sscreams…Iwantedtopiercemyeardrums.Iwantedtoclawoutmyowneyes.Shedidn’tdeservethis.Mygods,noneofthosewhohadsufferedtonightdeservedanyofthis.Andus?Me?Whatdidwedeserveforlettingthishappen?Whatdiditmakeus?ThemonsterThornehadaskedifIthoughthewas.That’swhatitmadeus.Islammedmyeyesshutagainstthetears,myfingersdiggingintoGrady’ssleeve.
“Don’t,”hewhisperedjustaboveabreath.
IshookmyheadfranticallyasAllyson’sscreamsturnedtomoans.Icouldn’tdothis.JustlikeIcouldn’tignoremyintuitionwhenitguidedmetointervene.Icouldn’tletmyselfbecomethis.Iwouldn’tletGradybecomeamonsterjusttoprotectmefromwhateveritwasthattheywanted.
“Please,”IwhisperedtoGrady.“Pleasestayhidden.”
“Lis—”
Ididn’tgivemyselftimetothinktoomuchaboutwhatIwasdoingortimeforGradytoprepare.Fearanddesperationwereaheadymix,givingonestrengthonenormallywouldn’thave.Ormaybeitwasadrenaline.Maybeitwassomethingelse—somethingthatcamefromthathidden,deeppartofmethathaderuptedwhenI’dgrabbedHymel’sarm.Ididn’tknow,butwhenIlurchedforward,IbrokeGrady’shold.
“Stop!Don’thurther!”IscreamedasIrushedthroughthedrapes,andIwasfast—fasterthanIhadeverbeen.Iflewintothelibrary.
Andintoanewnightmare.
BecauseGradywasrightbehindme.Ishould’veknownhewouldn’tlisten.Hecaughtmewiththearmaroundmywaist,haulingmebackastheni’mereturnedtowardme,featherwingswhippingoutasitscreechedawarning.IskiddedtoastopasIsawtheHyhbornwhohadtobethePrince.Itwasn’tPrinceRainer.ThismalewasblondlikeLordSamriel.Bloodsplatteredtheexquisitelyformedjawandcheek.HeheldAllysontohischestbyherthroat,forcingherontothetipsofhertoes.Herleftarmhungatanawkward,deformedangle.Herwide,terrifiedgazemetmineasGradytriedtoedgemeback,butIsawpastthem,towhereLordSamrielstoodtothePrince’sright,atoweringicybeauty.Hesmiledashetookastepforward.
Gradyshovedmebehindhim,brandishinghissword.Icriedout,grabbinghisarm,butheshookmeoff.“Don’tcomeupanycloser,”hewarned,andtheLordhalted.
ThePrincetiltedhisheadtotheside,hisgrasponAllysoneasingup.
“Yeah,that’sright.Youallaregoingtostayrightthereandyou’regoingtoletmyfriendhereleave,”Gradycontinued.“You’renotgoingtostopher.”Hesparedaquickglanceoverhisshoulder.“Getout.I’llcatchupwithyou.”
ShockblastedthroughmeasIstaredatthatbrave,loyalfoolindisbelief.DidhereallythinkIwouldleavehim?ThatIwouldrunandleavehimbehindeveniftheHyhbornallowedit?“No.”
Hisnostrilsflared.“Damnit,go!Getthehellout—”
“No,”Irepeated,tremblingasIgraspedhissides,holdingontohimwitheverythingIhad.
Hisheadkickedtowardmine.Panicfilledhiseyes,andIhadn’tseenthatsince…sincethenightinUnionCity.“Please.”
Tearsburnedmyeyes.“Itoldyoutostayhidden,”Iwhispered.
“Soverycharming,”LordSamrielsaid,andIjolted.Therewasnoimpatienceorannoyancetaintinghiswords.He…hesoundedlikehemeantit.Heliftedapalehand.
Gradycursedashisswordwasrippedfreeofhishand.LordSamrielsnatcheditfromtheair.
“Ironandsteel?Cute.”LordSamrieltskedsoftly.Heslammedthesworddownintothefloor,piercingthewood.Theswordreverberatedfromtheimpact.“Seizehim.”
Ithappenedfast—toofast.
Figuresdriftedoutfromthestacks,wispygraytendrilsseepingoutfromtheopeningsoftheircloaksandspillingalongthefloor.Theymovedsoquietlyandquicklytheycould’vebeenwraiths,buttheRaeweren’tspirits.Theywereboneand…someflesh.
Theywereonusinaheartbeat.
Gradybrokefreefrommygrasp,swinginghisfistsashecrashedintotheRae.Theheavythudsoftheblowshelandedknockedhoodedheadsback,scatteringthegraymist,buthewasoutnumbered.ARaecapturedhisarms,forcingthemtohisbackashewasdriventohiskneesandanotherhelda…aswordtoGrady’sthroat.Abladethatshoneamilkywhite.IshottowardtheRae,reachingforthearmthatheldtheswordatGrady’sneck.
LordSamrielsteppedinfrontofme.
Ijerkedbacksoquickly,Ilostmybalanceandslipped,landingonmyasshard.
Chuckling,LordSamrielglided—actuallyglidedtowardme.“Thatwasunbelievablygraceful.”
Shit.Shit.Shit.Icrawledbackward,mylegsgettingtangledintheskirtofmygown.
“Yousonofabitch!Getawayfromher!”Gradyshouted,strugglingagainsttheoneholdinghim.“Letmego,orIswearI’ll—”
“Silencehim,”thePrinceordered.
TheRae’scloakswhisperedalongthefloorasitspun,bringingdownthehiltofaswordontoGrady’shead.Hewentdown,sendingaburstofpanicthroughmeasIscrambledtomyfeet.Irushedtohisside,droppingtomyknees.“Grady?”IwhisperedastheRaemovedquietlyback,formingaloosecirclearoundGradyandme.“Grady?”
“Calmyourself.”HymelwalkedoutfrombetweentwostandingstacksasIjerkedtoahalt,mygazeimmediatelydrawntohisemptyhandsandthentohiships,wherehis…hisswordwasstillsheathed.Hehadn’tbeendisarmed.
AndIwasanaivefooltobelievethatHymel’spresencehadbeenforced.Thathewasn’tcapableoftakingpartinwhatwashappening.
“Youbastard,”Iseethed,fingerscurlingaroundemptyairasIglaredupathim.
“That’sher,PrinceRohan,”hesaid,thereliefevidentinhisfeatures.“That’stheonethatbelongstothePrinceofVytrus.”
Myentirebodylockedup.“What?”
“Perfect.”PrinceRohanletgoofAllyson.
Shestumbled,cradlingherarmtoherstomachasshesobbed.PrinceRohanlookedattheni’mereperchedontheshelf,andthatwasallittook.Theni’meretookflight,aimingstraightforher.
“Allyson!”Iscreamed.
Herheadjerkedup.Shespun,takingoffbetweenthestacks.Theni’mereshrieked,divingdownbetweentherows.“No!”Ishouted.Iknewwhatwascoming.Ihadseenwhatwouldhappen,andstillIshookasherscreamshittheair,high-pitchedandterrifyingbeforeendinginawetgurgle.
Thensilence.
“Whydotheyalwaysrun?”LordSamrielasked.“Wheredotheythinkthey’rerunningoffto?”
“Death,”PrinceRohananswered,eyeingme.
LordSamrielchuckled,sickeningme.“Soverymorbid.”
“You…yousaidyouwouldn’thurther.”Icouldbarelybreathe;mychestwastootightandIwasshakingsofiercely.“Yousaid—”
“IsaidIwouldgiveherachoice,”PrinceRohaninterrupted.“IdidnotsayIwouldn’thurther.”
Mylipsparted.“Whatchoicedidyougiveher?”
“Todiequicklyorslowly,screaminginpaintheentiretime,”hesaid.“Andthatwasaquickdeath.”
“Mygods,”Iwhispered,apartofmymindunabletoprocessthecoldbrutalityofhiswords.
“Ihopeyou’renotprayingtothem.”PrinceRohanlookeddownatmecoolly.“Becausetheystoppedlisteninglongago.”
“Iwasn’t,”Irasped,nothavingthebrainspacetoevenconsiderifwhathesaidaboutthegodswastrueornot.IglancedatGrady,seeinghischestriseandfall.Iplacedmypalmsthere,lettingeachbreathhetookcalmme.“Why…whyareyoualldoingthis?”
“Youcansaywe’rechangingtherules,”PrinceRohananswered.
“What?”IlookedbetweenhimandLordSamriel.“Whatrules?”
PrinceRohan’slipcurledindisdain;thenheturnedhisbackwithoutanswering.TheLordsteppedincloser,peeringdownatme.Hesquinted.“Shedoesn’tbearthemark.”
Themark.
ThemarkClaudehadspokenof.
“I’mnotsurewhatyou’relookingfor,”Hymelsaidfromwherehehungback.“Butshehasabilities.Thegiftofforesightandintuition.Shecanreadintentionsandthefuture.”
“Hereyes,”LordSamrielexplained,headcocked.“Themarkwouldbeinhereyes.”
Isuckedinasharpbreath,mymindflashingfromthebriefsightofthemchanginginthemirror.Ithadn’tbeenmyimagination,butdidn’tIalreadyknowthat?Deepdown?
“Shecould’vebeenglamoured,”PrinceRohanmused,andIdidn’thaveasinglecluewhathemeantbythat.“WewillknowonceLordArionreturns.Inthemeantime,getridofthatone—”
“No.No.Please,”Ipleaded,stretchingoverGrady.“Pleasedonothurthim.Please.I’lldowhateveritisthatyouask.”Itrembled,notabovebegging—bargaining.“Please.”
PrinceRohanturnedslowlytowardme.Hiseyes…theywerelikeThorne’s,akaleidoscopeofshiftingcolors,exceptthebrownwasclosertoashadeofcrimson.“Anything?”
Myheartplummeted,butInodded.“Anything.”
LordSamrielglancedatHymel.
“Shespeaksthetruth.”Hymelcrossedhisarms.“Thosetwoarethickasthieves.He’sleverage.”
