Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ASTER
T he shadows that surrounded me, once a source of power and protection, were cumbersome. They taunted me all night. They even whispered lies, hissing to me about the intimacy I’d refused Morgana of.
My shadows were honest, most of the time. Other times, they played tricks. They told me stories to get a reaction, and unfortunately for me, they whispered sweet nothings about what she desired. The lies were brutal. They were daunting as I let the sunlight bleed over me. I closed my eyes, trying to shake the imagery that still played in front of my mind. That one touch, that one moment changed everything. I didn’t know how to handle it. Morgana’s presence, it was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Every time I saw her, I was reminded of the desire that I was struggling to suppress, and the danger it posed. It was everything I’d been taught to defy.
Desire.
Danger poisoned my tongue, and I twisted toward the doors and walked back inside. The servants were hustling about, readying the carriage for our journey to the trainyard. I couldn’t focus on desire. I needed to focus on the realm and the curse that threatened the lives of my people. The curse that threatened me . Within seconds, any thought of Morgana vanished when my cousin turned the corner and grinned at me. I frowned in return, stopping in my place as he walked over to me.
“Greetings, cousin,” he boomed and placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked at it with an even deeper frown, but he gave me a shake before letting it drop. He still smelled of wine and sweat. “We missed you last night.”
There was a honey-suckled lie riddling his tone. I twisted my lips into a smile. “I am not one for parties, Atlas. You know this.”
He leaned forward, winking. “But I heard you did so well at the banquet weeks ago.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, aimed to grab the rest of my things. I didn’t have the energy to ask how he knew about that, or where he heard it from. Atlas cleared his throat. I lurched to a halt and let my head hang forward, a deep sigh expelling past my lips. “What is it, Atlas?”
“Your plaything quite enjoys the wine of our country, Prince Aster.”
Every muscle in my body tensed, and I turned slowly to stare at him. He was beaming in my direction, drawing that wretched tea cup to his lips to sip at it. “I beg your pardon?”
Atlas inched closer, flourishing his cup dramatically. Tea splashed onto his hand and ground from the movement, but in true Atlas fashion, he didn’t care. He didn’t even acknowledge it. “I said she likes the wine of our country. I heard the tittering servants gossip about it after you two snuck off to that dank den you hide in. Shame about the fire though.”
“You’d be wise to silence those servants,” I hissed. “What do you care about her taste in wine? You remember my instruction, correct? Do not go near the girl.”
“Oh, you know me. Curious as a cat, I am!” he said with a sickening laugh. He sipped at the tea, slurping, and hummed. “Well, I hope you can find it to forgive me, Aster. She just seemed so sad when I met her outside the fountain the morning after the fire. I know you have a way with women. They always leave you in shambles.”
“What did you do?” I asked in a calm rage.
He leaned forward, his smirk fading into the sort of seriousness I rarely saw him possess. “Oh, nothing, cousin.” He moved past me, but stopped at my shoulder to whisper. “I would never dream of ruining her virtue. Though, she did seem to enjoy watching the servants copulate. It excited her, I think. Are we certain she has any virtue at all?”
I saw red. Dark red. I didn’t care about her virtue. I didn’t care if she’d taken to the streets in order to survive—I was of the opinion that what people did behind closed doors was rarely my business. However, something about the insinuated abuse he teased—as if her well-being was a game. I was no fool. If he was sleeping in the same walls, he would have made it a point to meet her. I doubt I would have been able to prevent that even if I kept her locked away.
He’d already started walking off before I stormed after him and grabbed him by the short hair on his head. He stumbled backward. If I was in the business of making more of a scene, I would have made sure he fell onto his back and shattered that teacup. But I merely yanked his shirt in my fist and seethed in his face. “Talk to me about her virtue again if you intend to use it as a threat, cousin. Tell me about how she likes to watch you manipulate the shadows so those servants turn wild with yearning desire. You’ve taken advantage of her, and that is something I cannot forgive.”
“Oh, I had little influence on the debauchery last night. This was all wine and need, cousin. She loved it.”
I bared my teeth, shoving him back and pointed a finger at him. “If you so much as look at her again, I will send you into the darkest depths of Vespera. I will ensure you never see the light of day.”
“Come on.” He regained his composure. “You’ve grown soft on me, Aster. Lighten up. After all, it was only a kiss.”
My face went cold. Straight, expressionless anger that colored me white. Atlas sipped his tea and turned on a heel, walking away from me as I stared after him. I thought about chasing him down and showing him why I was heir, what sort of power coursed through my veins, but I let him disappear down the stairs. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, reminding myself of his lies.
His silver tongue.
I turned toward the exit to watch the servants ready the carriage. Then, Morgana appeared from the eastern wing with a bag in hand. She took a long look at me before scurrying toward the doors, but the guards moved in the way. She tensed. When I nodded, they moved and she turned over her shoulder to acknowledge me before slipping outside toward the carriage.
I sighed, closed my eyes, and prayed that Atlas spoke lies. I did not care what Morgana chose to do in her free time, but Atlas was a danger to the crown. If it weren’t for his birthright, I would have sent him to the gallows long ago. He was a threat, and he’d done terrible things to get a leg up.
If Morgana was in his sight, I knew that threat put her in grave danger.
Gods. I’d kill him if he tried anything with her.
He just needed to test me.
