Chapter 14
The sun dips behind the mountaintops, sending a chill over the valley as Julian holds back a tree branch.
My footsteps are heavy, wrists aching from the rhodium cuffs he replaced around my hands. I weave along the path while my thoughts churn. “I just needed a little more time. More practice. I was so close.”
“We told Kressa we’d have you back in the room during dinner.” Elias grimaces. “And to be frank, the only thing you were close to was burnout.”
A muscle in my arm spasms, my head throbbing as I trudge beside him. Once the sun kissed the peaks, Julian ended our training session—sending Nicole back to an undisclosed location, and me, licking my wounds, back to Ignata.
Julian jogs ahead and peers through the final row of trees separating us from buildings. “We need to stay on the outskirts of Ignata, then I’ll lead us through a side entrance into the castle.”
“Why are you helping her?” I ask him as we slink along the trees. “I understand why the others want to help. Nicole is her lover, Elias is her brother, but what about you? What allegiance do you have to Kressa over the king?”
He chews on the inside of his cheek, unwilling to look my way.
“I was meant to be guarding her the night Sarenia fell. And, well, it ended with her nearly losing her life. Her father blamed me for what happened, and he was going to execute me as an example to the other guards. But Kressa stepped in and demanded I be spared.”
“So you owe her.”
He halts and shakes his head, holding my gaze. “I don’t owe her anything, and she doesn’t use that against me. I remain loyal to her because she is a kind, genuine person who puts everyone’s needs before her own. And one day she’ll be a ruler I’ll be proud to serve.”
A sour taste fills my mouth, and before I can respond, he strides ahead, tracing a path over the undergrowth. Elias passes me and raises a brow, but I shrug off his attention and follow.
We trace the tree line until it ends at the edge of Ignata.
The world falls into dusk, and Julian spares me and Elias a final glance as we break through onto the cobblestoned path.
They border me on either side, blocking the chains from any bystanders.
Farther down the wide avenue, bodies shift in the fading light, hurrying home.
“Since the wyvern attack, Golan has put everyone on a curfew,” Julian says. “In their homes by dusk.”
Elias presses his palm against my shoulder and guides me down the street toward the eastern edge of the castle. I hold my hands steady in front of me, careful not to make any noise.
A bird shrieks overhead. One I’ve grown accustomed to.
My stomach plummets, and while Elias and Julian look to the sky, I keep my attention pinned on the path ahead. But in my periphery, the falcon sweeps past the roofline and settles itself on the tallest spire.
“Strange, I didn’t think there were falcons in Ignata,” Elias says, lifting a brow at Julian.
“There’s not.”
A hollow pit grows in my stomach as we come to the castle wall. If anyone tries to catch the bird, or sees it flying toward my window, they’ll find the correspondence. I would be executed, and they’d find the whereabouts of Isolde.
“Is it carrying something?” Elias says, squinting.
Julian shifts on his feet and lifts his hand, shielding his eyes from the sunlight reflecting off the castle. My heart thrashes in my chest as I scan the area. I have to do something.
I lunge forward, pretending as if I’ve tripped, and slam my metal cuffs against the castle gate.
The sound echoes down the street, scaring the bird away from the spire and gaining the attention of the handful of people remaining in the streets.
Julian and Elias whip their attention to me, the falcon forgotten.
Elias steadies me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, silently thanking the rhodium for blocking him out of my mind. “I got a little lightheaded, probably from the amount of power I’ve used today.”
“Let’s hurry,” Julian says, grabbing my arm. “Before a guard decides to investigate.”
Swallowing, I spare one last glance at the roofline. The falcon is nowhere to be seen, likely tucked into an eave, but if Kressa looks out my window, she’ll spot him.
We weave around the side of the eastern tower and duck into a hidden servant’s door.
Silence blankets the corridor, and Julian presses a finger to his lips as we ascend the steps.
I trace our path and count the floors we climb—committing them to memory.
If the situation ever arises, I need the fastest escape route.
Julian pauses at a landing and nods to Elias. “I’ll take her the rest of the way. You go make sure the king is distracted.”
Elias tilts his chin at me. “For the record, I joined your training session today not so I could scour Nicole’s mind, but because I can’t bear another moment of listening to my father drone on about politics.”
“Understandable.” A small smile tugs at my lips. “I used to sneak away from my mother’s meetings whenever I had the chance.”
The corner of his mouth tilts, and he spares Julian a final, lingering glance before he turns and climbs the steps. He twists around the center of the spiral staircase and disappears.
“I was beginning to think you invited him to follow along,” I whisper, following Julian into the hallway.
He shakes his head, but I catch the crimson tipping the arches of his ears. “Why would I do that?”
I smirk at the way the blush extends down his neck. “No reason at all.”
We turn a corner in the hall and Kressa’s door comes into view.
“Can we keep that between us?” Julian says, slowing his steps.