AngerfloodedmyveinsbutIchokeditback,focusingonthePrince.“Promisemeyouwon’thurthim,andIwilldowhateveryouwant.Iswearit.”
Afaintsmileappeared,andasIstaredupathim,IcouldseethathisfeatureswereevenmorefinelycraftedthanThorne’s,buttherewasno…nolifetothem.Hewasaperfectlymoldedshell.“Okay.”
Ididn’tletmyselffeelanounceofrelief.“Promisemeyouwon’thurthim.”
Thatsmilegrew,andstill,itdidnothingtosoftenhisjaworwarmhisstare.“Youareaquicklearner.”
IglancedatHymelandthentowardthestacks,whereAllysonhad…whereshe’dtakenherlastbreath.“No,I’mnot.”Iswallowed.“Promise.”
“I,PrinceRohanofAugustine,promisethatnoharmwillcometohim,”hesaid,andIshudderedwithreliefdespitetheknowledgehehailedfromtheLowlands—thecapital.Hyhborncouldn’tlie.Theyalsocouldn’tbreakanoath.ThatIremembered.“Aslongasyougivenoreasonforthattooccur.”
Trepidationtiptoedthroughme,butIheldontoPrinceRohan’soath.
“Takehertoherquarters,”PrinceRohandirected.
“I’mnotleavingGrady,”Iwarned,latchingontohistunic.“Hestayswithme.”
LordSamriel’sbrowsinchedupasPrinceRohanrefocusedonme,hisstaremoreunnervingthanThorne’sbecauseitwassocold,solifelessdespitethechurning.ThePrincemovedsofastIdidn’tevenhavetimetoscream.
Hishandcamearoundmyneck,andheliftedme,forcingmetostandonthetipsofmytoes.“Ipromisednoharmwouldcometohim,”hesaidasIgraspedhisarm.Mymindopenedwidetohim,andIsawnothing…nothingbutdarkness.“WhetherornotIhonorthatoathwillbeuptoyou.Makingdemandsisonewaytoguaranteethatoathisbroken.”Hisfingersbitintomythroat,sendingaflareofpainalongmyneck.“Doyouunderstandme.”
“Yes,”Iforcedout.
“Good.”Hedidn’tsomuchletgoofmeasshovemeaway.Istumbledback,caughtbythearmsbyLordSamriel.HisgripwasfirmbutnotnearlyaspainfulasIknewitcouldbe.“Takehertoherquartersandmakesureshestaystherewhilethehorsesarereadied.WewillleaveassoonasLordArionconfirmswhatisclaimed.”
LordSamrielbegantomove,andIwasn’tgivenmuchofachoice.MystaredesperatelyclungtoGrady’sunmovingform.Whatweretheygoingtodotohim?Ididn’tdareaskoutoffearofgivingPrinceRohanreasontobreakhisoath.
“YourHighness.”Hymelspokeup,unfoldinghisarms.“WhataboutthePrinceofVytrus?HelefttoescorthisknightstoArchwood.Theywillbereturningbytomorrownight,atthelatest.”
Myheartskipped.Inthepanicandterror,I’dforgottenthereturnofThorneandhisknights.
“Theywillrunintosomeunexpectedtroubleenroute,whichshouldgiveustime,”PrinceRohansaidwithasmile,andthatquickburstofhopedeflated.Helookedtome.“Don’tworry,mydear.WewillkeepyousafefromthePrinceofVytrus.”
Mymouthdroppedopen.OfallthethingsImighthaveexpectedthePrincetosay,thatwasnotit.“Keepmesafefromhim?”
“Itmaynotseemthatwaynow,butwearesavingyourlife,”PrinceRohansaid.“Afterall,it’sPrinceThorneyoushouldfear.Youarehistokill.”CHAPTER36
ThrownbywhatPrinceRohanhadsaid,IwasbarelyawareofHymelleadingLordSamrieltomyquarters.TherewasnowaywhatthePrincehadsaidwastrue.Iwasn’tThorne’stokill.Hewasn’tathreattome.Iwasn’tscaredofhim.Ifeltsafewithhim.
ButHyhborncouldn’tlie.
Theycouldkill,though.
MychesthollowedasIwalked,theslicealongthebottomofmyfootadullburn.EverywhereIlooked,nomatterhowquicklyIavertedmygazeanddespitethefactthatHymeltookusthroughthestaffhalls,Isawbodies.Isawbloodstreakingthefloorandpoolinginthecrevices.Whenwereachedthehalltomychambers,itwasdevoidofgoreandbloodshed.Ifnotforthefaintsmellofburningwood,onecouldalmostpretendthatsuchviolencehadn’ttouchedus,butIcouldstillhearthemoansandwhimpers,anddistantscreams.
Myvisionhadcometofruition,butithadn’tencapsulatedthetruehorrorofwhathadcometopass.
LordSamrielusheredmeintothechambersafterHymelopenedthedoors.Hymelstartedtofollow,buttheLordhelduphishand.“Leaveus.”
MyheartstutteredasmygazeflickedtoHymel’s.Hehesitated,hisgazebouncingbetweentheLordandme,andgoodgods,I’dneverthoughtI’dpreferhiscompany,buthereIwas,wishingitweren’thimclosingthedoorsandremaininginthehall.
AlonewiththeLordinachamberthatnolongerfeltfamiliarandwasstrangelycold,IwastooawareoftheLord’sstare.ItwasmuchlikeThorne’s.Intense.Unflinching.Ifoldedmyarmsovermychestandbackedupagainstthesettee.SeveralmomentsofsilencepassedastheLordwatchedme.Ipeekedathim.Thesilvery-blondhairwaslongerthanithadbeenwhenIlastsawhim,reachingthemiddleofhisbackandashockagainsttheleather-adornedblackarmorprotectinghischestandshoulders.Helooked…curiousandperplexed.Didherecognizeme?LikewithThorne,Idoubtedit,butthesameinstinctthatwarnedmetostayquietresurfaced.
“Sit,”LordSamrielinstructed.
NotwantingtotempttheLord’sireandendangerGrady,Isatontheedgeofthesettee,curlingmyfeetbeneaththehemofmygown.
Slowly,hesatonthesettee,hislongandleanbodyangledtowardmine.“Yourname?It’sLis?”
Inodded.
“Isitshortforanything?”
Pressingmyarmsclosetomywaistandchest,Ididn’twanttoanswerhim,buttheriskoflyingwastoogreat.“Calista.”
“Calista,”herepeated,andhearinghimspeakmynamedrewashiverdownmyspine,butnotthekindelicitedfromThorne.“Abeautifulnameforabeautifullady.”
Fingerspressingintomysides,Iforcedmyselftorespond.“Thatiskindofyoutosay.”
Hisansweringsmilewastightandknowing.“Youworryforyourfriend?”
Mystomachdippedandtwisted.“Yes.”
“ThePrincewillnotbreakhisoathunlessgivenreasonto,”hetoldme.“Youjustdon’twanttogivehimreason.”
“Iwon’t,”Iswore.
“Relievedtohearthat,”hereplied.“Tellmeaboutyourabilities,Calista.”
“I…IcandoasHymelsaid,”Itoldhim.“ButI’mnotaconjurer.”
“Iknow.”LordSamrielleanedback,restingoneankleonhisknee.Theshaftsofhisbootswerepolished,butsomethingdarksmearedthefoot.Iglancedatthetilenearthedoor.Afootprintinredstainedthefloor.Blood.Iquicklylookedaway,stomachchurning.“Iwanttohearhowyouwoulddescribethem.”
Notatallexperiencedinspeakingofmyabilities,Isquirmed.“Ihave…heightenedintuitionandIcansometimesseethefuture—invisionsorwhenaskedaquestion.”
“Interesting,”hemurmured,thecurveofhislipsdoingnothingtosoftentheharshanglesofhisfeatures.“Thisheightenedintuitionyouspeakof?Howdoesitwork?”
“It…itguidesmetowardcertainchoices.SometimesI’munawareofituntilI’mdoingsomething.”
“Like?”
Mythoughtsweresoscatteredittookamomentformetothinkofanexample.“SometimesI’llseesomeoneandknowwhatisabouttooccur.Itcanhappeninapremonition—somethingIseehappeninginmymindbeforeitoccurs—andothertimesit’savoiceIhear.”
“Voice?”hequestioned.
“Myownvoice.It’ll…whisperwhatisabouttooccuroritwilltellmetostopandlisten,takeanotherpathorenteradifferent—”Ascreamfromoutsidecausedmetojump.Mypulsespedup,andmyheadswungtowardthewindow,butIcouldseenothingbeyondthecurtains.Whowasthat?SomeoneIknew?Astranger?
“Paythatnomind,”LordSamrielsaid,tonegentleandalmostkind.Histonehadbeenthatwaythisentiretime.Casual,even.“Thereisnothingyoucandoforthem.Focusonwhatyoucandoforyourselfandforyourfriend.Whatishisname?”
AknotlodgedinmychestasIdraggedmygazefromthewindow.“Grady,”Iwhispered,clearingmythroat.“Myintuitionisjustveryheightened.”
“Andseeingthefuture?”LordSamrielasked.
Inodded.“Usuallyittakessomeoneaskingmeaquestion.I…IwillneedtoconcentrateonthemandsometimesIneedtotouchthem.”
“Butyoualsohavepremonitionswithoutbeingasked.Didyounotseethiscoming?”
“Idid,but…”Iswallowed,unnervedasIfocusedonthehandrestingonthearmofthesettee.Theringfingeronhislefthandwasmissing.Couldhenotregenerateit?TherewasnodoubtinmymindthatLordSamrielwaspowerfulenough,whichmeantthatkeepingfromhimthefactthatIcouldhearthoughtswasnotwise,butHymelhadn’tmentionedit.Theothersmightnotknow.“Butitwasvague.Iknewthere’dbe…bloodshedbutIdidn’tknowwhatwouldcauseit.”
“Isitbecausetheeventsinvolvedyou?”
Mygazeshottohisasmyheartskipped.
Hissmiledeepenedashischindipped.“I’lltakethatasayes.”