Wretched, raw dread pulsated between us as the carriage lurched forward, taking us closer to the train yard. Morgana sat across from me, her eyes downcast and her hands folded together. The drawn curtains cast a gloom over her warm, golden skin, and when her chestnut eyes lifted to capture mine, I went as far as to offer a smile.
My tone, however, was anything but saccharine. I couldn’t help myself as the words spilled out of me. “Did you have fun last night?”
Her eyes narrowed, but the warm undertones turned pallid as the color rushed from her face. Her lips parted, cracked and dry, but her voice was the most brittle thing of all. I wanted to pour water down her throat at the first scratchy word. “That depends on what you’re implying, Prince Aster. What part are you asking about?”
With an arched brow, I looked her up and down and shook my head. “My cousin should not be trusted, Morgana. Are you such a poor judge of character? He’s practically a walking death sentence.”
“Are you any more trustworthy?”
I flinched, if only in the slightest way, and nodded once. “If there is anybody in the castle walls you can trust, it is your captor. I have a reason to keep you alive, after all.”
“And that reason becomes muddier and muddier the more time passes by.”
I sighed through my nose—deep, heavy, prolonged—and nodded again. A stiff acknowledgement of her distrust. “You can spend your days wondering what sort of evil man stole you off the streets because you have piss-poor magic and a background in analyzing dead bodies, but you will not spend your days scheming with a would-be usurper who, if forced, would rather have my head than a crown.”
She settled deeper into her seat and turned her chin away from me, aimed at the window. Her leg started bouncing, mouth opening and shutting for at least three minutes as she chewed on her thoughts. I let her, in silence. I would make no motion to apologize or retract my statements. They were true. Everything I’d given her, told her, acknowledged… it was all honest. That was the difference between Atlas and I. He was a lying scoundrel, and I was an honest coward.
I’d pierce my blade through every lie he uttered until I was hanged, if it came down to it.
“Perhaps his desire for your head is just.”
Anger ebbed off her threat. I shifted in my seat, folding my hands in my lap, and cleared my throat. I’d grown used to people loathing my family, and me by extension, but something stung about her hatred. Perhaps it was because we shared something in common that no one—outside of the Sinclair line—related to. Our shadows called to one another. It roused this feeling deep in my chest that I wasn’t used to. They were the sort of emotions I was raised to defy, ignore, and refuse.
Happiness, some might call it. Hope.
My mentor would have called it deadly. Foolish .
“Here is what we are going to do, little dove,” I said, low and quietly, “we are going to pretend you did not just say that. That thought will remain yours to have. To hold onto. But it will not be spoken again. We will get on the train and spend three days traversing the beautiful countryside until we arrive at Avendatis, where we will meet with the monarchy to discuss our stolen mirror.”
“You can’t truly believe your answer resides in a mirror?” she snapped quickly, head jerking in my direction with a bitter frown. All that doubt, resentment, and anger brewed beneath her glare. When I merely looked back, nodding to affirm my words, she scoffed. “You are a desperate man then.”
“Only desperate enough to ruin the life of a decent enough woman in hopes that she is part of that answer, yes.”
The carriage jumped to a halt soon after the sound of spun-up dirt shifted to wood rolling against rough, uneven cobblestone. Her body was so stiff she hardly moved—though it appeared as if a breeze could tip her over. She remained upright, despite the lurching motion of the coach.
“Decent, you say?”
“Mundanely so, Morgana.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
The door opened and I stepped out of the carriage, turning to offer a hand to her. The guardsman who typically helped us down took a polite step back to create space, holding back his gasp. She continued to stare, but eventually she accepted my help and stepped out of the carriage. Her small fingers brushed against the cool leather, her eyes wide as they stuck to mine.
“It’s a three-day journey?”
“To Avendatis, yes. We will spend the journey sharpening your skills.” Her brows arched in confusion. “You will charm them.”
A loud, unapologetic laugh cracked past her lips. It almost made me smile, and I let my hand fall to my side as she let go of it. “More lies, Prince Aster.”
“Alright.” I sighed and turned my attention toward the trainyard ahead. “You’ve caught me. You won’t be doing any charming. Unfortunately, that is what Erynna does best. You, little dove, will gather whatever information you can. If that means charming a prince, or princess, then do so. If that means stealing a family heirloom because it vaguely resembles the mirror in question, I applaud your swift hand and silver tongue. But we will not leave without answers.”
“And you’re so certain the Avendatis royals have answers?”
“They have to.” I took a step forward, to which she followed without instruction. We were guided closer to the lone black train with gilded filigree and my family’s crest engraved into the side. “They were the last ones to see Lord DeBurne before his untimely demise.”
The silence embraced us once more, but when I turned just enough to catch her in my periphery, I saw her gaze hung on the ground. Only this time, she was frowning. So deep, so raw, I wondered what nerve I’d unintentionally struck. Guilt gnawed at me in the chest, and I faced ahead. We boarded without another shared word, and before long, my sister joined us in the main coach. It would be just us, a few select servants, and dozens of guards.
These three days were either going to be time spent sulking, or they would be spent exposing Morgana to the other clusters of magic, knowledge, and know-how that hid inside of her, waiting to be uncovered.
A grating voice warned me that it would likely be the former, despite the aching desire to hear that crackling laugh once more. It was bitter, sure, but at least it was a laugh.
If I had to act a fool to hear it again, perhaps I would. Anything for the warmth.