I lift a brow. “What do you mean?”
He wraps his hand around the doorknob, lowering his voice. “Elias. Kressa just got him back, and I don’t want her to be angry with me. Not that there’s anything to be angry about, but, you know.”
Julian was kind enough to bring me clothes after I had been wearing the same sea-sodden ones for days. He bears an allegiance with Kressa that runs far deeper than any he would have with me, but despite that, I trust him. I nod. “You have my word.”
Pressing his lips together, he dips his chin and pushes the door open.
The living room is empty, save for a low fire in the hearth. I step in, Julian close on my heels as the final dregs of sunlight disappear out the window. Lanterns flicker to life far below, and a weight lifts from my chest.
At least with nightfall, the falcon won’t be seen nestled in the rooftops.
“Kressa should be back soon.” He weaves around me, heading to my bedroom door. “But she mentioned she left something for you on your bed.”
A vise clamps around my throat. “She was in my room?”
“Well, technically it’s your prison cell.”
I narrow my eyes.
He chuckles and nods toward the door. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Leading me to the bedroom, he unlocks it and pulls open the door. We step over the threshold, and on the mattress sits a pair of gloves—the fabric a deeper black than a starless night. It seems to swallow the rest of the light in the room, like a bottomless pit.
I step closer. “What are those?”
He lays a hand on my shoulder, easing me to a stop, and pulls a second key from his belt.
“Rhodium gloves that Kressa commissioned for you.” He unlocks my cuffs and eases them off.
“You need the rhodium so you don’t start a fire, and you’ll have to wear the cuffs whenever you leave her quarters, of course.
I’ll be stationed outside the door, so don’t consider trying to sneak out. ”
“It’s not like I’d get very far,” I murmur. “Considering you can stifle my power.”
His gaze meets mine. “Briar, I hope you know what this means.”
My brows furrow. “What?”
“She trusts you.” His gaze traces the raw rings around my wrists. “And she cares about your wellbeing enough to make you more comfortable.”
I look away from him, my skin growing taut around my bones as a warmth billows in my chest. A dim, emerald glow casts over the room, directly from my chest. I slap my hand over it. “If she trusts me or cares about me, why is my life in the balance?”
His eyes linger on my chest. “So, that’s what it looks like? The bond.”
Folding my thoughts of Kressa away, I snuff out the light and drop my hand. “Unfortunately, yes.”
He gives me a long, lingering look, then backs up toward the doorway. “I’ll be in the hallway if you need anything. Just…don’t do anything stupid, please.”
“Me?” I let out a weak laugh. “I would never.”
With a final nod, he strides through the door and shuts it behind him. Eyeing the gloves, I approach the bed. The fabric is even darker up close—an abyss—and I lift one between my fingers, draping it over my palm.
I catch sight of the gnarled ring of skin around my wrists. How many times has Kressa stared at them, something shifting in her expression?
There’s a temptation to open my mental door and thank her for the gesture before I slip the gloves on. Another side of me wants to throw them into the hearth and start a fire, wait until they turn to ashes, and clamp the cuffs back around my wrists. Prove that I don’t need her sympathy.
But I do neither.
Fanning out my fingers, I slide the glove onto my hand. The rhodium is tightly woven, silky as it brushes over my knuckles and hugs the skin of my palm. If I prove I can behave—prove her trust is something I’m worthy of, maybe she’ll let me wear these on the ship. And if I’m not bound by shackles…
I slide the other glove on and flex my hands, sighing at the reprieve.
A tap sounds from the window.
Glancing over my shoulder, I freeze and watch the doorway, waiting for footsteps to come and investigate. But no noise greets me. I make my way to the window and part the curtain.
The falcon cocks its head, its beady eyes staring at me through the glass.
I unlatch the lock and slide the window open.
The creature wastes no time, hopping on the windowsill until I thrust my hand underneath and grab the scroll from its talons.
It shrieks and flaps its wings, flying back the direction it came.
I watch it go, and my brows furrow. Usually it waits until I have a message to send back.
Untying the leather strap, I unroll the parchment and squint against the dark, making out the scribbled note.
My Briar,
It’s felt like a lifetime without you.
-I
An ache spreads behind my eyes. I spent an entire decade beside Isolde, thinking we’d have at least five more. All of that, thrown away over the course of a handful of days. My gaze traces over the rhodium gloves, then my wounds—far more visible than the ones I hide beneath my skin.
I swallow back the unshed tears and fold up the parchment, shoving it under the mattress. The only thing that should be on my mind is finding Inez and freeing my crew so we can go back to Delterran. Everyone else—Kressa, Isolde, me—comes second to that.
Stepping away from the bed, I stride toward the bedroom door and try the knob. It gives, and the breath catches in my throat. Julian forgot to lock it.
If Kressa won’t be back until after dinner, maybe I can find out what else she’s hiding.