“How…howdidyouknowthat?”
“Iknewofsomeonelikeyouonce,withsimilargifts.Theirfuturewasoftenhiddentothem.”Hisgaze,likeshardsofobsidianexceptforthegreenringaroundthepupil,flickeredacrossmyface.“Foratime.”Hisheadstraightened.“Youwereanorphan?”
Surpriserippedthroughme,thenunderstanding.“Hymel?”
LordSamrielnodded.
Angerbuilt,tastingofashonmytongue.ItwasclearthatHymelhadbeenworkingwiththeseHyhborn,wholikelyhailedfromtheLowlands.Forhowlongwasanyone’sguess.“Hymel…hesaidPrinceRainerwouldbejoiningusfortheFeasts.”
“Hedid,”LordSamrielsaid.“OrIsupposeitwouldbemoreaccuratetosaythathewasgoingto.However,thePrinceofPrimverawasn’tinagreementwiththeKing’swishes.”Hepaused.“Maythegodsresthissoul.”
ThebreathItookwentnowhere.“PrinceRainer…he’sdead?”
“Unfortunately.”
Ohmygods.Irockedback,toespressingintothethickrug.“TheKing…”Icouldn’tbringmyselftosaywhatIsuspected.
“WhathasPrinceThornetoldyou?”LordSamrielasked.
Itensed.“About…aboutwhat?”
“AbouttheKing.”
“Nothingmuch,”Isaid,andthatwasn’talie.Notexactly.“AllIknowisthathewassentheretodetermineifArchwoodwasworthdefendingagainsttheIronKnights.”
LordSamrielmadeanoncommittalsound.
“Wasthatnottrue?”Iasked,notdaringtoopenmysensestohim.Notthen.
“Hyhborncannotlie.”Thegreencircleschurnedslowlyaroundhispupils.“PrinceThorneisunawareofyourabilities,isn’the?He’sunawareofwhatyouaretohim?”
“No,hedoesn’tknowaboutmyabilities.”Mythroattightened.“AndI’mnothingtohim.”
“That’snottrueatall,Calista,”hesaid,andmyskinchilledatthesoundofmyname.“Hemaynotyetbeawareofwhatyoumeantohimonaconsciouslevel,butonaprimalone?I’mconfidenthedoes.He’sdrawntoyou,whetherheunderstandswhyornot.”
Ijolted,recallingThorne’sownconfusionasheadmittedasmuch.“I…Idon’tunderstand.”
“Well,it’squitesimple,”LordSamrielsaid.“Youareeverythingtohim.”
Ashiverywaveofawarenesssweptthroughme.“Ny…ny’chora.”
LordSamriel’spalebrowslifted.“So,hehasspokentoyouaboutsomething.”
“Itwas…Iwasaskingwhyhisheartdidn’tbeat.”
EverythingabouttheLordchangedinaninstant.Thefriendlyifcoldsmileslippedfromhisface.Hisentirebodytensed,andwhenhespoke,gonewasthegentleness.“Andwhatdidhesaytothat?”
MyjawclampedshutwiththesuddenfeelingthatI…Ineededtobecareful.Itwasthefaintstirringsofmyintuition.“Hejustsaidthathisheartdoesn’tbeatbecauseofhisny’chora.”
Hislipsthinnedastheycurledslightlyononeside.“Didhetellyouwhattheny’chorawas?”
“Onlythatitwaseverything.Thatwasallhesaid,”Iquicklyadded.“Itwasatnight,andhewastired.Hewenttosleep.”
Thoseunblinkingeyesdidn’tleavemine.“Hesleptwithyou?”
Iwetmydrylips.“Doyoumeanliterallyorfiguratively?”
LordSamrielchuckled.“Literally.”
“Yes.”
“Andfiguratively.”
“No,”Ilied,andIwasn’tevensurewhyIdid.Itslippedfrommymouthsoquicklythatitsoundedgenuine.
“Interesting.”Hisgazeflickeredoverme.“Butyoutwohavebeenintimateinotherways,Iimagine?”
“Yes.”Swallowing,Ilookedaway,mygazesettlingonthedoor.“Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?”
“Nothing.I’mjustbeingimpoliteandnosy.”
Ihuffedoutadrylaugh.
“Whatdoyoufeelwhenyouarewithhim?”heasked.“Andthisisnotanimpolitequestion,Calista.It’soneIneedyoutoanswer.”
Unfoldingmyarms,Iclaspedmytightlypressed-togetherknees.“Idon’tknowhowtoanswerthat.”
LordSamrielraisedhisbrows.“Areyoudrawntohim?Attractedtohim?OrdoeshefrightenyoulikeIdo?”
Myheartskipped,andthatfaintsmilereturned.TheLordwas…howdidThorneputit?Tunedin?
“I’menjoyingtheopennessofourconversation,”hesharedinmysilence.“Ihopeitcontinuestobepleasurableandeasy.”
“Or?”Iwhispered.
“OrIwillsimplymakeitaneasyconversation,thoughitmaynotbeenjoyableforyou.”
Ilookedup,understandingwhathemeant.He’duseacompulsion—seizemywillandtakecontrol—likehe’ddonewithGradyinUnionCity.Awholenewkindofterrorseizedme.ThatIdidn’twant.Ever.“Iamdrawntohimandfindhimattractive.Afterall,heisaHyhbornprince.”
LordSamrielsmirked.“Areyouafraidofhim?”
“No.”
Thatsmilereturned.“He’stheonlyoneyouwon’tfear.”
“AndyetI’mhistokill?”Iforcedoutthewordsthatfeltsoverywrongtosay.
“Ifhewantstosurvive,yes.”
Isuckedinashakybreath,chesttighteneduntilIfeltlikeIwouldsuffocate.“Idon’tunderstand.”
TheLordwasquietforafewmoments.“Doyouknowanythingaboutyourbirth?Yourbloodline?”
“No,”Isaid,thinkingofwhatMavenhadshared—gods,wasMavenstillalive?Ishuddered.“IjustknowIwasgiventothePrioryofMercyasababe.”
Hisstaresharpenedashestaredatme;thenaslowsmilespreadacrosshisface.“DidyouevertellPrinceThornethatyouweregiventothePriory?”
Myheartwaspoundingoncemore.Ishookmyhead.
“Calista?”Hedrewhisbootedfootfromhisknee,loweringittothefloor.“Ihaveaveryimportantquestionforyou.WasPrinceThorneunknowntoyouwhenyoumethimhere?AmIunknowntoyou?”
Atremorstartedinmyhandsandtraveledupmyarms.“No,”Iadmittedinahushedvoice.
“Oh,theironyissosweet.”Hescootedtotheedgeofthesettee.“Youwererightthere,infrontofus,andyetneitherofusknew,”hesaid,lettingoutathicklaugh.“Youwereglamouredeventhen.”
Thatwordagain.“Glamoured?”
“Yourdivinitywashidden,likelybythePrioress.Youwouldn’tbethefirstthatthey’veattemptedtohide.Theiractionsare…righteousinnature,ifinfuriating.Theyseethemselvesasprotectorsofthosebornofthestars.”
Istaredathim.“So…youbelievemetobeacaelestia?”
“Ibelievethatyou’remorethanjustthat.Yousee,quiteanumberofmortalscarrythebloodofHyhborninthem,”hesaid,andIthoughtofwhatMavenhadsaidabouttheconjurers.“Therecouldevenbemorecaelestiasthantherearemortals.It’shardtotell,butwhenthestarsfall,amortalismadedivine.”
Thatphraseagain.“Andwhatdoesthatmeanexactly?”
“Itmeansthegodsblessedthoseborninthehourthatthestarsfellwithcertaingifts—withabilitiesthatwouldmakethemusefulintimesof…strife.”
IthoughtofVayneBeylen.“Thereareotherslikeme.”
“Thereusedtobemanyny’seraphs,”hesaid,andmybreathcaught.“OneforeveryDeminyen.Yousee,theny’seraphisbondedtoaDeminyenatbirth,becomingtheirny’chora.”
Whydoesn’titbeatlikethatnow?
BecauseIlosttheny’chora.
“Bonded?”Iwhispered.
Henodded.“Ifyouweren’tglamoured,PrinceThornewould’verecognizedyouthemomenthelaideyesonyou,butevenso,hewasstilldrawntoyouandviceversa.Thatishowpowerfulthelinkis.”
“You’resayingthatthegodsbondamortaltoaDeminyenatbirth?”Iswallowed.“Why?”
“Becauseoncethebondiscompleted,theDeminyengainstheirny’chora—theirconnectiontohumanity.Theny’chorakeepsthem—”
“Humane.Compassionate,”Iwhispered.
LordSamrielnodded.“Thegodsfoundthatnecessaryafter,well,thatisaconversationforadifferentday.”
IthoughtIalreadyknewwhatconversationhespokeof.TheGreatWar.BasedonwhatThornehadtoldme,theDeminyenshadgonetorestbecausethey’dbeenlosingtheirabilitytoconnecttomankindandwhenmanyawoketheydidsowithoutcompassion.
Mygods,Ididn’t…Ididn’tknowwhattothinkaboutthat—anyofthat.Itwasalmosttoomuchtoconsider.“Howisthatbondcompleted?”Iasked.
“Afewways,butthat’snotwhatyouneedtoworryabout,”hesaid,andIstartedtoopenmysensestohim.Thewhitewallshieldinghisthoughtsthrobbedasheleanedforwardsuddenly,hismovementsseveringtheconnection.“Thecompletionofthebondwillnothappen.”
Ilookedaway.Justforafewseconds.“Why…whywouldheneedtokillmetosurvive?”
“Becausetheny’seraphcanbeastrengthtoaDeminyen,butalsotheirgreatestweakness,”LordSamrielexplained,histonegentleoncemore.“Throughyou,hecanbekilled.”
Mylipspartedasmybreathcaught.
“Butwewon’tallowthat.”Herose.“PrinceRohanwillwantallofthisconfirmed,justtobesure.Youshouldresttillthen.”
Rest?Washeserious?Istayedseatedashecrossedtothedoor,treadingoverthesmearofbloodthere.“Andthenwhat?”
“ThenyouwillbetakentoAugustine,”LordSamrielsaid.“AndyouwillbegiventoKingEuros.”CHAPTER37
UnsureofhowmuchtimeIhad,Ididn’twanttoriskanyonereturningformewhileIwasundressed,soIgrabbedtherobefromthebedchamber,cinchingittightlyaroundmywaist.Ikepttheluneabladeonme,butmovedittomyankle.Havingthisonmewasarisk.IdoubtedtheHyhbornwouldtakekindlytoseeingit,andthelastthingIwantedtodowasjeopardizeGrady.
ButIneededsomethingtodefendmyself.
Ihastilywashedthecutonmyfoot.Ithadstoppedbleeding,butIwrappeditwithapieceofgauze.Ireturnedtotheantechamber,limpingslightly.MyscatteredthoughtsimmediatelywenttoLordSamriel’spartingwords.
IwastobegiventotheKing?Inwhatmanner?Withoutmyintuition,myimaginationwenttoallsortsofplaces.Idraggedatremblinghandthroughmytangledhairandstoppedbythewindow.Ipulledthecurtainback.Mybedchamberfacedapartofthegardensandthefrontofthemanor.Onlyafaintgleamofmoonlightcastlightoverthedarkgrounds.Thereweren’tevenanysōlsinthedistance,butIcouldmakeoutjustthehintof…oflumpsscatteredaboutthegrounds.Bodies.Iswallowedthickly.Icouldn’tseethestables.WasIrisokay?Iknewitseemedwrongtoworryforahorsewiththelossofsomuchlife,butanimalswereoftenthemostvulnerable.
Lettingthecurtainslipbackinplace,Iclosedmyeyes,butthehorrorandtheconfusionstillfoundme.Iwasn’tsoshockedthatIhadn’tbeenabletoreadbetweenwhatIalreadyknewandwhatLordSamrielhadsaid.Itmadesenseandyetdidn’t.
WhatIdidn’tunderstandwashowThornewasarisktomedespitewhatLordSamrielhadshared.HowIcouldfeelsafewithhimyethewouldkillmetosurvive.Icouldn’tbelieveit.
ButHyhborncouldn’tlie.
Theyspokethetruth.AshakybreathleftmeasIpressedmyballedhandagainstmychest,wheremyheart…itachedfromtheloss,fromthefear,andfromtheknowledgethat…thatThornewouldharmme,andIdidn’tevenunderstandwhythatwouldaffectmeso.Ibarelyknewhim.Hewasn’tanythingtome..
Exceptthatthoughthadneverfeltright.
Maybeitwasbecauseofthis…thisbond.Maybeitwassomethingmore.Ididn’tknow,butIhadstartedtofeel—
Thechamberdoorsuddenlyopened,spinningmearoundasmyheartlurchedintomythroat.Itwasn’taHyhbornwhoenteredandclosedthedoor.
ItwasHymel.
Icouldn’tevenfeelreliefthen.Ididn’tfeelanythingbutrageasIcrossedthefloorandswung.Ididn’tslaphim.Ipunchedhimrightinthejaw.
Hymel’sheadsnappedbackaspainlancedmyknuckles,andIwelcomedthatpainwithasavagesatisfaction.
“Fuck,”Hymelgrunted,claspinghisjawashestraightened.Heturnedhisheadtome.“Thatwasunnecessary.”
Iswungagain,butHymelwaspreparedthistime.Hecaughtmyarm.Withacryoffury,Iwentathimwithmyotherhand,fingerscurledintoclaws.Hejerkedhisheadback,butmynailsscrapedhischeek.Hehissedastwobrightredstreaksappearedabovehisbeard.
“Bitch,”hesnarled,snatchingmyarm.
“Letmego!”Ishrieked,pullingonmyarmsasheshovedmehard.Thebackofmycalveshitthesettee,takingmylegsoutfromunderneathme.Ilandedonthesettee,andimmediatelystartedtostand,butHymelstillhadaholdofmyarms.Heforcedmedownonmyback,trappingmylegswithhis.“Getoffme!”
“Stopshouting,”hespat,inchesfrommyface.“You’lldrawoneofthoseHyhbornhere—”
“Getthefuckoffme!”Iscreamedinhisface.“Youtraitorousmotherfucker!”
“Godsdamnit.”Hejerkedmyarmsup,pressingthemintothecushionbehindmyhead.Hepinnedmywriststogetherunderonehand.Hisothersmackeddownonmymouth,silencingmycurses.“Isweartothegods,”hegrowled,pushingmyheaddownintothecushion.“Iwouldlovenothingmorethantochoketheever-lovingshitoutofyou,butsincetheywantyoualiveandIwanttosurvive,Ineedyoutokeepitthefuckdown.Fuck,”hesnapped.“TheonlyreasonwhyIcameinherewastomakesureyouwerestillbreathing.Idon’tknowortrustthatwhite-hairedHyhborn.Knowingmyfuckingluck,he’llendupkillingyouandallofthiswillbefornothing.”Thehandaroundmywriststightenedbrutally.“Soareyougoingtoactright?Areyou?”
Breathingheavilythroughmynose,IglaredupathimasInoddedasbestasIcould.
Heslowlyliftedhishandfrommymouth,hisentirebodytenseasifhewasreadyformetostartscreamingagain.“DidyoupickupanythingfromLordSamriel?”
“Fuckyou.”
“AsI’vetoldyoubefore,notinterestedinwheremycousinhasbeen.”
“AndwhereisClaude?”Idemanded,shakingwithanger.“Iwantthehonesttruth.Ishe—”Myvoicecracked.“Ishealive?”
“What?Youcan’tanswerthatyourself?”
Myintuitionwouldn’ttellmewherehewas,andgods,ithadn’toccurredtomeuntilthenthatitcouldverywellbebecausehewasnolongerapartofthisrealm.
Hiseyessquinted.“Youtooafraidtoseeifyoucanfindout?”Helaughed.“Youcarethatmuchabouthim?Fuck.Itoldyoubefore.Idon’tknowwherethehellheis,butIcanwageraguess.”Hemetmyglowerwithhisown.“Hehittheroadthefirstchancehecould.”
Disbeliefcoursedthroughme.“You’resuggestingthatClauderanaway?Thatheabandonedhishome?Hispeople—”
“You?Godsdamn,thatisexactlywhatI’msuggesting.ThefuckerisacowardwhohasalwaysbeenmoreconcernedwithgettingoffandgettingdrunkorhighthanheeverhasrunningArchwood.Henevershould’vebeenbaron.You’dbelyingifyoudidn’tagreewiththat.”
Thethingwas,Icouldn’tdisagree.Claudewasterriblyirresponsible,butrecklessenoughtorun?Gods,Iknewtheanswertothat.Itwasn’timpossible.
“Ifhewashere,though?IfIcouldfindhim,hewouldbedead,”Hymelsaid.“Iwould’veslithisfuckingthroatmyself.”
AndIknewhespokethetruththen.Icouldseeitinthosepaleeyesthatwerefullofsomuchhateandbitterness.
“Gods,”Iwhispered,wantingtobeangrywithClaude,butdamnit,Icouldn’thelpbutberelieved.Atleasthewasn’there.Hewasalive.
AndifIeversawhimagain,I’dpunchhimtoo.
“So,what?Isthatwhatthisisabout?”Iasked,staringintohiseyesasIopenedmysenses.Intuitionshudderedthroughme.“Youthinkyoushouldbebaron,andyouhelpedorchestratethissoyoucantakethetitle?”
“Getthefuckoutofmyhead.”
Disgustfloodedme.“Youdidthisbecauseofyourownenvy?Doyouknowhowmanypeoplediedtonight?”
“Would’vebeenmoreifitweren’tforme,”hesaid.“IftheKinglearnedofyou,andcameforyou,whilethePrinceofVytruswashere?Thewholefuckingcitywouldbegone.Instead,I’vesavedpeopletonight.Notonlythat,Isavedthetitleandthemanorfromgoingbankrupt.Thosedebtors?Theyneedtobepaid,andyou?You’regoingtobringinenoughcointhateverydebtClaudehasrackedupwillbepaidandthensome.So,yeah,Ishould’vebeenthefuckingbaron.”
Istaredathim.Hedidn’tknowtheKingwantedArchwoodwipedoffthemapanyway.Ishookmyhead.“You’reafool.”
“Youreallythinkthat?Youdon’tknowanything.”Hepushedoffmeandrose.Liftingahandtohischeek,hewipedawaythefainttrickleofbloodfromwhereIscratchedhim.“Fuckingbitch,”hemuttered.
Isatup,clutchingtheedgeofthecushion.“Youdidn’ttellthemIcouldreadthoughts,didyou?”
“No.”Heglancedatthedoor.
“Why?”Whenhedidn’tsayanything,itoccurredtome.“It’sbecauseyoudon’ttrusttheHyhborn,doyou?YouwerehopingIwouldlisteninontheirthoughtsandwarnyouiftheywereplanningtobetrayyou?”
Hymeldidn’tanswer,soIrose.Hehadn’tgonefar,andwhenhefacedme,helikelythoughtIwasabouttohithimagain.Heliftedahand,butIwasn’tabouttostrikehim.Instead,IgraspedhishandwithmysenseswideopenandIpushed,shatteringthatshield.
Ididn’tseeorheartheanswertomyquestion.
Isawsomethingelseentirely.
Ifeltit.
Alaughpartedmylips,spillingoutfromme.
Hymeljerkedhishandfree,backingupashestaredatme.“Whatdidyousee?”Theskinabovehisbeardpaled.“Whatdidyousee?”Hetookasteptowardme—
Thedoorbehindhimopenedthen,stoppinghim.Mygazelifted,andmylaughdiedonmylips.ThesightofthecloakedRaewaitinginthehallsentmyheartracing,butwhatcameintothechamberbehindHymelcausedmetotakeastepback.
Thetoo-shallowbreathItookfeltheavier,thicker,andtastedof…ofsomethingIhadn’tthoughtaboutinyears—mintsthePrioressusedtokeepinthepocketsofherrobes.Powersuddenlydrenchedtheair,seepingalongthewallsandacrossthefloor,soakingeverynookandcrannyofthespace.Myskindancedwithstatic.
Cloakedshouldersalmosttoowidetofitfilledtheentrance;themalewassotallhehadtodiphisheadtostepthroughthedoor-frame.Hestraightened,revealingsculpted,sharpfeatures,andhairalight,silveryblond.
Irecognizedhim.
ItwastheHyhbornI’dseenintheGreatChamber,earlierthisevening.He’dlookedatmeandhadsmiled.TheoneIthoughtlookedsomuchlikeLordSamriel,andhedid.Hishairwasshorter,though,reachinghisshoulders,andhisfaceeventhinner,crescent-shaped
“LordArion.”Hymelbowedquickly.
IwouldsweartheluneabladeheatedinitssheathasItookanotherstepback.
“Sothisisher?”LordArionasked,hisappraisalcoolerthanLordSamriel’s.
“Yes,mylord.”
Hisheadtiltedinadistinctivelyserpentlikemanner.“Foryoursake,”hesaidtome,“Ihopeheiscorrect.Mybrotherseemstothinkso,butweshallsee.”
LordArionwassoquick,andtherewasnoplaceformetogo.Hewasstandingbeforemeinaheartbeat,onehandatmythroat,hiseyesidenticaltoLordSamriel’s.“Well,let’snotdelaythis,shallwe?”
“What—?”Igasped.
Hisotherhandflattenedagainstmytemple.Hislipsmoved.HespokelowandquickinalanguagethatsoundedlikeEnochian—
Asuddensharppaindartedacrossthebackofmyskull,thenoverthefrontofmyface.Pressurebuiltinsideme.Icriedout,squeezingmyeyesshutasthepaintraveledthere.Brightwhitelightsexplodedbehindmyclosedlids.Theagony,itfeltlikeafire.Mylegsshook,andIthoughtIwouldfall.ThatI’dfallandbeburnedfromtheinside—
Thenthepaineasedoffasquicklyasithadstarted,leavingonlyadullachebehind,inmytemplesandbelowmybrow.
“Openyoureyes,”LordAriondemanded.
Iblinkedthemopen,halfafraidtodiscoverthatIwasnowblind,butIwasn’t.MyeyeslockedwiththeLord’s.
“MybrothertellsmeyouweregiventothePrioryasababe.”LordArionstareddownatme,hislipsparted.“Hewasright.Theytriedtohideyou,butyou’renolongerhidden.Iseeyouforwhatyouare.”Thegriponmythroatvanished.“Ourliegewillbeverypleasedthatwe’vefoundhimanunboundny’seraph.”
Istumbledback,hittingthesetteebutkeepingmybalance.
LordArionsmiled,turningaway.HespoketotheRaeinEnochian.Halfofthemdepartedquietly,leavingtworemaining.
“Wherearetheygoing?”Hymelasked.
TheLordturnedhisheadtohim.“Theyaregoingtosharethegoodnews.”
“Allright.”Hymelnodded,atentativesmileappearing.“ThenIshouldgotothem,tocloseoutourdeal.”
Slowly,mygazeshiftedtoHymel,andIknewwhenIreadhimmomentsearlierthatwhateverdealHymelhadstruckwiththeHyhborn,ithadn’tbeenawiseone.Hehadn’tlaidoutwhatevertermshe’dagreedtoclearly.Hewasafool.
“Youdidwell.”LordArionfacedHymel,hiscloakflutteringoverthefloorasheapproachedhim.“Ourkingwillbeforeverappreciativeofyourservice.”Hecuppedtheman’scheeks,pressinghislipstoHymel’sforehead.Heliftedhishead.“Itwillnotbeforgotten.”
Hymel’stentativesmilefaded.
Therewasaquietmoment.
Justaheartbeat.
ThecrackofHymel’snecksnappingshatteredthesilence.
IwatchedasHymel…ashecrumpled,justasI’dseen,deadbeforehehitthefloor.CHAPTER38
“Ithinkwe’rebeingfollowed,”GradywhisperedinthedarknessoftheunfamiliarchamberoftheBell’sInn,somewhereintheMidlands.
Welayfacingoneanotheronanarrow,stiff-as-a-boardbed,butatleastitwasanactualbedindoors.We’dspentafewhoursthenightbeforecampedalongsidetheBoneRoadwhilecoyoteshowledandwhinedasiftheycouldsensetheHyhborn’spresenceandwereunsettled.
TheonlyreasonweweretogetherwasbecausetheBell’sInndidn’thavealotofrooms,andtheHyhborn,well,theymighthavecurledtheirlipsattheaccommodations,buttheyweren’talldispleasedwhentheydiscoveredthattheownerofferedmorethanfoodanddrinktohispatrons.Theowner,athinmanwhowentbythenameBuckanddidn’tseemallthatconcernedwhenhespottedmebarefootandGradybloodied,alsohadfleshonthemenu.
Justthen,acryofpleasurecamefromthefloorabove,momentarilyovershadowingthesteadythumpofaheadboardhittingthewall.
TheHyhbornwereclearlyenjoyingthemselves.
Mygazeflickedup,wherethinsliversofmoonlightcrawledacrosstheceiling.Weweresupposedtobesleeping.ThatwasPrinceRohan’sorder,butthethinwallsdidnothingtoblocksound.Wecouldheareverygruntandmoan.
“Gods,”Gradymutteredwearily.“Dotheyeverstopfucking?They’vebeenatitforhours.”
“Ihopenot.”Ipulledmygazefromtheceiling.“Theymayseparateus.”
“Yeah.”Gradysighed,andheshiftedslightly,tryingtogetcomfortable,buthecouldn’tmoveverymuchwithhisarmsboundabovehisheadwithchainsecuredtotheheadboard.
Iwasn’tbound.
BecauseaccordingtothePrince,Iwasn’tbeingheldcaptive.Iwasbeingrescued,andIthoughttheyreallybelievedthat.ButIalsoknewtheyhadnoreasontofearmeattemptingtomakeanescape.Theywerepartlycorrectthere.ThefirstthingIdidthemomenttheyleftwastrytofreeGrady.Ievenusedtheluneabladethey’dyettodiscoveronme,butthechain…itwasconstructedofthesamematerial,andIlearnedthenthatluneacouldnotpierce,crack,orshatteritself.Butagain,theywerepartlycorrect.ThankstoHymel,theyknewIwouldn’tleaveGradybehind.Iglancedathim,hatingthathewasinthissituationbecauseofme.
“Youreyes,”hesaid,voicethick.“Ican’tgetusedtothem.”
Myeyes…
I’dfinallyseenthemwhenwewereplacedinhereandIwasabletousethebathingchamber.Therewasadirtymirrorabovethevanityandthelightintherehadbeendim,butI’dseenthem.Theincandescentblueringscircledmypupils,justliketheybrieflyhadbefore.WhateverglamourthePrioresssupposedlyusedhadhiddenthemalltheseyears,andIdidn’tknowiftheglimpseofthembeforehadbeentheglamourweakeningorsomething.
“Arethey…weird?”Iasked.
“Kindof,”headmitted.“They’realsokindofpretty.”
Ishookmyhead.“Youweresayingyouthinkwe’rebeingfollowed?”
“IheardLordAriontalkingtooneoftheirknightsthisevening,beforewestoppedhere.Ididn’thearwhyhethoughtthis,butthat’swhytheywantedofftheBoneRoadforthenight,”hesaid.
Iswallowed,throatdry.Therehadn’tbeenmuchinthewayoffoodandwater.Justaglassforeachofusandsomethingthatwassupposedtobeabeefstewthatwe’dbeengivenonourarrival.Butifwewerebeingfollowed?Atinybitofhopesprangalive.Wasit…wasitThorne?Andifitwas,whatwouldhappenthen?“Doyouthinkitcouldbe…Thorneandhisknights?”
Gradydidn’tanswerimmediately.“Idon’tknow.”
“NeitherdoI.”Isqueezedmyeyesshut,openingmysensestofindananswertonoavail.“Idon’tseeanything.Idon’tknowifit’sbecauseaHyhbornisfollowingusorifit’sjustthatI’m…I’mtiredand…”Isuckedinashallowbreaththatdidnothingtoalleviatethepressuregatheringinmychestandstomach.“We’rewhat?Abouttwodays’ridefromArchwood?”
“Basedonourpace,probablyalittlefartheroutthanthat,”hereplied.“PrinceThornewentnorth,right?Tomeetwithhisknights.EvenifhemanagedtostillreturntoArchwoodwhenheexpectedto,hewouldstillbeatleastadayorsobehindus.”
Whateverlittlehopehadsparkedwasquicklyextinguishedasthethumpingcontinuedoverhead.NotonlywouldThornehavetohaveriddenlikehelltocatchupwithus,therewasthistroublePrinceRohanhadensuredThorneandhisknightswouldencounter.
TherewasalsothefactthatThornehadnoreasontocomeforme.Hehadnoknowledgeofmebeingthisny’seraph.Ididn’tevenknowwhatitwas.Thejourneyhadbeenatense,silentone.ThatwashowPrinceRohanpreferredit.
Anothergutturalmoanechoedfromabove.
Atleast,thatwashowthePrincepreferreditupuntilnow.
“Butifitishim?PrinceThorne?”Gradysaidafterafewmoments.“I’mnotsurethat’sgoingtobearescue.”
Iclosedmyeyesasthatpressureincreased,feelingasifitwoulddragmethroughthebed.I’dtoldGradyeverythingwhileItriedtofreehim.Istillcouldn’twrapmyheadaroundtheideaofThornekillingme,especiallywhenIfeltsafewithhim.Iwasn’tafraidofhim.
Buthealsodidn’tknowwhatIwas,Iremindedmyself.ThatcouldchangethemomenthediscoveredthatIwasthis…thisthingthatbasicallystrippedhimofhisimmortality.Whywasthateventhecase?TherewassomuchIdidn’tunderstandorknow,anditmadethisallthemorefrustrating.
“Lis?”
Iopenedmyeyes.“Yeah?”
“Youlikehim,don’tyou?”
“Gods,”Imutteredasapiercingpainhitmychest.He’daskedthisbefore,butitfeltdifferentnow.Morereal.Harsher.
“Lis,”hesaid,andthesorrowinthewayhesaidmyname,thesympathyand…“DoyourememberwhenIwasgettingwithJoshua?”
Istiffened.“Yeah,ofcourseIdo.”
“Anddoyourememberwhatyoutoldme?”
“Tostopmessingaroundwithsomeonewhowasmarried?”
Hehuffedoutadrylaugh.“Besidesthat.YoutoldmetocutitoffbeforeIgotdeeperandgothurt.”
“Yeah,”Isaid,thinkingofthehandsomebanker.“Andyoudidn’tlisten,ifIrecall.”
“Iknow.”Therewasapause.“I’mtellingyouthesamething.”
“What?It’snotlikethat.It’snowherenearlikeyouandJoshua—”
“Youandthisprincemaynothaveknowneachotherlong.Youmightnothavebeenpretendingmake-believelikeJoshuaandIwere,butIknowyou,Lis.Youdon’tgetinterestedinanyone.Itmightbebecauseyoucouldtouchhim.Itmightbewhateverthefuckyouaretohimandhe’stoyou,but—”
“Okay.Iunderstandwhatyou’resaying.Ido.ButwhatIfeelordon’tfeelforhimdoesn’tmatter.”Irolledontomyback.“Wehavewaybiggerproblemstodealwith.”
“You’reright.Itdoesn’t.”Hisexhalewasheavy.“Whatdoesisthatyouneedtogetoutofhere.”
Alltirednessvanishedinaninstant.“What?”
“You’renotbound.Youcanescape.There’sawindowrightaboveusthatlookslikeitcanbeeasilyopened,”hesaid.“Youshould’vealreadymadearunforit.”
Iturnedmyheadtowardhim.“Areyououtofyourmind?”
“Lis—”
“I’mnotleavingyou.Gods,Ican’tbelieveyouwouldevensuggestthatagain.ThatyouwouldthinkI’dbeokaywithdoingthat…”Itrailedoff,suddenlyunderstandingNaomi’sanger.Naomi.Mybreathsnagged.IstoppedmyselfbeforeIcouldlearnofherfuture,likeI’ddonethelasttwodays.Ididn’twanttoknow,becauseIneededtobelievethatshewasalive.Thatshe’dgonetohersister’shouseandthatitremaineduntoucheddespitethefactthatIknewLaurelinwouldn’tlivetoseetheendoftheFeasts.Thatthisattackcouldhavebeenwhatendedherlife.
Ijustneededthatlittlepieceofhope,becauseIknewwhenIclosedmyeyesagain,IwouldseewhatIhadwhenwe’dbeentakenfromthemanor.ThebodiesofstaffandguardsI’dseeneverydayinpieces.Bodiesstrewnaboutthelawn,litbymoonlight.Andthecity?Homeshadbeenburningandthepathtothecitygateshadbeenclutteredwithstone,brokenwood,and…andshatteredbodies.Somanybodies,lowbornandHyhborn.Theold.Theyoung,somethatwere—
“WhathappenedinArchwoodwasn’tyourfault.”Gradyinterruptedthespiralofmythoughts.
Clampingmymouthshut,Iscrubbedmyhandsdownmyface,wipingawaythedampnessthathadfounditswaytomylashes.
“Iknowthat’swhatyou’vebeenthinking.It’snot,”hesaid,voicelowandhard.“TheKingdidn’twantArchwooddefended.Hewantedthecitydestroyed.PrinceThornetoldyouthat.”
Iflinchedatthesoundofhisname.
“Archwoodwasfuckedwhetherornotyoueversetfootinthatcity.”
Droppingmyhandstomystomach,Ishookmyhead.“Well,itwasmightyconvenientthatPrinceRohancameformethesamenighttheylaidwastetoacity.”
“Itwasn’tconvenient.ItwasfuckingHymel.WhatwasgoingtohappentoArchwoodwasgoingtogodown.Theyjusttooktwobirdswithonestone.”
MaybeGradywasright.ThatArchwoodwould’vefallennomatterwhat,andifHymelhadnevergonetotheHyhborn,thenwemighthavediedthatnightinArchwood.Maybewewould’veescaped.Ididn’tknow.
ButwhatIwassureabout?WhatIneedednointuitiontoknow?Gradywouldn’tbeinthissituation,hislifehangingonwhetherornotIdispleasedtheHyhborn.Hewouldn’tbehere,forbetterorworse,ifitweren’tforme.
TheonlythingIcoulddonowwasmakesurethatGradygotoutofthisinonepiece,andIwould,evenifitwasthelastthingIeverdid.
Ididn’trememberdozingoff,butImusthave,becauseIwassuddenlywideawakeandmyheartwaspounding.
Thechamberwasquiet—theentireinnwassilent,butsomethingwokeme.
“Lis?”Gradynudgedmylegwithhisknee.“Therewasscreaming.”
Swallowing,Iturnedmyheadtowardhim,abletomakeoutthelineofhisprofile.Hisheadwastippedback.Ifollowedhisgazetotheceiling,wheretherewasnothingbutsilence.Achillskateddownmyspineasthestreamsofmoonlightretreatedfromtheceiling,slippingacrossthebeamsandoutthewindow—
Thegaslanterninthebathingchambersuddenlyturnedon.Everymuscleinmybodytensed.Theglowpulsed.Icedrenchedmyinsidesasthelamponthetableflickeredtolife,pulsingwildly.Airlodgedinmythroatastheairallarounduschargedwithstatic—withpower.
“TheHyhborn,”Iwhispered.“Somethingisgoing—”
Acrypiercedthesilence,suddenandabrupt.
Sittingup,IgraspedthefrontofGrady’stunic.Theairwastornapartbyashrillshout,thenanotherscream…andanother.
“What’shappening?”Gradygasped,strainingagainstthechains.
“Idon’tknow.”Heartthumping,Iscrambledtomykneesandpeeredoutthewindow,butIsawnothingbutdarkness.Ijerkedbackfromthewindowatthesoundofaskin-chillingwailthatendedsharply.Thathadcomefromoutside,inthedistanceofwhatevervillagewe’dentered.
Twisting,Islippedoffthebedandstood,wincingassoremusclesprotested.Breathingraggedly,Ireachedforthedagger—
“Don’t,”Gradywarned.“Keepitonyouandrun,Lis.Please.Fuckingmakearunforit.”
Myfingerscurledaroundemptyairasashrieksentashudderofdreadthroughme.Ibackedup,eachbreathfeelingtooshallow,tooquick.Turning,Icrawledbackintobed.
“Lis,please,”Gradybegged,hisvoicethickening.
Shakingmyhead,Istretchedoutbesidehim,pressingmyfacetohischestasIgrippedhistuniconcemore.
Thenthescreamingbeganinearnest.CHAPTER39
Don’tlook.
That’swhatIkepttellingmyselfasIwasledthroughtheinn,keepingmygazetrainedonthebacksoftheRaeandtheHyhbornknights.MylegsandarmswereshakingsobadlyIwassurprisedIcouldactuallyputonefootinfrontoftheother.
Gradyhadbeentakenfromthechamberafewminutesafterthose…thosescreamshadstopped.Ididn’tseePrinceRohanorLordSamrielasIwalked,LordArionbesideme.
Don’tlook.
Butthetaproomfloorwasstickyandslickbeneathmybarefeetandtherewasasmellherethathadn’tbeenwhenweenteredearlierthatnight.Abiting,metallicscentmixedwithatoo-sweetone.Pungent.Overwhelming.
Ilooked.
Myeyesskatedtomyright,andIstumbledasIsawtheowner.Buck.IsawothersIdidn’tknowthenamesof.Somewerehalfdressed.Othersdidn’thaveastitchofclothingonthem,butallofthemwerenothingmorethanbodiesnow.
Bodiesweresplayedacrosstables,missinglimbs,andothershungfromthesecondfloor,drapedovertherailingofthestaircase.Therewassomuchblood.Itlookedlikeawildanimalhadgottenaholdofthem,clawingopentheirchestsandstomachs,leavingtheirinsidesontheoutside.Hangingfromthem.Inclumpsandpoolsonthefloorbehindthem.Someone…someonewasburninginthefireplace.I’dseensomuchviolence,butthiswas—
Bilerosesoquicklytherewasnostoppingit.Iturned,bendingasIvomitedwaterandwhatremainedofthestewI’deatenhoursago.IheaveduntilmylegsgaveoutandIhitthebloodiedflooronmyknees,untilmystomachcrampedandtearsstreameddownmyface.
LordArionwaitedsilentlythroughitall,speakingonlyonceIquieted.“Isthatall?”heaskedasIshook.“Orwilltherebemoreyettocomeup?”
Ishookmyhead.Therewasnothingleftinsideme.
“Thenstand.Wemustbeonourway.”
Irockedback.Ididn’tknowanyofthese…thesepeople,buttherewasnothingtheycould’vedonetodeservethis.
“Whydidthishappen?”Irasped,throatsore.Ihadtoknowwhatcoulddrivealivingcreaturetobethiscrueltoanother,becauseIcouldn’tfathomsuchdestructiveevil.Itdidn’tmatterwhatI’dseeninArchwood.Thisbrutalitywassomethingelseentirely.“Whydidyoualldothistothem?”
Therewasaheavysigh,oneofboredomorimpatience,maybeboth.“Whynot?”
Istaredathimindisbelief.
“Iwaskidding,”hesaidasifthatsomehowwasbetter.“Oneofourknightsgotabitoutofhand.Thescreamingstarted,andwell,PrinceRohanisnotafanofsuchannoyances.Iftheyhadonlystayedsilent,theymighthavelivedtoseethesunrise.”
“They…theywereslaughteredbecausesomeonescreamed?”Myvoicepitchedhigh.
“Icanseethatanswerdispleasesyou,”LordArionnoted.“Willithelpyouregainyourfootingtoknowthatmostofthetownhasbeenleftuntouched?BecauseIdohopeso.”
Mostofthetown?IthoughtofthewailsGradyandIhadheardcomingfromoutsidetheinn.Weretheonesnotsoluckyleftlikethis?SplitopenandlefttorotwhenthesundidriseliketheyhadbeeninArchwood?
“Doyounotcareforlowbornatall?”Iasked,eventhoughIknewtheanswer.OrIthoughtIdid.IknewthattheKinghadtakenlittleinterestinus,butthiswas…itwentbeyondanythingIbelievedtheHyhborncapableof.“DoestheKingthinkthisisokay?”
“TheKingabhorsviolence,”LordArionreplied.“Healsoabhorsdensofviceandsin.Hewouldseethisforwhatitis.Acleansing.Therewasnolifeofvaluelosttonight.Now,weneedtocontinue.”
Abone-deeprageunfurled,chasingawaythecoldnessofterroranddisbelief.Mythroatburnedwithmyfury.“Fuckyou.”
Fairbrowsroseabovetheblack-and-greeneyes.ThatwasallIhadachancetosee.Hemovedsofast.
Theblowhelandedstungmycheekandlip,knockingmetotheside.Ithrewoutmyhands,catchingmyselfbeforeIhitthefloor.Burning,throbbingpainradiatedacrossmyjaw,upthesideofmyhead.BloodsoakedmypalmsasIbreathedthroughtheringinginmyears.
Goodgods….
Thiswasn’tthefirsttimeinmylifeI’dbeenstruck,butI’dneverbeenhitsohardthatIcouldhearringinginmyears.
Bloodcoatedtheinsideofmymouth.Ispat,wincingatthesharpspikeofpainfromatearinmylip.Itentativelyranmytonguealongmylips,halfsurprisedthatnoteethhadbeenknockedfree.
“Lookatme.”Hiswhispertouchedmyskinlikeabreathofwinter.
Idrewback,suckinginashortbreathasIliftedmyheadtotheLordoncemore.Thelamplightwasbrighthere—brighterthanafewsecondsbefore.Tinyhairsalongthenapeofmyneckroseaspowerchargedtheair.
Hissmilegrew.“Listentome.”
BeforeIcouldtakeanotherbreath,hisvoicereachedinsidemeandseizedcontrol.Anunseenweightsettledonmyanklesfirstandthentraveledupmylegs,circlingmywaistandwrists,slippingovermyshoulders.Aquick,sharppainlancedmyskull,andthenthepressurewasthere,fillingmymind,andeverybreathItooktastedof…ofmint.
Thecenterofhiseyes—wheretheblotsofgreenringedhispupils—brightenedandexpandeduntilonlyathinstripofblackwasvisible.“Stand,”LordArioncommanded.
Ididn’twantto.Everypartofmybeingrebelledagainstit,butmybodymovedwithoutconsciouseffort.He’dseizedcontrolofmybody—mywill.Irose.
TheLordbrushedhiscloakaside,graspingtheblackhiltofasword.Lamplightglintedofftheluneabladeashewithdrewit,levelingthepointedendatmychest.“Walkforward.”
Afootlifted,thenanother.
Hesmirked.“Farther.”
MyheartthunderedasIstaredatthewickedlysharpedgeofthesword.Hewas…hewasgoingtohavemeimpalemyself?No.Iwouldn’tdothis.Icouldn’tdothis.No,Iwhispered,thenscreamedthesingleword,overandover,butnoneofthosesoundsmadeittomytongue.Myhandsopenedatmysides,fingerssplayingwide.
“Interesting,”theLordmurmured.“Lookatmenow.”
Pressureexpandedinmyhead,sendingspikesofagonythroughmytemplesuntilmygazereturnedtohis.Onlythendidthepainretreat.
Thegreeninhiseyespulsed.“Walkforward.”
Myfeetdraggedacrossthebloodiedfloor.Onefoot.Thentheother—andasudden,sharppainradiatedacrosstherightsideofmychest,stealingmybreathevenasItookanotherstep.
“Stop,”hedemanded.
Istopped.
TheLordpulledtheswordback,holdingitupbetweenus.Theverytipwasglossywithblood—myblood.“Icouldorderyoutoslityourownthroatonthisbladeandyou’ddoit.”Heloweredit,restingthesharpbladeagainstthebaseofmythroat.“Icouldhaveyouonyourkneesandyourmoutharoundmydick.Icouldhaveyoutakethisswordandgofromhousetohouse,disembowelingthosewhosleep.Doyouunderstandme?”
Disgustjoinedtheminttasteinmymouthasmylipsmoved.“Yes.”
“Good.”TheLordinchedthesworddown.“Now,didyougetagoodenoughlookatthosearoundyou?”
“Yes,”Ibreathed.
“Youcaneitherdowhatyou’retoldorlivetoregretnotdoingso.You’veseenallthemany,manywaystofindregret.Startingwithyourbravefriend.Doyouunderstand?Say,‘Yes,mylord.’”
“Yes.”Mythroatachedasthewordsleftme.“Mylord.”
Hedrewtheswordoverthesmallpuncturewound,draggingaraggedgaspfromme.“Theonlycontrolyouhavenowisinwhathappensfromthismomentuntilyou’rehandedovertoourliege.Myordersaretobringyoutohimaliveandinsomewhatgoodcondition.Nothingwassaidaboutyourfriend.HeislivingonlyonthegenerosityofPrinceRohanandyouractions.”
Myhandstwitchedasthetipoftheswordgrazedtheswellofmybreastandthenthecurveofmystomachbeforepointingtothefloor.
TheLord’sclose-lippedsmilereturnedashesheathedhissword.“ItcaneitherbepleasantorIcanhaveyoubeggingfordeatheverymomentbetweennowandthen.Doyou,mydear,understand?”
Mylipsmovedoncemore.“Yes.”
Thegreenringsshrankuntiltheywereoncemorejustblotchesinthedarknessofhiseyes.Theweightentrenchedintomybodyliftedwithoutwarning,slippingfrommyanklesandwristsandthenmymind.Thefuzzinessclearedfrommythoughtsashis—hispowerretracteditsholdonme.Nowhavingfeltwhatacompulsionwaslike,IunderstoodtheterrorI’dseenonGrady’sfacewhenwewerechildrenandhe’dbeenunderone.Istaggeredback,breathingheavily.
“Now,it’stimeforustogo.”
Slowly,Iturnedaround,mymovementsstiffandjerky.AtremorhadstartedinmyhandsandhadmadeitswaythroughouttheentiretyofmybodyasItooknoteofthesmallcircleofbloodthatstainedthechestofmyrobe.ItwasnothingcomparedtowhatI’dseen—comparedtowhatIknewthislordwascapableof.Iwalkedoutintotheclouded,coolernightsky.
Thecourtyardwasempty.
IbarelyfeltthecoldgroundbeneathmyfeetasIsearchedforanysignofGradyandtheothers.Ididn’tseethem.PanictookrootasallIsawbeyondthestonefencingwastheoutlineofamassiveblacksteed,oneaslargeasthehorsesI’dseenattheArchwoodstables.“Whereishe?Wherearetheothers?”
“Youwillseehimagain.”TheLordstrodepast,graspingmyarmintheprocess.Hisgripwasbruising,butIdidn’tprotest.Themanhandlingwasfarbetterthanhimusinganothercharmandmakinggoodononeofhismanythreats.“HewastakenaheadwiththePrinceandmybrother.”
Confusionrose,andthenIrememberedwhatGradyhadsaid.“We’rebeingfollowed,aren’twe?”
“We’rebeingcautious,”theLordsaidwithachuckle,andIflinched,remindedofLordSamriel’sapathy.“Ifweare,they’llfollowthePrince.Notus.”
MyheartthuddedasIenteredtheempty,darkstreet.IhadtoremindmyselfthatHyhborncouldn’tlie.IfhesaidtheRaeweretakinghimaheadofus,thenthatwaswhatwashappening.Gradywasstrongandclever.Ifhehadachancetoescape,hewould.IlatchedontothatastheLordgrippedmebythewaistandhoistedmeupontothehorse.
TheLordswungupontothesaddlebehindme.“Askanotherquestionofme?”hesaid,pickingupthehorse’sreins.“Andyouwillfindyourselfoccupyingyourmouthinawaythatwillbelessgratingtome.”
Iclampedmyjawshut,andthathurt,causinghalfofmyfacetothrob.Whydidmen,nomatterwhattheywere,alwaysresorttosuchthreats?Asifthreateningourliveswouldn’tbeenoughtoensurecooperation?Myfingersdugintothepommelofthesaddle.
“Donotfall,”heinstructed.“Itwillannoymeifyoudo,andyoudon’twantthattooccur.”
Withthat,hedughisheelsintothesteed’ssides,andthehorselaunchedintomovement.Refusingtouseanypartofthemonsterbehindmeassupport,Iheldontothepommel.Thepacequicklypickedupandwewererushingthroughthedarkstreets,forcingmetoclampmythighsagainstthesaddletostayupright.Myheartsankassoonaswereachedtheendofthestreet.
Anorangeglowroseabovethehill,andthescentofburntwoodgrew.Smokepouredintothenight,blanketingtheroads.Itriedtoseewhatkindofdamagehadbeendone,butthehorsechargedon,turningthestreetsoftheunnamedvillageintoablur.
Asweapproachedtheopen,unguardedgatesofthevillage,thecloudsbegantobreakapart.Silverymoonlightflowedovertheroad,washingoverlumpsscatteredattheedges.Shapesthatwere—
Mystomachcramped.Deadcityguardslayscatteredabout.Dozensofthemasweleftthevillage,thehorse’spaceneverslowing.
Goodgods,howmanyhaddiedtonight?Ishuddered.Andallthesedeaths…Wastheirbloodonmyhands?LikethebloodthePrinceofVytruscarriedonhis?
No.Thatonewordburnedthroughme,forgingmyspineintosteel.I’ddonenothingtocausethis.Norhadanyofthosewho’dsufferedtonight.ThiswasontheHyhborn.Gradywasright.Iwasn’tresponsibleforArchwoodeither.TheonlythingI’ddonewasbeborn,butIwasn’tcompletelyfreefromguilt.
Icaredaboutothers,butIobviouslyhadn’tcaredenough.BecauseIneverpaidattentiontoCourtpoliticswheneverotherbaronsvisitedwithnewsandgossip.WhateverIgleanedfromthemforClaudeIquicklyforgotabout.Ididn’tpayallthatmuchattentionwhennewsoftheWestlandsunrestfirstbroke.Iusedmyabilitieswhenasked,whenitservedme,orsimplybyaccident.Icould’veworkedharderatcrackingthatshieldthatsurroundedClaudeandHymel,andIwould’vebeenableto,sinceI’ddoneitwithCommanderRhazielwithouttouchinghim.Icould’velearnedwhatHymelwasupto,butI’dbeentooafraid—notjustforGradybutformyself.Ihadn’twantedtojeopardizemylifeandalltheprivilegesI’dobtained,whetherwarrantedornot.I’dbeenlookingoutforhimandmyself.Iwastoowrappedupinmyownlifeandmyownfears.Icould’vedonemore.ThereweresomanychoicesIcould’vemadethatwould’vechangedandmaybeevenpreventedwhathadbecomeofArchwood.
Whathadhappenedhere.
SohowwasIanybetterthantheKingattheendoftheday?JustbecauseIcareddidn’tmakemedifferent,becauseIhadn’tcaredenough.AndthegodsknewIwasn’ttheonlylowbornwhostuckherheadinthesand,butIhadbeeninapositionofprivilege,ofprotection,whereIcould’vedonemore,andIhadn’t.IthoughtofhowI’dwarnedGradytonotgetinvolvedwiththeIronKnights.Ihaddonetheexactoppositeofmore.BecauseIdidn’twanttoriskendinguponthestreetsagain.Howdidthatmakemeanybetter?
Itreallydidn’t.
Thefactthatithadtakenthisformetorealizethatsickenedme,becausenowIhadtolivewiththosechoices.
Andwhoknewhowmanyotherswouldhavetobecauseofthem.
WestayedontheroadforashortperiodoftimebeforeLordArionguidedthesteedintomoonlight-drenchedmeadowswithabrutalurgingofhisknees.
Tallthistleweedslashedatmylegs,stingingmyskin,butitwasnothingcomparedtothethrobbinginmychestandacrossmyjaw,norcoulditcomparetothemountingdreadofwhatwastocome.Themeadowseemedendless,mythoughtsstaggeringoveroneanotherasItriedtopiecetogetherwhatIknewtofigureoutwhatwascoming.HowIcouldsomehowmakebetter…betterchoicesbutstillprotectGrady—stillgethimoutofthissituation.
Icywaterjerkedmefrommythoughts,soakingmyfeetandtheedgesofmyclothingaswecrossedanarrowstream.Theshiveringratchetedupasthesteedclimbedthesteepbankandcarriedusintothe…theWychwoods.
Deargods,therewerethingsinthesewoodspossiblyevenmorefrighteningthantheHyhbornlordbehindme.
WhenIglanceddownatthepackedearth,asillyyetslightlyterrifyingthoughtoccurredtome.WeretherestillDeminyensinthesewoods,beingcreateddeepunderground?Gods,thinkingaboutthatdidn’thelpanything.
Ididn’tknowhowmuchtimehadpassed.AllIcouldfocusonwasstayingatopthehorseandnotfallingbeneathhishoovesasheracedatneck-breakingspeedsthroughthemazeoftrees.Iheldon,evenaseverypartofmybodyprotested—asmyhandsandthighsached.OnlywhenthetreesbecametoocrowdedtogetherdidLordArionslowthehorseenoughthatIdidn’tfeelasifIwouldfallatanygivensecond.
Butmygripdidn’trelent,notevenasthepiecesofskyvisiblethroughtheheavylimbslightened,shiftingthroughallshadesofblue.Iheldon.
Thehorseslowedevenmore,eventuallycomingtoanearstop.Wearily,IturnedmyheadtowardtheLord.HewasstaringupatthethickclustersoftreestallerthananybuildingI’deverseen.Ifollowedhisgazetowherethefaintlightofdawnstruggledtopenetratetheheavilyleafedbranches.ThesteedblewoutraggedbreathsasLordArionshiftedinthesaddle—
Somethinghissedthroughtheair.ReinssnappedfreefromtheLord’sgripashepitchedforwardwithoutwarning.Hecrashedintome,andmynumbfingersslippedfromthepommel.Hissuddenweighttookbothofusoffthesaddle.
IhitthegroundwithajarringthudIcouldfeelinmybones.Ilaythere,stunnedforaheartbeat,staringatthepatchesof…ofdeepvioletgrass.I’dneverseensuchgrassbefore.
Butthatreallywasn’timportantatthemoment.
LordArion…hewassprawledhalfontopofme,unmoving.GatheringeverybitofstrengthIhad,Irolledhimoff.Hefloppedontohisside,onearmstilllyingacrossmystomach.Ilookedathisface—
“Holyshit,”IwhisperedatthesightofthearrowembeddeddeepbetweenLordArion’seyes.
Tossinghisarmoffmystomach,IscuttledbackacrossthegroundasIstaredattherapidlyexpandingpoolofredbeneathhishead.Helookeddead,butIdidn’tknowhowpowerfulthislordwas.Ididn’tknowifhewasonlyunconsciousorwhetherthatarrowheadthroughhisbrainwasenoughtokillhim.Thatmilky-whitearrowhead—
Acallcamefromthetrees.LordArion’ssteedtookoff,itshoovespoundingintothegroundinchesfromme.Ipushedontomyknees,twistingtowardthesoundofthesharpwhistle.Throughmytangledstrandsofhair,Isawadarkshapefallfromthetrees—no,thedarkshapeshadflownfromabove.
Ravens.
Dozensofthem.
Theirblackwingscutsilentlythroughtheairastheyflewinrapidcircles,comingcloserandclosertoeachotherwitheverypassuntilthey…theycametogetherfeetabovetheground,merginginto…intoone.
Intothefigureofamancrouchedseveralfeetahead,hisdarkcloakpoolingoverthevioletgrasslikesmoke.
Ashivertiptoeditswaydownmyspine,thenspreadoutovermyskin.Thatfeelingcameoverme,theoneIfirstfeltasachild.
Awarning.
Areckoning.
Thepromiseofwhatwastocome.
Butthistime,somethingunlockedinmymind,andoutofitsdarkness,avisionI’dneverhadbeforeswampedme,andinaflash,IsawwhatLordSamrielclaimed.
Isawhisarms,hishandwrappedaroundthehiltofthebladeplungeddeepintomychest—
Acrytorefrommythroat.Death.I’dseenmine.I’dseenitcomeathishands.
“Move.Move,move,”Iwhispered,tryingtogetmyfrozenmusclestounlock.“Move.”
Herosetothatimpossible,intimidatingheightasIshovedtomyfeet.Spinningaround,ItookoffasfastasIcould,runningbacktowardthecreek.Iran,armsandlegspumpingasrocksdugintothesolesofmyfeet.Branchesslappedatmyhairandcheeks,snaggingmyrobeandnightgown.Everystephurt,butIdidn’tstop.TherewasnotimetothinkaboutwhereIwasgoingorthefruitlessnessof—
Abodycollidedwithmine,knockingmylegsoutfromunderneathme.Foramoment,Iwasweightlessandfalling;thenarmssnappedaroundmine.Thebodytwisted,andIwassuddenlynolongerstaringatthehardgroundracinguptowardme,butatthetrees.
Welandedhard,thebodybeneathminetakingthebruntofthefall,buttheimpactstillknockedthewindoutofme,andforamoment,neitherofusmoved.Thenherolledmeontomystomach.Weightpressedontomyback,trappingtheentirelengthofbody.Myfingerscurledintothedampgrass.
“Na’laa,”hewhispered.“Youshould’veknownbetterthantorun.Iwillalwayscatchyou.”
Idraggedinashallowbreath.A…awoodsy,softsmellsurroundedme.Thescentof…sandalwood.
Ofhim.
MyHyhbornprince.Mysalvation.
Andmydoom.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Iwanttothankmyagent,KevanLyon;thewonderfulteamatBramble:AliFisher,DiannaVega,DeviPillai,AnthonyParisi,GiselleGonzalez,SaracieaFennell,MoniquePatterson,JessicaKatz,StevenBucsok,HeatherSaunders,andRafalGibek;andMelissaFrainforhelpingbringCalistaandThornetolife.
Ahugethank-youtoMalissaformakingsurethingswerestillgettingdonewhileIwaswriting.Anotherbigthank-youtoJenF.andStephforlettingmebounceideasoffofyouguys.VonettaandMona—youguysarethebest.
AndthemembersofJLAnders?Youguysrock,asalways.
Noneofthiswould’vebeenpossiblewithoutyou,thereader.THANKYOU.ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
JenniferL.ArmentroutisaNo.1NewYorkTimesandinternationalbestsellingauthorandlivesinShepherdstown,WestVirginia.Whenshe’snothardatworkwriting,shespendshertimereading,watchingbadzombiemovies,pretendingtowriteandhangingoutwithherhusbandandhersmallmenagerie.ThisincludesherBorderCollie,Artemis,andherBorderJack,Apollo.Alsosixjudgmentalalpacas,tworudegoatsandfivefluffysheep.
Inearly2015,Jenniferwasdiagnosedwithretinitispigmentosa,agroupofraregeneticdisordersthatinvolveabreakdownanddeathofcellsintheretina,eventuallyresulting,amongothercomplications,invisionloss.Sincethisdiagnosis,educatingpeopleonthevaryingdegreesofblindnesshasbecomeanotherpassionforher–rightalongsidewriting,whichsheplanstodoforaslongasshecan.Jenniferhasbeennominatedforandwonnumerousawardsforheryoungadultandadultfiction.
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FallofRuinandWrathFirstpublished2023byTomDohertyAssociates/TorPublishingGroup
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